The weeks till school broke up passed pretty quickly, Isaac going under with all the essay deadlines and Jared putting a surprising amount of effort into meeting at least some of his. They had mocks as soon as they came back in January, so most of the lessons were a mad dash to finish the stuff they needed for those.
On the last day they had a Christmas church service, the whole school traipsing over to St Peter’s to sit in freezing pews while the Christian Soc. boys read from Isaiah. Ainesborough College was technically, traditionally, a Church of England School, so everyone was dragged along whatever faith they really were.
Jared usually just tuned out the vicar and sometimes even managed a quick power-nap- but this year there was Isaac sitting next to him, shrinking further into his coat as if trying to hide. When the vicar finished the prayer Jared caught the flicker of Isaac’s hand making the cross on his chest and then being jammed back down into his pocket, guiltily. Jared wondered briefly if the shame was because he was a Catholic, and maybe you weren’t supposed to do Catholic-y things in a Church of England service? But then, was crossing your chest even Catholic?
He would’ve asked Isaac about it, except whenever religion was mentioned Isaac got this small, scared expression on his face which Jared fucking hated.
So instead he just rolled up his program and poked Isaac with it till he turned round slightly in his chair.
“Not very festive, is it?” he whispered as the chapel choir sang something rather bleak and ‘stylishly’ atonal. Isaac gave a hesitant, lopsided smile.
“Definitely dark blue CD material,” he agreed under his breath. He turned back to face the front and then back, grin more pronounced now with his dimples on full show. “Maybe they should try doing it in flame leotards,” he whispered. “I’ve heard it adds endless pizzazz.”