(13) A Time to Forgive?

'What the fuck are you doing here, Merridew?' Ralph inquired furiously when he saw said teen kneeling on his front porch. His expression soon transformed to one of sympathy, however, when he saw the state that Jack was in. 'What happened?'

'Can I come in?' Jack begged, nervously glancing over his shoulder, as if he were watching out for someone.

'Um . . . Yeah,' Ralph said after a moment's hesitation. Still angry at the other teen, he made no mood to help Jack as the latter crawled into the house.

'I need your help, Ralph,' Jack said softly. 'I know that you must fucking hate me, but you know that I wouldn't come here unless I had no other choice.'

'What happened?' Ralph asked again.

'My father . . .' Jack broke off for a moment, then, 'My father . . . beat me.'

A wave of pity stormed through Ralph and he said, 'Have a seat on the couch or something. I'll go get you some ice.' When he left to go to the kitchen, Ralph hastily tried to gather his thoughts. Jack's father beat him? Personally, Ralph preferred his father's ignorance. At least he never got hurt. Emotionally, getting beaten by one's own parent must be most unbearable.

Shaking these thoughts from his mind, Ralph hurriedly retrieved an ice pack from the freezer before returning to the waiting teen.

'Here,' Ralph said, placing the ice pack in Jack's hand. 'It's not much, but it'll help numb the pain.'

'Thanks,' Jack murmured.

Silence fell upon them, then Ralph reluctantly asked, 'Has he beaten you before?'

'Yeah,' Jack admitted. 'But he kicked me out of the house this time, too.'

'Why didn't you go to Lee's house? Or John's? Or Terry's?'

'My dad threatened to hunt me down.' Jack grimaced. 'You don't know my dad. When he threatens people, you had better take it seriously . . . or else! He always keeps his promises.'

Ralph nodded absentmindedly.

'How long have you been kicked out for? Forever?'

'Not likely,' Jack said with a grimace. 'He'll eventually pass out soon from his drunkenness and forget this ever happened.'

'Then where are you going to go in the meantime?' he inquired.

Jack shrugged.

'I was just planning on going home in a few hours. You know, once Dad is too drunk to even notice I'm there.'

'How would you know if he's drunk enough, though? Are you sure it's . . . er, safe for you to go back home today?'

'I'll be okay,' Jack shrugged again, then flinched when the repeated motion caused him pain. 'And I'll be safe enough for a few days, or at least until he gets into this . . . mood again.'

'I see . . .' Ralph wanted Jack to hurt, hurt as much as Ralph did. But this . . . this was too much. 'Where are you going to stay in the meantime?' It was rather odd how Ralph's anger towards the other teen disappeared for the sake of sympathy.

'I don't know,' Jack responded. 'Outside, I guess.'

'Outside?' Ralph echoed. 'You'll freeze! You don't even have your jacket!'

'I've done it before,' Jack said indifferently. 'I always get a hell of a high fever in the wintertime, but I'll be okay if it's only for a few hours.'

'No,' Ralph said firmly. 'You're going to stay here. As soon as my mum gets home from the grocery store, I'll ask her for permission. It should be. I mean, I don't think she'll want you to spend the night outside.'

'Really?'

'Sure.'

Jack spared Ralph a small smile.

'Thanks, Ralph. It really means a lot to me, especially after the stunt I pulled.'

Ralph smiled in return.

'Go on upstairs and rest in the guestroom for a bit. It's the third door on the left. I'll be up in a minute. I just need to get you some bandages and stuff for your cuts.'

'Okay,' Jack said, wincing slightly as he stood up from the plush armchair he had been sitting in. 'Great. Thanks, Ralph.'

-

By the time Ralph got upstairs, Jack had already shed his shirt and was intently surveying the injuries on his stomach. They didn't seem too bad, not as bad as the last time, anyhow. He had a few baseball-size bruises and some cuts where the skin broke. He maybe even had a few cracked ribs. His wounds hurt like hell, but—overall—they weren't that bad.

'Fuck,' Ralph muttered the moment he stepped into the room.

'Yeah,' Jack halfheartedly agreed.

Ralph shook his head slightly to rid himself of the shock. Then he said, 'Lie down on your back.'

Jack did so without hesitation, trusting Ralph's intentions. After all, the latter did offer him a place to stay, even after learning of the bet. Jack heard Ralph sigh softly in hesitation. Then he felt a wet cloth bathe his upper body. He hissed in pain when the cloth grazed one of his more severe injuries.

'It'll be over in a sec,' Ralph reassured him.

Jack exhaled loudly and allowed the other teen to continue. He could feel Ralph now working a rather thick ointment into his skin, which was likely to help the wounds heal.

'Done,' Ralph said. 'Only your face is left.' He moved to sit on the bed area by Jack's head. Then he slowly gave the latter's face the same treatment as his torso. He seemed to take great care when washing Jack's face, and Jack couldn't help but notice that Ralph was avoiding his gaze.

'Look at me, Ralph,' he requested softly. Requested, not demanded.

Ralph reluctantly did so, dropping the cloth in the process.

'I really am sorry about the bet,' Jack said sincerely. 'I didn't know it would hurt you this much.' He sighed. 'Even after all that shit I did, you still agreed to help me. You're a good friend, Ralph.'

Ralph's eyes narrowed suspiciously.

'I wish I could say the same about you, Merridew.' Then he continued to treat Jack's face. When he finished, he simply got up and said, 'Go to sleep now. I'll wake you later.' And he left.

Jack inwardly cursed himself, knowing that—of the two of them—Ralph was undoubtedly the better person. Jack knew that if their positions had been reversed, the last thing he would want to do was help Ralph.

"I guess that's just what makes him so special," he decided. After pulling the thick covers over him, Jack curled his body up and went to sleep.

-

When Ralph's mother got home, he immediately went to ask her if Jack could stay.

'Of course,' she said kindly, once Ralph had explained the situation. 'The poor dear. Our house will be open to him as long as he needs it.'

'Hopefully he won't need it that long,' the teen muttered bitterly.

'What was that, darling?' his mother asked.

He hastily shook his head.

'Nothing. I was just thinking aloud. I . . . er . . . Yeah, thanks for letting him stay, mum,' he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. 'You're the best . . . By the way, when will dinner be ready? I'm starving!'

'We can eat as soon as your father gets home,' she replied. 'I expect he will bring something.'

'When will he be here?'

'In about . . .' She consulted her wristwatch. ' . . . Ten minutes. He didn't have to work too late this evening.'

'Okay, perfect. I'll just go wake up Jack then.' Ralph jogged up the stairs to the guestroom, where he found Jack sleeping peacefully, the plush blankets wrapped tightly around his body.

The latter suddenly shifted in his sleep, causing the bedsheet to fall down to his waist.

"He sleeps just like a baby," Ralph observed, his gaze casually sweeping over the other teen's exposed body.

Jack's torso was quite lean and, even with the wounds marring his skin, it was rather attractive to behold. His firm muscles rippled slightly with each breath he took; his chiseled chest rose and fell accordingly.

"Though his looks prove that he is far from one," Ralph thought, exhaling somewhat noisily. Quietly moving to the bedside, the teen hesitantly poked at Jack's arm.

'Jack?' he called softly. 'It's time to wake up now, Jack.'

But Jack didn't move.

Sighing again, Ralph sat down at the edge of the bed and brushed a few strands of hair from Jack's face.

'Things haven't changed between us, have they, Jack Merridew?' he inquired of the sleeping form. 'You're still that same bastard you were on the island, but now you have the reputation of a prostitute as well.' He smiled bitterly. 'Just yesterday, before I found out about that stupid bet, I thought you had changed, I really did. You seemed so . . . kind, so helpful. I was beginning to like that. God knows how much I preferred that "fake" you to the person you really are.'

Jack subconsciously turned over, moving the bed slightly.

'I still can't believe you got involved in that stupid bet,' Ralph said for what must have been the thousandth time. 'The person I thought you were would never have done something like that, and it broke my heart to realize that you hadn't changed.' Hot tears formed in his eyes. 'That guy you pretended to be was the one I really liked. Did it ever enter your mind that I might even . . . love him?'

'No, it didn't.'

Ralph froze and stared into Jack's now-open eyes.

'I thought you were asleep,' Ralph remarked.

'I was.'

'How much did you hear?'

'Enough,' Jack said, sitting up and weakly leaning against he headboard.

Ralph hastily wiped the tears from his eyes.

'You weren't supposed to hear that.'

'But I did,' Jack said. 'Did you really mean it, what you said?'

'Yes,' Ralph said sheepishly. 'I wouldn't have said it if I didn't . . . That's what makes you so different from I.'

Jack bit his bottom lip, knowing that Ralph was probably right.

'I'm sorry, Ralph. I didn't know. Oh, fuck, I didn't know.' Jack's brows furrowed in agitation.

'Do you care for me, Jack?' Ralph asked, noticing the other's distress. 'Do you care for me even a little? I want the truth this time, not just some shit you make up to win the bet . . . Do you care for me?'

'I thought I didn't,' Jack replied. 'I even tried to convince myself that I didn't. Being a heartless asshole just made living a whole lot easier, then I could never get hurt. But then visions of your dark eyes and perfect face would crowd my mind and remind me just how wonderful you were. The memories were stronger than the thoughts.'

His words inflicted something deep within Ralph. He surprised both Jack and himself when he suddenly leaned over to kiss the school slut.

-

Jack froze in shock, but then he soon responded by moving his lips along the perimeter of Ralph's in a teasing manner. The bedsheet slipped further, revealing more of his slender form. He shivered in anticipation when Ralph's hands gently wrapped around his bare torso, as if afraid he would run away.

"I would never run from you, Ralph," Jack mentally told the other teen. "Things are just too perfect . . . yet too wrong!" It was obvious to Jack what his companion wanted, but he didn't want to treat Ralph like he did everybody else. Inside, Jack didn't really want to do this. Did that mean he cared for Ralph as more than a friend? Well, unlikely, but he cared for the other teen just enough not to do this to him. Ralph deserved better than the same wretched treatment the others got. He pulled away from the kiss before things went too far.

Ralph stared at him in shock, his lips still coloured and swollen from the intense kiss they shared.

'Jack?' he inquired softly. As if snapping back into his senses, he suddenly shook his head and said, 'I'm such a fucking idiot! When will I learn that baring my heart to you leads to nowhere but pain!' He sighed dejectedly. 'I should have realized that this was all just a dream, and everyone has to wake up from their dreams sometime.'

Jack brought his hand up to press his fingers onto his lips, marveling at the tingly feeling that lingered in them.

Ralph followed his movement and added, 'At least I could live my dream for a moment longer.' Another sigh, then, 'Maybe it will be best for both of us if you don't stay the night.'

'If that's what will make you . . . happy,' Jack responded rather shakily. 'But please, Ralph, know that I didn't do that to spite you. I—'

Suddenly, Mrs. Macpherson suddenly called for them to go downstairs, unintentionally interrupting his words.

'Ralph! Your father is here.'

Jack ignored her and continued.

'—I did it because—'

'Get down here, boys! It's time to eat. You should come down now while the food is still hot!'

'—because I—'

'RALPH! Can you even hear me! Come down, dear. It's a school day tomorrow, and you and your friend will need to sleep!'

'We'll be right there!' Ralph responded irritably; he turned back to Jack. 'Sorry about that . . . You were saying . . .?'

Jack stared at him for a moment. Then he just shook his head.

'Never mind. Come on, Ralph. You're mother is waiting.'

-

On the way home the next morning, Jack's thoughts ever dwelled on a certain someone with chocolate-coloured eyes and impossibly smooth skin, someone with a heart-stopping smile and the kindest of hearts. The Macphersons had treated him with the greatest hospitality possible, constantly giving him unnecessary comforts without him even having to ask for them.

"Oh, Ralph," Jack thought disconsolately, tiredly dragging his feet along. "You deserve someone so much better than me. What can I, Jack Merridew, give you in return for your endless compassion?"

'Hi, Jack,' someone greeted him, scaring the hell out of him.

'Oh . . . Hi, Ray,' he replied, clutching at his chest. Either the teen had sneaked up on him so quietly that he didn't notice, or he was too deep in his thoughts to notice anything! It was probably the latter. Really, a hoard of elephants could have stampeded past him and he'd hardly realize it.

'Sorry about that, ol' chap,' Ray said cheerfully. 'Didn't mean to give you a fright.'

'A "fright"? You almost gave me a friggin' heart attack!'

'Ah, so you do have a heart . . . And does that heart have any room in it for Ralph?'

'WHAT!' Jack exclaimed, bug-eyed.

'Well, you obviously care very much for him,' Ray said confidently.

'Oh, and where did you get that idea from?'

'You.'

'I'm afraid I don't understand.'

'I've notice you've been holding back, Jack,' Ray replied, casually leaning against a nearby fence.

'What the hell are you talking about? I've been beating my ass off trying to win this fucking bet!'

'Yes, "trying", but does that imply "wanting" to win as well. Is this a bet you really want to win, Jack Merridew?'

Jack found himself unable to reply. When he did, it was only to sheepishly say, 'I don't know anymore.'

'Just think about that, Jack,' Ray said with a wink. 'You'll win the bet and keep your reputation intact, but what will those be worth in comparison to losing the one thing you really want?'

'If you're talking about Ralph . . .'

'Bye, Jack. Talk to you later,' Ray said with a broad grin before he disappeared around the corner.

Jack hastily dodged around the corner to confront the other teen, but Ray had already gone.

'Fuck, that kid is fast,' he murmured half-heartedly. Sighing, he began the long trek home.

Not even a half-hour later, Jack was startled once more by someone calling out his name.

'MERRIDEW! HEY, JACK! STOP!'

Clutching weakly at his still-aching ribs, Jack slowly turned around. The breath was soon knocked out of his chest when someone gave him a breath-wrenching hug.

'Oof! Oh, h-hi, Terry.'

'Jack! I'm so glad we found you!' Terry said. 'We've been so worried about you, bud.'

'R-really?' Jack responded, vainly trying to detach himself from his friend. 'Who's "we"?'

'That "we" includes me,' John explained breathlessly. His thin face was flushed with sweat and he was furiously attempting to get rid of the stitch on his side. It was apparent that he had been running to catch up with Terry. Poor guy. He was so unused to the whole "athletic" thing.

'Us, too!' Fred piped up as he and Lee suddenly appeared. 'We came from a different way. That's why it took us so long to catch up to John,' he added, as if trying to explain why the un-athletic one of the group had beaten him in the race to find the teenager.

Jack smiled.

'Well, isn't this just a merry reunion,' he said. 'What's up? Why were you all looking for me?'

'Your dad came by our houses looking for you,' John replied solemnly.

'Ah, well, it's good to see that his threat did not go by unnoticed,' Jack said with false joy. 'You all know what he threatened to do, right?'

'Yeah,' Lee responded. 'It was pretty easy after he said, "That boy better not be here, or else I'll kill him!"'

'I see . . .' Jack said slowly. 'How did you know I would be here?'

'We didn't,' John said, shrugging. 'It was just a lucky guess, but I figured that you would rather go to Ralph's house than, say, your previous infatuations.'

Jack just shook his head and lightheartedly punched John in the shoulder.

'But where are you going to go now, Jack?' Fred asked concernedly.

'Well, Ralph's mum has been real nice about the whole . . . situation.' He calmly lifted his shirt to show his friends the numerous bandages that were strapped to his side. 'Ralph, too. I reckon I can come back here if need be. For now, though, I'd just like to go home. I'm dead tired.' Jack did not care to explain why he was so tired. How could he tell his friends that he had spent a sleepless night at the Macphersons' house just because mere thoughts had consumed him?

The night before, Jack had spent hours on end just thinking about Ralph. The latter was just down the corridor from him, yet he could not find the courage to take those few steps and talk to him. He was wondering where the future would lead them, whether or not Ralph could ever forgive him for the stupid bet. After his talk with Ray that morning, Jack was starting to doubt if he himself even wanted to win.

And if even he did, what then?

Question after question probed his mind that night, each followed by one that was even more impossible to answer. But there was one thing Jack knew for sure: he could not win that bet. If he did, he would just chalk it up with all his other wins, and Ralph would be out of his life forever.

No, he could not possibly win that bet and maintain the most important relationship in his life, the one he shared with Ralph.

'It looks like this is game over,' Jack forlornly murmured to himself. As he trudged along the uneven sidewalk, he turned back once. Only once. 'See you tomorrow, Ralph.'