Jack kicks a rock along the pavement, waiting until he's outside the mall to get on his skateboard. From the shadows, Frank unwraps himself and jumps out at Jack. He takes a hold of Jack's shirt and pulls him into the alley. "Where is it, Brewer?" he demands, keeping Jack's back against the wall.
"Where's what?" Jack plays dumb and tiptoes around the subject.
"My essay, where is it?"
"I haven't done it yet-"
"I told you to have it done tonight!"
"I didn't have time. I've only done karate since school got out."
"Will you have it done by tomorrow?"
"Yes," Jack admits reluctantly. Frank looks around the alley until he sees Jack's skateboard lying near his feet. He picks it up before Jack can swipe it back.
"I want it by lunch tomorrow."
Jack releases a breath, thinking that Frank would take his skateboard and give it back once he handed over the essay, but then Frank smashes it over his knee, cracking it in two pieces. "What the hell, Frank!" Jack screams. His vision goes red and he lunged forward. His moves are sloppy though and Frank shoves him back.
"If you fight one more time, the deal is off. You didn't have it done tonight. This is your only warning. If it's not done tomorrow, then I'm done being nice. Everyone will know."
"I already said I would do it-"
"Too late, Jackie! I'll see you tomorrow." Frank smirks and drops the broken skateboard.
"That was fucking unnecessary!" Jack yells at Frank's back. Jack doesn't move as he stares at the wooden fragments on the dirty ground. That was the last bit of freedom he had. He can't drive, and it's too far to walk anywhere. Skateboarding was his only transportation.
Slowly, Jack picks up the pieces, and cradles them in his arms, letting his back slide down the brick wall. He can feel the extra hours of karate and side effects settle in his bones like dust in an old library. It gets harder to move and Jack realizes maybe it's not fatigue but a seizure. Panic rises in his chest. He won't be leaving this alley if he has a seizure; he needs to get out of here fast, but his head is spinning and he can't find his balance. He collapses back on the ground before he ever really got up. He closes his eyes and wraps his arms around his knees.
"Jack?"
He jumps and his head snaps up. Jack's heart is pounding, not having heard anyone approach. "It's just us," Kim reassures. "Are you alright?" Jack relaxes. At least they're not going to physically hurt him.
"I'm fine."
She sighs. "I know you're not, you don't have to-"
"I'm fine! Okay!? Can you just leave it?"
"Do you need a ride home?"
"No," he says, and then cringes. He does; he has no idea how he'll be getting home tonight, but his pride is in the way.
"Yes, you do."
Jack grits his teeth. How does she read him so easily? And why does she always have to call him out?
"No," he repeats. Jerry rolls his eyes.
"Don't make this harder, man. Just get up so I can drop you all off." Kim follows Jerry's words, standing up and brushing off her jeans, but looks at Jack again who doesn't move.
"Why are you pretending to care?" Jack asks suddenly. "Are you trying to make it worse?"
"We're not pretending," Milton argues.
In a toneless voice Jack continues, "Yeah? Then why don't you want to be friends?"
"Jack, it's not that we don't want to be your friend… It's that we can't-"
"Just go," he says sharply. "Forget it, I don't want to hear it. Please, just go away." He feels so defeated by them, Frank, the lies, Kai, his illness, his medication… He's tired of fighting.
"Jack," Kim tries, brushing her hand against his knee again, but he flinches away. They exchange looks and Jack rolls his eyes.
"Go." They're startled by his tone and reluctantly leave.
Twenty minutes later, Jack wordlessly climbs into Ayla's car. She gives him a weird look, but doesn't ask anything as she resumes tapping her fingers along to Mozart.
...
Today is Wednesday, and he knows that in hours he'll have his room back. Kai and his parents are supposedly leaving after dinner today. After his last class, Jack slips Frank's essay into his locker. He only spent half an hour on it, and Jack would never turn it in, but Frank didn't say it had to be well written.
Ava is playing with her blocks again when Jack gets home, and he sits with her. His mom and aunt had left to run errands, while Jack's uncle is with Stephen in the kitchen. Kai's not home either, but Jack doesn't care where he is. He's just happy that the house isn't as crowded.
To Jack's amusement, Ava is happily chatting with herself and his attention wanders to the conversation between Stephen and his uncle. "You know," his uncle was saying, "it's rather admirable that you and Libby are together. It can't be easy when one of them isn't all there." Jack fights the urge to chuck a block at his uncle's head.
"Jack's pretty independent," Stephen says with a glance towards his stepson's back, knowing he's listening in. "He's just like any other teenager."
His uncle waves Stephen's comment away. "You're just saying that. But really, I'm not sure I could deal with a kid like-"
Jack walks out. He doesn't go to a separate room, but instead leaves the house completely, jogging down the stairs and knocking on Ayla's door. She doesn't answer and Jack knocks again. He knows she's home; he can hear her playing piano.
The playing stops."Yes?" She asks, peering around the door. "Oh, hey." She opens the door wider, motioning for Jack to go inside. "What's up?"
"My uncle doesn't seem to understand that my cognitive skills are intact, and I can't stand him anymore."
"Make yourself at home," she chuckles. "I'll warn you, though, I have to practice piano, so you won't be the most entertained guest."
"I literally do not care," Jack says, flopping onto the couch. Ayla shakes her head, and sits at the piano. She continues drilling the cadenza into her muscles, and Jack watches in fascination as her hands fly over the keys effortlessly. She continues the rest of piece, enjoying the way the chords are voices. This part is easy, and she glances at Jack to see what he's doing. She laughs a little seeing him stare on the piano, his jaw open slightly. He doesn't blink at crazy martial arts stunts, but all it takes is a simple melody to hold him captive.
At the nearest conclusive cadence, she stops and turns to him. "Do you want to learn?"
Jack raises a brow. "I don't think I could learn how to do that."
"You wouldn't start on a concerto, idiot," she laughs. "I could show you the basics, though."
"Don't you need to practice?"
"Nah, I've already done quite a bit. Come here." She slides over on the bench so she's in front of the lower octaves. Jack sighs and takes a seat on her right. Ayla taps her right thumb. "This is your first finger, second, third, fourth, and fifth," she lists, tapping the respective finger. "And this is Middle C." She plays a note in the center of the piano. "All of these are also C's, and basically the notes after go up the alphabet until G. This is C, D, E, F, G, A, B, and C again. Does that make sense so far?"
"Yeah, but what about these?" Jack asks as he touches the black keys.
"We're not there yet," Ayla says, not sure how to explain sharps and flats. "But now that you know the white keys, you can play a scale!"
Jack looks at her uncertain. "Aren't those hard? I feel like Milton complains about them a lot."
"They're almost all the same on piano which makes them easy, but French horn is different. The basic pattern is 1-2-3-1-2-3-4-5," she explains.
"Uh, what?"
Ayla smiles to herself. "Put your first finger on C." Confidently, Jack plays a note with a white key on its left and a black key on its right. Ayla starts to laugh. "That's an F, Jack."
"F, E, D, C," he mutters to himself, counting back the notes. He plays a C with his thumb and looks at her.
"Yeah, okay, so now you go 1-2-3." She shows him an octave lower, playing C-D-E, and Jack copies. "Now the tricky part is moving your thumb under your hand so it's on F." Again, she demos, and Jack copies.
"See? I played that. I was getting ahead earlier."
"Oh, sure," Ayla agrees with a laugh. "And now that you're here, you just go 1-2-3-4-5."
"1-2-3-4-5," Jack repeats, playing up the rest of the scale. "How do you get back down?"
"Just play it backwards: 5-4-3-2-1-3-2-1." Jack does as she instructs, his bracelet hitting against the plastic keys as he moves, and then he looks at his left hand.
"So it's just the same for left, too?" Ayla nods, wanting to see how he manages it. Jack's so gullible; it's too easy to fool him. He carefully places his thumb on C again and crosses over with his second finger, then his third, replaces his thumb and struggles to continue moving the other fingers over. Ayla tries not to laugh and disguises it in a cough. "That can't be right," he insists.
"Whoever told you music was easy lied. Now do hands together." After a great struggle, he makes it up the scale, and Ayla can't handle it any longer.
She bursts out laughing at Jack's awkward technique and says, "Okay, okay, that's so wrong. Just stop."
"You told me it was right! I was just doing what you said," Jack protests.
"I know. It was just so easy to lie. You had no idea, and it was hilarious."
"Ha-ha," Jack says grudgingly with a smile.
"It's supposed to be 5-4-3-2-1-3-2-1, the opposite of the other hand, 'cause your fingers are opposite." Catching on quickly, Jack puts the two scales together, and starts to speed it up. "Hey," Ayla adds as she starts to think. "That's a pretty good metaphor."
"What?"
"The first way you did the scales -all weird and stumbling- is like you and your friends. You know? You don't trust each other, and you're like, alright, but once I told you the truth, once you tell them the truth, it'll sound better and be easier."
"Don't… Don't make this about them," Jack says quietly, the light fading from his eyes.
"I'm just saying." She bumps his shoulder, trying to get another smile. Instead, he looks at the time and frowns.
"I should be going to practice."
"You're not mad at me, are you?" Ayla watches him, worried she overstepped.
"No, but I'll be late if I don't go now."
Sorry, I know this chapter was really short. It was all I could do this week. I'm trying to work two jobs, school, sports, and my instruments- it's ridiculous, and I'm literally a mess. Did you know there are only 24 hours everyday?
I hope you guys enjoyed the last part where Jack's learning piano. This was my favorite chapter to write; it's a nice little break from the craziness of the other chapters.
Please review!
