Jack tapped his pencil on his homework rapidly as he read and re-read the same paragraph of his English homework. For some reason, all of the words blended together, and none of them made sense.
He'd slammed his laptop shut the moment he'd sent the message, and it still sat at the edge of his desk, almost taunting him. He'd signed into the new account on his phone, and it seemed as if his ears were hyper-tuned to any noise it made. He'd gotten a handful of notifications, including a coupon for bath and body works in his spam mail and a message from one of his (fairly inactive) social media accounts.
He stood up, slamming his pencil down in frustration. "God, damn it…" He ran his fingers through his messy hair. He looked at the clock. It had only been an hour since he sent the message to the mysterious Red.
"Who am I kidding," he mumbled, under his breath. "He's probably not even going to respond."
Jack groaned, looking up at the ceiling with his hands on his head. He closed his blue eyes, trying to calm his beating heart. It hadn't stopped racing since he first read the confession. He'd never told anyone in his life since he realized his identity, even though sometimes his tongue itched to scream it from the rooftops.
He slumped back into his chair, head in his hands. He felt stupid, ridiculous for ever thinking that anyone would ever believe or listen to him, or even talk to him about that kind of thing for that matter.
"Jack?"
He opened his eyes and looked up from the desk. He looked around at the small, empty room and knew he was hearing things that weren't there. He knew they weren't, because she couldn't be there. Shaking his head, he bit his lip and looked out of his window at the moon.
Round and full, the moon was peeking through breaks in the cloudcover. He liked to believe that maybe there was someone out there; just listening. He knew there wasn't, which is why he didn't count the moon as someone he'd confessed to.
He chuckled to himself. I'm so stupid, talking to the goddamn moon instead of talking to my friends.
Jack had contemplated it. Dozens of times. Some nights, he'd stay up staring at the ceiling, going over the scenario in his head. Coming out to his friends. Sometimes, he'd imagine it going well, with acceptance all around, but mostly he just thought up all the millions of ways it could go wrong. He needed his friends, he felt alone enough already. He didn't need to lose anyone else.
"Hey Manny." He sighed, glancing down at his homework. "I really wish you were real. Or that you could talk back to me. I could really use someone right now. I know that doesn't mean anything, since I'm talking to a literal floating hunk of space rock hundreds of miles away, but…
"Please let things get better. Even if you're not real, if there's a god or something who's listening, please. I don't know how I can do this for another year and a half."
His voice faded out, and the crickets filled the empty silence. He closed his eyes. I don't know what I expected.
Jack woke up the next morning fifteen minutes before his alarm went off. For a few moments, all was still and Jack felt nothing but the drowsiness in his eyes. Then the events of the previous night rolled back into his head, and suddenly the drowsiness was gone. He pulled out his phone from under his pillow, only to see no new messages. Sinking back into his pillow, he turned his phone back off.
Every noise he heard, when he was in the shower, eating breakfast, even standing outside waiting for Merida, he would anxiously peek at his phone, thinking it could be a message. But it was nothing, no new messages. Every time.
Merida pulled up in the driveway, and Jack hopped into the passenger's seat, setting his bag at his feet. "Ey, freezy boy."
"What?"
"Just saying 'ello in the mornin', is that a crime?"
"Oh, hello." Jack pulled out his phone again, glancing at the empty lockscreen.
Merida drove for a minute, before snapping her fingers right in front of Jack's face. "Oi, earth to Jack."
Jack looked up, laughing a bit. "What? I'm totally good. I'm fine."
"Whatever you say, Overland."
Punzie hopped into the car. "Hey, guys, I had the weirdest dream last night."
Jack smiled and looked back at the blonde-haired girl. "You have the 'weirdest' dream every night, Punzie."
"No, seriously, this one was sooo weird, I was on the bachelorette, and one of the guys was like holding hands with another dude and it was so gay!"
Jack blinked, then said nothing but "Oh," while Merida laughed along.
Usually those kind of things didn't faze Jack so much, how people would spit the word "gay" like it was an insult, but just the sheer fact that it was Punzie and Merida made him want to shrivel from anxiety.
Elsa got in the car, and Punzie repeated her story, all the while Jack sat silently, checking his phone every two minutes.
No messages.
The clock seemed to tick extra slow today. His math teacher droned on while Jack anxiously scribbled and filled in the spaces in the letters on his notebook.
He felt his phone buzz.
His eyes opened a little wider as he slowly snuck his phone out of his pocket, but the teacher turned and Jack shoved his phone back in his pocket before he could see.
"Anyone?"
Jack raised his hand.
"Yes, Jack!" The teacher pointed at him.
"Can I go to the bathroom?" Jack said, a bit of anxiety laced into his voice.
"Oh. Yeah. Does anyone have the answer?"
Jack got up and walked out of the classroom, speeding to the bathrooms. Once he got in, he checked under the stalls before locking himself in one. He opened his phone, tapping on the app.
No messages.
"What?" He mumbled in frustration. He was sure he'd felt something. Positive, he thought. Now he was just making things up again.
He sighed and walked back to class.
"Ew, I just found a press on nail in my salad!" Punzie groaned.
The girls looked at each other, then over at the salad bar.
"Debbie."
Jack would have laughed with them- or, well, gagged- but he was too busy looking down at his phone. It kept giving him a "cannot connect" message, and he'd tried refreshing the page. He was frustrated, and he swiped up multiple times to refresh again, but it just lagged.
"God, why is there no cell reception in this school?" Jack said, standing up, grabbing his bag, and walking away, leaving his full lunchtray and three confused girls.
He walked through the halls, trying to get a signal. His frustration only grew as nothing showed up.
"Jackson!" The principal of the school cheered, snatching Jack's phone out of his hand. Jack felt his heart rate increase and his stomach sink as he remembered the rules. "What are you doing, you know that there's no cell phones in the halls."
"Yeah, Mr. Peterson, I know but-"
"No buts!" He walked away with his phone in his hand. "You can collect it from me after school," he called, holding up his phone and swinging it back and forth.
Jack grumbled and walked to his next class.
"Hey, Merida." A voice came from behind Jack, aimed for the fire-haired girl that stood next to him.
"Oh. Hi, Percy."
The lanky, black-haired boy stood uncomfortably between Merida and Jack, his elbow resting on Jack's door, keeping it shut.
"Hey, could you move your-"
"So, Merida, I'm excited for our next competition. I'm sure I'll hit all bullseyes this time. I've been practicing."
"Cool." Merida was completely and entirely disinterested.
"You doing anything after that meet?"
"Nope."
"Wanna-"
"Listen, Percy, I gotta go. C'mon, Jack."
Percy glared and smacked shoulders as he walked away from Jack, grumbling the whole time. "That was idiotic," Jack said to Sandy, who rolled his eyes and nodded. He grabbed his things and walked away happily.
"Hold up, Merida. I have to get my phone."
"Hurry up, I want to get home so I can sleep for like, four hours."
Jack rushed into the office and to the Principal's office. He knocked lightly on Peterson's door, peeking in. The man looked up. "Ah, Jack." He opened his drawer, which was full of several collected phones. He outstretched his phone, and just before Jack was about to take it, he pulled it back, raising his eyebrow.
"Yeah, I know, no texting in the halls. Got it."
Peterson nodded and handed his phone back.
Jack eagerly opened it.
No notifications.
Ding!
Jack looked up, opening his eyes. His phone sat in the corner of his desk, lit up with a notification. He glanced out of his window, blinked, then grabbed his phone and opened the message.
Dear Frost,
You too, huh? It feels good to know that there's someone else out there like me. Even if I don't know who you are. It's just reassuring I guess, knowing I'm not alone. So, how did you find out? I realized when I was thirteen and fantasizing about Harry Potter that I realized, well, yeah, uhhhhh definitely not straight… Anyway, I'm curious.
-Red
Jack laughed, and started typing.
Dear Red,
I totally know what you mean, about knowing there's someone else out there. I realized that I was gay when I was with my first girlfriend in the 8th grade. I was at a dance, and she said she was falling in love with me, and I was like "uh thanks be right back"... I left the dance. Not my proudest moment.
Do you have any interests? I just wonder if we have anything in common. Other than the gayness, of course.
-Frost
It was weird, sending such information over email under a pseudonym. But somehow, he felt… Relieved. He knew it would still be hard to hide himself at school, but he felt maybe it wouldn't be so bad, having someone else to talk to. To be open to.
Of course being gay wasn't everything in Jack's life, but it was a part of him, and it was terrifying knowing that the world might not like him for who he was. Then again, he thought, I'm practically invisible at school anyway.
But he knew that he'd take nothing over disapproving glances and potential bullies. He wondered who the boy on the other side was, and he wondered if he'd ever know. Did he know him? What if he already knew the person? What if it was some asshole?
He'd calmed down for a moment, but his heart was beating wildly again. Anxiety was something that silently plagued Jack, and he never really showed it. Oftentimes, he'd spend hours thinking and rethinking made-up scenarios, wondering how people would react.
Sometimes, Jack wondered if anyone would notice if he disappeared.
Of course, he knew they would- his friends would know. But a part of him still feared that they were better off without him. He laid down in bed, leaning his head back and covering his eyes with his forearm.
Ding!
He pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket. Another message already.
Dear Frost,
That's pretty funny. Of course I have interests, other than guys. (Sorry, that was lame, I know).
Jack chuckled to himself. It wasn't lame at all, in fact it was his kind of humor: blatant sarcasm.
I like drawing and sculpting. Mostly dragons. I like designing and making new things, and I've made some ceramic sculptures of dragons that I've drawn. It's pretty fun. Some people think it's lame, but I don't. I also like music, mostly alternative and soft stuff. I've always wanted to play guitar, but I don't have one so I can't really learn.
What about you? You never talked about your interests.
-Red
Jack smiled. He seemed nice, and besides, he was taking an art class this year. Maybe he knew whoever it was, even if only by face.
"Christ almighty, Jack, you look worse than ya did yesterday," Merida said, her eyebrow raised.
"Yet he's still smiling."
"Thank you, Elsa, for the great input." Jack smiled and rolled his eyes. "You know you don't have to talk about me in the third person? Like? I'm in the room?"
"Yeah yeah, tenses are hard." Elsa punched his shoulder lightly, smiling, but a moment later the smile faded and she looked at her full lunch tray.
"So what's up with you? I swear to god, you're like, lost in thought. And always on yer phone."
Jack shook his head. "It's nothing." His phone dinged again, and Merida and Jack looked at each other for a moment before diving for the phone. Merida got there first, and pulled it away from his pale hand.
"Hey, c'mon, give it back?"
"Why? Got somethin' to hide, Overland?" She tapped at his phone, grinning at it.
"I told you, it's nothing." His heart rate increased again. "Just give me my phone back."
"Damn, what's your code?"
"Like he'd tell you, Meri," Elsa said, trying to aide her friend. "Just give it back, yeah?"
"It says he's got a message. Ooo, who is it? Some lucky lassie dating mister frosty hair?"
Elsa looked at Jack, her face sinking again, while Jack pursed his lips, only slightly angered at the comment.
"Come on, Merida, grow up. Give the phone back."
"Ugh, fine, you're all such a buzzkill." Merida held out the phone to Jack, but just before he'd grabbed it, she pulled it away. Jack glared at her harshly. "Jesus, no need to take out yer relationship problems on me."
Jack took the phone. He looked over at Punzie, who was eating her food and talking to the rugged boy from far away. Flynn was telling her a story and making huge gestures with his hands. She was pretty invested, with her head resting on her elbow and eyes wide.
Since nobody was saying anything, Jack listened in.
"-was friends with them, we would do stupid stuff, like hide people's bags and generally prank people like that. But they totally screwed me over when they stole something and got me wrapped up, which isn't what I liked doing. You know?"
"Oh, that's awful. I don't know how that feels, but I know that it wasn't your fault."
"Hey, Flynn, mind if I asked what you stole?" Jack cocked his head. Merida and Elsa gave him a questioning look.
Flynn put his hands up defensively. "First of all, I didn't steal it. They framed me. Second, it was one of the school's brand new laptops. They stuck it in my bag."
"Ah. So it looked like you supposedly stole it."
"They found it. They were searching all of the troublemakers, which I won't deny I was. I try not to now- to be one, I mean. I don't like getting kicked out much."
"Makes sense."
Flynn shrugged and went back to telling his story. As he spoke, Jack zoned out in thought. He opened his messages and read it.
Dear Frost,
That sucks that you have to deal with a crappy foster mom. My mom's all I have, and I can't imagine losing her. She supports me all she can, but she barely makes enough for us to afford rent. I've been looking to get a job. I want to help her so that we can both live more comfortably. I can't afford college, which really sucks, but that's life.
If I could go to college, I'd be an engineer. I like drawing out new ideas and building and all that kind of hands-on kind of stuff. School's really expensive, though, so I try not to think about my dream job and instead focus on getting any job at all. I've applied to 3 places this week. I hope at least someone takes me.
Have you ever had a job?
-Red
Jack sighed. It made him sad that this guy couldn't fulfill his dreams. Then again, Jack couldn't either, so he knew what it felt like.
They'd been talking all night. The email thread had 79 messages already, back and forth between the two. Jack had to admit, he really liked the guy. He was nice, and funny, and seemed talented. He just wished he could see Red, this unknown face was swimming in his head.
He looked around the cafeteria and wondered who it could be, before his eyes landed on Flynn. He was still extravagantly talking to Punzie, who was also still invested. The thought crossed his mind, and he furrowed his brows.
Could it be him?
Jack looked at Flynn. He had a chiseled jawline with stubble and brown eyes and a unique nose. He kept smiling, even though he was telling a sad story. Flynn glanced at Jack and smiled a little, before looking back at Punzie.
Jack wasn't sure how to feel about it. It could be Flynn, but it could also be half of the other guys at Burgess High. Jack entertained the idea.
He imagined Flynn's voice speaking the words that Red had written him. He thought about his face, smiling and laughing. How his eyes lit up all the time.
No, it couldn't be him. He just got here. Red said he lived here his whole life.
Jack sighed and shook his head slightly. I'm so gay, jesus.
Jack didn't like riding the bus, but he had to today, since Merida had an archery competition. He sat in the first empty seat he could, putting his light blue headphones over his ears and pressing play on his favorite music. Jack loved alternative and indie music. He sought out songs and artists that were less listened to, and maybe that made him kind of a hipster, but he didn't care much. He just liked to support the lesser known artists, rather than flocking to the norm.
Besides, he did listen to a few normie bands- Panic! At the Disco and Coldplay to name a couple. He'd always wanted to see one of them in concert, since he'd been a long-time fan of both. But money was always short, since he only had a summer job, and he went out with his friends a lot.
For a lot of his life, Jack considered himself friendless. He'd try to brighten people's day and crack sarcastic jokes and compliments disguised as insults, but he sat alone at lunch with his sketchbook as his only companion.
He wasn't sure why he had such a hard time making friends. Maybe he'd just been looking for approval, for acknowledgement, instead of people who actually cared. Or maybe the school was so big that he was always on the wrong side of the cliques.
Elsa was his best and only friend, but she went to a private christian school for her elementary and middle school years until she finally convinced her parents to let her go to public school. Even still, Elsa and Jack were inseperable. But lately, Jack had felt like she was drifting away from him. He didn't know how to confront her about it, or if he should. It seemed like she was quieter, less of the fun-loving, would-do-anything-for-anyone kind of person.
His thoughts blended together with the music as he looked out of the cold window, rain dripping down the side. Guitar chords hummed into his ears, and Jack sighed, making condensation on the window.
The bus stopped every few minutes, until the bus was nearly empty save for him and a few other kids. Finally, they stopped at his streetcorner, and he walked off of the bus steps into a puddle, soaking his shoes. He groaned lightly, then put his blue hood up, trudging down the street in sopping wet shoes.
He made it to his house, a small one-story. The yard was well-kept, with green grass and a water accessory in the corner by the porch, and flowerbeds that were colorful and alive. The house was bright yellow, with a black door. It reminded Jack of a beehive.
He took off his shoes at the front door, hoping they'd dry off by morning. He opened the creaky door and walked inside, where everything was perfectly clean as usual. The living room had pillows in each corner of the couch, each lamp was perfectly centered on its stand, the freshly picked flowers sat meticulously placed in a vase that sat on the coffee table. The light marble in the kitchen was shining brightly.
Jack laughed a little when he walked into his room. It certainly wasn't the messiest room he'd been in- Merida's triplet brothers' room was really bad- and it wasn't even disorganized. But it wasn't perfect, either. There were pencils splayed out on his black desk, his bed wasn't perfectly made, his chair wasn't pushed all the way in, the paint didn't match the curtains, the posters were pinned up and unframed. The kind of things that Gothel despised.
Jack didn't love his room. It was relatively small, with a closet on one side, a bed on the other, and a desk sitting beneath his window. He dropped his heavy bag on one side of his desk, and sat in the rolling chair before taking his hood off and pulling his phone out of his pocket.
No new messages.
He felt his heart sink a little bit. He felt a wave of loneliness wash over him as he wondered if anyone wanted to talk to him today. Or ever.
"Jack, what is wrong with your room?!" Jack turned around and looked at his foster mother. She looked around as if his room was covered in blood and dog shit.
"Nothing, Gothel."
"I told you, I am your mother, call me such."
"No, you're my foster mom. I don't have to do anything."
Gothel glared. "Clean your room. I have guests coming tonight."
"And my room's got something to do with that?"
"Do it, or else I'll take away your phone and your laptop." She shut the door loudly, leaving Jack to grumble and clean.