Full Circle
AN: Thank you, everyone, for all the reviews and support! I know that the first two chapters were short, but I promise to keep them as long as possible (for me) from now on! Please read, enjoy, and review!
**
Ch3- Early Morning Jog?
He always woke up at that strange time, a little before dawn, when the sky is brighter and tinged a light pink color by the horizon, but the sun has not yet risen. It was almost always the same time, though he never set an alarm. His internal clock always told him what time to wake up, well before he was liable to catch Liz awake and in one of her 'moods'. This was so as to be as far away from the apartment as possible before she started throwing things because she couldn't remember where she had hidden her stash the night before when she came home in a drunken stupor. It was always something like that, and after the first few times, Jess learned his lesson.
This morning was different from those though, because he wasn't back home in Liz's apartment, but someplace different, unfamiliar. This was not shocking to him, since he was constantly out somewhere for the night, usually passed out, and often woke to strange surroundings. It took him several minutes to remember where he was, and even then, only because he saw his still-packed bag sitting on the floor by the bed. That sight was all it took to get him up and out of bed in a flash. He grabbed 'Howl' from under his pillow, his socks from the bottom of the bed, and his shoes. 'Howl' went in the duffel with the rest of his books, the socks went on his feet, and the shoes remained in his hands so as not to wake the rest of the house.
He knew better than to go out the front door, so he headed for the window in the small living room. Luckily, it had been a cool night and all the windows in the apartment were open for air circulation. Made for a more inconspicuous exit. He stepped through the frame with skill, out onto the fire escape landing, which was bigger than he would have expected. On the fifth floor, facing east, this spot made a wonderful one to sit and watch the sun rise, or hide out from people you didn't want to see, or just read. The last one was what attracted Jess the most, and if he had time, he would have sat down with a book for a while, but he had to leave. So he dropped his shoes, quietly mind you, onto the metal landing and stepped into them. He was not looking forward to the five-story climb down the fire escape, but he didn't have much choice. He just hoped that everyone else had their shades closed.
He was only three rungs down the ladder when a quiet voice nearly made him jump out of his skin. He looked up and there was Rory sitting quietly in the corner between the brick wall and the wrought iron railing, reading a book. From his vantage point, he couldn't read the title, but that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. Jess couldn't believe that he hadn't seen her sitting there, but she was so quiet, so motionless that she seemed to blend in. And plus, who would have expected to fun into another fellow teenager outside, fully functional, at 5:30 am? He supposed that she had been watching his motions the whole time. Finally, after his brain processed this fact, he realized that she had actually spoken to him, but he hadn't been paying attention. "What?" he asked.
She looked at him like he had three heads. Then, realizing that she had probably scared the crap out of the tough city guy, she chuckled before repeating herself. "I asked you where you're going. No wait, I'm going to guess. Dressed like that, you must be headed for an early morning jog in the park." After a smirk and a raise of the eyebrow from the party in question, who was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, she continued. "No? Well, certainly then you must be off to pick up your girlfriend from her apartment on 5th Avenue for a brunch at Tavern on the Green." She glanced down at his high-top Chuck Taylors before laughing once more.
She kept going, knowing from his posture that she was annoying the hell out of him. "So then, neither of those is the case? I know you're not running away, because boys with good books in their suitcases aren't that dumb." He had been staring down at the street, watching the people pass directly below them, but with that last statement he looked back at her, directly in her eyes.
"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
She smirked at him and responded, "You know. The Great Gatsby, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Allen Ginsberg, Hemingway, A Separate Peace. Good books."
He shot an irritated look at her. He was antsy, waiting for her answer so that he could know if it was safe for him to leave, and she was avoiding the question. "That's not what I meant. Why can't I leave? I don't see any reason I should hang around here any longer."
"Jess," she started, in an annoying, motherly tone, "I would have thought you would have figured that out by now. You can't stay away for long. Those damn social workers know more about you than your own mother."
He snorted, interrupting her. "That's not hard."
"Fine," she said, obviously not used to someone contradicting her, "they know you better than you know yourself. They'll come and get you, and you'll be back in foster care in two, three days tops. That's the way it works."
He stood motionless for a moment, seeming to ponder what she had just told him, but when he looked back at her, his eyes were set and cold. "It's worth a try, isn't it? How much worse could it be? IF, and that's only an 'if' at this point, I do get caught, I just get brought back here. There's nothing to lose."
Rory looked nostalgic for a moment, with an almost sad look in her eye, before she came back to reality and responded.
"I'm not sure why I care since you're obviously intent on fucking up your life. But I am going to tell you one more thing and allow you to make your own decision, because you seem like a big boy. Now, if what you say were true, you are right. You would have absolutely nothing to lose except a few hours in the custody of some big freaking guys. It doesn't work that way though. They catch you, one of several things might happen: A) they take a look at your record (now I don't know what that is, and it might not matter) and they decide to throw you in Juvi. B) they decide to go easy on you and schedule you for therapy. Not the end of the world, obviously, but these aren't Ben Affleck or Angelina Jolie's shrinks. These guys are crazy. But that's a story for another time.
"Those are the two things that will happen to you. Even if you only get therapy sessions, you won't be coming back here. They'll send you to some halfway house for teens or a different foster home. And, as my last bit of input, let me tell you that of all the places I've lived in the past fourteen years (and there have been a lot), this is the best place I've found. Now I can't stand it, but hell, its clean and you get regular meals. Ask anyone. Most other places, you're lucky to get running water out of the tap. That's all I have to say. Now I'm, going to go back to my book, and you can make whatever decision you want."
And she did just that. She didn't even do the thing where you pretend to be reading but instead your watching something happening. She just sat there, in her corner under the window, and read her book while Jess stood, leaning as far out over the railing as he could, trying to wrap his head around this whole new, entirely different situation. He knew that he couldn't stay, but he made up his mind. Until he got a better plan, he had to share the room with the boy, and put up with the hyper old people, and listen to the know-it-all girl from a different world. She might just be right, and he wasn't sure that was a risk he was willing to take.
So with that, he sat down in the corner of the landing opposite Rory and pulled out his own book to read. At this point, he could read the cover of her book, and he cringed. 'The Fountainhead."
"That woman is a nut," he said, more to himself than to Rory, but it was more than loud enough for her to hear.
"Hey, I didn't ask you to join me just so that you could insult such an amazing political writer. In fact, I don't remember asking you to join me at all." Rory grinned as she saw Jess' eyes drop back to his own book, a red tint in his cheeks. She decided to throw a few more punches before she finished with him. "And what gives you the right to criticize when you're sitting over there reading Hemingway?"
He looked up incredulously, but she continued unfazed. "His books are soo boring. We had to read one of them for freshman English. I never thought I would refuse to read any book, but I did. Thank God for Cliffs notes at the library or else I never would have passed that class."
He snorted, a small smile, almost indiscernible, played on his lips. And with that, he jumped up, grabbed 'The Fountainhead' right out of her hands, and dove back through the open window into the living room with Rory fast on his heels. It took while, but she managed to catch up with Jess just as he was walking over the threshold into his room. With one swift move, she had knocked him over and kept him pinned beneath her knees on the carpet. He gave up, a little shocked at the position they found themselves in, so she grabbed the book out of his hands and shifted her weight back to get to her feet.
Jess just stared as she got up and dusted herself off. He was sure that he'd never seen anyone like her before. He was mesmerized by the blue of his eyes, the color of the ocean in the Caribbean on a cloudless day. He was awakened from his reverie by a light kick in the ribs, and was met by a dark look on Rory's face.
"Don't bother borrowing any of my books in the future," she said angrily before storming across the hall to her own room, leaving Jess horrified. It had all been in good fun, or so he thought. They were having a teasing conversation on the fire escape, and then he's knocked on the floor and she's pissed. He wasn't sure what to do. Slowly he lifted himself off the floor and walked into the bathroom, turning the shower knobs all the way to hot, and hopping in, hoping to wash away everything that had happened in the past two days.
****
AN: Okay I wasn't entirely sure where I wanted this chapter to go. In fact, I'm not sure this is the direction I wanted it to go in. Fear not, it will all work out in the end! I know Rory's character is strange, but hopefully I can make up for it later. And I'm sorry that Jess is not entirely Jess-like. I'll work on that too. Please review and let me know what you think, I would really appreciate it!
AN: Thank you, everyone, for all the reviews and support! I know that the first two chapters were short, but I promise to keep them as long as possible (for me) from now on! Please read, enjoy, and review!
**
Ch3- Early Morning Jog?
He always woke up at that strange time, a little before dawn, when the sky is brighter and tinged a light pink color by the horizon, but the sun has not yet risen. It was almost always the same time, though he never set an alarm. His internal clock always told him what time to wake up, well before he was liable to catch Liz awake and in one of her 'moods'. This was so as to be as far away from the apartment as possible before she started throwing things because she couldn't remember where she had hidden her stash the night before when she came home in a drunken stupor. It was always something like that, and after the first few times, Jess learned his lesson.
This morning was different from those though, because he wasn't back home in Liz's apartment, but someplace different, unfamiliar. This was not shocking to him, since he was constantly out somewhere for the night, usually passed out, and often woke to strange surroundings. It took him several minutes to remember where he was, and even then, only because he saw his still-packed bag sitting on the floor by the bed. That sight was all it took to get him up and out of bed in a flash. He grabbed 'Howl' from under his pillow, his socks from the bottom of the bed, and his shoes. 'Howl' went in the duffel with the rest of his books, the socks went on his feet, and the shoes remained in his hands so as not to wake the rest of the house.
He knew better than to go out the front door, so he headed for the window in the small living room. Luckily, it had been a cool night and all the windows in the apartment were open for air circulation. Made for a more inconspicuous exit. He stepped through the frame with skill, out onto the fire escape landing, which was bigger than he would have expected. On the fifth floor, facing east, this spot made a wonderful one to sit and watch the sun rise, or hide out from people you didn't want to see, or just read. The last one was what attracted Jess the most, and if he had time, he would have sat down with a book for a while, but he had to leave. So he dropped his shoes, quietly mind you, onto the metal landing and stepped into them. He was not looking forward to the five-story climb down the fire escape, but he didn't have much choice. He just hoped that everyone else had their shades closed.
He was only three rungs down the ladder when a quiet voice nearly made him jump out of his skin. He looked up and there was Rory sitting quietly in the corner between the brick wall and the wrought iron railing, reading a book. From his vantage point, he couldn't read the title, but that was the last thing on his mind at the moment. Jess couldn't believe that he hadn't seen her sitting there, but she was so quiet, so motionless that she seemed to blend in. And plus, who would have expected to fun into another fellow teenager outside, fully functional, at 5:30 am? He supposed that she had been watching his motions the whole time. Finally, after his brain processed this fact, he realized that she had actually spoken to him, but he hadn't been paying attention. "What?" he asked.
She looked at him like he had three heads. Then, realizing that she had probably scared the crap out of the tough city guy, she chuckled before repeating herself. "I asked you where you're going. No wait, I'm going to guess. Dressed like that, you must be headed for an early morning jog in the park." After a smirk and a raise of the eyebrow from the party in question, who was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, she continued. "No? Well, certainly then you must be off to pick up your girlfriend from her apartment on 5th Avenue for a brunch at Tavern on the Green." She glanced down at his high-top Chuck Taylors before laughing once more.
She kept going, knowing from his posture that she was annoying the hell out of him. "So then, neither of those is the case? I know you're not running away, because boys with good books in their suitcases aren't that dumb." He had been staring down at the street, watching the people pass directly below them, but with that last statement he looked back at her, directly in her eyes.
"What do you mean?" he asked, confused.
She smirked at him and responded, "You know. The Great Gatsby, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Allen Ginsberg, Hemingway, A Separate Peace. Good books."
He shot an irritated look at her. He was antsy, waiting for her answer so that he could know if it was safe for him to leave, and she was avoiding the question. "That's not what I meant. Why can't I leave? I don't see any reason I should hang around here any longer."
"Jess," she started, in an annoying, motherly tone, "I would have thought you would have figured that out by now. You can't stay away for long. Those damn social workers know more about you than your own mother."
He snorted, interrupting her. "That's not hard."
"Fine," she said, obviously not used to someone contradicting her, "they know you better than you know yourself. They'll come and get you, and you'll be back in foster care in two, three days tops. That's the way it works."
He stood motionless for a moment, seeming to ponder what she had just told him, but when he looked back at her, his eyes were set and cold. "It's worth a try, isn't it? How much worse could it be? IF, and that's only an 'if' at this point, I do get caught, I just get brought back here. There's nothing to lose."
Rory looked nostalgic for a moment, with an almost sad look in her eye, before she came back to reality and responded.
"I'm not sure why I care since you're obviously intent on fucking up your life. But I am going to tell you one more thing and allow you to make your own decision, because you seem like a big boy. Now, if what you say were true, you are right. You would have absolutely nothing to lose except a few hours in the custody of some big freaking guys. It doesn't work that way though. They catch you, one of several things might happen: A) they take a look at your record (now I don't know what that is, and it might not matter) and they decide to throw you in Juvi. B) they decide to go easy on you and schedule you for therapy. Not the end of the world, obviously, but these aren't Ben Affleck or Angelina Jolie's shrinks. These guys are crazy. But that's a story for another time.
"Those are the two things that will happen to you. Even if you only get therapy sessions, you won't be coming back here. They'll send you to some halfway house for teens or a different foster home. And, as my last bit of input, let me tell you that of all the places I've lived in the past fourteen years (and there have been a lot), this is the best place I've found. Now I can't stand it, but hell, its clean and you get regular meals. Ask anyone. Most other places, you're lucky to get running water out of the tap. That's all I have to say. Now I'm, going to go back to my book, and you can make whatever decision you want."
And she did just that. She didn't even do the thing where you pretend to be reading but instead your watching something happening. She just sat there, in her corner under the window, and read her book while Jess stood, leaning as far out over the railing as he could, trying to wrap his head around this whole new, entirely different situation. He knew that he couldn't stay, but he made up his mind. Until he got a better plan, he had to share the room with the boy, and put up with the hyper old people, and listen to the know-it-all girl from a different world. She might just be right, and he wasn't sure that was a risk he was willing to take.
So with that, he sat down in the corner of the landing opposite Rory and pulled out his own book to read. At this point, he could read the cover of her book, and he cringed. 'The Fountainhead."
"That woman is a nut," he said, more to himself than to Rory, but it was more than loud enough for her to hear.
"Hey, I didn't ask you to join me just so that you could insult such an amazing political writer. In fact, I don't remember asking you to join me at all." Rory grinned as she saw Jess' eyes drop back to his own book, a red tint in his cheeks. She decided to throw a few more punches before she finished with him. "And what gives you the right to criticize when you're sitting over there reading Hemingway?"
He looked up incredulously, but she continued unfazed. "His books are soo boring. We had to read one of them for freshman English. I never thought I would refuse to read any book, but I did. Thank God for Cliffs notes at the library or else I never would have passed that class."
He snorted, a small smile, almost indiscernible, played on his lips. And with that, he jumped up, grabbed 'The Fountainhead' right out of her hands, and dove back through the open window into the living room with Rory fast on his heels. It took while, but she managed to catch up with Jess just as he was walking over the threshold into his room. With one swift move, she had knocked him over and kept him pinned beneath her knees on the carpet. He gave up, a little shocked at the position they found themselves in, so she grabbed the book out of his hands and shifted her weight back to get to her feet.
Jess just stared as she got up and dusted herself off. He was sure that he'd never seen anyone like her before. He was mesmerized by the blue of his eyes, the color of the ocean in the Caribbean on a cloudless day. He was awakened from his reverie by a light kick in the ribs, and was met by a dark look on Rory's face.
"Don't bother borrowing any of my books in the future," she said angrily before storming across the hall to her own room, leaving Jess horrified. It had all been in good fun, or so he thought. They were having a teasing conversation on the fire escape, and then he's knocked on the floor and she's pissed. He wasn't sure what to do. Slowly he lifted himself off the floor and walked into the bathroom, turning the shower knobs all the way to hot, and hopping in, hoping to wash away everything that had happened in the past two days.
****
AN: Okay I wasn't entirely sure where I wanted this chapter to go. In fact, I'm not sure this is the direction I wanted it to go in. Fear not, it will all work out in the end! I know Rory's character is strange, but hopefully I can make up for it later. And I'm sorry that Jess is not entirely Jess-like. I'll work on that too. Please review and let me know what you think, I would really appreciate it!