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Summary: An old friend of David's is back in his life and set on making his life hell. Javid.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Disney's.
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The tradition that had formed was that Jack came home with David after a long day of selling papes on the street. This day was like every other. Jack and David had finished selling and went over to David's place to count up their profits for the day. They had come to the decision that they sold papers well together and even though David was secretly worried about having to give up selling papes when his father's arm healed, he continued to be Jack's "business partner." They were to split their profits for the day at David's place. And that was what they went there to do.
It started out ordinarily. Esther Jacobs, David's mother, invited Jack to dinner though he had started coming to dinner each day. The Jacobs's didn't have much money, but they didn't feel like Jack was imposing. They still had more than he did, and David was thankful that Jack kept coming over. Les loved him, and Sarah, well, Sarah was Sarah. She had kissed him in front of the whole crowd of kid strikers, and she still flirted with him a little, but it was clear that their relationship wasn't going anywhere.
It was a normal day. Jack was eating with the whole Jacobs family. So imagine David's surprise when Esther made a pretty random announcement.
"I ran into Peter and his mother today at the market. They asked about you, David."
David put down his fork that he'd been holding and side-glanced at Jack who was still eating, just a little slower. He couldn't discuss Peter in front of Jack. Because Peter and David had secrets that Jack could never, ever find about. David's family didn't even know.
"That's interesting." David finally responded, knowing he had to.
"I invited them over to dinner tomorrow night." Esther continued.
David looked at her sharply. His mother was being so casual, serving herself some of the bread. Did she not know she had just ruined David's life?
"That's nice, Mama." David answered, again looking at Jack. This time he noticed that Jack had stopped eating completely. Great, now he wanted to know what was going on. And he made that very clear as he and David went into David's bedroom after dinner.
"Hey, Davey, who's Peter?" Jack asked him as they walked to the window. It was another tradition that they spent time out on the balcony before Jack went home for the night.
David frowned. How to explain Peter Clarington? "My friend from school. Well, sort of. Not my friend but my friend at the same time."
Jack chuckled at that as he climbed through the window. David followed behind him watching Jack's figure. The moonlight shone on it, and Jack's shadow moved with him too. David realized he was staring and looked away. He'd caught himself staring more and more lately and he couldn't let himself do that anymore. If Peter saw David staring at Jack, that would be the perfect opportunity for Peter to spill his guts. That couldn't happen. David had put all of that behind him. Being a newsie had allowed him to start new. He was not going to ruin that, and he couldn't let Peter ruin that either.
"He ain't your friend but he's still your friend?" Jack asked, continuing.
"Yeah, we were better friends when we were little kids. We grew apart." David lied, looking up at the sky so that Jack couldn't see that it was a fib.
"Got ya. I had one of those." Jack revealed. David turned to him. It wasn't often Jack spoke about his past. Actually, David knew virtually nothing about Jack's past, except for the fact that Jack's dad was in prison and his mother was dead, and that his name was really Francis Sullivan. Besides that, David knew nothing at all.
"What happened?" David asked him curiously.
"The stuff with my ma and pop, and becomin' a newsie." Jack answered. "But I've got betta friends now anyway." Jack added, putting an arm around David's shoulders and squeezing him tightly. David could feel himself blush, but he was determined to make it stop. He had promised himself that he'd stop touching Jack so much. It made him feel a certain way. A way that he could not feel. A chill washed over David when he realized Peter would recognize this right away if Jack touched him at all the following night. Damn Peter.
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David stalled as long as he could the next evening. He tried to keep Jack out later than normal so that he wouldn't come to dinner, but it didn't work. Jack insisted on accompanying David home anyway, even when David promised that they would divy up the money later, maybe the next day. They could keep what they had in their pockets till then. But for some reason Jack kept insisting. David feared that Jack wanted to meet Peter. And he just couldn't say no, not to Jack.
They walked through the door to David's home, and David's eyes fell on the boy sitting at the kitchen table. Peter Clarington hadn't changed in the couple of months, and suddenly David felt horrible. He had always felt inferior to Peter. They had gone to the same school, but Peter had always had more, while David's family barely had enough to keep a roof over their heads. This was evident by Peter's clothes, so new and clean. His hair was slicked back. He had his constant smug look on his face.
David, himself, was dirty. His clothes needed to be washed and there was a dirt smuge on his face that he'd noticed in his reflection earlier. Jack wasn't as dirty, but that was because he wasn't as new as David was. He could easily dodge things while David unknowingly walked into them. A carriage had splashed David with mud earlier while Jack had been selling some papes, and it showed.
"David, your clothes!" David's mother immediately exclaimed.
"It's fine, Mama." David replied. "I'll just change."
"Aren't you going to say hello to Peter?" she asked him.
David turned to Peter, who continued to stare at him smugly. His words were forced. "Hi, Peter. How are you?"
"I'm great, Dave, thank you." Peter replied. "And if you're wondering why my mother isn't here-" David hadn't been. "-It's because I fear she's taken ill. She sends her best wishes."
David nodded and stood there. He knew he should go change his clothes, but what were the odds that Peter would reveal something bad while Jack was in there with him? David instinctively reached out to grab Jack's arm, but Jack didn't see; he completely dodged him and sat at the table, right across from Peter.
He hoped that Peter wouldn't say anything with his whole family there and went into his bedroom to change his clothes.
When he returned, everyone else was sitting at the table, and there was a place for David, right next to Jack.
"So I hear you're a newsboy." Peter announced, looking in David's direction. His tone made it clear just what he thought of David's being a newsie. He thought it was disgusting. Then again, Peter had never had to work a day in his life.
"It's how we met Jack!" Les declared. Les was no longer working as a newsie, but he still liked to spend time with Jack and David, and neither of the older boys minded.
"Are you still as... talkative... as you were in class?" Peter asked David, completely ignoring what Les said.
"Spot Conlon called him a Walkin' Mouth." Jack answered for him, grinning. "It's that mouth of his that helped us win the strike, right, Davey?"
"Yeah." David said shortly.
Peter raised an eyebrow. "A Walking Mouth... how appropriate." At that, David blushed, knowing that Peter was thinking of something else. Something from their past that David had wondered about aloud one day. He hoped his classmate would leave right after dinner.
No such luck.
Jack left before Peter did. David, Peter, and Jack stood on the balcony. For awhile, Peter asked Jack a bunch of questions, and Jack only answered a few. Finally, Jack said that he had to take care of something at the lodging house. He and David did their spit-handshake and then Jack climbed down to the street. When Jack was out of earshot, Peter finally spoke. "That handshake was... disgusting."
David realized just how much he had changed. He had thought the spit handshake was disgusting a few months ago. Now it just seemed natural. "It's what newsies do."
Peter turned to him. "So, how's life, David? Are you happy being a newsie? Being surrounded by several boys each day? There are so many to choose from, aren't there?"
David couldn't speak. Peter had that effect on him. If anyone else had been saying these things, David would have argued back. But he couldn't do that now. Not with Peter.
The boy continued. "I must say, though, Jack isn't a bad choice for who's probably available. Do you use your 'Walkin' Mouth' to do some magic on him, or what?"
"It's not like that." David muttered. He couldn't say anything else.
"Isn't it though? I saw how you looked at him throughout dinner. I don't suppose he knows, eh? About how you want to have inappropriate relations with him or your previous crush. You do remember our teacher, don't you? You remember how you once told me aloud you wanted to have intercourse with him, yes? I wonder what Jack would think about that." At David's silence, Peter continued. "I suppose you don't want Jack to know how much you want him, or wanted our teacher. How I caught you just before you were about to use that magic Mouth on our teacher? Well?"
"No, Jack can't know about the past. Or about whatever you think I feel about him." David answered. He knew what was coming.
"I have some chores I would like done." Peter continued, smirking. He crossed his arms. "And if you them, Jack will never know about this whole mess. Do we have a deal, Davey?"
Before he could even think about it, David immediately replied with a "yes."
"Good. I will see you at my house at four PM. Sharp."
With that, Peter went inside to say goodbye to the Jacobs family. David stayed outside on the balcony wondering why Peter chose to do this now. Why did he feel like he had to make David's life hell? All he really knew was that he had to do those chores or else everything would be ruined for him. His new life would be destroyed, and worse, his friendship with Jack and the other newsies.
And he couldn't handle that.