Unable to help the words that escape his mouth, Tucker breathes out and says, "Your fa-"
But Dizzy already knows what the typically reserved boy is going to say and quickly shuts him down. "Don't."
Tucker instantly obeys and closes his lips. He peers over at the clock and realizes there are only seven minutes until the start of homeroom in which attendance will be taken. Despite his record of perfect attendance, Tucker grabs Dizzy's hand and says, "Let's go."
"Woah, woah," Chance interjects as Dizzy rises. "Where are we going?"
Tucker shoots his step-brother a look who throws his hands up in mock surrender. "It seems like I won't be going anywhere," Chance says and raises an eyebrow at the pair who leave the classroom, Tucker's hand still entangled in Dizzy's.
Normally, Dizzy would have rejected Tucker and stayed where he was seated, but today is different. Today, his mind is elsewhere. And he feels nothing. It's as if he's a broken doll that's being dragged around with no say in his actions. But he doesn't care.
Tucker leads Dizzy into the bathroom just around the corner of their homeroom and is relieved when he finds nobody inside. That's because everyone else in the building is getting to their homerooms in time for attendance. Though, Tucker isn't thinking about that right now.
"What'd he do to you?" Tucker whispers, searching Dizzy's emerald eyes which appear empty.
"We fought," Dizzy replies. "My father lashed out at me."
"Why?" Tucker asks softly.
"He found out that I spent my last paycheck."
Tucker's heart drops.
"T-the one you used to buy me these glasses?" Tucker asks, knowing full well that his statement is indeed true.
Dizzy doesn't answer him.
"It's my fault," Tucker says. "It's my fault that you're-"
"No, Tucker," Dizzy cuts him off. "It's my fault. I was the one who broke your glasses in the first place."
Now it's Tucker's turn to remain silent.
"I've been providing my father with alcohol or whatever shit he requested since he found out about my part-time jobs. He said he'd kick me out if I didn't get him his liquor every two weeks. And so, part of my paycheck would go to his desires each time. But this time, I used it all on those glasses. There wasn't any left for his goddamn alcohol."
"So he beat you for it?" Tucker asks.
"He's a lunatic, a damned psychopathic loser," Dizzy says. "He thinks he's surviving off of that fuckin' liquor so he put his hands on me. He swung a fist and it connected with my eye. I'm so done, Tucker."
"I'm sorry-"
"Tucker," Dizzy sighs. "You didn't do anything. But you should get to class. You're bound to be late."
"I don't care," he replies and looks down at his hand.
It's still holding Dizzy's and he can feel the warmness of Dizzy's palm against his own. He hastily tries to remove his hand from Dizzy's after the realization but Dizzy squeezes them together.
"Then don't leave," Dizzy says.
"W-what?" Tucker asks, his hand beginning to sweat out of nervousness.
"You said you don't care about being late," Dizzy says. "So why go back now?"
"What do you mean?" Tucker asks.
Dizzy suddenly pulls Tucker's hand towards himself and Tucker falls into the taller boy's chest. He breathes in Dizzy's scent, bringing him back three years prior to when they were almost more than best friends. Dizzy lifts his arm and brings it around Tucker's back as his other hand caresses the back of Tucker's head and places Tucker's face in the crook of his neck.
Automatically, Tucker wraps his arms around Dizzy's broad back and relaxes for a brief moment.
"Thank you."
"Huh?" Tucker asks, still in Dizzy's arms.
"For being concerned about me," he replies and releases Tucker. "And I'm sorry for hanging up on you."
"I'm not going to forgive you that easily," Tucker says.
"You're not?" Dizzy asks and raises one eyebrow.
"Next time you get into a fight," Tucker starts, "Leave your apartment. Come to my house. And if I call you, answer the phone. Even if you're arguing. I can help you. And Chance can too."
Dizzy watches his childhood friend express his feelings and stays quiet.
"Don't make me worry."
Dizzy removes his eyes from Tucker and hangs his head down. "Okay."
It's the softest and most vulnerable Tucker has ever seen Dizzy be and he can't help but pity the boy even though Dizzy has said he doesn't want anyone's pity in the past.
The two are now four minutes late to homeroom and silently make their way back. Ms. Reyes takes one look at their faces and decides not to scold nor question where they had been.
Tucker takes a seat beside Alfie who examines Tucker's face.
"Are you okay?" he whispers.
"I'm okay," Tucker replies. "Thanks."
Ms. Reyes gives her students more time to talk about their projects as homeroom is going to end in ten minutes and chatter fills the room.
"Let me guess," Alfie says. "You were expecting a call from him, the guy everyone calls Dizzy last night."
Tucker's eyes shoot over to look at Alfie and stutters a response. "Y-you're wrong."
Alfie just laughs, the stutter being the confirmation he needs to know that he's correct in his guess.
"You said he's not a lover," Alfie continues. "But it didn't look like that by the way you grabbed his hand and led him out of the room."
"He's not," Tucker denies. "He wouldn't get up otherwise."
"Okay, okay," Alfie says, smiling. However, he doesn't believe the words that Tucker is telling him. "So it wouldn't be a problem if I asked you out Friday night?"
"W-what?" Tucker asks. "Why?"
Alfie grins, his blue eyes shining.
"As friends, Tucker," Alfie says. "What do you say?"
Tucker doesn't know what to say. Should he turn Alfie down or just go with him and make a new friend?
"I'll think about it," Tucker says.
"Don't let me down, Tucker."
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