Chapter 14 – Factors and Equations

Dedicated to Twannee – for sticking with me in my obsession.

And to curlysweet who is a dedicated reviewer and very kind to my Blakie fanfic.

"How is the apple sauce, Alex?" Frances asked, sipping some wine. The young woman looked from her plate where she had been solely focused, and smiled. She nodded, and swallowed what she was chewing. "Delicious, thank you," she said half heartedly.

Alex would not have come if she hadn't of already told Frances Collins she would. She had done her best to avoid Blake since Thursday, and the other students, and here she sat faced with Blake and Chase. She could already feel them cornering her.

"Blake," Chase smiled, obviously enjoying their discomfort. "You're a bit quiet."

"I'm enjoying the food that Mom has cooked for us, Chase," Blake retorted, pushing a roast potato onto his fork and not looking at his brother. "It doesn't require your running commentary."

Chase grinned.

"So Alex," Frances said, cutting her pork into smaller chunks, "Chase tells me that you and Blake are going to be reunited on the MSA stage."

Both Blake and Alex looked up at the blonde boy, who had no hat to hide behind now, and scowled. "My bad," he grinned, pushing some greens across his plate. Alex sighed and looked back at her dinner.

"Aren't you excited to be back on the stage, Alex?" Frances asked placing down her cutlery.

"Not really, no," she admitted, glancing at Blake briefly before settling her eyes on Frances. There was a clang as Blake set down his knife and fork to and reached for his orange juice.

"You're not?" he said through a clenched jaw.

"Not really."

Chase looked at his brother, whose jaw was so tight a muscle was twitching and jumping, although he had turned his eyes back to the plate. "Well," he managed, "if the idea repulsed so much, why did you agree to it?"

Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't be like that."

Blake began chewing something and raised an eyebrow. Swallowing he replied. "Like what?"

"Like it's a personal thing. We haven't danced together in front of an audience in years. Excuse me if I'm not keen." She poured herself some water. "It's a nerves thing, not a 'Blake Collins thing'." She went to add something but bit her tongue and carried on eating.

"You guys danced in front of us; you showed me and Andie and the others how to do it remember?" Chase chipped in; pushing his tongue around his mouth, with his fork in hand.

"Chase, you have a knife, use it," Frances scolded.

The boy picked up his knife, showed them to his mother and looked back to Alex.

"Yeah, but it was you guys. Maximum twenty people. They'll be over five hundred at the concert and I..." she paused and closed her eyes. "Whatever. I said I'd do it, so don't worry."

Blake looked at her. "No, what?"

"Dancing in front of that many people with you again is a big deal!" Alex said, exasperated.

"Well, if you were more professional, it would be easy for you..."

"Don't you dare lecture me on professionalism!"

"Please!" Frances shouted above them. "I will not have this at my dinner table. Alex," she said turning towards the woman on her left, who was quietly seething now and had to set down her cutlery so they didn't see how badly she was shaking, "you will be fine. You're a natural; I know; I've seen many naturals in my time. There's no such thing as 'out of touch' for you." She turned to her son. "And Blake, I am disgusted at your behaviour. Insulting your dance partner's professionalism is not considered gentlemen-like."

"Mother, she insulted me all the way through our dance career..."

"I have told you not to call me Mother!"

Frances' final retort, sharp and loud, made everyone fall into an awkward silence, where they stayed for a few moments, with only the sound of Frances tapping her nails on the table. Suddenly a smile crept across Chase's face and he begun to laugh quietly. Blake looked at him. "Oh shut up," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Sorry, but that whole thing? Pretty hilarious. Even you Mom," Chase said, still chuckling, pointing a fork at his mother. Frances too had begun to smile, covering her mouth with her hand. Alex looked down and fought the smile forming on her lips.

Even the corner of Blake's mouth was turning upwards.

*****

Chase walked into the kitchen of their parent's house to find Blake already washing up, as he had done for every meal since Blake was ten, with Chase drying beside him as soon as he was old enough. Picking up a towel, he leaned against the side and picked up a plate. " Mom's going up for a bath."

Blake nodded.

"Alex has gone now."

Another nod as his brother placed a glass on the drying rack.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm...tired."

Chase felt a prickle of protection on his spine - his brother was not ok, something was wrong, how could he fix this – all the uncontrollable questions made him feel nine years old again. But this was a situation that he could handle. He knew why Blake was behaving this way.

"It's ok," Chase trod gently, "you can admit it to me."

Blake glanced at him with a little interest. "What are you talking about?" he asked shortly.

"Alex."

"What about her?"

"Blake," Chase smiled, "you still love her, don't you?"

Blake swallowed hard and placed another plate on the rack. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm your brother, I can tell..."

"Shut up, Chase."

"It's a yes no question, Blake."

"It is not as simple as 'yes' or 'no'; there are factors and there's past..." he paused looking at his brother's smirk. "I don't love her," Blake said in a hollow voice.

"Blake," Chase started.

"I don't want to hear it."

Chase watched his brother's face. Still calm, still blank. But the twitching jaw muscle gave him away again.

"Come on, I've been watching you. Little looks, smiles, occasionally touches." Chase examined the glass he was drying and when satisfied, put it down. Blake narrowed his eyes at him. "It's ok; you're not going to burn in hell for admitting it."

"Chase," his brother said, his voice laced with anger. "Drop it."

Chase shrugged. "Whatever. I can't believe you're going to let her go again."

Blake glanced at him. "What are you talking about now?" he asked clearly nervous.

Chase put down what he was drying and looked at him with a small smile. "You don't think she'll stick around after this is all over. She'll have absolutely no reason to, unless you actually pull your finger out and tell her that you love her."

Blake stopped and exhaled deeply. Chase thought he'd got him, touched the right nerve, and maybe Blake would tell him the truth, but his brother pulled his hands out of the hot water and yanked the towel from Chase. "You finish," Blake muttered in a low voice as he dried his hands aggressively and threw the towel back to Chase with force. He left the room. Chase winced as the door to Blake's room slammed. He sighed.

He'd certainly touched the right nerve.