Chapter Text
Jake flipped the comic. He liked the style of the cover, but the baseball pitcher on the front was a hard turn off.
He frowned and set it down, turning to look for anything else he could buy that looked old. Most things on display were vintage, but he had a particular aesthetic in mind. Something bright, more 80s. Something like… a doll with bright orange hair and colorful clothes.
He pulled out an earbud. The woman holding the sale noticed him pick up the doll and greeted him with a smile. “It’s twenty bucks,” she said, not unkindly, “Sound fair?”
“Twenty bucks?” Jake repeated.
“It’s got to be worth twenty bucks, right?”
She was right. The doll was in perfect condition, not a scratch in sight.
“Hey, where’d you get this?” He asked.
The woman furrowed her brows. “I have no idea,” She admitted, “It must’ve been my daughters. Honestly, I don’t remember.” She pressed her pointer and thumb to her temple. As she rubbed, he noticed her eyes matched the dolls, sky blue against pale skin. “You’re into vintage?” She continued, still smiling.
“No, I’m into retro.” Jake replied with a tight lipped smile of his own.
The woman cocked her head. “What’s the difference?”
“About ten bucks.”
She laughed and agreed to the deal. Good, Jake thought as he tucked the doll against his chest, I only brought ten.
On the walk back to his house, Jake pulled up a podcast in place of his music. There was a picture of a boy at his school copied onto a gray background. “HackenSlash ,” It read in blocky white text. Then underneath it, “ New hacks, every Thursday!” It was the best podcast in Hackensack, New Jersey, if you asked Jake. Although, he might be a bit biased. As the voice played through his earbuds, Jake couldn’t help but smile. Only Devon Evans would have him so invested in true crime.
For someone who’d always seemed so innocent growing up, it came as a surprise to everyone when he’d started the Hackenslash podcast back in middle school.
After the initial shock though, Jake thought it made plenty of sense. True crime was interesting, and Devon’s mom was a detective. She certainly was supportive of her son's passion. Her cameos on the show were always pleasant, even if the ‘ that’s classified’ jokes went a little overboard.
Today’s episode was about a hometown serial killer back in the 80s. Charles Lee Ray was a topic that came up often around the halloween season. He’s become sort of an urban legend for the kids of Hackensack. There were stories about him coming to get you if you were an asshole, like some sort of fucked up justice system. That one was used to scare teenagers, but no one believed it.
Parents had more luck scaring their younger kids with talk of possessed dolls - another story of the infamous killer.
Jake pulled the doll closer to his chest. He’d stopped believing that one years ago. Most of his art worked with dolls, and he had yet to come across a possessed one. Safe to say, it wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.
“ Until next time, fellow detectives. This is Devon Evans, bringing you: HackenSlash.”
Jake let his door slam shut behind him in the empty house. He made his way over to his current project, which stood with it’s back to the doorway. It was lacking arms and the coverage of plastic limbs over a leg and lower hip.
Binxie, his cat, greeted him with a loud mreow and arched her back up into his palm. Jake cooed and ran a hand along her back. While she purred appreciatively, he set the doll on the desk with the rest of his supplies. Binxie tried to gain his attention back by pawing at the doll, but she was soon disappointed as he shooed her away. She let out a low sound somewhere between a growl and a purr and hightailed it off the desk. Jake chuckled at her antics and went to work.
He worked for a solid fifteen minutes before the sounds of tires screeching pulled him out of the headspace. Lucas Wheeler was home and he was shouting his name. Jake startled as his dad barged into his room only a few seconds later. “Fuck.” He cursed, his hand knocking into the new doll.
“ Hi! I’m Chucky, and I'm your friend to the end! ”
“Jesus christ, Jake. Another doll?” Jake didn’t need to look to know that his dad was still in his work uniform. He could smell the sweat and dirt of the navy jumpsuit from the second his dad stepped in.
“He’s voice activated.” He said with awe. He set his exacto knife down to pick up the doll, observing how its lips moved as it continued to talk. “I was thinking of using his head for the sculpture. What do you think?”
Personally, Jake thinks the head would be a perfect fit. He would have to find a way to keep or reuse the voice box, maybe he could even add other prerecorded lines. Youtube can show you how to do anything if you search hard enough
Lucas stared at the project with slumped shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m no art critic.” He said.
Jake adjusted his seating to face his dad. Naturally, his fingers laced together in the space between his legs. “Well, I’m not asking for a review, dad. I just… want your opinion.”
“It’s cool, Jake.” Pause .“I still think you're spending too much time on it.” Bingo .
Jake rolled his eyes as his dad continued with increasing desperation. “It wouldn’t hurt you to get out of this room every once in a while. Maybe you could, uh…” His eyes raked his walls, probably looking for the sports posters Jake had taken down months ago. He exhaled through pursed lips. “... ask a girl to a movie. Or see a friend, or something.”
Jake could throw back his head and laugh. It was knee-slapping material, really, just how hard his dad tried to ignore the signs. There were at least five different indicators in his room alone that he wasn’t straight, three of which being a version of a pride flag. “Friends come and go. Work lasts forever.” He shrugged.
His dad crossed his arms over his chest. “So does student debt.”
Ah, Jake thought as he watched his father break away from his gaze, we’re going to have this talk again. He straightened up in his seat and braced himself for the words to come.
When they had this argument for the first time, Jake had screamed at his dad to look at him. Mocked him for not facing him like a man that he so badly wanted Jake to be. Jake was grateful his dad wouldn’t look at him now, because he never sees the look of heartbreak Jake always carries into this conversation.
“You know it’s almost impossible, living as an artist?”
“Mom did.” He said. His voice was quiet, broken.
“That wasn’t a living.” He explained slowly, talking to Jake as if he was a small child, “That was a lifestyle. And it certainly didn’t pay the bills. I did .”
His breath wafted into his face when he leaned down to articulate his point. Jake wrinkled his nose at the foul scent of garlic and tilted his head away. The added weight on his shoulders was suddenly making him feel very claustrophobic.
“You know,” Lucas continued. Jake swallowed as a puff of air hit his cheek. His dad grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his gaze, “You look more and more like her every day.” He said.
They held this position. Jake could feel the sting of his dad's blunt nails digging into his jaw. He had to bite down on his tongue to prevent his lips from quivering. When a few seconds passed and Jake didn’t respond, his dad backed away.
“Speaking of which. I looked into that art camp. I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
Jake gasped for air when his dad moved across the room. He felt lightheaded from the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Why not?”
Thankfully, his dad was oblivious to his accusatory tone and replied calmly. “It’s a thousand bucks, Jake. I'm sorry.” No, you’re not. “Maybe next year? Besides, you don’t want to be away from me for that long, do you?” He grinned, displaying his crooked front teeth. When Jake didn’t respond, the grin dropped with a scoff.
“Did you take your pill yet? You’re going to need it.” His dad said from where he lingered in Jake’s doorway. “Your cousin is coming over for dinner.” Jake cursed and rushed to get ready. His dad left with a mumble of agreement.
“So this is fun.” His aunt said with a tentative glance around the table, “I can’t remember the last time we just… sat down for pizza.”
Jake wasn’t very hungry after taking his medicine. His pizza sat untouched on his plate along with a cup of murky tap water. For the majority of dinner it had been silent, everyone off in their own world save for the occasional glares Junior would send his way. However, his aunt was the type who always needed to be talking, so it came as a surprise to no one when she spoke up.
Sometimes Jake wondered how his dad and uncle were related, let alone twins. They were two completely different people, with completely different families, on completely different planes of existence. While his aunt and uncle wore suit jackets and expensive dresses, the nicest things Jake and his father owned were dark button up shirts and Jake’s favorite flannel.
Logan’s family were wildly overdressed. They looked like they should be at some 5-star restaurant with fancy wine and a live performance of jazz music. Not here, eating pizza and drinking beer in a house that looked like every other house on the block.
“Luke.” His father set down his drink when his brother spoke. “You got a little something- other side. Okay.” Logan cleared his throat, “So how’s business?”
Jake zoned out as his father and uncle talked, repeating the same offer they had every time they came over. If you need financial help, it’s okay! I can give you a job! To which his father would respond with a defensive, We don’t need help. His life was easily comparable to a record with the same three or four songs to play again and again. It was a loop that Jake could only hope to leave as soon as he’s eighteen.
He zoned back in as his father sat down and silence settled again. He could feel the heat of Junior's stare on the side of his head. He was just itching to say something. Jake waited as the clock ticked, but it wasn’t him who spoke next. Once again it was his aunt, and it was about how amazing Junior is and blah blah . Jake felt sick with the sight of excitement that took over his dad's face. He never looked at Jake like that. He clenched his hands under the table, ignoring the ridicule packed in his eyes when they took in his son.
His aunt kept talking. And then his dad. And then it was tense. Jake was thinking up ways to excuse himself when Junior decided it was the perfect moment to speak up.
“You know, Jake, the scouts are taking gays now, you should totally come check it out.”
Aunt Bree rushed to distract from the situation but it was already too late, his heart felt like it had dropped out of his ass. While he had been making it obvious, he never actually came out to his dad. He could feel his hand trembling against his knee, itching to rub at the tears building up on his lids. Jake plastered on a sarcastic smile and avoided his fathers gaze. “So, what does that mean exactly? Eagle scout.” he said, “Do you like, sell the most cookies?”
Junior's face flashed with something unpleasant. Jake couldn’t tell what it was before he was talking again.
“While you were up in your room playing with dolls , I organized a whole book drive for the homeless.”
“Yeah, because keeping up with Harry Potter is the most pressing issue facing the homeless.”
Junior glared at him.
Aunt Bree interrupted with wide eyes. “Jake! How is the sculpture coming along?” Her lips were pulled into a tight smile and - because she’s been one of the most supportive people in Jake’s life - she sounded genuinely curious. “Can we see it yet?”
“Soon.” He replied.
“Where do you get the dolls?” Uncle Logan piped up.
“Thrift shops, yard sales, ebay, trashcans...” Jake counted off on his fingers.
He was happy to talk about art. It was one of the few things left in his life he was passionate about. “...Andy Warhol once said, “Just because something has been thrown away, doesn’t make it garbag–”
“Wasn’t Warhol gay, too?” Junior interrupted.
“Junior!” His mother gasped.
“What? It’s the 21st century, it’s cool to be gay now. Right, Jake?”
His uncle was saying something but he wasn’t listening. A glass dropped.
Everyone startled at the sound, turning to gawk at Lucas and his gritted teeth. His dad’s face was red, either from anger or the beer that just fell from his grasp, but what was most likely both. If his heated yet slurred speech was anything to go by. “Would you give it a rest?” Jake flinched as he slammed his fist down on the table. “He’s fourteen years old, he doesn’t know what he is.”
“Suh- sixteen.” He corrected, unsure if the words reached the volume he’d intended them to. The glare his dad sent him told him to shut up while aunt Bree excused herself.
The departure was uncomfortable. Lucas had stumbled off somewhere while Jake was pulled into awkward goodbye hugs from his aunt and uncle. As much as he didn’t want to be alone with his dad right now, he was relieved when they pulled out of the driveway. A headache was starting to creep up on him and if he was lucky, he’d be able to disappear into his room for the rest of the night without interference from his dad.
If anyone asked, him flipping them the finger was to help his headache. It relieved stress, you know?
He left food out for Binxie, knowing she liked to roam the neighborhood at night since there weren't any people around to bother her. For a cat that loved so much attention, there was a level of irony in the hate she had for most humans. It was funny sometimes, like when she’d decided that Junior was one of those humans she hated and threw herself at his back. (With claws and everything!) Jake thought it was hilarious, and he couldn't stop cackling as Junior accused him of training her.
He breathed a laugh now. The cool night air felt nice on his face. The crickets chirping, the dogs' distant barking and the sound of a bat swinging all made for a relaxing atmosphere.
Wait, a bat was swinging at something.
Upstairs.
In his house.
Jake ran as fast as he could, almost tripping on his way up the stairs.
He couldn't believe his eyes. His dad was destroying his sculpture. He lunged for his arm and yanked but he was brushed off without so much as a blink in his direction. For a second, as his dad pulled the bat back and over his head, Jake thought he’d turn his attacks on him.
He didn’t, but a sob broke through Jake’s lips anyway. He couldn’t do anything but watch and cry as his dad finished the job and dropped the bat. It hit the floor with a metal clang. The sound echoed through Jake’s mind long after his father left the room.
Jake stood over the broken pieces, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs before his dad got even more pissed because he was crying like a girl.
It really put things into perspective to see how easily his months work was destroyed. He poured his heart out into his art and his dad beat it to death without a second thought.
Spit and tears wet his hand until it was too unbearable and he had to pull it away. He didn’t change his clothes before he went to bed. He just lied down and cried until he passed out.
That night he had a nightmare about his cat dying.
The next morning he woke up early to do some research. His dad wanted his dolls gone? Fine. But when he made enough profit off of them, his dad was going to find him gone, too.
So far everything was a miss. No one wanted dolls that were already in shit condition.
Then Jake’s gaze fell on Chucky.
He’s in pretty good condition, right? Jake thought, picking the doll up under its arms. He carried it over to the computer with him and settled it in his lap. Once stable, he pulled up a new tab and searched for good guy doll prices, his eyes widening as he scrolled.
“Fifteen hundred bucks?” He said, gaping at his screen. “Holy shit.”
His gaze wandered down to the time.
“ Holy shit.”
He barely made it out the door in time for the bus. In his rush, he’d forgotten to shut down his computer and realized he was still holding the doll. It was too late to turn back now - the bus was already pulling up - so he sucked in a deep breath and prepared himself for the day to come.
It felt like the world was in slow motion as he made his way towards the back of the bus. Someone threw their jacket at him, girls were whispering and giggling to each other, someone even made a crude sound that Jake didn’t even want to attempt to decipher. And then there was Devon – perfect, sweet , Devon. He was reading a true crime magazine because of course he would and Jake wanted to reach over and press down the crease that had formed between his brows from concentration. He wouldn’t, of course, but he did take the seat behind him. Luckily, Devon was too engrossed in his magazine to notice his staring, so he risked a glance over to see what he was reading. The serial killer was one that Jake knew about.
This was his moment. He could open his mouth and start a conversation about this and all his studying for this opportunity would have been worth it. He leaned forward to do just that, when–
“Hey man.” Junior plopped down right next to Devon. They did some sort of weird clap that challenged Jake’s willpower not to snort and settled into quiet conversation. He ducked his head against the window. His moment had slipped away.
The bus ride after that sucked. Jake plugged in his earbuds and let the music numb his ears and mind.
Before he knew it, he was ambling down the red tiled floor of Perry High School– a direct add on to their last school, Perry Middle. A guy, who’s name he forgot, approached him with a sheepish grin on his face. It was one of the other gay kids. Not gay, bisexual. Doesn’t his name start with a ‘B”, too? Was it Brian? Or… Bryson?
“Hey!” the guy said. He heaved a half-assed grunt in a reply. He had a more important task at hand, the damned doll won’t fit in his locker.
“Do you think you could introduce me to your cousin?”
“Junior?” He asked, finally giving up and shutting his locker.
“Sorry, I’m flattered but I don’t swing that way.”
Speak of the devil and he shall appear; Junior was leaning on the locker beside him with a pout. And as if one demon isn’t enough, Lexy Cross decided to make a surprise appearance as well. Jake cringed as she kissed Junior, pressing on longer than what was comfortable for anyone watching. They pulled away with matching smirks.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Said the guy.
Lexy placed a hand on Junior's shoulder, pressing into his space with a mocking grin. “Yeah, since homecoming. Don’t you follow my instagram, Bennie?” She batted her lashes, “I swear I saw your name under the likes on my last beach post. Maybe I was mistaken.”
Ben, - he can’t believe he learned this guys name through Lexy fucking Cross - had red blush climbing up his ears from what Jake hoped was just embarrassment.
Ben was already gone by the time he was done thinking about how he could get a word of defense. The couple's attention fell on him. Junior was as unreadable as always, but Lexy's eyes were twinkling with interest.
“Oh my god, your doll is adorable.” She cooed, pulling up the camera on her phone. Jake was thrown back in time to when his mom would urge him on with the same eagerness. With nostalgia in his heart, Jake gave in and posed for the picture. “Chucky Cheese,” He said.
The shutter was loud when it went off. Jake blinked and Lexy was already putting her phone away. “You’re not tearing him apart, I hope?” She cocked her head to the side.
“Anything for art–”
“No, you can't.” She insisted. The vision of his mother vanished and he cleared his throat. “Well, actually, I was going to sell him.”
Lexy was quiet. So quiet that Jake is convinced he can actually hear the gears turning in her head. She promptly straightened up as if an imaginary lightbulb went off. “Oh.” She said with a glance at Junior, who looked just as confused as Jake felt, “You’re selling him? I… didn't realize it's gotten that bad.”
Jake furrowed his brows. “What?”
“I mean, do you need to borrow any money? Seriously it’s no problem–” She grabbed Junior’s arm, “Right, sweetie?”
Junior looked bewildered . “I don’t carry cash on me–”
“You can venmo–”
“My parents can-”
“Take responsibility! Help your cousin out yourself-”
“I don’t think he needs–”
“Being financially unstable is nothing to be ashamed of–”
“He’s right. I don’t need that.” Jake's voice was drowned out by the bell ringing. Now he understood how his father felt as the couple continued to toss words back and forth. He cleared his throat and said, “Really, I don’t.”
Lexy seemed surprised to see he was still there and let go of Junior, who was sulking from their brief argument. “Well,” Lexy touched a perfectly manicured hand on his shoulder. Her lips were pressed into a reassuring smile - or what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “We'll see you later.”
He pretended not to notice how she wiped her hand off on Junior's sweater as she sashayed away.
Jake liked Biology. The teacher was nice, he understood the concepts, and he was for the most part left alone. For the first time in the entire school year thus far, he dreaded the period.
Laid out on each counter was a tray. On each tray there were six things: A pair of scissors, probs and pins, another pair of even funkier looking scissors, a scalpel, and a half-alive frog. For the first half of the class, Jake just watched it. He thought, maybe if he stared at it for long enough, it’d die, or disappear. Either works, but he’d prefer the latter. He does not want to dissect anything .
“Jake. Are you okay?”
Jake isn't the only one who’s skeptical, but unfortunately he is the only one who doesn't have a lab partner. While those lucky bastards could hide behind their partners and still get a good grade, he was stuck doing it himself.
“I don’t really like… blood.” He said with a cringe.
His teacher, Ms. Fairchild, looked sympathetic. He’d held out hope that she’d give him a pass, but she took his dreams and stomped on them until they were all bloody and gross and guts were splattered everywhere and stop thinking about that, that’s so gross .
“Unless it’s a religious conflict, it’s not optional.”
Jake would have slammed his head on the desk if he wasn't scared he’d somehow fall on a scalpel and cut his face open. His teacher was still speaking, “It’s simple. Just make a vertical incision down the abdomen like the video showed you.” She demonstrated by running her fingers along the stomach of the frog that was still very much breathing . Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Ms. Fairchild moved on to the next group, gushing about fun facts like, “Sometimes the heart doesn’t stop beating until a few minutes after death.”
Jake was going to vomit.
His vision was blurry as he picked up the scalpel. He slowly brought it down towards the frog, squinting his eyes as much as he could without losing sight completely. After taking one more deep breath and pushed the sharp tip down.
So much blood. Too much blood. Make it stop, oh my god. Too much.
He dropped the scalpel and kneeled over to the side, trying not to retch. He couldn’t do this, he needed to leave. Now.
As if it couldn’t get any worse, a chorus of dings spread across the room like a wildfire. Jake blinked back hot tears and grabbed his phone with a shaky hand, but there were no new notifications.
Suddenly everyone was staring at him. Jake could feel their gazes with the prickling sensation it sent along his skin. And the laughter, too. They’re laughter was deafening. He had to resist the urge to cover his ears.
Oliver - another asshole like Lexy - was leaning onto the desk next to him, broadcasting his phone. “So about Lexy’s new go-fund-me,” he smirked, reaching into his pocket to pull out a quarter, “here. Don’t spend it all in one place.” He flicked it off his thumb and left, cackling, to join another group of boys.
His fingers dashed across the keyboard to find the go-fund-me Oliver showed him. He hadn’t got to see the full thing, but he was pretty sure he knew what it’d be.
He clicked the second link to pop up and waited for the screen to load. His face popped up, it was the picture Lexy took earlier of him with the good guy doll. Underneath, it was titled “ FIGHT POVERTY! Help Jake and Chucky!”. The bar below showed that forty dollars had already been donated. Before he could spiral, the bell called for the next period. Jake slipped his phone into his back pocket, grabbed Chucky and made a beeline towards the door.
Oliver’s shoulder slammed into him when he was a couple steps away. He stifled a yelp as he fell on top of the doll. Oliver smirked down at him. He still has his gloves on from the dissection, Jake hopes he’ll get amphibian gut stains all over his bag.
“Have fun with your boy toy.” The jock mocked.
Oliver finally leaves as Jake pushes himself up. Ms. Fairchild was waiting with a frown. “Jake–”
Don’t. “Hey, do you think you could uhm, keep this? Until I can sell it. It won’t fit in my locker.” He said with the doll held out in front of him. She took it from him with so much care that he briefly felt bad for being kind of pissed with her. “Of course.” She agreed.
Jake knew his smile probably looked like a wince, but it was the best he could manage before he left the room.
“ Crime is complicated. Especially in the eyes of the victim…”
The cafeteria was bustling around him but Jake was spaced out to Devon's voice. As embarrassing as it is, his voice always helped calm him down. Whenever he would have an attack nowadays, he’d usually plug in his earbuds and turn on the HackenSlash . He’d even downloaded a few of his favorite episodes for these occasions.
He glanced around to see if anyone was still staring at him, and was relieved to find that they were all minding their own business. He absently watched a group of kids playing a card game before his view was interrupted by a sweater holding a tray.
Devon.
Jake scrambled to rip his earbuds out and turn off his phone. It was hard to say whether or not Devon had seen.
He was staring patiently at Jake.
“Uhm-” He croaked. Fuck, did he miss something? “... What?”
“I asked if I could sit here.” Not that it mattered, because clearly Devon was already sitting, but Jake nodded anyway. He was just being polite.
“What are you listening to?”
“Nothing.” He lied, turning his full attention to the boy in front of him. Devon raised a brow and said, “Well, you were definitely listening to something. Was it my podcast, by chance?” And really, Jake shouldn't be afraid. He wasn't being unkind, he was just teasing him. But when your heart is racing 100 miles per second and you’ve just calmed down from a panic attack, you don’t tend to think rationally.
“No. I wasn’t.” He insisted, coming off. too strong and startling Devon. He quickly backtracked, his voice softening as he continued to lie. “It was uh, Vampire Diaries. It’s my guilty pleasure.”
Devon didn’t look like he believed him for a second. “Oh really?” He asked. “What’s it about?”
Shit. I don’t know. “It’s about… brotherly love? The bond between family… or whatever.” he mumbled, picking up his fork and stabbing into his food. Devon laughed, “And hot vampires?”
Jake blushed. He’s seen the posters for the show and he can’t deny that they are kind of attractive. “Yeah. Super hot.” He agreed, laughing as well.
“I’ll check it out.”
“Coolio.” Oh my god, what the fuck, who even says that. Coolio? Could you get any more lame? Jake glances off to the side with wide eyes.
“You know…” Devon kept talking, oblivious. Jake tilted his head down so he could hide behind his curls. He didn’t want to seem creepy by staring while he talked. Even if he really liked it when he talked. Devon would probably take it as a compliment if he knew Jake liked his voice.
Maybe I should tell him that someday , he thought as he watched him ramble, not today, though.
“Oh sorry,” Devon placed his arms down on the table on either side of his tray. He picked at the corners as he spoke. “I came to ask if you’d be going to the talent show tomorrow. I’m in it and…” He trailed off, waiting.
“ And what?” Jake would tease if he was more confident, but the way Devon was looking at him now made him feel hot all over and he could barely think straight. If Junior saw him like this, fawning over his best friend, he would never hear the end of it.
“I’ll check it out.” He replied evenly.
“Coolio.” Devon parroted with a wink.
Kill me now. Jake felt like his face was on fire, because Devon was staring at him again. At first, Jake worried he’d miss something like earlier but then he realized that Devon was thinking about something. Jake furrowed his brows and ducked his head down to eat. He’d let Devon take his time.
“So, this is kind of awkward but--” Jake looked up again, fork still stuffed in his mouth. Devon suddenly looked away. “Ah, uhm, nevermind.”
Jake swallowed his food. “Okay?” He scrunched his face up as a piece went down the wrong tube. He could feel Devon's gaze as he turned to cough into his elbow.
“I was wondering if you’d come on my podcast to talk about anti-bullying.” Devon blurted out when Jake was done. Jake went right back to choking.
“Sorry-” cough , “What?”
Devon worried his lip between his teeth. It was eating up all of his willpower not to glance down.
“Well…” He stammered. Jake had never seen him like this before. His podcast must be really important to him.
“I want to do a series on bullying. Bullying is a crime on it’s own and we have so many here in Hackensack already and it’s just not fair to people like you and-- sorry , i’m ranting again--”
“Wait, wait.” Jake held his hand up to stop him. “I thought your podcast was on Serial Killers?”
Devon looked like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. “It is!” He insisted, “But there’s so much to talk about when it comes to bullying here. I mean there’s Lexy, and Oliver and--”
“Junior?” Jake offered.
Devon’s gaze snapped back to him. “What? No. Junior’s not a bad guy, it’s just…” he waved his hand around, searching for the right words, “... Lexy.” He finished.
Jake disagreed, but he’d rather swallow gasoline than fight with Devon, so he started packing up to leave before he could say something stupid. “I’m not interested.” He said, hiking his bag up on one shoulder and standing up.
“Wait-- no. Jake, that came out wrong. The real reason is-”
Jake didn’t want to hear it. He was already gone before Devon could finish.
This day couldn’t be over soon enough.
To sum up the day so far, Jake: Accidentally brought a doll to school, had a fundraiser started in his honor, had a panic attack over dissecting a frog , and managed to make a complete fool of himself in front of his crush who definitely now thinks he’s a complete loser.
Fucking fantastic. Jake dug his hands into his curls and slouched over his knees. The bathroom floor was disgusting, but there was nowhere else he could get some privacy in and he needed time to recollect his feelings. He still had fifteen minutes until his next period, that should be enough. He’ll make it enough.
He sucked in a breath, running through his mental checklist for times like this. Usually he’d listen to the HackenSlash but after what just happened with its host, he can cross that option off.
He could listen to music… but in his rush he’d forgotten his earbuds. Fuck, that’s fine. He had an extra pair at home. Unfortunately, he was not home right now, so that was another one off the list.
He resorts to the most basic strategy: practice his breathing. It was one of the only things he’d gotten out of the month he had therapy, before his dad decided his money was better spent on beer. He inhaled through his nose - hold, 1, 2, 3 - and exhaled through his mouth. He repeated this until he was stable enough to stand.
He still felt dizzy as he pushed open the stall and stumbled over to the sink. The water helped, it was refreshing against his face. He surveyed his reflection. His eyes were still puffy, and red splotches decorated his cheeks, but besides that he looked fine. Maybe he could pass for high.
A pair of shoes squeaked against the floor. Jake froze as a pair of eyes met his through the mirror.
“Jake?”
He gripped the sink with a gulp. Junior was giving him an odd look. If he were a kinder person, Jake would think that it was a look of worry, but that didn't make sense. Him and Junior hadn’t gotten along since they were in elementary school. The Junior he knows would turn heel and book it now so he didn't have to take responsibility for ignoring his cousin's feelings.
So, why wasn’t he?
Junior scanned the room, even going as far as ducking down to check under the stalls. When he found no one, he straightened back up and cleared his throat. “Are you--” His voice cracked. He looked vaguely embarrassed as he swallowed air and tried again, “Is it… Are you having one of those ?”
Jake couldn’t help it, he rolled his eyes. “A panic attack? It’s not a bad word.”
Junior hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, a panic attack. Are you okay? Do you have your medicine? I can message my dad if you need–”
“Why the fuck would you do that?” Jake hissed. He didn’t have his medicine on him right now. Students weren’t allowed to carry around unregistered pills, and Jake’s father never took the time to connect to the school's shitty healthcare.
In freshman year Jake had kept them in a tiny pocket of his bag. It had worked until some point in the middle of the year when all the students got their bags checked for a reason that eluded him. If Jake hadn’t had a clear record before then, he might’ve gotten into real trouble.
Junior was already pulling out his phone. “Look, if you need it, then whatever. It’s not my fault you're a freak and the least I can do is–”
“Oh, fuck off, Junior.” He said, pushing off the sink and jabbing a finger into his cousin's space. “Don’t act all nice now. I don’t want your help.”
“I’m trying to help.” He said, grabbing a fistful of Jake's shirt.
“Well you’re not.” Jake retorted, lifting his chin in defiance. He still had a few inches on Junior, ever since they hit their growth spurts around the same time. It had pissed his cousin off to no end.
“Listen you– you freak–”
“So original, Junior. We all know you mean a different f-word when you say that–”
“What? No I’d never call you that –”
“Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly fighting for the gays when you outed me to my dad .”
“I outed you?” The grip on his shirt loosened. Jake took the opportunity to rip himself away and stumble back.
“Yeah. You did.” He huffed. With nimble fingers, he smoothed down his flannel. It was his favorite before today, but he’ll have to pick a new one. Junior’s hands were still in the air from where they’d previously dug into the fabric.The shock on his face gave Jake a twisted sense of triumph. He really didn’t know what he’d done.
Seeming to come back to his senses, Junior dropped his hands to his sides. “I’m sorry.” He said.
… what?
“You’re… sorry?” Jake gaped at his cousin. Junior never says sorry for anything.
Junior was digging through his bag. He waited for him to find whatever it was he was looking for, a crease forming between his brows. Junior's hand appeared again, closed around something. He grabbed Jake’s arm and guided his hand over, with a gentle touch Jake hadn’t felt from him in years.
“Here.” He said, pressing something cold into his palm. “I don’t want to see you more than I have to but… I don’t want you to be somewhere unsafe, either.” He sighed, zipping his bag up and fixing the straps on his shoulders.
Jake wedged the item between his thumb and pointer. It was a key, presumably to Junior’s house. It was a clean silver with a keylink attached to the hole on the top. If you squint hard enough, you could make out the faint detailing on the body. “Don’t you need this for yourself?” He asked as he unlatched his necklace. The key slid on easily.
Junior shrugged. “I always carry a spare. Just in case.”
Jake always wore his house key on his neck, hidden under his shirt. He didn’t have money for a spare. Plus, the added weight felt nice against his chest. “Thank you.” He whispered.
He was treading lightly, scared if he spoke too loudly, Junior would go back on his word and rip the key off his neck. The cousins waited with bated breath for something to go horribly wrong, or a lunge from the other. When nothing came, they smiled.
Or, well, what they could manage of a smile. Junior’s lips quirked up on one side in a half-assed attempt, and Jake offered a sort-of grimace. It was progress, though, so they’ll accept it.
“Okay.” Junior coughed after the moment passed. “I’m gonna…” He made a vague gesture towards the entrance. “Right! Okay, yeah. Bye.” Jake laughed. It was awkward and very forced, but Junior laughed too. He flicked his fingers in salute and exited the room.
And in the emptiness of the bathroom, Jake realized he’d stopped shaking a while ago.