Everything You've Done Wrong

Innocence is an accident
Even if it goes by two or three
And in a sense it's a consequence
Of everything you took away from me
But I'm alright
I said when I got out
Nothing ever came for free
I'm up all night
Pretending to make out
Remember the time when you called me out from my school
(my school, that day at my school)
And we got caught by the cops but we'd never go to prison
'Cause we made the rules
Well alright
Whenever you get out
You'll be looking after me
And we'll be making it right
All right
-Sloan, Delivering Maybes

Chapter Twenty: Losing Home

Spot stared directly ahead, and Marco watched the traffic and they didn't say a word. Spot didn't want to think about where he might end up at the end of the van ride; he didn't want to think about the gun he knew Marco carried or the one that Mr. Higgins had aimed at him.

So instead he thought of Race, and it was easy to concentrate on him, though almost as nerve wracking, because he truly had no idea what was going to happen to his boyfriend. He was relatively sure it would involve them never seeing each other again--no, he was absolutely sure of that--but he had no way of knowing if Racetrack was even safe now.

So finally he took a deep breath and asked, "Is Tony going to be okay?"

"Not one fucking word," Marco snarled in response. "Swear to god, you EVER mention my cousin's name again and I'll fucking KILL you, you fucking--"

"Faggot?" Spot filled in. "Fuck you, you knew I was gay."

"Yeah? I didn't know you were--" Marco stopped, and shuddered. "You just keep your fucking hands to yourself."

"Jesus CHRIST, I'm not going to--"

"Don't talk," Marco spat. "I swear to god, I'll kill you if you say another goddamn word."

Spot assumed that was an exaggeration.

But he wasn't going to risk it.

So they went back to silence, with him worrying about Racetrack, and feeling sick and knowing there wasn't a single thing he could do about it.

Jack couldn't believe his luck. The last popsicle in the house, and it was HIS. Beside that, no one else was in the kitchen, so no one else could see him take it. That was the thing with this family. They all loved popsicles, even Spot.

He was also kind of happy because David was over, and Denise loved David. She thought he was a prodigy. So they were in the living room, watching movies. They had planned to stay at David's, but Jack had had a fight with Sarah mid make out, so he and David had decided to take refuge at his place with Race and Spot.

Denise said that Spot and Race had gone out, but they hadn't been back for awhile. With a shudder, Jack realized they might be...

He shook his head and walked back into the living room.

Denise stared. "Is that the LAST POPSICLE?"

Jack smiled. "It sure is."

"You ASS."

"I am." He stuck the popsicle in his mouth. "But with a popsicle."

David just laughed and looked at their movie selection. "Wow...someone in this house really likes James Bond."

"Spot," Denise and Jack supplied. David nodded.

"When are they getting back?' he asked, checking his watch. Denise sighed.

"I don't know, they left awhile ago. Probably got distracted. Tony is a cutie."

"Ugh," Jack glared. David punched his shoulder.

At that moment, the doorbell rang, and Jack lazily stood up and walked out of the room. It was probably them, so he'd have to endure a night of Tony.

He opened the door, and Spot was standing there with a huge Italian man.

Jack stared.

Spot was shoved forward and Jack caught him, and then his stare turned angry at the huge man. "Who're--"

"Keep him the fuck away from my cousin."

Then he turned on his heel and walked down the stairs, kicking aside one of their porch lights on the way.

It broke.

Jack closed the door and looked down at Spot.

It was serious.

"Spot?" he asked.

Spot bit his lip, and after a painfully long silence said, "We fucked up, Jacky. I fucked up and his dad's gonna put him in the hospital."

Jack furrowed his brow a little. "What do you mean--what happened?" He nodded towards the door to the living room. "C'mon, if it's important we should talk to Denise."

Spot started to object, then stopped. Because it wasn't like he knew what the hell to do; for all he knew, Denise might. Maybe discovering that your foster son's boyfriend was probably bleeding to death at his father's hands was the sort of thing they taught you how to deal with when you signed up to take in a foster kid.

Somehow, he doubted that. But Denise was better than nothing, and he was still too numb to argue as Jack led him into the living room.

David and Denise could see immediately that something was wrong; Spot just looked drained. "Sean?" Denise asked after another long quiet.

"His dad caught us." Spot sank into one of the chairs. "It's just so fucked up."

Jaws dropped. If the situation were different, he would have laughed. David's facial expressions were priceless.

"What?" David said.

"His dad saw," Spot cleared his throat. "He threw me out, smacked Tony around..."

"Is he okay?"

"He was when I left, but now..." Spot looked down at the ground. "I don't know."

Jack slipped his arm around him, and despite other people being in the room, Spot leaned into him. Because Jack was warm.

"You left him?" Denise didn't sound accusatory; she just sounded surprised.

"I was kicked out."

"Sean..." She trailed off. "When you say his dad smacked him around, how badly are you talking about?"

He shrugged. "He was okay. When I left. But--I don't know if--his dad went psycho, I don't know what else he'd do..."

"Do you think he's in serious danger?"

Spot bit his lip. The answer was yes, but at the same time he knew he was still going to be watched, that if the police showed up at Race's house to make sure that he was okay and found the mafia ran out of the upstairs office, he could be pretty certain that he was going to end up very dead. Which he didn't want.

But if it was him or Tony...

The decision of whether or not to answer was taken out of his hands. "Yes," David said quietly. "I've seen--at school sometimes, Tony comes in pretty beat up and... He doesn't talk about it. But it's his dad, I know it is for a fact..." He shot a look at Spot. "I can't imagine this ending without him..."

"In the fucking hospital," Spot mumbled again. Because Spot knew what it was like to have a violent father lose his mind; he had the scars to prove it.

He shuddered a little.

Jack wasn't saying anything. That was his way. Denise was debating inside her head. She was like that, she wasn't sure if she should give her true advice, or go by what she knew someone wanted to hear.

Right now, Spot was sure Denise wanted Spot and Race to end their relationship, for both their safety, but she wouldn't say, because she probably knew they were in love with each other.

"Spot..." Denise swallowed. "Should I go over there and get him?"

Spot was about to answer, but on cue, their was another knock at the door. They all jumped, and at the same time ran for the front door, each knocking over the other. Spot reached it first, and flung it open with an urgency he never knew he had.

And, like he knew he would when he heard the knock, he saw Racetrack standing there, suitcase in hand, and a little bit wet.

It was raining now.

Race looked like he was about three seconds from collapsing and Spot grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside, and David picked up the suitcase. And within two steps, Race was shaking so hard he could barely walk and the only reason he was able to really stand was because Spot was holding on to him, not letting him go even for a second.

There was a large bruise on Race's face where he'd been hit, and his head was pounding, and the fact that he'd made it there alive was impressive. Because Race hadn't been paying attention to his driving, and the two red lights he ran combined with the rain should have led to an accident. But if he had even a tiny bit of luck that day, it was that he'd survived the car ride.

Denise was the first one to spot the bruise. "Tony?" she asked. "Tony, are you hurt?"

"N-no."

She helped Spot guide him to the living room, set him down on the couch.

"Your face, Tony."

"It's fine." He shuddered from the wet and cold and the fact that his mind was totally numb and that he had a craving and that his family hated him. He shuddered, and then felt a wave of nausea and put a hand to his mouth as though that would help. "Gonna be sick," he croaked.

David sprang for a trash bin and handed it to him; it got there just in time, and he retched violently as soon as he saw he could.

"Tony..." It was Denise again. She hesitated. "Jack, go get him an ice pack."

"N-no, I don't need--"

But Jack had already gone to do it, so he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then just stared down at the floor. He could feel Spot's arm around him still, and was grateful, even though Spot hadn't said a word.

The next person to speak was David. "Tony? What... happened?"

And right before he started puking again, Race managed to say, "I think... I think I was disowned..."

Jack had just re-entered the room, and almost dropped the ice. "You serious?"

"Yeah, I think."

Jack kept talking before anyone else could. "Why?"

"Because Dad tried to... I dunno, he just didn't like the whole gay thing, if that really surprises you."

"Why didn't you just... I dunno," Jack shrugged. "Worm your way out of it? Like you do with everything else?"

There was an intense silence, and Race glared at Jack, because he knew what Jack was asking. "I'm not about to pretend Sean didn't happen because of my dad."

Jack shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, he kicked you out, it's not like--"

"He gave me the choice and I left, you fuck--"

"STOP," Denise snapped. "Jack, keep your mouth shut unless you know how to word what you say or... unless you learn the right thing to say, alright? Tony, do you want to tell us what happened?"

Race tried to find the words, and with that action came a flood of images in his mind of Izzy and mother and his dad and Sophia and Maria... and he choked.

He was trying harder than ever not to cry.

"Fuck..." he finally said, and Jack handed him the ice and he pressed it to his face. It took him long enough to collect his thoughts that Denise almost asked if he was all right again, and Spot was more worried than he'd let on--because he'd seen Race's head slam into the wall and didn't want to think about things like concussions.

But then Race started talking.

"It's so fucked up. I hate him, I goddamn hate him and--Christ, I can't believe I--I either had to stay there and forget Spot and switch schools and be a perfect fucking straight boy or leave the family all together so I--I left." He took a deep breath. "I left and I know my dad and he'll just act like I never existed to begin with and--my sisters--oh God..."

He buried his face in the icepack again and wondered if what was freezing to his cheek were tears or leftover raindrops, dripping out of his hair.

"Is Maria okay?" David asked timidly.

"No!" Race burst out. "She somehow thinks I can still stay, but that I'm not trying hard enough. At least Sophia doesn't think I'm letting her down."

"Maria's a tough kid, Tony," Spot said. "She'll be fine."

"She's only twelve."

"Yeah, well, she's been through a lot already,"

"She's only twelve!" Race snapped. "Okay? Now she has...a house full of...god, I hate this so much...why did I have to get HIM? Why did I get him as a father, of all people?"

Denise sighed, rubbed her hands together. "Tony?"

"Yeah...?"

"I suppose you need a place to stay."

"No," Race said. He wasn't going to take sympathy; he'd find a way to cope He took a deep breath and reminded himself that he had no family, but at least he had his pride. "I'm fine. Don't worry."

"Tony..." David sighed a little. "Sleeping in your car is not fine. Don't be stupid."

And Race stared at him for a second because... Well, because David knew exactly what he'd been thinking. So he just shrugged. "It's comfortable."

"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to put my foot down, Tony," Denise said. "You're staying here until things are... Worked out."

He shook his head. "No, it's really okay, I don't want to--"

"Shut up, Tony." And everyone kind of stared at Jack for a second after he spoke. The people who knew him the best--which was really everyone but Race--knew from his tone of voice that he'd reached some kind of... decision. After a second he continued with, "Seriously; it's all fucked up and even I can see that, so for awhile at least you're gonna stay here."

Race swallowed. "Jack...?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, well, whatever. My brother likes you. So I guess you don't totally suck."

Race leant back against the chair, ice pressed to his face. "Thanks," he mumbled. "But I don't want to impose or--"

"Tony, look around. I collect stray children," Denise said gently. "Seriously; some old maids have cats, I have adopted kids."

Race swallowed hard, then smiled a little. "Spot fucked up earlier. He called you his mom."

There was a pause, and then everyone turned to look at Spot. Race was just glad they weren't looking at him anymore, even though Spot looked a tiny bit annoyed. But given the current circumstances, no one was going to get too mad at Race for taking attention away from himself.

"You called me mom?" Denise said after a moment, her voice sounding... different.

Spot shrugged.

"Really?"

"Tony is stupid."

"Sean?"

"What? We can't talk about this NOW, he--"

"Actually, I just want to... not talk about what happened, so you two can go nuts." Race stood up, and David stood with him. "Davey--"

David grinned and put his arm around him. "I'm taking him to bed. Come on, Jack."

Jack pouted, and shoved his hands in his pockets, following behind them and looking back at Spot and Denise. Kind of jealous.

"So Jack," David said, sensing his best friend's slight jealousy without even needing to look and wanting to get him involved in the conversation, "where does he sleep?"

"What?" Jack asked, catching up with them.

"Well; either we make up the couch in the living room for him, or--"

"He's not sleeping in Spot's room."

"Then you have to go kick out your mom and Spot while they bond."

Jack hesitated. "That's mean, Dave. You want them to sleep together."

"Yes." David nodded. "Because Tony here is about three minutes from a nervous breakdown, and I want Spot between him and the nearest coke dealer. And he's prone to doing stupid things like running away from the people who want to help him."

"Gee, Dave. Glad you think so highly of me."

"I love you, Tony. I also know you very well."

Jack sighed. "Yeah, well, I don't. So I'll take your word for it." He groaned. "Spot's gonna be way too fucking excited about this."

They opened the door to Spot's room and deposited the suitcase in the corner, and Race sat on Spot's bed. David sat next to him, and hesitantly, Jack sat on a chair.

"Tony, try and think of it like this," David said after a minute. "You... You lost a lot tonight. But you're not hiding anymore, and you're going to be sharing a bed with your boyfriend, for a few days at least. And that's gotta be worth something."

Race pulled his knees up to his chest. "Yeah..." he said quietly. "Yeah, right now that's all I've got."

"And me, and Mush, and the band," David put his hand on Race's shoulder. "Even Jack, and Denise. So don't feel like you're alone, okay? I know this sounds impossible, but we've all been through something hard, and we know."

"Spot has..." Jack cleared his throat, obviously not partial to heart to hearts with Race. "Spot has... been through worse, so, he'll understand either way. And Dutchy thinks you're god, so--" David punched him again, for the fourth or so time that night. "What? It's true!"

"Stop being a troublemaker," David snapped, and turned back to Race. "Listen, Tony, just don't lose it again, okay? I'd miss you a lot."

"Jesus, Davey. I'm not gonna..." He trailed off. "I'm trying not to lose it."

"You'll be fine," David said. "It'll take awhile, but I know you. You recover from things."

"Sure, but I relapse two years later." He began to play with his hair, trying to drain the last of the water out of it.

"You... Want a towel?" Jack asked, feeling very odd because he didn't know Race and he really had no idea how to help. "Or... Like, cocoa or something? You look cold."

"Aww, see, even Jack likes you now."

"Yeah; being pathetic works wonders," Race mumbled.

David shoved him a little, though gently. "Don't talk like that."

"It's true."

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "But really... I can't believe you'd give up the fucking sweet life for Spot."

"It wasn't so fucking sweet," Race mumbled. "And... Jesus, he's your brother. What would you do?"

Jack gave him a serious look, then sort of smiled. "You're right, god. I'd do the exact same thing. Lemme go get you that towel." And Jack exited the room with an odd sort of spring in his step.

Race turned to David. "See? It's not me. It's Spot. Everyone loves him." He swallowed "Except my dad... or whatever he is to me now..."

David sighed. "Spot is...well, we all kind of hated him at the beginning, you know. He grew on us because we saw that he needed people. And I dunno... after a while we started to need him to."

Race stared, his mind off of the current situation. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if anything were to happen to Spot, all of us would be more depressed than you'd think we'd be. "

"I know why I would."

David nodded. "Because you love him. Well, he's...listen, he just was such an asshole to us when he first came here. And no one really wanted to deal with him, and he hated us so he didn't either. But things changed and he is what he is now."

Race shrugged. "What's that?"

"Huh?"

"What is Spot to everyone now? I mean, why would you be so depressed if he was gone?"

"You know."

"I think I do, but I want to hear. I love him, like, so much it's amazing, but still, I want to hear."

David took a deep breath, wondering why this was so hard. "He's... Our friend. He and Blink have this bizarre relationship where I think they're way closer than anyone else realizes--watch them together sometime--and he and Dutchy get drunk together and he really is like Jack's brother, and... You know, Itey and I love him too, because he's... He's just genuine."

Genuine. That was a good word for Spot.

Race nodded. "That's... Kind of why I love him."

"I know. And... It might be kind of assholeish of me to say tonight, but really, I'd way rather see you with him than see you with your father, because your father is so..."

"Fucked up?"

"So not right for you. It's like there's this giant thing in your house that no one will talk about but you're all really aware of and reacting to all the time. If that makes any sense."

"Not really," Race said, though he was kind of creeped out by how eerily perceptive David was. Because when Race thought about it, just about every screw up he'd pulled was because of his dad and the mob. So much of their family life focused on dealing with that, that it was a wonder they'd even noticed he was on drugs.

Not that he could tell David any of that. But it was still impressive how good at picking up on things David really was.

"Davey?"

"What?"

"Do you..." Race looked down at his hands, not really wanting to say what it was he was about to say, but he knew he had to because he...he owed it to David and him. "Do you promise to always be here?"

"...Tony?"

"Because really, I think the only person who ever raised me was you."

David didn't seem to really know what to say for a moment, but then he smiled. "Am I your mom? Is that it?"

Race smiled up at him. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

David gave him a noogie, and Race laughed as he pushed him back. "Yes, Tony, I'll always be here."

"Promise?"

Another smile. The kind of one that meant that David knew something everyone else didn't. "Even when you don't want me to be, I'll be right next to you, doing what I always do."

"Which will annoy me because you're always right."

"Exactly." David nodded. "So you know I'm right when I tell you that one way or another, this will work out and it'll be for the best. Because being in the closet? That was not the best thing for you."

"I know." He shuddered a little. "I hated every second of it, I just wanted to--to have my family understand and... Well, that was asking a bit much."

"It shouldn't have been," David said. "It's not your fault they don't see what's in front of them. You and Spot--you're good together. What your family should have wanted was for you to be happy."

"But they didn't--Jesus--even my mother wanted me to leave."

"Your mother is a homophobic--" He cut off before he actually said what he was thinking. "If she doesn't want you in her life because you're gay, she doesn't deserve you. Neither of them do--and you didn't deserve everything you've been through."

"I put them through a lot, too."

"Tony," David said seriously, "I'm always right. So trust me, okay?"

Race sighed. "Okay," he mumbled.

The door to the room opened, and Spot strode in, looking... kind of smug, but also kind of touched and generally, well, like Spot.

"Hey; where's your boyfriend, Dave? Hands off mine." Spot started to sit down next to Race, then changed his mind and instead sat down on Race, pushed him over so they were lying on the bed together, Spot on top of him.

"Uh..." David said, then sighed. "I take it your talk with Denise went well."

"Shut up." But Spot said it good naturedly.

"So what did you two discuss?"

Spot gave him a look, then shrugged a little, because he was actually pretty pleased. "I'm still gonna call her Denise. But... She's gonna talk to my social worker about actually adopting me."

David grinned. "Kick ass."

"Yeah, no more worries about being taken away."

Race smiled. "Me, neither," he said quietly. "That means we're both... kinda... free."

David gave the two of them an amused look, then stood up. "See, Tony? I told you there was an upside."

Race nodded a little, as Spot put a hand on his cheek. His skin was clammy and still damp. "Being out of the closet rules," he declared.

"Tony, you're freezing," Spot mumbled.

"I'll bet you could warm him up..."

They both gave David odd looks, and he shrugged. "Well, it was just a suggestion."

"I like that suggestion."

"Me, too."

"Tony looks all scraggly," David added. "He should go take a hot, steamy shower."

"I like that suggestion, too."

"Yeah," Race agreed. "But I find it kind of creepy that it's coming from David."

"I dunno. It's nice when our friends encourage our sex life..." Spot coughed a little. "It's nice to have a sex life, finally."

"Sure is."

"Right. I'm leaving now." David paused. "Be safe, kids. Use a condom and for god's sake, clean up the bathroom when you're done."

"Go away now."

"Going," David said cheerfully. He didn't mention that the more the two of them wore each other out, the less likely they'd be to think about what had happened that day--and the less likely it was that either of them would have a nervous breakdown. He didn't care so much about their sex life as about their mental health.

David was a very good friend like that.

David walked back into the living room, and saw that Denise was dozing lightly on the couch, and he smiled. He liked Denise, she was the only woman out there who could ever really be a mother to Spot; he listened to her, and he cared about her.

Even back when Spot had never listened to anyone.

He continued to the kitchen, and saw Jack was sitting in a five year old manner, pouting at the table, and holding a hand towel in his hand that obviously had been meant for Race. He sighed, and sat down next to him.

He pinched his cheek. "Is Jacky Wacky jealous?"

Jack grinned and shoved him. "Shut up."

"Are you mad at me?"

"No. Why would I be?"

"For...I dunno, being Tony's friend?"

"Why would that make me mad?"

David looked at the table top. "No reason."

"Well..." Jack put his hand on his arm. "I'm not, okay? I'd never be mad at you. And if I was, it'd be for a GOOD reason. You look tired."

"I am."

"Sleep."

"Here? I have to go home."

Jack shrugged and put his arm lazily, and companionably around David's shoulder. "Take a nap, I'll wake you up before it's midnight and then walk you home."

"...thanks."

Then David leaned against him slightly, something Jack hadn't quite expected, and proceeded to nap.

Jack smiled at him and leaned back in his chair.

It was very comfortable.

Upstairs, Spot was holding the ice on Race's head, while Race took a few breathing moments to compose his thoughts, and breathe in the scent of Spot's room; he still wasn't quite functional yet.

Finally, he managed to say, "I'm sorry about--about everything. My family has..." He trailed off, then mumbled, "Shit, they aren't even my family anymore but... Jesus, I can't believe my dad actually--"

"Tony," Spot said. "Seriously, chill. It's okay. We're both alive."

"But--"

"We're alive. And we're together. And I sure as hell don't want that much more outta life," Spot mumbled. "Your dad is a dick and your cousin ain't such a prize--"

"Marco?" Race interrupted. "He--what did he do?"

"Yelled a lot. He's... not thrilled with us, either."

"Jesus." Race shooed Spot's hand and the ice off of his face. "I can't believe he's my fucking father. I can't believe I lived with such..." He trailed off.

Spot cocked his head. "I can't believe you lived with him and turned out the way you did."

"Yeah? Well I can't believe all the shit you've been through and that you're still the most amazing fucking person ever." Race looked up into Spot's eyes, and really, truly smiled for the first time that night. "...I can't believe we're together. And no one is left who can stop us..."

"So what's stopping us?"

"Don't talk to me about it; usually you're the one who sticks your tongue down my throat."

So Spot didn't talk anymore. He stuck his tongue down Race's throat, set aside the ice, and wrapped himself around Race. Race kissed back and found himself utterly lost in the kiss, in Spot's arms, in Spot. Because his mind still hadn't quite dealt with the day yet, and Spot was an amazing distraction.

Between kisses, Spot began to mumble something about, "Get you outta... these... wet clothes..." And acted on it, and Race responded with, "Get you outta these dry clothes..."

And after that, it was really amazing to either one of them that they'd gone so long in hiding. Because some things were just obviously right, and Spot and Race together was one of them.

"And sex officially solves everything..." David yawned as Jack walked him home. "At least, for a little while. With Race and Spot that is."

Jack shrugged. "I guess."

"You okay?"

"Meh."

David rolled his eyes, and shoved Jack with his elbow. "Come on, there's no reason to be jealous. Actually, you should be happy for him."

"I am!"

"Then why the long face?"

"Because!" Jack exclaimed. "Because, he's lived with me for like, I dunno, awhile, but it's his friggin boyfriend living with us that cheers him up? I can barely make Spot smile, and Tony can do it in a matter of seconds. I fucking hate it."

David sighed a little and ran a hand through his hair. "Jack..."

"I know, I know. So long as Spot's happy, that's all I should care about and I'm not gonna be a dick to Tony or anything, but it still makes me... You know, jealous."

David though for a second, and finally commented, "You know, that's not really so bad, Jack. I mean, you do care about him. You just said what you want is for him to be happy. Which makes you a pretty good brother, when you get down to it."

"...You worry about Sarah, ever?"

"Are you kidding me? She's dating you."

There was a pause.

"Does that mean you do or you don't?" Jack asked finally.

David laughed and shoved him gently, and started up the path to his front door. "I'll see you tomorrow, Jack," he called. "I'll stop by on my way to the bus to make sure Tony's okay."

Jack smiled back at him. "'Night, Davey." He waved, and waited to make sure David got all the way inside safely before he started back to his own house.

The next morning, it took a joint effort of Denise, David, Jack and Spot trying to wake up Race.

It wasn't working very well.

He really did sleep like a rock. Denise quickly gave up, and Jack seemed to have resumed his previous opinion of Race, when David just hauled the guy straight off the mattress, and dumped him on the floor.

Race barely moved.

So finally, they all just walked out. Even Spot. Race was left in a snoring pile on the floor. It wasn't so bad, because they all woke early (not as early as Spot, but early) so there was time to spare.

But STILL.

David sighed and finally walked back to Spot's room, let himself in. "You're not asleep, Tony."

"...Shutup."

"Yeah, yeah. You have to deal with what happened yesterday; you can't lie on the floor all day and pretend it didn't happen."

"I bet I could if I tried."

"Get up, Tony."

Race sighed. "Do I hafta?"

"Yes." David offered him a hand, and grudgingly Racetrack let himself be pulled up, found a shirt and a pair of pants and walked absently into the kitchen.

"Sleeping beauty wakes," Denise said.

"Mpmmph. 'S early."

David punched his shoulder playfully. "You always think it's too early to be up."

"It is. Everything before nine is..." He yawned. "Too early."

"Slacker," Jack said, but not maliciously.

Denise handed Racetrack a box of Lucky Charms and a bowl, and he sat down next to Spot.

"So..." Denise said. "We're gonna have to figure out what you're doing about school, since I'm guessing your parents are paying for that."

Race nodded, suddenly preoccupied with pouring milk into his cereal, and not wanting to think about it or hear about it.

"And you can't just drop out of school for the year," she continued. He put the milk down, picked up a spoon and began to mush his cereal up. "...But for today, I suppose, you can go with Sean and Jack; we'll figure the rest out this evening."

"...And you guys have your audition this afternoon."

Race dropped his spoon into his bowl and stared at David. "Shit, that's TODAY."

"That's what I said."

"Because if we get it the show is Sunday."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Christ..." He picked his spoon out of his cereal and wiped it off with a napkin.

"You'll be fine," Spot said lazily, shoving his spoon around his bowl. Denise shot him a look . "I'm not hungry."

"You aren't gonna get adopted if they think I don't feed you."

Spot just rolled his eyes.

"It won't be FINE, Dutchy JUST got back!" Race started to whimper. "We only have, like, two songs that are presentable."

"What about the cover you did of--"

"NOT PRESENTABLE."

"Oh don't shout, it's so loud and obnoxious," Denise sighed. "Then practice."

"It's too late!" Race exclaimed. "We might not even get in! Do you realize what we're up against?"

"No."

"Gods! Some of these guys are gods of underground rock music."

"Then you're screwed."

"SPOT."

"What?"

"I could use a little support from you here. Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know, my boyfriend?"

Spot rolled his eyes and said in as monotone a voice as he could manage, "Oh, Tony. Don't you worry. Things will be fine. You're certainly not blowing it out of proportion."

"Ass," Race muttered.

"You like it."

"Your ass? Yes. I do."

"OKAY, you two, not at the table," Denise interrupted.

David laughed. "I gotta go catch my bus. I'll bring you today's homework, Tony."

"Goody, you do that."

"You'll be thanking me when you don't fail chem."

"At this point, the chances of me not failing chem are about the same as the chances of my father showing up at the door to beg my forgiveness."

Everyone cast a look at the door, which, of course, remained exactly as it was.

"See? Totally failing."

"You will not."

"I sure will."

"Well, with that attitude--"

"Oh, go away," Race sulked. David smacked the back of his head gently, grabbed his jacket and headed out, waving as he left.

"Don't be mean to Davey," Jack growled under his breath.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your wife's feelings?"

"Fuck you--"

"Okay, okay, okay," Denise broke in again. "Sean, you're being good. You two, clean up the table."

"WHAT!?"

Spot smiled and left the room, saying something about sitting in the living room and basking in the comfortable sofa.

Race and Jack glared at the other as they cleaned up and Denise left the room. "He's my friend, I was joking around," Race muttered.

"He's still trying to help."

"It's our thing,"

"YOUR thing."

Race snorted. "Just forget it."

Jack didn't respond, so he obviously agreed with Race on that one. How Spot could get along with someone so idiotic was beyond him.

Granted, he was really tired and grumpy and kind of a mess, so his tolerance level wasn't sweeping a nation.

Race gathered dishes and began to wash them, while Jack kind of stood there. Because Race was doing what was basically all of the work, but he didn't want to be blamed for not doing anything so he couldn't actually leave. And finally he muttered, "I'm trying to get along with you, so don't be a dickhead."

Race glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah? I was just joking around with David. The same way we always do. Don't be so sensitive."

"Don't tell me what to do."

Race rolled his eyes. "You sound like Mari--" He stopped.

He might never get to hear Maria whine at him again.

"...Tony?" Jack finally asked, as Race collected himself and went back to work on the dishes. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just had a--moment."

"Your sister'll be fine. She's a good kid."

"I know, but--Christ, I should be there." He mumbled the next part so quietly that Jack could barely hear him above the running water. "What if she forgets me?"

Jack snorted. "No one could forget you. I've tried."

Race looked up at him, and then smirked and let out a laugh. "Thanks for that."

"It's no problem, really."

"You wanna do anything, or are you gonna stand there?"

"Stand here, thanks." Race shook his head, and flicked some water at Jack. "Hey! Fucker!"

"I so won, wash this."

Jack grumbled and grabbed the plate.

But there wasn't anymore arguing.

"I'm walking to school."

"You wouldn't leave your car the school's lot, and Denise is taking Jack's van while her car is in the shop this morning."

"I'm WALKING to school, Spot, this is...not right."

"Cry me a river." He rolled his eyes. "She's gonna drop the van off, so it's not like you'll have to walk home."

"This sucks."

"Shut up!" Jack snapped. "You woman!"

"This coming from the guy who thought Pretty In Pink was a moving movie," Spot mused. Jack punched Spot's arm. There was no elaboration.

Race kind of chuckled. There didn't need to be elaboration, and the whole problem was solved because a moment later Itey pulled up, Dutchy in the back.

"Tony?" he asked, and Dutchy smiled and then pretended he hadn't.

"Yo."

"Uh..."

Jack climbed in to the front, so Spot and Race took the back; Blink was clearly going to be late because he'd spent the night at Mush's, so they didn't need to worry about running out of seatbelts.

"Ummm... So what're you doing here?"

"Huh. Funny story about that," Race answered. "I got kicked out of my house last night."

He let it sit for a moment while everyone else reacted, and then Itey actually turned around and yelped, "WHAT?!"

"Itey, ONCOMING TRAFFIC!" Jack yelled in response, and yanked on the wheel, pulling it back to where it belonged.

Itey went back to driving, but repeated, "What?"

"We had sex and his dad found out," Spot supplied, picking at the rip on the knee of his jeans.

"Oh my god!"

"How was it?"

"DUTCHY!"

"Fucking awesome."

"SPOT!"

Itey sighed and glanced at Race through the mirror. "Tony? You okay?"

Race shrugged. "Uh? Not really? I'm staying with Jack and Spot now though... Dad hates me. Like, more than usual."

Itey bit his lip. Race wasn't getting too into it, obviously, because he was trying to keep his mind away from...that. But still, Itey didn't want to just drop it.

"So what, are you going to our school now?"

"Until further notice, I guess."

"You sure you're okay?"

"No...we have the audition after school."

"We're gonna die," Dutchy supplied.

"You'll be fine," Jack sighed.

"We will not, we've got NOTHING," Itey said.

"Itey, you didn't skip your coffee this--"

"Sophie told me to cut down!"

"Um..." Race said. "Sophia's advice isn't always great. And, um... Christ. My dad probably isn't going to want her hanging out with you anymore, given... Well, me."

There was a long silence, and finally Dutchy filled in with a very simple, "Your dad's a real dickhead."

The drive to school wasn't very long, and people piled out of the car and towards the building, splitting off to head to various classes. Race followed Spot, a little bit culture shocked; he was used to perfectly uniformed students in ultra-sanitized hallways, not to liberally graffiti'd, trash strewn hall and being shoved aside by kids who looked like...

Well, like their parents couldn't afford to buy them a Lexus.

Spot started towards his study hall, but the bell rang and the hallway cleared out, and he was stopped by a cheerful looking blond girl whose hair fell in soft waves, smiling at him.

"'Morning, Sean!"

"Oh. Hi." Spot didn't sound too thrilled as she walked up to them.

"How was your weekend?"

"Okay."

She paused, clearly waiting for him to ask the same in return, then sighed. "I... Broke up with Steve yesterday."

Spot stared blankly at her, then kind of shrugged. "And?"

"And? Well...what do you think?"

"He was a dick, good call." Spot glanced at Race. "Come on, Tony,"

They started off, but she stopped him. "Sean, I...I was wondering if you were free after school?"

"...Why?"

"Because!" she chirped. "I got paid last Friday, sooo I'm kinda living it large right now." She laughed. Spot nodded slightly and she cleared her throat. "Anyway, so, I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie or something?"

Race burst out into a coughing fit. The girl gave him an odd kind of pouty look.

"Shut up, Tony."

"Who's this?" She cocked her head.

"This is Tony."

"Oh." She smiled. She had a very pretty smile. "Hi Tony! I'm Jessica."

Race stared. "Hi?" he squeaked. "YOU'RE Jessica?"

"Yes... Why?" she asked, suspicious.

Race turned to Spot. "That's her?"

"Well--"

"You told him about me?" She blushed. Spot looked very stressed by the whole thing.

"Uh." Spot winced a little. "Yeah, Tony, that's Jessica. Um, this is Tony. He's..." It was, he realized, the first time he'd said it to someone outside of their group of friends, and he suddenly found the whole thing EXTREMELY nerve wracking. "He's kind of my boyfriend."

"Kind of?" Race mumbled, and Spot elbowed him hard in the ribcage. He started to curse, but Jessica interrupted him.

"Your..." She gave him a weird look. "Boyfriend?"

"Well... Yeah." She blinked a few times. Spot groaned. "Don't... Don't like freak out or anything, okay?"

"I--I'm not." She gave Race a very awkward look. "Hi. Tony."

"Hey."

She looked like she wanted to run away, and Spot mumbled, "I thought you knew I was gay."

"I thought gay guys didn't--didn't do what we did," she answered, and continued to babble. "I thought--I mean, you said you were gay and everyone else says your gay but... like, you know, you don't act like that Ryan kid, even if you ARE friends with him, and... And I never saw you with a boy or anything so I figured it was just rumors or something and then when we--at that party..." She finally stopped.

"Uhhh." Spot seemed at a total loss of words.

She gave him a confused look and finally said, "You should go to class." And she walked away.

Spot looked at Race. "So what the hell did all of that mean?"

Race's mouth dropped open, and he turned and continued walking, even though he didn't know where he was going.

"What?" Spot asked. "What, what is it?"

"Are you serious?" Race shook his head. "Like, really?"

Spot was about to answer, but a group of pretty girls were walking by and they all stopped in front of Spot.

"Hey, Sean?" One of them asked. "Yeah, we heard that you and Jessica broke up?"

Spot made a very confused facial expression, that was kind of funny, so Race snorted. "What?" Then he looked pissed off. "We didn't have anything to fucking break."

"So you're available?" She bit her lip.

"NO!" Spot walked around her. "Come on, Tony..."

"Who's your friend!?" one of the girls called after them.

Race started laughing as Spot finally dragged him into the safety of study hall, where he was relatively certain no one was going to hit on him. Or Race.

"Mr. Conlon; you're late."

"Also, the sky's still blue."

The study hall monitor rolled his eyes. "Do you have a pass?"

"Nope."

"Go sit down." He paused and noticed Racetrack for the first time. "...Your guest?"

"He sure is."

"Did he get cleared through the office?"

"Nope."

The teacher sighed. "Go take him to the office and get him signed in, please. And pick up a late pass while you're there."

Spot rolled his eyes and strode back out of the classroom, Race in tow.

"This place is..." Race started, and trailed off, not wanting to inadvertently insult the lifestyle around him. Not when he considered it probably counted as his lifestyle now, too.

"Ghetto?" Spot said. "Yeah; it sucks. It's all bullshit. Come on, on, the office is this--" He stopped abruptly and muttered a curse word under his breath.

"What?"

Spot pointed down the hallway, and Race followed his gaze to see... To see the incredibly gorgeous Steve Olsen walking purposefully towards them.

"I forgot I pissed him off this weekend. Fuck."

"Uh... What's he gonna--"

"CONLON, you goddamn FAGGOT!"

Spot warily stared down Steve, not as angry as he usually would have been, because something about having Racetrack with him left him a bit more mellow than usual. So instead of starting an insult yelling spree, he just waited.

Steve stood tough in front of Spot, but Spot just raised his eyebrows, which kind of made Steve look a bit ridiculous.

"You fucking..." Steve sneered. "Jess dumped me, you fucker, because of you."

"Yeah, I heard that joke. Got a good laugh, thanks. I'm leaving." Spot started off, and Race followed until Steve grabbed Spot's elbow.

"You asking for a fight, Conlon?"

"No, but you know what you should do? You should go get laid. Because that's what I did. With your girl. Three times in one night."

Abruptly, Steve swung at him, but Spot ducked, and then three teachers came out of the staff room. Spot took Steve's moment of hesitation to hurry off, dragging Race along with him.

"Wow, you were provoking him." Race paused. "Three times?"

"Not really." He shuddered a little. "Gross, I barely managed it stinking drunk once... She, of course, had a great time. I'm awesome that way."

"So you were provoking him."

"I didn't mean to." Which was basically true. "It's kind of my instinct."

"To get the crap beat out of you? Healthy instinct there, Spot."

"Like you should talk, since I seem to recall 'cocaine plus daddy equals--'"

"Shut up."

"I'm just saying. You don't exactly avoid fights yourself."

"Yeah, but... That's different."

"Is not." He stopped walking and nodded towards a large, glass-walled room. "In here."

The principal's secretary looked up, and saw him, and groaned. "In trouble again, Sean?"

"Nah; just looking for a late pass and a guest pass for my friend."

"Oh?" She looked critically at Racetrack, then nodded. "Well, you just fill out this form," she handed him a clipboard with a sheet of paper already waiting, "and you sign in."

So Race filled out the form, which was really pretty basic stuff (who he was, who he was with, how long he was staying) and handed it back. In return, the secretary filled out a small yellow piece of paper and handed it to him to give to anyone who asked to see it, and handed Spot a pink slip.

They were on their way out when Blink strode in.

"Spot! What's--Tony?"

"Hey."

The secretary sighed. "Why can't any of you boys be on time?" she demanded.

Blink gave her a wave and stared at Race. "Tony, boy, what are you doing here?"

"Dad kicked me out."

"We had sex!" Spot announced. Race punched his elbow, and Spot yipped slightly, and punched him back.

The office went silent.

"Nice!" He and Blink slapped hands and Race just shook his head. "Oh, wait, you were kicked out? Why?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Yeah, sure, just let me get my late pass." Blink strode over to the secretary, and Race gave a mean look to his boyfriend.

"What?" Spot asked.

"Do you have to tell everyone?"

"Duh. YOU made me wait. I have the right. Wanna go screw in the bathroom?"

"NO."

"Your loss." Spot shrugged. "Hey, Blinken, hurry it up!"

"Am!" Blink called back, and then joined them in the next couple of seconds. They walked out of the office, Race in the middle. Blink threw an arm around him.

"Okay, little guy, so your dad found out, eh?"

"Yeah. And don't call me that."

"And you're living with the twig, right, little guy?"

"I'm not little."

"That's funny."

"I'm not!"

"You're what, four feet tall?"

"Fuck YOU. Jesus. Why are you in such a good mood?"

"Um. Spent the night at Mush's. You do the math."

Race made a face. "You left your handcuffs at home."

And Blink stared at him, and the look on his face was definitely payback for being called 'little guy'. Spot started laughing, and so did Race, and Blink looked utterly horrified.

"How the hell did you--I know I didn't tell you about that!" he yelped, and smacked Spot, who smacked him back and threw Race a knowing look. Race smirked.

"I hate you both," Blink sulked.

"Awwww."

"You both SUCK."

Spot nodded. "Tony does. He's real good at it, especially since he'd never done it before."

"SPOT!"

"Hey, it's a compliment," Blink said philosophically.

"But NOT any of anyone's BUSINESS."

"Well, it's my business," Spot pointed out.

"But not his!"

Spot and Blink threw looks at each other, and it was Blink's turn to laugh. So Race muttered irritably, "You know, Maria wanted to know why the hell I'd date a loser like Spot when Mush was a perfectly nice gay boy with much better fashion sense."

Blink scowled. "She did NOT want you dating my boy."

"Better him than Spot."

"You suck."

"Oh, come on," Spot muttered. "Jesus, Blink; he's not dating Mush, and you know Mush adores you, so get over it."

Blink gave them another brief dark moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, true; it was definitely me that Mush was doing dirty things to last night--"

"NO!" Race yelped. "No dirty! Mush is not dirty!"

And Blink just smiled knowingly and didn't say anything else about it.

"So..." Blink gave a side look to Spot. "How was it?" Spot nodded, and grinned. "Yeah, I knew it would be."

Race started to pout.

They finally reached study hall, and Blink entered in a very dramatic, and kind of flamboyant fashion, but something about is was kind of masculine. Blink was like that. Spot sat down next to him, and then stole a small boy with glasses's chair, and gave it to Race.

"Uh...but that's his--"

"Do I care?" Spot shrugged. "Hey, Stewie? Do you care?"

The boy tried to speak up, but Blink broke in. "He don't care."

The teacher glared at them, and then looked at Race. "So. Who are you?"

"I'm Tony."

"...Tony...?"

Race just stared at him, and the teacher sighed. "You signed in downstairs?"

"Yeah."

"Fine." The teacher rolled his eyes and decided ignoring was easier than anything else.

"So Blink... What are we gonna do at the audition tonight?" Race finally asked.

"The audition tonight?" He paused, then, "HOLY SHIT THAT'S TONIGHT."

"Jesus, don't ANY of you guys look at the date?" Spot muttered.

"Oh my GOD oh my GOD oh my GOD it's TONIGHT and we're not PREPARED and--"

"Blink!" Spot hissed. "Calm the fuck down!"

Blink gave him a panicked look. "What if we suck?"

"You won't suck!" Spot snapped, then amended, "Well, Tony might suck my--"

"Spot!" Race yelped indignantly. "For a guy who claims to hate PDAs you sure talk a lot."

"This is school, it doesn't fucking count."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't give a flying fuck what people here think of me." Spot gave him a challenging look.

"Yeah?" Race asked.

"Yeah."

Race smirked. "Then make out with me. Here. In front of... everyone."

"Uhhhhh." Spot hesitated and glanced around, and they discovered they were speaking loudly enough that they were getting weird looks. "Like... here here?"

"Yes, right here."

"You know, if you'd gotten up earlier we could have had sex before breakfast."

"Well, I didn't. So are you scared of PDAs or aren't you?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

"Then--"

And Spot grabbed Race's shirt, pulled him close, and kissed him in front of Blink, the teacher, and everyone else. And it was a good kiss, too, so Race didn't let him pull away for quite awhile.

Finally, they were yanked apart by a very angry looking study hall teacher indeed, and he glared down at them. Spot grinned cheesily, and Race, suddenly shy, looked down at his hands, almost tempted to start whistling.

He was surprised when no one shouted anything about 'fags', but when he got a good look at the class he wasn't too surprised.

It was probably a good thing he got a look at the classroom then, because the teacher shoved Spot and him out in the hall, slamming the door behind him.

"Mr. Conlon, did you bring in this boy merely for... for that?"

Spot smiled. "Now, sir, you know me better than that."

"If you did it to piss me off..."

"So close."

Race just was silent.

Then the teacher turned on him. "You have no right to come waltzing in here and..." He lost some of his steam. "And...oh for chrissake, just don't do it again and get back in there, I'm sick of this."

Race blinked.

This school would take some getting used to.

B: Well. We were joking when we said it would take a year to update, but, uh... Joke's on us! My computer broke, or this would have been up about three weeks ago.

F: I was going through serious B withdrawal. I thought I was gonna die. It was just awful.

B: And I was going through internet withdrawal. You want awful, try that one.

F: Ahem. and what about ME?

B: I mean, I missed her, too. Deeply.

F: That's better.

B: Soooooo, we'll try to be faster with the next one. It might not work, but... you're used to that by now, right?

F: The longer the wait, the beettterrr the resuuuullttsss.

-celebrated with lemon gelato-