Sorry for the late update... just been feeling a little... ah never mind.... here you go!

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Someday My Prince Will Come

Chapter 11

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I feel like Im running and running, to nothing but stop signs! Sure of myself and running, only to be stopped when I get speed. That's how it feels lately. Im mad at Will. And he's mad at me. The exact reason, I don't know. He's so complicated. He dropped me off at home, and said 'bye,' but he didn't look at me. I don't know why he's mad. It must have been his grandma, because when they said good-bye, I could see something strange about them. She was talking to him the night we came from the amusement park. She must have put him in a bad mood. He looked scared and angry. He tried to tell me I didn't know anything. Telling me that what I was teaching him was unimportant, that it was stupid; that I was stupid.
Who cares? When Will's ready to say sorry, for blaming me for what he is, then I'll be ready to help him again. Its been two weeks since I've talked to him.

I really miss him.

''''''''''

Backstage, actors and actresses rushed back and forth, frantically making changes and modifications. Jack wandered around the makeup and costume room, sorting through the racks for something to add to a dwarf's outfit.

It made him very upset that they had to use high school students on their knees to create the image of a proper dwarf. He had uttered an idea to use some of the children from the school, to volunteer and be dwarves. But of course, adults had to ruin everything and keep it their own way; with awkward, fake, adolescent dwarves.

"This should make you look pudgier. Since you are Happy."

"Happy doesn't mean pudgy. And he's not the only pudgy one. They're all pudgy."

"I know, but who's the pudgiest?"

The actor grumbled and took the costume. Jack rolled his eyes. Actors were so impossible. But he snickered, because he was the same way. He stood back as more of the stage crew hurried past him. All the excitement of dress rehearsal was refreshing. Being behind the curtains and watching the production was the only part of his day that he enjoyed.

He could hear Ms. Coopman's voice saying the rehearsal needed to commence.

The music began. Jack moved to the curtain, stage right, and watched as the lights went on. He looked towards the pianist, and the little orchestra from the music department. Everyone seemed ready. And then Snow White came out. Jack smiled. The girl was perfect for the role. But as usual, one with so much talent has too much ego.

She started singing. And Jack felt compelled to sing along. Snow White fluttered about on the stage, delivering her song. The sweet soprano voice echoed through the theater, speaking of hope and love. Jack wondered if this girl truly believed what she was singing.

"Im wishing (Im wishing)
For the one I love
To find me (to find me)
Today (today)..."

The song ended as the prince made his entrance, and the play fully began. Jack sat backstage, suddenly feeling very lonely. He was wishing for someone too.

'''''''

"Can you believe he said, that I didn't know anything?"

"Oh Jack, he's so ungrateful!" Frank exclaimed. "I don't know why you ever bothered."

"I don't either."

"He's right you know." Came another voice. Jack suppressed a sound of irritation as Noah walked into the living room. The tall blonde settled into his distant recliner and brought a cold drink to his lips.

"Why is he right?" demanded Jack.

"You don't know anything."

"Im really getting sick of you." Jack stood up.

"Come on you guys. Settle down." Frank said.

"I won't!" shouted Jack. "You Noah, are an asshole!"

"Jack! You know I hate that language." Frank groaned.

"Stop mothering him Franky. He gets enough of that at home." Noah smirked, amusement dancing wildly in his eyes.

"Oh fuck off." snapped Jack.

"Im leaving." Frank rose to his feet and grabbed his coat. With a decisive glare at the other two, he slammed the door behind him.

"Im going too." Jack sighed, casting a dark look at the man on the recliner and picking up his book-bag.

"Always going. Always on the run." Noah droned from his spot, and he closed his eyes. Jack tilted his head in confusion, and put his bag down.

"Im not running. You just say stupid stuff. I don't want to listen to it."

"You don't want to listen, cause what I say is true."

"How is it true?"

"You helped this guy, Will." Noah said, almost bitterly. "You helped him, thinking it would all be perfect. You taught him the stupid things, the 'gay' things, and now you're complaining about him not wanting it."

"He will like what he is one day. He'll want it all." Jack replied, almost thoughtfully and sat down. The apartment looked darker, as the afternoon sun became obscured behind rain clouds.

"And what do you want from him Jack?" Noah asked. "Surely the thought of having him for yourself has crossed your mind. That is why you helped him in the first place."

"Oh shut up."

"And do you think he'll stick around once he knows everything? Once he realizes he doesn't need you anymore?"

"He's my friend." Jack could barely contain his fear. Would Will leave him once he knew everything, once he was well prepared and experienced? Jack's hand closed tightly around the lapel of his coat, and a stream of nervousness went through him. 'He is mad at me. He said I didn't know anything.'

"Once he's accustomed and aware, he'll realize how childish you are, and how stupid the things that you've been teaching him are."

"Shut up." Jack breathed and picked up his bag. "You... you're wrong." He walked to the door, and took one last look at Noah. "You're wrong..."

''''''

It was English class yet again. It wasn't his favorite class, but it was better than gym. He sat alone, pretending to be studying the Shakespeare story they were assigned. Truth was, he didn't understand Shakespeare which was strange since he wanted to be an actor.

'I don't care about this crap. I don't care for it at all.' He grimaced at the old words, and strange syntax. It was alien and ugly to him. The only bit he understood was the title: 'A Midsummer's Night Dream.' Such a pretty title, but the story itself; he just didn't understand.

They were supposed to write their own short play, with a character resembling the main characters of the Shakespeare play. That was the assignment. But for now all Jack needed was a title for it. He sighed.

A wave of bitterness crashed down on him as he listened to his classmates giggling amongst themselves. They were all in partners, working together. Of course he was left without one, and had to work by himself. He suddenly missed his old school. There were more kids like him in the Catholic school. And they were so protected.

He and his friends would gripe and whine about having to attend assemblies or school functions. They had no real friendship, only companionship to ease the shame of being left alone. He was conspicuous enough, even in uniform. Everyone was conditioned to think the same, and to believe their destinies were determined by their commitment to the church and to its teachings.

'I do believe in God, and in Jesus...' Jack thought, as he remembered when Will had asked him about it in Syracuse. He remembered his days as an altar boy, the nuns and the priests; all so strict. And Jack began to remember why he didn't like the school, and he grew confused.

Here, in the public school, he was so 'out there', so much like a nail that stuck out and had yet to be hammered down with the others. Decidedly, Jack put his pencil to work. 'I won't be hammered down.'

Jack turned slightly to glance at his 'friend' Liz, who was leaning dutifully over her desk, already with an outline of her play. She was a writer. She helped him at the beginning of the year, when none of the AIDS thing was so pervasive. Jack and she had written out a scene in drama class, and they had a blast.

But it was the 'guilty by association' factor that came into play. 'She has a life here at school. Hanging with me would screw it up.' Jack let out a heavy sigh. His teacher came around. Jack suppressed a groan.

"Do you have your title written down, Jack?" She asked, picking up his paper. He really hadn't written a title, only what he was thinking.

"Hm, hopefully you can write something with this." The woman placed the paper back down and looked at the rest of the students' work. Lowering his eyes, Jack looked at what he'd written.

The Nail That Sticks Out

'''''''''

A voice...

"Jack!"

Jack was running through a blizzard. It was cold, and the ice whirled around him, biting. Somehow, his running was swift, and he was not too troubled by the frenzied snowfall. The sky was purple and gray, dark and suffocating, but he could breathe and he could still run. Something warm was wrapped around him; an impenetrable coat. His hands were not gloved but they didn't need gloves.

"Jack!"

Nothing was around him. He was running and running through the snow, getting no where, seeing nothing... until a light. Jack slowed and came upon a lighted house. The color was so dark, it was hard to tell it was there. But Jack saw the light in the window and walked up to the threshold. With the wind whipping around him, Jack opened the door. Behind it, stood Will with big troubled eyes.

"Jack! I've been calling you!" He crowed, cowering in the warmth of the house. Jack shook his head and smiled.

"I've been calling you too!"

"You have?" Will straightened a bit.

"Come on out Will! Come on, you should see, its crazy out here!" Gesturing to the tempest behind him, Jack winked.

"I don't belong out there. I don't belong out there." Will curled a fist at his hip and let out a sad little sound. It looked like he was pained, in the sweltering temperature of the house. A fire roared behind him, and the walls were hardwood. Jack moved forward, attempting to touch his friend, but a thick glass wall separated them. Jack tapped the wall, eyes confused.

"Of course you belong out here!" Jack laughed. "Will, come on. Break it. We need to go. This place is too hot. You can't be in here anymore."

"Its too cold out there. The snow is too wild, and I don't know how to walk through it."

"You just need the right coat, and you'll get used to the snow. You'll learn how to walk through it, once you get out of here."

"I can't. Its too cold. I'll die out there." Will shook his head furiously and shuddered in the heat. Jack grew frightened and frowned.

"You'll die in here! Now break through this and come outside Will!"

"Will the snow be like that forever? What happens when it stops? What will be there?" Will asked, and pressed his hand up against the glass. Jack could feel himself being pulled from the house, far away from Will, far away from that foreign heat. He was pulled out so qickly, he had forgotten what he was looking for and he blinked hard, only to open them again; to a barren feeling.

Tundra. Nothingness, and tundra.

"...Jack..."

'''''''

"Jack!"

"What is it?" Jack asked, waking from his vivid dream. He looked up into the angry eyes of his math teacher.

"Do you need to see the nurse, Jack?" He asked angrily and crossed his arms.

"No. No I don't" Jack rubbed his eyes and blinked several times. As his teacher continued the lecture, Jack thought hard about the dream. It was so real. It was like Will was in front of him again.

'God I miss him.' Jack said, the nothingness settling in his chest.

'''''''

Jack trotted home from school, looking up at the sky once and a while, for a sign from God . For something that would tell him he was going to be fine. He was praying a lot more than normal. He was praying for Will to return and discard his anger. Constantly, amid the clamor of school or traffic, Jack would utter silent prayers, his lips moving quickly in his solitude.

On a Sunday or after a long and quiet dinner with his mother, Jack would get on his knees in front of his bed and begin:

'Please, Holy Mother, send Will a little more courage. He doesn't deserve your kindness or your grace, since he is not baptized, but he is pure, and he needs courage. Send your love.'

Or when he was feeling extremely forlorn and frantic with loneliness, he would crouch down by the window, with a dramatic sound and let it fall from his mouth.

"Blessed Virgin, let Will see that he needs me. Let him see that we are not evil or wrong. Let him see that I need him too, and that we are best friends no matter what. Give him the love and courage he needs, give him all the strength you have given me. Give him the truth. We aren't evil, or wrong."

And he would pray, trying to convince himself that he wasn't evil, or wrong.

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