This Guy {Lams}

Chap. 2

TW- gay slurs, blood? depression

A/n 

so i realized with john being 15 that mary would literally not be born yet in real. life. they were 16 yrs apart- this is just for the story so they are all closer in age.

John's POV

I woke up after falling sleep while sketching another picture of my friends.

As I walk to my door, I hear a knock-

"Jacky- get your ass out here." My father demanded.

"Yes da- father. I will be there ASAP." I reply, softly. I grab my bag, shoving my sketchbook, pencils, erasers, and a fine-liner into it. I open the door and swiftly run down the stairs, not falling this time...

"Jack, come eat breakfast, dear." My mother smiled, nodding her head towards the pile of pancakes. I nod in reply, putting my bag down beside the stairway. I take my seat around the round table. Martha is on my right, Mary to my left. Mother is beside Mary, James next to mother, Henry Jr. between Martha and 'father'. I was the eldest of my siblings, then Martha, Henry Jr, James, and Mary. I just turned 16, Martha was turning 14 soon, Henry Jr was 12, James was 9, and Mary was 6.

I picked up a plate, dousing my pancakes in syrup.

"Jacky, you motherfu-- I mean Jacky, do you really need that many more calories? You could lose a few..." Father says, catching himself with cursing in-front of mother. 

"I think he's beautiful, darling." Mother replies, winking at me with a soft smile. I smile back, passing the bottle to the Martha. 

"Thanks for breakfast, mom." I say politely while cutting my pancakes with my fork.

"Anytime, Johnny." She smiles brighter. She loves seeing us happy. It's sweet. I would do anything for mother.

-

I finish breakfast after a few minutes, excusing myself. I grab my bag and head for the park. The park is my favorite place to relax and draw, they also have turtles around the pond. I head out the door, hopping on my bike. After 8 minutes, I arrive to the park. I sit my bike against a bike rack and head to my spot in the grass beside the pond.

I continue my drawing from last night. I line it with my black liner, flipping to the next page. I continue to draw nature- plants, turtles, birds, fish- just random doodles across the page.

"Ow!" I whisper as I feel a sudden pain on my back. I look up and see Thomas Jefferson leaning above me, snickering.

"Hey turtle boy." He smirks and starts to laugh softly.

"Yes, Jefferson?" I ask, annoying hints in my voice.

"Bitch, don't give me that attitude, fag," Thomas extends the last word.

I suddenly freak out in my mind, but I stand up. I act more confident than I feel. 

"At least I don't suck Madison off every night." I retort, smirking at his face flushing.

"Would you like to repeat that?" Another voice says, coming from behind Jefferson. It was Hamilton.

Hot as hell Hamilton. His leather jacket was over a maroon shirt, black ripped jeans leading down to his black high-top Converse. Damn.

I raise an eyebrow, "I said 'At least I don't suck Madison off every night', you deaf or some shit?"

His eyes flash with anger, relaxing back into his normal rbf- resting bitch face. "Look, I don't need to start a fist-fight with a faggot. I don't feel like beating the shit out of you, again, I might add. I don't wanna get in trouble before school starts- see ya tomorrow, fag." Hamilton replies.

He turns on his heel, walking back to Jefferson's fancy ass car. "I'm not done with you, but as Hammy- Hamilton said, see ya tomorrow." Jefferson goes to turn, but I grab his shoulder, firmly, but not hard.

"Did... you just call Hamilton... Hammy?" I burst into a fit of laughter. Jefferson goes beat red. His arm reaches back. I just sigh, knowing what's about to happen. He punches me in the jaw before sprinting back to the car. I stand there, un-phased. 

I pack my shit up and I grab my phone from my pocket. I look in the camera and see my jaw already bruising, and I have a metallic taste in my mouth- a little bit of blood that I spit out... Well... fuck.

-

I race home, open the door, and sprint up the stairs to my room. 

I sit on my bed, criss-cross, grabbing some concealer I sometimes used to cover up my ugly-ass freckles. I started applying it to my bruise when I hear my door opening. I whip my head back to see Martha. 

She sees the bruise and rushes up to me, jumping into my lap, embracing me into a hug. I laugh, dropping my make-up sponge and capping my concealer. I wrap my arms around her.

"Jack-- John, what happened?" She questioned, worriedly. 

"Martha, calm yourself, silly." I ruffled her hair as she clutched my shirt, still hugging me. "I went to the park, as usual, and it was just Jefferson and Hamilton. Oh- and thank you for calling me John, Martha." I smiled softly at her when she looked up as I mention the two twats.

She smiles in reply, and I remembered something. "Hey, M, guess what Jefferson called Hamilton today?" She looked up, ushering me to continue. I stifle a few giggles before I shout, "HAMMY." We both burst into giggles, her still in my lap. I pick her up and set her beside me. "Anything happen while I was gone?" I continued my putting concealer on.

"Not much. Ma yelled at Pops for cursing. It was kind of funny." She gave a smile, helping with my concealer.

"Hows about once I'm done covering up my jaw, we go out to eat at the diner across the street?" I propose.

"Just you and me, John?" Her eyes lit up.

"Yeah, you goof-ball." I ruffled her hair once more. She runs to get ready, as do I.

-

After we both finish changing, she runs back in. "Can you braid my hair, Johnny. I miss you doing that." She smiled, hopefully. I nod, complying. 

I braid her hair into two pigtails, suiting her overall-dress and pale pink top. She grabs her pink Vans, quickly shoving her feet into them. She tosses me my black Vans, ushering me out the door.

"Hey Mom! Can Martha and I go on a walk? We'll be back before 7!" I yell from upstairs, still in my room. I look at the clock- 5.

"Yes, darling." She softly calls back.

Martha squeals, rushing us both to the diner.