Chapter Text
Jaime sat at his desk, foot tapping restlessly against the linoleum floor. His Spanish notebook sat open, the project materials spread neatly in front of him, just like they’d practiced.
Except Bart wasn’t there.
The classroom buzzed softly with chatter as other pairs went up to present one by one. The Spanish teacher called names from his list, and Jaime’s stomach twisted tighter with every one that wasn’t theirs.
He’d spent the whole night and morning replaying that fight in his head, every word, every look. Every time he’d almost said “I didn’t mean it.” But Bart never texted. Never called.
So Jaime sat alone, jaw clenched, pretending he didn’t care.
The teacher looked up from his papers.
“Mr. Reyes. Mr. Allen.”
The sound of Bart’s last name was like a spark to gunpowder.
Jaime exhaled sharply.
“He’s not here.”
The teacher frowned.
“Then I’m afraid you’ll both receive-”
“Wait!”
The door burst open.
Bart stood there, chest heaving slightly from running. His hair was a mess, his face pink, but he was there, holding something under one arm.
A skateboard.
Jaime blinked.
It was Tye’s board.
The same one Jaime had thrown out his window, its surface scraped and scarred, but mended. Bart had glued and sanded the break, carefully piecing it back together. The repair wasn’t perfect, but it was solid.
Whole.
Bart hesitated at the door, catching Jaime’s stunned stare. Then, a small smile.
“Took me all night. Hope I didn’t mess up the grip tape too bad.”
Jaime’s throat felt tight. He couldn’t even find words before the teacher clapped once.
“Mr. Allen, so kind of you to join us. You two are up.”
Bart nodded quickly and made his way up front, the board still in his hands. He leaned it gently against the desk before turning to Jaime.
“Ready, partner?”
Jaime met his gaze. Bart’s grin was nervous, but real, that same smile that used to annoy him. The one he’s missed all day.
Jaime swallowed and nodded.
“Yeah. Ready.”
They began.
Bart stumbled a few times, tripping over his words, his accent more comical than convincing. Jaime picked up where he fell short, translating smoothly, their rhythm uneven but somehow working.
By the end, Bart cracked a joke in Spanish, something about cómo se dice “moded” en español, and Jaime snorted mid-sentence, actually laughing out loud. The class was quiet, no one else getting it.
When they finished, the teacher smiled faintly.
“Not perfect,”
he said,
“But…a pass.”
As they sat back down, Bart nudged Jaime’s shoulder.
“So… we cool?”
Jaime looked at the skateboard resting against the desk. Then at Bart.
“You’re still terrible at Spanish.”
Bart’s grin widened.
“Yeah, but I’m crash at fixing stuff.”
Jaime rolled his eyes, but there was no heat in it this time.
“Yeah. You are.”
The bell rang, and students flooded the hallway. Jaime and Bart followed behind the crowd, their shoulders brushing every few steps. The tension between them was lighter now, not gone, but changed. Jaime balanced the repaired skateboard under one arm.
“Hey, that wasn’t so bad, right? You didn’t even threaten to throw anything this time.”
Jaime huffed a quiet laugh.
“You still owe me for saving you during the presentation.”
“Yeah, yeah. Add it to my tab.”
They were halfway down the hall when someone’s shoulder slammed hard into Bart’s. Knocking him into Jaime. The skateboard nearly slipped from his grip.
“Watch it!”
Bart snapped before he even saw who it was.
It was that same jock from before, the one who’d shoved him in Spanish class. The guy smirked, looking between the two of them.
“Figures. You two holding hands next?”
Jaime’s expression darkened.
“What did you just-”
Bart’s hand landed on his arm, stopping him.
“Don’t.”
The jock laughed under his breath and walked off, muttering something ugly that neither of them heard, otherwise both boys would’ve jumped the brute.
Jaime turned back to Bart.
“You should’ve let me say something. He can’t-”
Bart shrugged, still watching the guy disappear down the hall.
“I don’t really find it insulting.”
Jaime blinked.
“You don’t?”
Bart looked up at him with a grin on his face, small but sure.
“‘Cause it’s true.”
For once, Jaime had nothing to say. His mouth opened, then closed again.
Bart’s voice softened.
“Is that… okay?”
Jaime stared at him a long moment. The noise of the hallway faded into a dull hum.
“Yeah,”
Jaime said quietly.
“I’m bi.”
Bart’s grin brightened instantly, playful again, a spark in his green eyes.
“So you are into me. Knew it.”
Jaime laughed, shaking his head.
“You’re suddenly very confident.”
“Crashly confident.”
Bart corrected.
“Not a word.”
“Is now.”
They pushed through the doors together, sunlight spilling across the steps. The afternoon air was warm, the last of summer still clinging to it. As they started down the sidewalk, Jaime gripped his board up under his arm, noticing Bart glance over with that familiar, teasing smile.
“So… you ever take your dates skating, Reyes? Or do you save that for special people like me?”
Jaime smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether you’re better at skating than you are at Spanish.”
Bart grinned, mock-offended.
“Hey, I’m improving!”
“Sure.”
Jaime said, bumping his shoulder lightly against Bart’s as they walked.
“We’ll see how crash you really are.”
Bart gasped dramatically.
“You used my words!”
Bart laughed, that bright, unrestrained, obnoxious and loud kind of laugh that echoed off the brick walls around them.
And for the first time in a long time, Jaime didn’t mind the noise at all.
Jaime loves things that are loud.