okay so hi. i finally have the second and last chapter of this up. i know that not a lot of people have read this, but to those who have, i'm sorry for making you wait so long. i have a bad habit of not finishing anything that i start, but i really liked this idea, so...i just had to finish it haha. but anyway, i know i really rushed the end, but in all honesty, i wasn't really sure how else to go about it, so that's what you get. i'm in the process of writing out another story that's going to be a two or three-shot and i've fallen in love with the idea, and i wanted to hurry up and finish this so i can focus on that.
but anyway, i apologize for any and all mistakes that i have made. i didn't proof read this before i posted so yeah. :) without further ado, here's the chapter.
Carlos didn't bail.
The moment James saw the boy barreling towards him with a hockey helmet strapped securely to his head, the brunette couldn't fight the rush relief he felt. A sudden smile accompanied the feeling as the little Latino boy carried closer, an equally happy expression present on the tan face.
"Hey James!" Carlos huffed out, a bit breathless from running. He bent over, holding himself on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. "And I didn't forget your name, like I promised," he managed between heavy breaths.
"Hi there."
The two stood around the front of the school as James waited for the smaller boy to regulate his breathing. It would be rude of him to just try and carry on a conversation if the other participant can't even contribute. A few minutes passed before Carlos' breath finally caught up with him, letting him stand upright and flash a toothy grin.
"So what's with the helmet?" James asked, nodding towards the black plastic encompassing Carlos' head. "You weren't wearing it earlier."
"Hmm? Oh! That's because it's against the dress code," he mused, surprisingly cheerful on the subject. "They're really strict about the uniforms here." Carlos rolled his eyes before grabbing a fistful of the tie strangling his neck and yanking it loose. "But I took a nasty fall down the stairs when I was little and cracked my head open. Mamí says that I could've died, but they managed to patch me up before anything too serious happened. So now I wear one all the time, just in case!"
James gawked at the story. He honestly wasn't expecting that. Really, he thought Carlos was going to say something about not wanting the aliens to have access to his brain or something off the wall, not something awful like falling down the stairs. The story wasn't completely tragic or anything, but by no means was it happy. How Carlos was able to tell it and still have a smile on his face was beyond him.
"Plus I love hockey, so I kind of need it for that," Carlos quickly added in, looking up at James, that grin never leaving his face. "Hey-you wanna see my scar?"
"Uh…sure?"
The smaller boy made quick work of the helmet on his head, tugging it off and tucked it under one of his arms. His raven hair was quickly flattened against his head to show off a bold, white line trailing from his temple to the crown of his head where the hair grew out in swirls. James couldn't help but cringe at the sight and wondered how he didn't see it before. Imaging how much blood must have seeped out of the gash, how many stitches it must've taken to mend him back together, the pain; it made him squirm under his skin. James himself had never experienced anything more painful than a shot or a papercut before, so he immediately felt for the poor kid in front of him.
"Wow…" was the only word he could muster as the scar quickly hid behind the hard plastic of the helmet again. That grin never left Carlos' face as he looked back up to his new friend, and James had to admit, it was already starting to grow on him. He smiled back instantly.
"Pretty cool, right? It took, like, twenty-one stitches or something like that to sew me up. I wanted to keep them, but the doctor told me that it's unsanitary."
"Dude, that's not cool! Those could've been, like…some kind of awesome antique items when you get old!"
"I know! That's what I said!"
The two laughed and shared stories as they walked together, James leading the way to his house, which was only a few short blocks away from their school. He was honestly thoroughly amused at the boy walking next to him. Carlos had quite the vault of interesting stories, even at the "ripe young age of fourteen". Everything that was said was dripping with enthusiasm and met with full body gestures and a very animated face, all courtesy of Carlos.
James couldn't help but be just a little bit thankful that they got into that little scuffle in the lunch room just two and a half hours earlier.
They reached the nicer neighborhood after about ten minutes of walking, all the housing looking big and marvelous. All the kids referred to them as the "rich kid neighborhood" because of it.
"You live here?" Carlos breathed out, whatever story he was telling at that moment instantly pushed aside. The Latino's steps slowed to an almost complete stop as he gawked at the house. It was pretty decent in size, and had at least two floors to it. If he had to guess, Carlos would say that James' house could easily be double in size of his own. A small pang of jealousy hit him as the two walked up to the front door.
"Uh..yeah. I do," James replied and grinned, obviously amused at how flabbergasted the other boy was. They step inside and are instantly hit with the aroma of something cooking. "I'm home, ma'!" He quickly tugs off his shoes and throws them off to the side before weaving his way through the living room and into the kitchen.
The shyness starts to settle inside of Carlos as he matches James' actions, tentatively following him to the kitchen. He sees James standing relatively close to a woman about the same height as him (he can only assume that the woman is james' mother), picking something out of the pan she's cooking out of. A small smile creeps on the Latino's face as he inches towards the two.
Sensing his presence, James whips his head around and somewhat startles the smaller boy before he's grinning, chewing a mouthful of food. "Mom, this is Carlos," said James, tugging on her sleeve. He unashamedly steals another bite or two from the pan again and holds some of it out for Carlos, who takes it despite being unsure of what it is. That fact aside, it was pretty good. His compliments to the chef.
Mrs. Diamond turns around with the same dazzling smile as her son plastered on her face and Carlos can feel his mouth go dry. She's got tastefully short hair and just enough eye make-up to bring out her sparkly hazel eyes. Not surprisingly, her face resembles James' a lot more than he was expecting, but not in a creepy way. She was different enough to not look like James with a wig and make-up on. Her body wasn't too bad either; practically all legs.
In layman's terms, Mrs. Diamond was hot.
"Hi, Carlos," she greets with a voice so smooth and sweet, Carlos goes a little weak in the knees. "It's nice to meet you. Welcome to the Diamond household, honey!"
Carlos was sure that he fell in love right at that moment.
"Um.." James raised an eyebrow, watching Carlos' mouth open and close like a fish out of water. "W-welcome Minnesota, Mrs. Diamond!" he finally stammered out.
James decided not to point out the fact that Carlos completely forgot a word in his sentence because it was funny to him. Definitely something he'll have to poke fun about later on.
"Oh, please, call me Lisa. Mrs. Diamond makes me sound so old." She frowned and cocked her head to the side when Carlos started shaking his head wildly. "Why not?"
"Because! My mom always taught me to respect people older than me, and I'm meeting you for the first time so I just-"
"I insist that you call me Lisa, Carlos."
"No. I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because!"
James stood off to the side as he watched his mom and friend go back and forth with each other. It was pretty entertaining to see and it was a good distraction for Mrs. Diamond so he could steal more food out of the pan. He frowned as he scooped up the last of what his mom was cooking, wiping his hand on his pants. The food was good and he was still hungry, but dinner was just a few hours away, so he had to wait. How torturous.
"Dude, just call her Lisa. She's not gonna stop until you do," James said around half-chewed food. "You can't say 'no' to her."
A deep and defeated frown passed on the tan face, muttering a "fine" before crossing his arms over his chest. And he was definitely not pouting. Pouting is for children.
"Okay, well, Carlos and I are gonna go do guy stuff now," James said as he tugged on Carlos' arm and started to lead him away quickly. "Thanks for the food, mom!"
Mrs. Diamond blinked and shot a questioning look in her son's direction. "Food? I didn't give you any…" The sentence trailed off when she looked back down at her pan, noticing that it was completely empty. "James Isaac Diamond, you little snot! You owe me food, mister!"
"Love you!"
"Your mom is hot," Carlos stated as he dropped himself onto James' bed.
Completely mortified that his friend would even say such words, James shot Carlos a disgusted look over his shoulder. "Dude!"
Carlos raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"She's my mom, that's what!"
"So? She's still hot, and I'm going to marry her someday," the Latino retorted with a dreamy sigh laced between his words. He leaned back on the bed, now lying on his back, fantasizing behind closed eyelids.
James rolled his eyes as he tossed his backpack onto Carlos' stomach. "She's already married to my dad, genius."
"Who cares? I'll make it happen!" Carlos shot back, pushing the backpack onto the floor with a thud. "That means I'm going to be your step-dad, so you'd better start listening to me now."
"I'll never accept you."
The taller teen made his way to his closet to change into "normal clothes". He changed quickly so Carlos didn't feel awkward about being in the same room as a semi-naked boy for a short amount of time.
"You will eventually," Carlos said with a shrug. "I know you will. You'll love me."
"No, I'll turn into that rebel kid and get my lip pierced and I'll sneak out at night and do a million drugs and blame all of the world's problems on you."
"Well…as long as you don't start wearing make-up, I guess I could learn to deal with that."
James rolled his eyes again, but let a grin spread across his face. "You're ridiculous." He got two pats of Carlos' helmet in return. The boy stalked over to where the other was lying and shrugged his shoulders, unsure of what to say next. "So…you wanna go play some video games or something?"
"Chyeah, I do!" Carlos instantly shot up and off of the bed, a wide smile present on his face. "Do you have any violent games?"
"Uh, duh. What other kind of games are there?"
They were in the basement, otherwise known as "James' game cave". Almost anything one could ever want was down there. In one room was a large T.V. with surround sound. Inside of the entertainment centre, various gaming systems could be seen hooked up to the screen. Off near the back was a small fire place, a pool table, and a stage that could easily fit at least two people on it.
That was the first thing that caught Carlos' eye.
"What's that stage?" he asked, pointing towards the stage as he approached it.
"That? That's a little karaoke section. We brought the machine from Dad's bar when we moved," James explained. "I used to entertain the customers on the weekends."
Carlos whipped his head towards James, a small glint in his eye. Music related things had always been a guilty pleasure of the Latino's. "You sing?"
"Yeah, a little bit, I guess. Everyone always said I was good, so…"
"I want to hear," Carlos deadpanned, that smile never leaving his face. James instantly shook his head. It was one thing to sing in front of strangers, or once in a while, the regular customer, but it was another to do it for one person, let alone a friend. For some reason, it was always more nerve-racking when you have an audience of one. "Oh, come on, James!"
After fifteen minutes of protesting, heavy convincing and a good round of puppy dog eyes, James finally agreed to sing one song for Carlos, but one and only one. Walking up onto the stage, he started up the machine and took the microphone in his shaking hand. To say that he was nervous was a bigger understatement than he was expecting. He scrolled through the songs as the screen lit up, trying to find one of the songs that he knew he could sing decently. After much contemplation, he decided on My Way by Frank Sinatra.
James looked past the microphone in front of him to glance at Carlos with nervous eyes. "I hope you don't mind Frank Sinatra," he said as he tried to hide the trembling in his voice.
"I actually love Frank Sinatra," Carlos replied with a soft smile. He was sitting on a backwards chair, resting his arms on the back as he laid his head down in his arms to watch his friend.
Well, that's a good and bad thing, James figured. It's awesome because that means Carlos has good taste in music, but that also meant that he knew how the original song is supposed to sound and will probably be judged even harder than before. If he wasn't nervous before, he definitely was after that statement.
As the music started, James could feel his pulse get impossibly faster. He spent the first minute or so of the song avoiding Carlos' pokerface, looking everywhere but in his direction. But slowly, as the song went on and got more intense, the heavy anxious feeling that filled his body melted away. Eventually, James was completely lost in the music and honestly forgot that Carlos was even in the room with him.
"Yes, it was my way." The final notes of the song rang out, James' voice lowering significantly before quickly putting the machine away. Carefully, he made his way over to where Carlos was sitting, taking slow and deliberate steps all while nervously picking at his nail beds. Carlos' face hadn't changed from the blank look he had when the song started and it made the taller boy ten different kinds of fidgety. He disliked, more than anything, not being able to identify someone's emotions, and all he really wanted to do was to tell his friend to just come out and say that he did a terrible job and should never open his mouth ever again.
But when a grin broke out onto Carlos' face as he leaped up from the chair, all of the insecurities that bothered him washed away.
"Dude, that was so good!" Carlos was jumping up and down where he stood in front of James, latching his hands firmly onto the taller boy's arms, effectively shaking him.
"You think so?" James didn't even try to hide the grin on his face.
"Chyeah! I think you could get famous with a voice like that!"
He's not quite sure what happened, but something inside James had clicked into place the moment those words left Carlos' mouth. It wasn't the first time that someone has told him something like that, but it was different now. This was Carlos saying it, his first friend in Minnesota. All those other people, they were just that; people. They had no significance and more than likely, James would never see them again, so as far as he was concerned, they were just saying those nice things just to say them.
"You should be a popstar."
James' smile somehow grew even wider, stretching from ear to ear, possibly further. The more he thought about it and imagined himself up on stage, thousands, possibly millions of people chanting his name and singing along to his music, the more he wanted it to happen. Thanks to Carlos, that ambition (or what little he had of it) that he thought he left in New York came back tenfold. James Diamond was going to be a world famous popstar, and that was that.
"Yeah," James said, smirking down at his friend. "I'm going to be famous."