Jack would probably go to prom covered in Sister Juice and not think anything of it, so all things considered it's probably lucky that he has Sinclair around to make the fashion decisions for him.

And speaking of making decisions for him...

"Yes sir." Jack sets off, and there's a whir of machinery in the background as a few friendly turrets turn to watch him go. Broken glass crunches underfoot, and some way off in the distance, there's a whistle of birds. Three guesses where he's been holed up.

Jack's okay with doing what Sinclair asked for now. It's comforting to just do what he's told.

With his mind elsewhere, as it is right now, it's not even horribly depressing with its implications.