One More Year

Chapter 4

He was at a distance, but it definitely looked like a handprint, the kind of bruise you get when someone grabs onto you and won't let go. It fit. Everything fit. Oversized sweatshirt, wrinkled jeans, Race thought he could see a slight shift from concealer to skin near his hairline. And he was so jumpy and so insecure, almost afraid of doing or saying something wrong.

Just like I was.

Jack set the paintbrush down and looked at the large canvas. Race looked too. It was good. Even better than what had already been done.

"Wow, Jack. That's amazing." He said sincerely.

Jack shrugged, pulling his sleeves back down. Race took a calculated risk.

"What happened to your arm?"

Jack froze, his shoulders going up in a defensive manner, "What'dya mean?"

"Your wrist, it had a bruise on." Jack glared at him, Race held up his hand in a peace offering manner. "Sorry, just trying to make conversation."

"I-it's fine." The older boy finally answered, "I jus', I hit it off somethin'. Wasn't pay'n attention and smacked it right down, think it was a table." He let out a forced laugh, "I can be a klutz sometimes, always doin' stupid things that get me hurt. I seem to always be covered in some kind of bruise."

I bet you do.

"So long as it doesn't stop you from painting. I don't know anyone else who can paint like that."

Jack looked like he was about to argue, but the door opened and his eyes widened in fear, jerking his head towards the noise and taking in a short, gasping breath. Medda walked in, and Race saw the look she gave Jack. She knew too. Or at least suspected. She would be one to notice.

"Hey, baby, just came to check on you two." She laid a hand or Race's shoulder and he smiled up at her. She moved forward, inspecting the backdrop, "Wow, Jack, this is incredible."

He looked extremely uncomfortable at the praise. "It was nothin'."

"Well, it's certainly something to me! I'd say it's a stroke of luck that you came when you did!"

"Hey momma, Jack should take some paint home so he can practice. Y'know, so he doesn't have to do it all here."

Race saw Jack's eyes widen slightly, and he mouthed, 'Momma?' Not the worst reaction he'd gotten. It was true they looked nothing alike.

"That's a wonderful idea, Race! Jack, feel free to take home anything you need. Any painting you do is considered practice, just like when I have the actors running lines." She smiled, and Jack seemed to try to return it.

Race decided to answer his unasked question, "Medda is my foster mom."

Jack's eyes darted between the two of them. He seemed to almost be searching for something. "Cool." He finally said completely void of emotion. His eyes stayed on Race for a moment. Race felt himself being scanned, he was going to let him. No reason to call him out on it. He'd probably scared him enough for one day.

The bell rang, causing Jack to jump.

"You boys should probably get to your next class."

Jack nodded and walked out far too quickly.

Race watched as he left. Medda laid a hand on his shoulder. "We'll keep an eye on him, okay? But getting involved without proof could just make things worse."

He nodded.

Medda squeezed his shoulder, offering a comforting smile. "Go on, get to your next class."

~N~

"Don't be an idiot." Race rolled his eyes. "That is quite possibly the worst idea I've ever heard."

"Coming from you?" Albert laughed, "Listen, all I'm saying is that if we put Limburger cheese in the air vents, they'd have to shut down the school."

"Yes, and then we'd both get expelled and that would just go over so well."

Race wasn't sure if Albert was really considering it, or if his brain just stopped working after the last bell. Either way, getting expelled was not on his current agenda. He was quite happy with where he was in life at the moment and had no interest in ruining it all because of some stupid prank.

Albert apparently wasn't listening, "Okay, so here's what I'm thinking-."

Race stopped listening, his eyes finding that kid from this morning, Jack, at his locker. He rubbed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the locker. Then he sighed, opening it and a look of surprise crossed his face. He looked around as if to make sure no one was watching, then he pulled out a granola bar. He eyed it carefully before shoving it in his pocket. Next came a grocery bag, he pushed it into his backpack, once again looking around.

Jack turned and left, never even noticing Race, who felt a pang of... Something. He wasn't even completely sure what it was. It wasn't really pitty. Maybe understanding? He had a good idea from where the bag came from, he would have to find out what they knew. And he would have to keep an eye on this Jack Kelly. 

~TH~

So that's the new chapter! It was fun to write Jack from someone else's perspective. 

Be sure to let me know what you think! 

The next chapter gets back to Jack's POV, but I will occasionally skip between characters.

If you have any thoughts, theories, or predictions, let me know! 

God bless,
Jamie