Alright, who unfollowed so that I no longer have 69 follows? C'mon, that was my fun with the story! I got to laugh at that every time I went to check up on it! SOMEONE BRING IT BACK TO 69!
Gyahahaha, I'm such a perv…
Anyhoo, jus' wanted to get a knife to cut apart a stick… Can't find one that's not a kitchen knife… You'll have to wait for your murder til later, Stick. BUT I WILL HAVE MY VENGENCE!
Frost High
Chapter Fourteen (We're seriously already there?)—Try Not To Wake Me (Yes, that's a song. Deal with it.)
Mr. Sanders threw a plate across the room, Jack flinched visibly, poor Sandy jumped off the couch, then back on, and both exchanged nervous looks. So far he hadn't done anything but throw things and shout Jack's name over and over again while muttering curses angrily under his breath. And frankly, the suspense was making them more afraid. Jack couldn't take much more of this.
A loud ripping sound and Jack couldn't hold back a few tears- he had just ripped his drawing of Pitch. That was too much. He wasn't going to sit there and have Sandy's dad destroying everything he cared about. Stomping to his feet, Jack scowled at him with determination. Mr. Sanders stared at him incredulously, but the rage quickly returned to his face. Jack's defiant expression was obviously pissing him off.
"Don't you fucking act like some high and mighty prince, Jack!" he spat, shoving the poor teen back down into the couch, "Now I told you to sit down, now SIT!"
Biting his lip, Jack jumped back to his feet as soon as Mr. Sanders turned to stomp around some more, and he growled, "No." Angry wide brown eyes spun to glare at him. Not one to back down from a challenge, Jack quickly hissed at him, "I'm not a dog. You want someone to sit; you better fucking buy yourself one."
Jack was instantly punched in the gut, causing him to fall back into the couch. Mr. Sanders spat at him, "Don't you DARE talk to me like that!" Grabbing Jack's neck roughly, he snarled, "You sit here acting like you've done nothing wrong when all this is YOUR FAULT!"
Clawing at the man's hand until he released his grip, Jack spat, "What, introducing Sandy to his own UNCLE?" Mr. Sanders glared straight at Jack, but he had to back up when Jack pushed himself back to standing.
Clenching his fists, Jack shouted, just shouted, nails digging into the insides of his hands in rage that had to be held back. Scowling at him, Jack snarled, "So it's WRONG to try and let my friend get to know his FAMILY? That's WRONG TO YOU?"
"You little brat!" Mr. Sanders hissed. "You know very well that isn't why I want that man away from my son!"
"Yeah?" Jack challenged, stepping forward to scowl into his eyes, "Then what's your reason?" Poor Sandy could only watch in terror as the two argued. Even if he could talk his voice wouldn't have worked then.
Mr. Sanders folded his arms across his chest and he asked darkly, "How much do you know about Pitch, boy? Hmm? Has he fooled you into believing he's some perfect, pure child?" Jack didn't answer, his eyes just narrowed, so Sanders continued, prodding Jack's chest. "Let me clear up the picture for you, Jack. Everything he's told you is a lie. I don't want that man around my son because-!"
Cutting across him, Jack leaned in towards him, scowling like some demon straight from hell, he growled, "Because he's gay?"
Mr. Sanders suddenly laughed- coldly, dryly, an empty laugh with no emotion. He turned away from Jack, pacing in a circle, running his hand through his hair. Finally he spoke, turning back to face the boy.
"Gay?" he chortled with mirth, "Is that all he's told you? You want to know how old I was when I first met him? Twelve, Jack. Twelve. When I was fifteen I started dating Arianna. And when I did, you know what he told me? You know what that twenty year old told me?" Jack didn't answer; he just scowled at him, hate consuming his speech.
Stepping toward him, Timothy hissed, "He told me he loved me from the very first day we met. HE'S A PEDOPHILE!"
Blinking a few times, Jack's gaze hardened again, and he aimed it right back at Timothy. "He's only five years older than you are. He was seventeen when he first met you." Stepping forward again, pointing at himself, Jack stated plainly, "That's not pedophilia in my book."
"I WAS FIFTEEN! HE WAS TWENTY! I WAS UNDERAGE!" Timothy bellowed, grabbing Jack's shirt roughly, shaking him with his rage, "Whether or not he aged between when we first met, his taste runs young." Letting go of Jack, Tim smirked coldly and hissed, "I'm honestly surprised he hasn't tried to get in your pants yet, Jack."
Jack snapped. Lunging forward, he tried desperately to strike him. His arms flailed as Timothy caught his elbows. Snarling loudly, Jack barked, "YOU…! YOU ACT LIKE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM!" Tim only scowled at him, so Jack screamed, tears escaping his eyes, "HE LOVED YOU!"
Tim dropped Jack, who quickly crumpled to his knees, but didn't take his hard glare off him. Spitting, Jack hissed, "He loved you… And you broke him… And here you are now," Jack rose back to his feet, throwing his arms out wide and laughing emptily, "Accusing him? Accusing him of trying to take advantage of you?"
Stepping forward to glare right up into his eyes, Jack growled, "Whether you're brave enough to admit that you're just afraid of love with another man or not, Sandy deserves to know him." Clenching his fist, Jack continued.
"Sandy deserves to know WHY he hasn't been able to know his uncle all these years. He deserves to meet his family."
Stepping back, his eyes softening and his rage melting ever so little, Jack whispered, "Whether or not you're ready to be the bigger man, you owe it to your son… You owe it to him to have a family… Not some lie you've been feeding to him his whole life…"
Staring at the glowering man, Jack shook his head and turned to Sandy to say as soft, sorrowful goodbye. He embraced the small boy, whispering gently in his ear, "You can spend the night with me whenever you need to…" And he kissed Sandy's forehead before sending one last glance over his shoulder at Tim.
"How much do you know about Pitch, Tim?" Jack whispered, staring at him in disappointment, "I don't think you know him at all… All you know is your hate… and your fear…" And with that, Jack turned the doorknob, pulled the door open, and walked out.
His drive back was silent and solemn. Some night… He got his first kiss, but then he got attacked by his friend's dad… His best friend's dad…
Biting his lip, Jack wondered if he should go home after this… No, he probably should. If Kris were home he'd be willing to calm him down. And if Jack got back and Kris hadn't gotten home, he'd wait for him to come and comfort him. He needed that more than anything right now. A father who was willing to share all his secrets with him. He needed reassurance.
Coming inside, Jack saw Kris sitting on the couch eating cookies he had bought from the store. He smiled when he saw his son walk in. Grinning with crumbs caught in his beard, Kris asked cheerily, "How vas dance?"
Jack broke down. Tears poured from his eyes as he ran to hold Kris. He cried into his fuzzy beard and told him everything. His arms could barely fit around his meaty from, but Jack loved being able to snuggle into a firm yet soft body. It had become so familiar to him.
After an hour of crying and storytelling later, Jack was munching on one of the cookies- Kris said eating would calm him down. And the first swallow did the trick. His nerves seemed to flow down with the chewed treat. And though he was shaking a little, he did feel better.
Looking up at Kris with his big blue puppy dog eyes, jack whispered, "Should I not have said what I said…?"
"No," Kris quickly responded, rubbing the top of his head gently, "No, what you said vas from heart… It vas truth…" Patting his chest with a big fist, Kris said, "Deepest kind of truth."
"So.. So you're not mad…?" Jack asked, glancing down, then back up nervously, "I.. I mean, I did kind of attack Sandy's dad… My elder… I'm supposed to respect him, right…?"
Smiling gently, Kris said in a soft melodic voice, "Jack, you are too kind… Much too kind… Give people too much credit…" He rubbed his back in circles as he continued talking to him, "There is no respect in cowardess… Mr. Sanders is afraid of vhat is different… I have feeling that is vhy he and wife vere not keen on you being friend vith Sandy when you first met…" Jack looked down in slight shame, but Kris continued, "If he does not vish for Sandy to meet Pitch, unfortunately, you can't do much… He has authority over his son… But I think you have opened eyes for him…"
Blinking, Jack looked at him and whispered, "What do you mean…?"
"Vell," Kris said, stroking his beard, "I think you made him see that perhaps he vas wrong to keep his son in dark… And maybe he vill learn that different is not alvays bad… He has known you for years- you have no turned Sandy, yes?" Jack nodded. "Then there you have it! If you have not changed his son, then he may see there is chance Pitch vill not either."
Jack smiled. Kris had used air quotes when he said chance. His optimistic sarcasm made Jack's dark outlook on the situation a little less so. He hugged Kris one last time, before fidgeting nervously on the couch.
Kris looked at him curiously, asking, "Is something wrong Jack?"
Blushing, Jack whispered, "C-could I tell you something?"
"You alvays can, precious," Kris said, ruffling Jack's white hair.
Smiling, Jack beamed up at his adopted father and said with a giggle far too girly for his deep voice, "I kissed Pitch!"
Kris looked a little surprised, but he asked with a small smile, "At dance?" Jack nodded with a grin. "Did others see?"
"Naw," Jack replied, looking at his hands, "We waited til everyone else left…"
"Hmmm…" Kris hummed, leaning back and looking off at space for a brief moment. Then he turned back to Jack and asked with a big, wide grin,
"Did he use tongue?"
Let's just say Jack temporarily became Rudolph the red-faced teenager.
Yup…. Drama…
Oh, and Kris's accent. He can say the 'w' sound sometimes, but more often it turns into a 'v'… Just so nobody yells at me… That's all for now… See ya! (Love y'all for loving this! BUT BRING BACK THE 69!)