Chapter 87

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Jack was using his Sunday afternoon to organise all of his art things into different piles.

He had all of his watercolours stacked on top of each other in one of the piles.

His acrylic and oil paints were in a tub together so he piled the few tubs on top of each other.

All of his chalks and charcoal were in separate piles depending on which they are so none of the colours could mix.

His pencils and rubbers were all in a pencil case lying across all the piles and his brushes were in a cup beside it.

Davey sometimes told him that he shouldn't take up so much if his desk space since it would make it harder for doing work on but most of the work he did at it was art.

He was putting the last of his paintbrushes into the cup when he heard a knock at the door.

He turned around to see Race standing in the doorway, playing with his hands.

He stood up from his chair and walked over to him with a smile on his face, trying to help settle his nerves slightly.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked once he reached Race.

He knew it would be pointless to ask Race if he was ready, he knew he would never be truly ready so he'd just do it whenever Race was.

Race nodded, still playing with his hands.

"I got you something so you're not hurting your fingers. It's not much but I thought it might help," Jack explained.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. "It's a fidget ring. I think it's about your size."

He handed the ring to Race who took it happily and tried it on. Much to both of their delights, it fit him perfectly.

Race pulled Jack into a tight hug and Jack happily returned it.

"Thank you Jacky," he whispered into Jack's shoulder.

"Of course Racer."

They pulled apart and set off for Ms. Medda's office together. Jack had his arm around Race's shoulders to keep him calm and Race was using his fidget ring with a small smile gracing his lips.

They had reached her office's door and were about to knock when Jack felt Race go stiff beside him.

He turned to face him and saw his face was white as a sheet.

"What's wrong Race?" he asked in the most soothing voice he could muster.

"I- I can't tell her. She'll hate me," he said quickly, his breathing picking up.

"Can I touch you Race?" he asked. He silently cursed when Race shook his head and took some steps back from him. "Okay, that's okay. I want to help you Race, I promise I won't hurt you. I'll never hurt you. Can I touch your right hand and a tiny bit of your wrist, it's only to help calm you down. I'm not going to touch you anywhere else."

He slightly sighed in relief when Race nodded.

He took Race's hand and put it to his chest. "Okay, deep breaths. That's it. You're okay, I promise. Follow my breathing," he whispered to Race. He was sure half of the things he said weren't even heard but they seemed to help him so that's all he cared about.

"I'm sorry," Race whispered once he'd calmed down enough to speak.

"You don't need to be sorry and Ms. Medda will never hate you. You are the bravest person I know," Jack said, still holding Race's hand. "Do you still want to do it now or wait?"

"I'll do it now, just, please don't leave me to do it on my own," he told Jack.

Jack nodded and the pair walked up to the door and knocked.

~~~
631 words

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