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Secrets are coming out

Jackson was making his rounds down the halls. He spotted Frankie, greeting her warmly, he chuckled a bit awkwardly as she did the same. Given, who wouldn't have found her greeting funny? She waved via waving her dism*mber*d hand. That was pretty funny to Jackson. This was great. He loved going to school at Monster High. Almost Everyone was nice to him and Holt, he loved learning (especially mad science), and he really liked the school lunches too. That was rare for any school. Good lunch? Impossible, but not for Monster High. Today he was wearing his usual with a big hoodie on top. It was Holt's, given, but it was very soft and made Jackson feel all kinds of cozy. Everyone was wearing something extra to keep warm that day. The heaters were out again. He entered his next class, sitting himself down. He was always the first in class. None of the teachers seemed to mind, especially since he was quite, well-behaved, and used his time to study up on subjects he may have been lacking in. He would've took those extra minutes to hang out with his friends, but they were all so busy. Frankie had so many friends... practically the whole school! She had enough on her plate, a simple wave hello would do it. Deuce was normally busy with Cleo and his other friends. Not the Deuce wouldn't have included Jackson, he just ended up feeling like a third wheel.
So he just stayed in the classrooms before they started. Mr. Rotter was one of Jackson's favourite teachers. He was pretty cool in Jackson's opinion. He knew so many dead languages, it was amazing. And Mr. Rotter always spoke in those languages while prepping for class. It was fascinating.
Not the point.
This day was a bit different. Jackson had on his biggest hoodie that day, something he would've never wore. But the heater broke at school so it make a bit of sense. Mr. Rotter knew better. The heater had broke before and Jackson still wore the same thing. "Jackson, My boy?" Rotter said a few minutes before class would start, walking up to where Jackson was seated. Jackson was working in his notebook, writing equations down. "Yeah, Mr. Rotter?"Jackson asked, keeping his head down. Rotter felt this was even more suspicious. "Mr. Jekyll, you can't have your hood up once class starts and I advise you look at people when spoken to. It's considered very rude." Jackson nodded at that, "Okay. I'll take it off when class starts." Rotter knew something was up but he wasn't going to pry. He'd like to keep his job and maybe there was nothing to it.
Rotter sat himself at his desk, waiting for his students to come in. After a few minutes the class was packed. Rotter saw out of the corner of his eye Jackson.
He had his hood down, good.
He was using a textbook to cover his face, suspicious. Also not good.
He'd have to talk to him after class.
The end of class happened and Jackson ended up rushing out of class before Rotter could talk to him. Suspicious, but he figured maybe he was in a rush.
Jackson put his hood back up and dodged through the crowd of monsters. He went to the creepateria, getting his food as fast as possible. He paid, then sat himself in the corner. It was the one empty table, not very visible at all from the door.
He started eating, trying his best to keep a low profile. That did not last long. "Holt!" A familiar voice called out. They assumed Jackson was Holt because of the hoodie. Yeah... he could've saw that coming. He didn't dare look up. "C'mon, dude, what gives?" Deuce, the source of the voice asked as he sat down with his tray. He could tell something was wrong. Holt always tracked him down. He wanted to hang out, eat lunch together, play casketball, just do anything. "I don't wanna talk about it." Jackson said, trying to keep his voice down. "Jackson? Why are you wearing Holt's hoodie? I thought you hated stuff like that being on your head. A sensory whatever you called it." He knew normally Jackson would get really overstimulated by stuff like that, so it was weird. "Oh.. um... I'm fine." Jackson said f lately, going back to his food.
Deuce was leaving it alone for now. "Alright... but hurry up and finish your food. I want to talk in the bathrooms. Less people." He knew whatever was going on Jackson didn't want to share with the whole school. "Okay." Was all Deuce got back. Fair enough then. Both ate, Deuce being the champ of eating quickly.
Jackson stood up first, heading to the bathrooms. Deuce followed a few minutes later. He didn't want it to look weird.
Once they got there Deuce looked around, making sure no one was there. "Jackson, what's going on? I know you're overstimu-whatever you called it- in that hoodie, I haven't seen your face... I just know something isn't alright, dude. I need to know my best friend is okay." Something about that obviously stuck with Jackson. "I'll show you but you can't tell anyone, okay?" Deuce had gotten this far, he could risk Jackson chickening out now. "Fine, Dude." With that Jackson lifted his hood, looking at Deuce. His lip was busted open, his right eye was black, and the bridge of his nose was purple and brown. "Dude!" Deuce exclaimed, "Who beat you up?" Jackson thought a minute. He couldn't tell if this was a mistake or not. "My Mom got pretty mad at me last night." He said vaguely, trying to not give too much away. Deuce didn't know what to say. "Dude.. I.. Dude." He looked at Jackson's face. There was more than one type of hurt on it. Deuce stepped forward, getting a better look. "I know you didn't want to tell anyone but that lip is getting infected. I know someone who's great with this kind of stuff. If it could fuck up your face- she can fix it." Jackson hadn't put two-and-two together on who Deuce was talking about, but the idea of his face not hurting as bad anymore did sound really nice.
"Can you make sure she won't tell anyone?"
"I can try."
And with that, they were off to see Cleo.