All Again For You

Prologue

Jack Barakat was not a soldier. He wasn't a fearless warrior or a freedom fighter. He wasn't a hero. In fact, he was a freakin high schooler who'd just been in the right place at the right time.

He was generally out of gym a minute early- it wasn't like Coach Brewer gave two shits. "Gym" was pretty much just "run for an hour or play dodgeball- your choice". So Jack liked to leave a minute or two early so he could change and book it to lunch before Carter and his thugs of friends made it to the locker room. That was a piece of advice that Jack's senior buddy Austin Carlile had passed down to him. There was one instance where Jack had been adamant that "he was in 10th grade" and "he could take care of himself", which had ended in his justified ass-kicking and a long winded apology to Austin who'd just hugged him and offered to talk to the principal. Jack was going to miss him next year.

Jack was just slamming his locker shut and taking the long way around when he heard Carter say something unintelligible (which, wasn't that surprising to be honest). Jack halted, holding his breath. "What the hell are you doing in front of my locker?" Carter asked in his stupid club-bouncer-inhaled-helium voice. "I- I'm sorry-" A small voice said. Jack risked a glance around the set of lockers. There was Carter, in all his big, lardy glory. His twig friend stood next to him, Desmond, who reminded Jack of a ferret with Botox and a mullet on too much Aderall, snickered and muttered something about how "the punk was gonna get it". Then there was the boy who Carter was picking on. He wasn't short, but not as tall as Carter. Skinny, but not as much as Desmond. He wore a dark blue zipper hoodie and tight black skinny jeans. His bangs swooped to one side and his hair looked tousled, like he'd rolled out of bed and not given a fuck. He reminded Jack of, well, Jack. "What's your name, punk?" Carter prodded. The boy flinched. Jack assumed it was because Carter had spat while talking, but he would later find out that it was because the kid knew what was coming. "I don't have lunch money." The kid muttered, just loud enough so Jack could hear from his vantage point. "Nice to meet you, I Don't Have Lunch Money. I'm Carter, and I wanna be your friend." Carter's face twisted into what could be a pig smiling if pigs could smile. "Tell him your name, bitch!" Desmond cackled. Jack wanted to say something, but the words caught in his throat. The kid cringed. "A- Alex. Gaskarth." He said. Carter bellowed a laugh. "Alex Gayskarth, huh?" Desmond snickered. "Gayscarf!" He added. Carter laughed harder. Alex looked down at the floor. "Hey, Gaybarf!" Carter yelled at him. Alex's jaw muscles flexed. Jack knew that feeling, when you were trying your best to hold it in but god damn it was hard. It was time to intervene.

"Hey, back off Carter." Jack strode up to them. Carter and Desmond quit laughing to see who dared interrupt them. Alex looked up as well, his eyes a mix of hope and praise. "Well if it isn't Fag Baratwat!" Desmond chirped. Jack rolled it eyes. The name hurt, of course it hurt, but his priority was Alex. "You think of that one by yourself or did your mom have to spell it out for you?" Jack hissed. Carter gave Jack a warning glare. "Look, he's new. Go pick on someone your own size, 'kay?" Jack stepped between Alex and Carter, his back to the new kid. "We were just tryin to make friends." Carter's grin was like a shark, a fuckin great white shark. Of course Jack had to be stupid enough to go down in the fuckin shark cage with the meat suit. "You know what, Carter? Here-" Jack dug out his lunch money from his skinny jeans pocket, slamming it into Carter's chest. "Take this. Leave Alex alone." Jack's inner head voice was screaming at him. 'What the hell are you doing, man? You don't even know this kid! And now you have no lunch money! It was pizza day, you buttfuck!' Jack clenched his teeth, hoping Carter would take the money and spare his ass. Desmond looked between Carter and Jack. Carter counted the money and grunted, jerking his head to the door. They left and Jack exhaled. He turned around to see Alex, staring at him like he'd grown a second head. "What? Do I have something on my face?" Jack rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. Alex shook his head and opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again. "I- you- thank. Thank you. Thank you so so much." Alex's voice cracked like he was going to cry, but he didn't. Jack furrowed his eyebrows. "You okay? Um... Alex, right?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. What's your name? I... I assume it's not Fag Baratwat." Alex said with some disgust.

"Jack Barakat. It's a little bit worse." Jack joked, holding out his hand. Alex looked at it like he'd never been offered a handshake. He took his hand nonetheless. 'Oh great, yeah, great job Jack. You've got fuckin manners. Woo hoo. Your mama's proud. The fuck you gonna do bout lunch?' Jack cleared his throat. "You wanna, um, get lunch?" He offered.