I ain't happy, I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine, in a bag
I'm useless, but not for long
The future is coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
It's coming on
Finally someone let me out of my cage
Now, time for me is nothing 'cause I'm counting no age
Now I couldn't be there
Now you shouldn't be scared
I'm good at repairs
-Clint Eastwood, Gorillaz
Chapter 24: The Morning After
"Stop calling, Itey, no one's gonna pick up."
"Screw you!"
Dutchy and Blink sighed as Itey dialed the number again, for about the eighth time in the past minute. To be fair, Dutchy and Blink had tried calling for about an hour with him, but had stopped eventually, knowing full well it was useless, no matter how worried they were and how many times they called.
Mush was being very level-headed about the whole thing, which was probably because everyone else was a nervous wreck.
Blink was just as worried about Race as the next person, but his thoughts kept drifting to his best friend, who'd been dragged into the whole thing because of his and Race's relationship. He was really worried about Spot.
And Dutchy couldn't get over the whole mafia thing anyway; he was just sitting and staring off into space while Itey went nuts by the phone.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," Itey finally mumbled and slammed the phone back into the cradle. "She won't answer her cell, the house line is disconnected and if she's not okay--"
"She'll be fine," Mush interrupted. "I know Sophie, okay? She's strong. Probably stronger than Tony. She'll be fine."
"I just want to talk to her, to make sure she's okay--and Tony and Spot..." Itey practically threw himself down onto his chair and that was frightening too, because Itey was upset. Itey never really got upset, he was always so... Calm.
The door opened without a knock and everyone stared as Jack and David walked in, looking kind of dazed.
"Any word?" Blink finally asked.
There was a pause, then at the same time, "Marco came by and--" and, "Tony's cousin thinks we're gay!"
"Shut up, Jack," David snapped. "Marco came by. No real information but..." He shrugged. "I think he's sort of okay with Spot and all."
Jack snorted.
"Oh, great. Because we were all just waiting for his approval," Blink added. "The ass."
"Plus he thinks we're gay," Jack pouted.
Dutchy smiled and fluttered his eye lashes. "You are. And it's sweet."
"Oh, oh what was that?" Jack asked. "Were you accusing me of drooling over a short-stocked drummer already taken by a girly faced twig? Oh, no, wait, that's YOU!"
Blink laughed. "Good burn."
"Yeah?" Dutchy shot back. "At least I'm not dating Sarah."
"Oooohhhhhh!" everyone chorused.
Jack started on a long string of curses and before long had gone for Itey's parents' beer. Luckily, Itey's parents were out at Jose's parent teacher night.
"We should all be so fucking drunk now," Dutchy said, grabbing a beer as well. "Serious."
"Dutchy, it's a Tuesday." David sounded a little pained.
"And our drummer's life is disintegrating around him, Itey can't get in touch with his girlfriend, and Spot is off being threatened by homophobes with guns. Wheeee! Cheers. Happy Tuesday." Dutchy held up his beer.
There was a pause.
And then there was drinking.
No one was really drunk yet when Blink finally asked what everyone wanted to discuss. "So... Do you think he really... You know, is in the mob?"
No one said anything for a second. Itey glanced at David, like he was looking for permission. David shrugged a tiny bit. So Itey cleared his throat and said, "Yeah."
"You think Tony knew?"
Itey nodded. And so did David.
Dutchy, who was far more drunk than anyone else was, let out a long gasp. "If he was IN the mob, I'll go out of my freaking MIND."
"Dutchy..."
"That's HOT."
"So like...wait a second..." Itey cleared his throat. "Back up. You know how Tony was like... taking care of the whole Dutchy in court thing and giving him advice and all that?"
Only David seemed to register what Itey was saying, and his eyes widened. "You don't think..."
"I really do."
"Woah..." David raised his eyebrows and took a polite sip of his beer. "Oh Tony..."
"Oh Tony what?" Jack snapped.
"Oh, you should shut up, you really should," said Itey. Jack pouted and David gave the small of his back a pat. Dutchy gasped again and pointed.
"GAY!"
"Fuck YOU!"
"You WANT to because you're GAY!"
"Wait a second." Blink frowned. He wasn't as drunk as Dutchy (mostly because Mush kept giving him disapproving looks,) but he wasn't quite sober, either. He scrunched up his face, thinking hard. "I think Itey just said Tony's in the mafia too!" He turned to Mush. "Did he say that?"
"You're drunk."
"He did!"
Mush sighed and took the beer out of Blink's hand. He gave David and Itey a vaguely annoyed look, then shrugged. "Yeah, Itey said... Something like that."
They all looked at Itey, who looked a little uncomfortable, and finally sighed. "Yeah. Just... You know, Tony got off easy but we figured it was because his family's rich and all and... Whoa, hey, them being so rich makes total sense if his Dad's--yeah. Anyway. But if his family has, you know, connections..."
"But that's not HIM," Jack said.
"BUT, okay... See, his family wouldn't give a shit about Dutchy. But he would. So if HE was involved..." He glanced at Dutchy. "You did get off real easy."
"Community service," Dutchy agreed, and then his eyes went wide. "Whoa. WHOA. Oh my fucking GOD he's in the MAFIA!"
There was a long silence, then Jack muttered, "God DAMN IT," and began to drink again. But at least he didn't storm out of the room.
David cleared his throat. "Itey, would you calm down?"
"But there's no other..."
"Tony isn't in the mafia," David said. "Really, I love him, but he'd screw up. He would. And not to mention, if he was, don't you really think he wouldn't have TIME for a band? God...why are you all so stupid when you're drunk?"
"Why aren't you stupid EVER?" Jack snapped back. "Listen, it would make total sense! God, I swear, if he pulls one fucking mo-"
"Hey, asshole?" Dutchy snapped. "Mafia or no, Tony got me out of jail."
Jack shut up after that, but his face was still contorted into an expression that couldn't really be described.
"Yeah, Jack," Blink snapped. "Stop being a dick."
"Ass."
"Hey, back off," David said. "He's only worried about his brother, stop taking your frustration out on him, okay? Tony is not in the mafia."
"Well, why not?" Mush said.
"I know him too well."
"So do I!"
"But you're not his mom."
They all gave David a weird look at that, and he rolled his eyes. "Oh, come ON. I'm all of your moms. You all know it."
"You know," Mush said, "that was a very weird sentence. 'I'm all of your Moms.' It--"
"Mush. Focus."
"Right." Mush nodded, and Blink kissed his cheek.
"So what I'm saying is that Tony wouldn't--he just wouldn't."
"Why not?" Jack demanded. "He shows up in his fancy car, with his damn cell phone and everything he's ever wanted and--"
"Jack, would you chill out?" David snapped. "Tony's not in the mafia because Tony's family all think he's a screw up. Drug addict, remember? Yeah; if I was, I don't know, someone with an interest in SELLING DRUGS, I probably wouldn't want the ADDICT involved. Also, if I was... You know, in the mob... I'd want solid, reliable people; not people prone to nervous breakdowns and... Drug habits."
"You're a little repetitive there, Davey."
"I know. But it's a good point." David sounded like he was daring people to challenge him. No one did.
"But if he isn't in the mob than how did Dutchy get off?" Itey asked.
"Hey, Itey, your girlfriend's a mafia princess!" Dutchy answered drunkenly.
Itey went a little pale.
"Well, that makes the fact that they threatened to kill you if you hurt her a little more scary," Mush noted.
Itey eeped.
"It'sh kinda hot if'ya ask me..." Dutchy slurred.
Itey narrowed his eyes. "I didn't."
"Hey," Jack said again. "Don't change the subject. David." Jack turned and looked at him, hard. "How DID Dutchy get off?"
"For fuck's sake, would you stop being such a dick?" David snapped.
Jack's eyes widened a bit in surprise. "Excuse me?"
"I know you're worried about Spot and you have this insecurity complex that everyone will ignore you and think Tony is the greatest, but you know, right now, this entire situation? Yeah, NOT ABOUT YOU! God!" David took a long swig of his beer. "Sometimes you drive me CRAZY."
Jack's face fell. Jack's entire demeanor fell. David glanced at him, then away, then back at him, kind of horrified. "Oh, God, Jack, I didn't mean--"
"No. You're right. I'm a jerk."
"Jack, I didn't--you aren't--"
"I am, and you're right. You're always right."
"Jack--" David broke off, then laughed for a second. "Christ, we are SO gay."
Jack snorted. "Except the part where we're attracted to girls."
"Yeah. Aside from that." David put a hand on his shoulder. "Seriously, just chill. We're all kind of on edge, okay?"
Jack nodded, and leaned into David a little. "Sorry," he mumbled again.
Then they noticed that everyone else was staring at them, and David turned red and Jack started to drink again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the shortest fight in history. The wondercouple is back together," Mush noted.
"Jack doesn't even have to sleep on the couch tonight!" Blink added.
"Shut up..." David mumbled.
Itey cleared his throat. "So..." He glanced around. "Uh, how DID Dutchy get off, then?"
They all considered the question (really just David, Mush and Itey because Jack was a bit of a bubblehead and Dutchy was drunk and since Mush was preoccupied, Blink was almost drunk too) and finally, Mush shrugged.
"Blank," he said. "Maybe he asked his dad?"
"Like his dad would do anything for him," Itey snorted. "He's a dick, remember?"
"You're cynical t'night..." Dutchy grinned at Itey. "I like it..."
Itey made a face. "Plleeaseee just drink and shut up..."
"Maybe Tony just...I dunno, maybe his dad said he would if Tony like, mowed the lawn for a week or something?" Mush said. Everyone was silent. "I'm stupid..."
"No, wait, you're on to something!" Itey exclaimed, taking a long chug from the distracted David's beer bottle. "Like...I dunno..."
"You're such a cheap date..." Blink gave Itey's back a pat.
"Maybe Tony just...god, I have no idea..." David bit his lip.
"WAIT!" Blink yelped suddenly, his eyes going wide again and he nearly fell off his chair. Mush sighed and grabbed his arm to steady him.
"...yes?" Mush finally prompted.
"He said..." He frowned. "That morning. I said he should talk to his dad and he said... Fuck, what was it? That he was going to and that--"
"That his family politics are way more fucked up than any of us know," Mush supplied, because he remembered that morning with amazing clarity. He kissed Blink's cheek. "You're brilliant."
"He said that, too!"
Dutchy was kind of staring at the floor, then reached for another beer and drained half of it before setting it down. No one noticed, which was just as well, because he didn't want anyone to ask him what he'd thought of that morning. Because waking up in the hospital had been more nightmareish than he could really explain.
"So he was pretty much right that we don't understand," David mused. "So there we go. Tony... Got help from his dad. Somehow. And his dad's in the mafia. God. His dad kills people..."
"Don't even TALK about it..." Itey shuddered. "...I'm calling Sophie."
"You know, you're gonna wake up dead one day," Jack mused logically.
Itey started to whine, and Mush gave his back a pat. "Jack is just being mean. And don't call; you're getting drunk. That wouldn't go over too well if you got through."
"I guess there's nothing to do but sit and wait, is there?" David shrugged. "Besides, Tony will let us know what's up sooner or later...he's like that."
"What about Spot?" Blink asked. "How's he gonna do? What if they..."
"I don't know what Spot will do," David replied. "No one does. We just have to...be here, I guess. And he might not even want that."
"Spot always wants that, he just won't admit it," Jack mumbled.
"What?" David gave him a weird look.
Jack shrugged, and David looked at Blink, who shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, Jack, but he'll kick your ass if he ever finds out you said that."
"Spot's... kind of messed up," David said.
"Spot is extremely messed up," Blink answered.
"Hey, that's my brother you're talking about, whore!"
"I know." Blink grinned. "I love him. So do you. And so does Tony, by the way, jackass. Heh. Jackass--"
"Okay, now you SOUND like Spot, and that joke was NEVER FUNNY." Jack crossed his arms and sulked, and David laughed and put an arm around him. And didn't care how much everyone thought he was gay.
David never cared about things like that. Jack really loved that about him.
"I really fucking wish Spot or Tony would just call--"
The phone started ringing.
"Creepy, that's twice today that's happened--"
"Well, ANSWER IT!" Mush yelled at Itey, because it was Itey's house.
"I...Uuh..." Itey gulped. "David!"
"David!"
"David!
"Davesid!"
"Davey!"
"All RIGHT!" David snapped. "Jesus." He picked up the phone, took a deep breath, and finally let out a professional sounding, "Hello?"
"Who is it?"
"Who is it?"
"Who is it?"
"Who's itsa?"
"Daveeeyyy--"
David flipped them all off, and there was a quick silence. David didn't say much for awhile; the person on the other line was talking a LOT.
Finally, David said, "Oh. Fuck."
"Fuck? What fuck? What is going on, Davey--"
"Quiet! What? No, not you, everyone else is--Well, we're worried." Pause. "Of course we're worried." Pause. "Serious, don't argue with me; we love you, idiot. Okay?" Painfully long pause. "Now you're just babbling... Well, you ARE and--What? Okay. Yeah. Yeah. No, we're fine, just worried...
"Yeah, you should have heard Denise, he looked TERRIFIED." David laughed. "Seriously. It was awesome." Pause. "Do your chem homework. Let Spot talk to Jack." Pause. "Okay. Okay. Yes. Fine, don't say I never did anything for you. 'Night, Tony." Pause.
Then he held the phone over to Jack, and everyone stared at him, and he sighed. Jack decided to actually take advantage of the fact that the phone was cordless and walked out of the room with it, shutting the door behind him.
"WELL?" Mush finally demanded loudly.
"He's... well, not coping very well." David looked like he didn't want to talk about it. "But he says Sophia's fine."
"Can I talk to her?" Itey demanded.
David stared down at the floor. "Apparently... Uh... Apparently not. They, uh. His family doesn't want..."
"Fuck," Itey mumbled, and David was glad he didn't have to finish the sentence.
"He's pissed about it."
"Will he be okay?"
"No idea." David shrugged. "He's fine now. Except his family is being really... Pretty cruel."
"Big surprise..." Dutchy said. "Big surprise big surprise big surpRISE, BIG surpriiseee--"
"GOD shut him up..." Itey snapped. "I wanna die."
"Stop being suicidal."
"Your MOM is suicidal!"
Blink groaned. Mush gave him a look. "See how stupid being drunk off your ass makes you?"
David sighed. "Anyway, he also said he'd try and explain the next time he saw us. Okay?"
"Yeah..." Mush sighed. "Davey..."
"I'm worried too." Jack entered the room again, and David glanced up at him as he sat back down. "That was quick."
"He didn't talk much..."
"Oh no..."
"Yeah, he was just saying, 'fine,' 'I'm fine,' 'not hungry,' and shit..." Jack ran his hands through his hair. "Which is Spot talk for, 'I'm depressed.'"
Blink bit his lip. "I say we bombard the house and make sure we see them whether the family likes it or not."
"And die?" David said.
"Whatever!"
"Serious. Did you forget the part where the mafia kills people?" David mumbled. "This bites. This is... Fuck, I can't even..."
Jack put a hand on his shoulder.
No one said anything.
And finally Mush muttered, "You know what? This whole thing seriously fucking SUCKS and I am not even a little bit drunk."
"It's Tuesday," David said.
"And you're not drunk either!" Mush grabbed the only two remaining beers and shoved one forcefully into David's hands. "There's more at Blink's. Come on. I'm gonna go get totally trashed." He stood up and began to stomp towards the door. Blink followed quickly, and everyone else sort of exchanged looks and then followed Blink.
Mush wanting to drink was a bad, bad sign.
The couch unfolded into a bed, and Race and Spot were already lying in it, mindless cartoons on the TV again. Because neither one of them knew what to say to the other. They weren't even touching.
Reluctantly, everyone had left them alone for the night. Maria went to bed at nine on the dot, with a bedtime story from Marco, despite her loud protestations that she wanted one from her brother. He and Sophia had school the next day, so around eleven, Marco and Izzy had left them to their own devices as well. But with everyone else gone...
Footsteps echoed down the stairs and Race reached for Spot's hand as he glanced over. He'd expected to see Maurice or Mario, coming to yell at them one last time; maybe Izzy to say goodnight again. He hadn't expected to see his mother.
He stared fixedly at the TV and she cleared her throat.
"Anthony..."
He glanced over at her, then away. Locking emotions down, off his face, was a skill he'd learned from his father, ironically, because it served him so well now that his father was gone. He was angry, he was depressed, he was scared... But all anyone saw was that he was cold.
She tried again. "I suppose I should have specified one of you ought to sleep on the floor."
"I thought you didn't make company sleep on the floor," Race answered, his voice flat.
"You could volunteer."
"I got the impression I was company, too. The unwanted kind."
"Tony..."
He clicked the remote to turn the television off. "You really want to have this fight now, Mom? I have school in the morning. I should go to bed. In the bed I'm sharing with my boyfriend."
"This isn't easy for me, Anthony, don't make it harder," she snapped.
"It's not exactly cake for me, either!"
"Don't yell at me, Anthony!"
"I'll yell if I goddamned want to!"
"I'm your mother!"
"You kicked me out of the house!"
Mrs. Higgins sighed. She was a small woman, and never one to yell or punish. That had always been her husband's job. And not once had she ever had to apologize to one of her children. Now that she knew she was supposed to, she didn't know how.
She couldn't help it; she didn't think it was right. How could she? It went against the morals she'd held for her whole life.
But still, a small part of her could tell that this Sean, this Sean she had come to like and almost enjoy to have around, made Race happier than...well, a lot of things.
"Tony..." She shook her head a little. "You're so much like your father, sometimes you scare me."
"I am nothing like that bigot."
"You're stubborn and sarcastic and too smart for your own good, except where common sense is involved. If your father wasn't like that, you'd never have been asked to leave. For that matter, if your father wasn't like that, you probably never would have started cocaine."
"So what's your point?"
"But it takes two, Tony. You and your father--endless rounds of fighting."
"Yeah."
"He can deny it all he chooses, but you are very much his son."
"Not exactly a compliment."
"I love him very much." She swallowed. "I love you very much. You're my son. I don't... understand you, sometimes. About some things."
"I'm gay. It's not that hard to understand."
"It's hard for me, for all of us. But you are my son. And you will always be my son. Regardless of... Things." She looked over at him, and realized how many ways he even looked like his father. "Goodnight, Tony. Things will feel better tomorrow."
"I doubt that."
"Have faith." She glanced past Racetrack, and said as politely as she could, her voice oddly mousy, "Good... Goodnight, Sean."
He turned around to stare at her blankly, and said nothing.
She beat a fast retreat back up the stairs.
Race sighed, and turned to look at Spot. Who wasn't looking at him. He was flipping through one of the many books he'd taken from the book shelf. Not reading, just flipping. As if the feeling of the pages under his thumbs made everything alright.
Race could hardly stand it; he was destroying someone he loved so much. His sisters, his mother, his friends, and Spot.
He choked on every word he tried to say because Race was never good with words. And he wasn't even sure what Spot wanted.
That made it worse.
"Can't even feel anything..." Spot mumbled.
Race gulped. "What did they do? What did they say?"
"Go to bed."
"Spot?"
But he didn't respond that time.
"Spot. Please, just... say something."
Nothing.
"Spot... Sean, come on. I'm fucking scared. I don't know what's going to happen to either one of us and I don't want to lose you. You--you mean so fucking much to me and you're all I've got left and if I lose you I don't know how the hell I'd cope, so please--"
"Tony," Spot said softly. "I said I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not. The fuckers can't get rid of me this easy, okay?"
Race swallowed. "I hate all of this so much..."
"You'll be okay. You've got me and your sisters and... Marco, even. And it sounds like your mom wants to make peace, so hey, you're fine."
"It's not fine." He shuddered. "She told me to get out, too. I'm not going to forget about it just because she's sorry. And she's only sorry because when the media gets here she needs the family to look cheerful and unified and bullshit like that."
Spot shook his head, smiling a little. "Can you hear yourself? God, I know things suck and you're fucked up and all. I know that and I want it all to be better, but don't ever accuse your mom of not loving you because that's fucking ridiculous." Spot picked at the scabs forming on his knuckles. "She was a bitch, yeah, but she's trying. If she wanted you to be 'cheerful and bullshit', I wouldn't be here."
Race stared at him. "I wanna die."
Spot snaked his arm around Race's waist, and pulled him close with that one arm. "Don't. Ever. Say that."
And then he was quiet again. Race sat in his arms, and Spot smelled his hair and it almost felt like everything was how it should be. Race knew his life would never be how it should be, though, and it was hard to pretend that it was.
He pulled away and looked at Spot. Spot looked back at him, looked him in the eyes. Spot's eyes were amazing.
Race slipped his arms around Spot's shoulders and they slipped under the sheets together. Race wondered if this was the first time they'd ever been so close for so long since they'd been together without wanting to jump each other. But Race didn't want that right now. He wanted to be close to Spot. He wanted Spot's strength and courage and he needed Spot's love. And that was different than wanting the sex. He just wanted to be close, which they were now, and it was far more intimate.
Race reached over to turn out the lamp next to the couch-turned-bed, and Spot grabbed his arm. "I'm gonna... Read for awhile, okay?"
"Sure."
Spot found the book he'd been flipping through and Race lay next to him, Spot put a free arm around Race and flipped pages with his other hand, and after awhile Race fell asleep. Spot read for another few minutes, turned out the light, and wrapped his arms around Race.
He didn't sleep, but it was nice to have Race's breathing to listen to, to pass the hours.
"RISE AND SHINE!"
Mush and David both yelped, while Jack and Dutchy smiled fondly down at the hung over pair, who, to be frank, looked like shit.
"Not so loud," Mush whined.
"Sorry, but Dave's been doing this to us for years," Dutchy shrugged. "TIME TO GET UUUUUPPPP--"
No one knew that David could kick so hard.
They did now, and Dutchy was paying for it as he hopped up and down on one foot and started to whimper, clutching his wounded shin. David sat up, and shot Jack such a glare that he retreated and called for Blink to get them up.
Mush was groaning and rubbing his temple while David was in a ferociously awful mood. He wanted to call Race, to see how he was, and to ask about Spot, but he doubted he had the patience to do anything remotely close to talking.
Itey wandered into the room, already dressed for school. It was amazing, because Itey had gotten just as smashed as the rest of them, and yet he had always claimed he wasn't prone to hangovers. But no one had ever seen him drunk enough to know if it was true. But it clearly was.
He wordlessly held out a bottle of Advil, which David fumbled with until he opened, downed two pills without even water, and handed it to Mush. "I'm gonna go home and shower and change," he muttered, and glanced at Mush.
"Shit, I've skipped too many classes..." Mush mumbled. "Fuck, I can't be late. I've gotta go. All gross. This fucking SUCKS." He was still wearing a very rumpled school uniform from the day before, but he didn't look like his usual model-esque self. He looked kind of hellish.
So by the time they both arrived at school (David a period late, Mush barely on time), David looked cleaned up and Mush still looked like he'd gotten totally drunk the night before. But on the other hand, Mush's hangover was abating, and David's wasn't.
Race kind of stared at them, then commented as casually as he could force himself to sound, "You know, I thought I had a bad night..."
David glared. "Shut, the fuck, UP."
Race's eyes popped out of his head as David stormed by him. "Jesus," Race whistled. "What a little bitch."
"Are you okay?..." Mush asked, not listening to Race's comment. "We've been worried sick all night."
"I'll bet."
"It was worried drinking..." Mush tugged on his sleeve. "Are you okay? How's Sophie? And your sisters and Spot?"
"Sophie is my sister too..."
"ANSWER."
"Not here," Race said through clenched teeth.
"Tony, serious, we've all been so fucking worried..."
"Mush, I am serious. I seriously can't talk about anything until I've talked to the lawyers, and I can't do that until this afternoon, so..."
"What about practice? Your gig is--"
"I know," Race answered. "I know, I had a huge fight with my uncle about it and--never mind. He's a dick. But... Yeah. I'm skipping afternoon classes and instead spending four hours with my father's legal team."
"Four... hours...?"
"Yeah. But at least I get to go to rehearsal. And skip chem."
They caught up with David at his locker, angrily searching for the right book for his first class. Finally, David muttered, "I'm never fucking drinking again. How's Spot?"
Race hesitated, than said, "Coping. Better than I would if I was him... Yeah, my family isn't really nice."
"I got that impression."
"But Marco's driving him home and all, so he should be there when we get home this afternoon."
"Jack was having a hernia," David muttered.
"But David made it beeeetter," Mush grinned. "Didn't you, Davey--"
"FUCK OFF."
Mush shut up. Race ran his hands through his hair. The last thing he wanted was to spend time with his fucking 'family'. All he wanted was his friends, his mother, sisters and Spot. They were real family, not this shit the mob called loyalty.
And then Race's thoughts went to his father. He'd avoided thinking about it because really, he didn't want to think of his father in jail. No matter how much he hated his father, the thought of him in an orange suit and behind bars hurt a lot more than Race had expected it to.
"Itey wants to know how Sophie is..." Mush trailed off. "And me too, because we couldn't ask you and now that we know you and Spot are--"
"She's fine," Race sighed. "Well, not fine, but she's pretending she is. Same with Izzy. Maria cries a lot. I hate my life." He swore. "Thanks for reminding me, Tweedle Dum and Dee."
"It's not like you forgot."
The bell rang.
"Fuck, that is fucking loud."
"David, go to the nurse's and lie down..." Mush sighed.
"I've got Econ! I can't! I already missed history..."
"And you can copy mine while I'm copying your chem, which, by the way, I'm getting out of again today. Though I'd kind of rather be there than talking to the lawyers." He shuddered at the thought, because he knew that they would be explaining to him just how much he'd fuck up his father's case, what with being the gay drug addict and all. And he knew just enough about the Mafia that he was going to be a very important witness--because he hated the thought of telling more and more lies even more than he hated the thought of his father in jail. Because his father did kind of deserve it.
Even though his father wasn't really a bad person. He'd always tried to be such a good father...
Except for the homophobia...
But even, then, he'd reacted at what he thought was a serious threat to Race's health and safety...
But he killed people...
But he also had risked his life to save Race's...
"Fuck fuck FUCK I fucking hate EVERYTHING!" Race yelled as the hallways flooded with people between classes, which got him a lot of strange looks. He collapsed against the row of lockers and buried his face in his hand, and mumbled, "I don't even know what to think... I don't even know what's real..."
Mush and David glanced at each other, and finally Mush put a protective arm around Race. "You wanna talk?"
"I CAN'T. I fucking wish I could but I really CAN'T. God fucking DAMN I need to be high right now..."
"Don't be dumb!"
"Tonnyyyyy..."
David and Mush answered at the exact same moment. Race found it heartwarming, really, but more irritating.
"I also really want go hug Maria," Race sulked. "She's all messed up and she's not supposed to be because she's TWELVE."
"Go over there now," Mush suggested.
"Can't. The family wants to kill me as it is. I was given strict orders not to infect her with my perversion."
Race noted now he was getting some slightly scared looks from a few kids in the hall. He was sure not many had made the connection, since his father had had a different name on the news and their pictures hadn't been shown, but some had seen Mr. Higgins at plenty of band concerts.
He was even more of a freak now.
And he had to get used to this.
"I want drums and cocaine and my baby sister," Race mumbled.
"I want a computer made of solid gold but that's just not in the cards, is it?" David snapped. "Chin up, get a smart ass face on, and get out there and fucking deal with it. We're right here with you, so shut up."
Mush observed David with a leering eye. "I like you this way..."
"Oh for Christ's sake!"
"Your cousin thinks he's gay," Mush whispered conspiratorially, because he knew if he could get Race more focused on making fun of David, Race was less likely to have a total meltdown in school. And David would deal with it.
"He IS gay."
"Your cousin?" David asked innocently. "I certainly didn't get that vibe, but his fashion sense--"
He wondered why Race started laughing abruptly, and waited for Race to get a deep breath.
"Uh?" Mush asked.
"So, uh, funny story." Race ran a hand through his hair as they headed off for class. "Last night, Marco decided he actually ought to apologize to me for being a bigot and, you know, an asshole, and Spot and I managed to convince him that Dutchy thinks he's gay and wants to jump him..."
"Dutchy DOES want to jump him."
"I know!" Race giggled. Because the stress made him laugh. Because he either had to laugh or cry or scream, and laughter was the only option that would work in school. "So now Marco is all worried about his sexuality."
"Ooh, ooh, tell him it runs in the family!" Mush exclaimed. "He'd so take it seriously."
"Is that why he's going around accusing other people of being gay?" David asked kind of tartly.
"Shut up, queer." Race grinned, and David punched his shoulder. "Come ooon, be one! It's fun. You get laid."
"No."
"You know you want to."
"Don't."
"Jack whimpered on his shoulder an' everything," Mush informed, and David just decided to try and shut up and take it.
"That's 'cause David's gay."
"I am not!"
...So much for that plan.
They walked to class this way, berating David all the way, which made David think of how great Jack was, and then berate himself.
Race, meanwhile, was trying as hard as he could not to think.
At all.
It wasn't so bad, until they actually got to class. And the teacher just STARED at him. Usually, Race didn't mind Econ; it was sort of interesting, and a lot of reading but not that hard, and the teacher was generally pretty nice. But he just stared at Race as he walked in.
Finally, sort of nervously, he made his way to Race's desk. The other students were giving Race weird looks already, and when the teacher said softly (but not so soft that no one else could hear, and thus the rest of the students all went silent and listened,) "Anthony, ahh... I just wanted to check on you, make sure you're okay."
"Why wouldn't I be okay?" Race answered, all of the tone gone from his voice. He didn't feel like laughing anymore... and he hadn't had such rapid mood swings since he'd been dealing with his addiction and returning to school after rehab. Now he was remembering how much it sucked.
"Well, uh... Your father, and--"
"My father?" Race interrupted. "What, please, go on. ANNOUNCE to everyone that my father just got arrested for having alleged mafia ties and CNN is covering almost nothing but that! Oh oh, and be sure to add that it's less than a week after I got disowned for being gay! OH, and then feel free to remind everyone that I'm also a recovering cocaine addict!" He started cackling; he couldn't help it. He knew Mush and David were exchanging concerned looks. And the teacher looked terrified. "No, serious, go on! It's FUNNY, isn't it, how much my life is SHIT! Look, I'm laughing!" He laughed, to prove his point, then his eyes went wide as his brain caught up with him. "Oh. Shit. I need to not be here right now--"
He took off out of the classroom.
Well, he thought dryly in the back of his mind, so much for dealing with it and not drawing attention to himself.
Spot didn't really talk for most of the day. Which surprised exactly no one. There were no casual conversations, not even to make fun of Jack, and no joking around with Blink in classes. He went to classes and sat in the back and didn't talk to anyone. He didn't even write. He just looked blank.
Gym was the last period of the day, and about the first time anyone heard Spot speak. It was safe for him to attend gym, temporarily; Steve Olsen was now pretending Spot just didn't exist. And even then, the conversation didn't happen until the locker room, when Spot was changing from his grungy, unwashed gym shirt back into his t-shirt, and Blink happened to glance over and see the ring of bruises that covered Spot's waist and ribcage, his whole torso. And he gaped.
"Spot..."
Spot didn't say anything, just pulled his shirt the rest of the way on.
"Spot, what the hell are those?"
"Nothing."
"I know you're still beat up from the fight, but those bruises were... NOT from a fight in a parking lot. And they were FRESH."
"They're NOTHING."
"Spot--"
"Blink, drop it."
Blink shook his head. "If Tony's family is--doing that to you, I can't drop it. They can't do that."
"Drop. It."
"You can't go back there, Spot. Not if--"
"It's fucking NOTHING and I'll go back if Tony needs me, and I don't give a damn about anything else." He started to stomp away, and Blink hurried to catch up with him.
"But--"
"No."
"I'm gonna tell Jack and Denise--"
"The hell you are!" Spot turned to glare at him. "You can't; you can't say a fucking WORD to ANYONE."
"But--"
"Blink. Ryan. This is serious shit and I'm really okay, but if you talk to ANYONE, I won't be. And Tony won't be. I'm fucking SERIOUS."
Blink stared at the ground for a second, then shrugged. "Okay. But--"
"No buts; promise me. Swear to god you won't tell anyone."
Blink swallowed hard. "I just want to say, for the record, that you ought to report those fuckers and bring them up on charges, and that you know Denise would help you do it."
"No."
Blink shrugged. "But if you don't want to, I, uh... I won't tell anyone. Swear to god."
"Okay." Spot started walking again.
"But you still shouldn't go back there."
"Drop it."
Blink didn't say anything for awhile after that, either.
Jack was looking more like a hurt puppy as the day went on. His brother was ignoring him completely. Spot didn't even make fun of his flannel shirt, which was particularly ugly today.
Spot just walked away from his locker after the last bell rang, heading outside, not waiting to grab a ride with anyone else. Jack swore and followed him, knowing Blink was worried. Blink had just said he was worried, while they'd been at their lockers...
He followed Spot all the way down the hall, Spot not saying a word as he went to his locker, grabbed his binder and jacket, and slammed it shut while he turned to face Jack.
"Don't follow me."
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere."
"Where's that?"
Spot growled. "Fuck off."
"Hey..." Jack's face adopted a hurt expression, and he swallowed hard before talking. "Look, I'm reaalllyyy worried about you and you haven't said one word to me, you fucker. That kind of HURTS."
Spot bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at his sneakers. They were falling apart.
"It's not you. Fuck off, I'll talk to you later."
"You talked to BLINK--"
Spot's head snapped up. "He told you?"
"No..." Jack shook his head. "He said he talked to you, but he wouldn't tell me any of the conversation. And besides, I wanted to talk to you myself. Listen, this whole Tony thing--"
"This whole TONY thing happens to be my thing. I'll see you later, go fuck David or something."
Spot turned on his heel to leave, but Jack grabbed the back of his shirt, and whirled him around.
And hugged him.
Now Spot was REALLY pissed.
"For fuck's sake, let me fucking go!" he snarled. "JACK!"
Jack pulled away wordlessly. "I'll talk to you tonight."
"How about you go to HELL."
"Be safe."
"FUCK YOU!"
And Jack just walked off. Calmly. Probably the only calm thing Jack had ever done in his life.
Spot swore furiously under his breath and stormed outside, glancing around, waiting for Marco to pick him up.
He was supposed to see the 'family' again today. Something about being a fucking witness. He didn't want anything to do with them after what they had...
He wanted Race really badly.
And he grudgingly admitted that at least Jack wasn't being a fucker. Spot touched his stomach, and marveled slightly at the inward curve. He hadn't eaten for two days.
He wasn't hungry. Just fucked up.
But Race was more fucked up and Spot planned on being there for him and sucking up his own pain. He didn't care how hard it would be. Race needed him. That was what mattered.
Marco pulled up in front of the school just as the rest of Spot's friends were walking out, and they all saw him wordlessly climb into the passenger's seat.
"You okay?" Marco asked, as he pulled out.
"I'm fucking FANTASTIC."
"That's what I figured." Marco handed him a CD to put on. "Tony said you'd like this."
It was Race's Sloan mix, Spot discovered, and he listened to the music and ignored Marco. Which didn't stop Marco from talking to him, but Spot just tuned him out and watched as the scenery changed as they got closer to downtown. And finally, Marco parked in an upscale and ridiculously expensive parking garage, and they walked a block to a ritzy office building, which contained the law firm which was now almost totally focused on proving definitively that Paulo Higgins had nothing whatsoever to do with the Mafia.
Marco led him to a waiting room, and they waited. And finally, the door to the adjacent office opened, and Race walked out.
Race looked absolutely awful.
Spot stepped forward, but Marco grabbed the back of his shirt. "Not here."
"Fuck you."
"No..." Marco mumbled. "I'm serious. If you two act that way around here, you're both screwed."
Spot swore and Race's face positively fell. If Race cried, which he hadn't since the night of Dutchy's OD, Spot was sure Race would be bawling now.
Instead, he just looked worn down and tired and Spot elbowed Marco sharply in the side as he came up next to Race. He took his wrist, refraining from holding him in his arms, and mumbled "You doing okay?"
Race shook his head. "God...I hate myself."
"Shut up."
"I do."
"Shut up, okay?" Spot glanced back at Marco, who was watching, and mouthed out 'fuck you'. Marco looked hurt. Spot rolled his eyes and turned back to Race. "I love you. So you'll be fine. I rock."
Race smiled a little. "You okay?"
"Who cares?"
"Me."
"Shut up. Look like a smart ass."
Race raised an eyebrow. "David told me that too."
"And what does that tell you?"
"That I look like a smart ass?"
"You guys..." Marco said, quickly coming over to them. "We have to get official, okay? If you act all... Romeo and...Juli...o..." Marco made a face. "Anyway, if you act like that, you'll get your ass kicked and that isn't good."
"Like you care," Spot snorted.
"I do."
There was a silence, and finally Marco pulled them slightly away from the other. "We're going in. Spot, fix your hair."
"Fix your face."
"Oo-kay!"
Marco didn't smack Spot, though he had the urge to. He just gave Race a pained look. "You have weird tastes, cuz," he muttered, then to Spot, "Seriously; behave yourself. The lawyers are kinda brutal. Just cooperate and..."
"And what?" Spot snapped. "What they hell are they going to do, beat the shit out of me? OH, WAIT. Your DAD did that."
Marco bit his lip; he clearly had something to say about that, but didn't. Instead, he gestured towards the office again, followed Spot in, and closed the door.
Race sat on the leather couch for a few minutes.
It was less comfortable than his shrink's leather couch, which was where he'd spent the morning, after he'd run out of class. And, according to his therapist, he was having a full on nervous collapse.
Except that he couldn't afford to have a nervous collapse.
He got up and found a candy machine, bought himself four bags of skittles, and had eaten three and a half of them by the time Spot and Marco emerged from the office. Spot hadn't been kept nearly as long as Race had, and instead of beaten down and exhausted, Spot looked just plain angry, but more alive than he had before.
Right, Race reminded himself. Spot liked a good fight, and he lived to bait people. Yeah; he'd love the legal team...
Spot looked at the Skittles wrappers, and Race checked the clock. It was almost four. It would be quarter of five before they got back to Blink's and could even start rehearsing. He had to be home by eight thirty.
There was no way they'd be prepared to play on Sunday, he realized. But he had to hope for it, because his shrink had spent forever talking about the importance of striving to reach goals and focusing on them, instead of on all the shit going on in his life. Even if it hadn't been phrased quite like that.
He looked up again, and saw Spot was making rude motions with his tongue.
Race grinned half-heartedly and winked back before Marco smacked the both of them. Race went back to worrying about the band and anything besides this. But Spot looked particularly gorgeous when he was energized and mad.
Race really wanted a frustration fuck.
He was sure that wasn't healthy.
Marco sat down on the couch, pulling Spot down on his other side. "Alright, soon as Dad says, we're gone and you're free to go to your band practice."
"Thanks for the permission."
"I've had enough out of you--"
"Spot, please," Race piped up. Spot made faces at both of them and went to work picking at his knuckles. Marco made a disgusted face and yanked away the Skittle in Race's hand.
Race glared.
Marco looked apologetic, but the Skittle was already in his mouth and he wasn't about to offer it back. He tried to think of conversation. He wanted to Race to look up to him again, for Spot to like him again. But things didn't seem to be going his way.
Finally, he mumbled, "For what it's worth, I'm trying my hardest. Just... Keep in mind that in the last four days I've had to try and totally change everything I've believed for the past twenty-seven years, and four days is kind of a short time to do that in."
"Next think you know, we'll be telling you Jesus didn't even die for your sins," Spot snapped.
"SEAN--"
Mercifully, Marco's phone went off and after a very brief conversation in Italian, he hung up and pocketed it again. Then groaned. "You two are not going to like this."
"...What?"
"I swear to god, this wasn't my fault."
"What?" Race snapped again.
"I get to be your babysitter this afternoon."
"Fuck you--"
"Hey, HEY. Not exactly my idea of a good time, either. But on the upside, Dad's home now and has no plans to go back to your place, so at least you don't have to deal with him." Marco shrugged.
"Why the hell do I need a babysitter?" Race muttered angrily, as they started out of the office.
"Because your mom doesn't want to leave you alone when you're, you know, having a nervous breakdown."
"Fuck you."
"It's not entirely a bad thought, cuz. You're not gonna convince me you're not having a craving the size of Texas right now..."
"Fuck YOU."
"...And not even Sean can blame me for wanting to keep you away from that shit."
Spot snorted, and Race said nothing, and Marco gave up. This really was not going to go his way. No matter how hard he tried, he realized, he would probably never be able to make up for getting Spot and Race caught in the first place.
Despite his efforts, they didn't talk to him too much. And by the time they were in the car they ignored him and simply cuddled up in back seat, though Spot did send a few rude gestures his way once in awhile. Marco really hoped he wasn't about to be bombarded by a bunch of boys who hated him.
He was reminded of Sophia refusing to come out of her room that morning. For all he knew, she was still there. Maria had gone to school alone.
Did everyone hate him?
He stopped just outside of Blink's garage (after a brief stop at a gas station to pick up more Skittles), and Race and Spot were out faster than he could breathe. He sighed and slowly followed. Suddenly, he felt like he was forty years old.
It occurred to him he didn't want to do this for the rest of his life, but he quickly pushed the thoughts away.
Spot and Race hurried inside and began chatting in a huddle with the boys, no doubt answering whatever they could, but Marco noticed Sophia's boyfriend, standing slightly alone once he saw the pair were alive and well and not quite ready to talk.
He looked quite miserable as well.
Race made eye contact with Marco and narrowed his eyes again.
"I wanna diieeeee..." Marco said under his breath.
He chose himself a spot on the wall, where he simply stood, as unobtrusively as possible. He was attempting to be professional and adult about this whole thing; the fact of the matter was that Angelina probably didn't even know about her son's nervous breakdown yet. The babysitting assignment had come from his father, and was actually an official job.
But damned if he'd let anyone else know about it.
"You... okay?" David asked Race carefully.
"Functioning at the moment. But that changes quickly, so..." He trailed off. "I fucking need to play something. Let's just practice. I don't want to talk."
"Hey," Jack said from the couch, a bottle of root beer in hand because they'd actually managed to decimate all of Blink's actual beer the night before. "You owe us an explanation. What the hell is going on?"
Race hesitated, then said, "My dad was arrested on mafia related charges; my family is full of assholes. I'm having a nervous breakdown. What the hell do you want to know?"
"Is it true?"
"That I'm having a breakdown? Yeah; I've got a note from my shrink and everything."
"About your dad."
And Race said the phrase he'd been told to say, exactly as he'd been coached to. They'd drilled him for tone of voice and everything. He shrugged and commented, "I wouldn't know anything about that."
"Yeah, you would," Jack pressed.
"I really wouldn't."
People's gazes were starting to slip back to Marco on his slice of the wall, but he didn't say anything, and Spot said, "Just lay off it, Jack. He doesn't want to talk."
"You're BOTH impossible," Jack muttered.
Race walked over to the drumset. "Serious, I need to play. We need to be ready for Sunday."
Which got Blink going into his stressed out, lead singer mode, and since Dutchy and Itey were already tuned, they were able to start without any more real discussion.
And, Marco was shocked to discover, they were good. But he couldn't decide if he should say so or not.
He considered each of the band members in turn. Race he already knew by heart; all the details of how he looked and what kind of mood he was in. There was no mystery there, as Race's playing was so painfully emotional that Marco felt how fucked up his cousin was.
Itey looked nice enough. His face was a twisted mess of concentration on his bass mixed with concern for his friends and his girlfriend, and he was pretty clearly depressed.
Blink was harder to read. Blink's singing just sounded... Right. It sounded like he'd been singing like this his entire life, not like it reflected what he was thinking or feeling. And the look on his face certainly didn't. He had the rock star look down pat.
But he was really startled to discover himself gazing at Dutchy. He wasn't an expert on male beauty; he'd never thought about it particularly. But he realized that, in a skinny, grunge rock kind of way, Dutchy was actually hot. The ripped jeans guitar player thing just worked for him.
And the Marco realized what he was thinking and tried not to freak out.
But mostly, he realized, the band sounded good.
And when they were done, he opened his mouth to say something, but Race cut him off. "One word," he snapped. "You're on our turf now."
He didn't like the look on Spot's face as Race said that...
"So just butt out." Race did a drum roll, and gave hit the cymbal. Hard.
"I was just going to say you were good," Marco said timidly.
"Yay," Jack and Spot said in monotone, simultaneous voice. They looked at each other and grinned. "Niiiiice."
"He's just trying to be nice," Dutchy said in a dazed kind of voice.
"Keep it in your pants," David snapped, without looking up from the homework he was working furiously on. Marco pretended very hard not to hear that.
"Shut up, everyone," Blink snapped loudly. "Okay, we're gonna give Beetlebum a try and being, you know, GOOD. Itey, play louder."
"Sorry..."
Dutchy winced with worry, but didn't get a chance to say anything because of Blink's rabid insanity.
As Dutchy was about to strike the opening riff, Jessica walked into the garage.
So his hand kind of dropped and out came a horrible out of key sound.
And a string snapped.
"Guitar ejaculation," Spot and Jack said at the same time, then looked at each other, amazed. "Nice!"
Jessica kind of grinned a little. "Hey..."
"What is she doing here--"
"Shut up, Blink, honey," Mush said sleepily from the couch. "Hello, Jessica."
"Hey," Spot gave her a nod, which made her smile too, and then she looked at Dutchy.
"Your...guitar..."
"Ughwa..." Dutchy dove into his case. "I need another G-string. I mean, uh...that is...not a G-STRING, But...uhm." Everyone was snickering, but Marco slicked his hair back and smiled.
"Who's this?" he asked. Jessica turned a little red and giggled.
Dutchy's head snapped up. "Babysit like you're told!"
"You have a babysitter?" Jessica repeated.
"No! We don't!" Dutchy's face turned red.
Marco interrupted smoothly, giving Jessica his best smile (which was really awfully damn good). "My cousin's letting me tag along for the afternoon." He held out his hand. "Marco Constantine. And you are?"
She blushed a little and shook his hand. "Jessica... Craig."
"Nice to meet you, Jessica."
Race gave Marco a vaguely confused look. Marco was hot, he supposed, but... Charming? Because Jessica was definitely acting like he was charming. But that didn't quite fit in with his image of Marco as a vaguely incompetent klutz who tripped over his own feet and basically did nothing but eat leftovers. But, he supposed, Marco was probably feeling the need to assert his heterosexuality to anyone who might be questioning it.
Himself included.
That was kind of amusing, though not quite as amusing as the look on Dutchy's face when Jessica smiled at Marco. Or really, not even as amusing as the utterly confused look Marco then gave Race, upon seeing the look Dutchy was giving him. And Race remembered that while he'd definitely told Marco that Dutchy liked boys, he'd neglected to mention that Dutchy also liked girls.
Well, Marco would figure it out, and probably make an ass of himself in the process. And that would definitely be amusing to watch.
"We were just, uh, that is... Well, we've got the thing on Sunday and we're... uh..."
"Practicing," Blink finished for him.
She nodded. "I figured. I just wanted to drop by and say hi and all." She smiled at Dutchy a little bit, and Dutchy looked like a deer caught in headlights and finally gave her the most awkward, forced smile she had ever seen. "Good luck with your G-string."
Dutchy actually whimpered, then set down his guitar and began to search for the spare strings in its case. He knew he had them there somewhere, and the search at least meant he didn't have to look at Jessica for awhile.
"You live too far away?" Marco asked. Jessica smiled, knowing full well she was being flirted with, and shrugged.
"I have a car."
"I'll walk you outs--"
"Go walk your MOM!" Dutchy snapped. "Jesus, you're stupider than TONY is!"
Jack, David, Mush and Blink all burst out laughing, while Spot grudgingly joined in. Even Itey grinned a little.
Marco looked open mouthed at Dutchy. "What's that mean?"
Dutchy sighed, and with a courage he didn't know he had, walked towards Jessica. "I'LL walk you to your car."
And he took her wrist and dragged her outside.
Marco blinked, and then looked helplessly at Race. "What?..."
"I didn't get that too much either..." Race's brow furrowed in concentration. "Why am I stupid? What'd I do?"
"Oh god, you're an idiot," Spot supplied.
"Dutchy likes girls too," Mush said civilly.
Silence.
"Ooooohhhh."
"Yeah, Marco Polo."
"But..." Race asked. "What did I do?"
"Nevermind..." David trailed off while snickers cascaded through the room.
Outside, Jessica glanced at her car, then at Dutchy. "I was just dropping by, but I thought I might stay and... Who was that? Tony's cousin?"
"No one. Just, uh... Yeah, Tony's cousin."
"He's cute."
Dutchy let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like "meep!" and he stared down at the ground. "So... uh... Yeah..." he mumbled.
"Yeah?" she asked. "Yeah... What? You think he's cute too?"
"He ain't bad." Dutchy shrugged. "Just... Ya know, I'm... Thinking more about girls and... Shit, don't mind me. You don't care."
She laughed a little and patted his shoulder. "I should get going; I've got work tonight..."
"Uh... where do you... uh..."
"At the mall A&W. Hey, come in some time when I'm at work and I'll score you free food."
He sort of smiled. "Yeah I might... Do that..."
"Cool. Well I should..."
"Yeah..."
"Good luck with rehearsing."
"Thanks..."
"Give Marco my number." She grinned.
Dutchy winced a little. "Yeah... Sure..."
But they both knew there was no way in hell he was going to do that. She patted his arm again and let herself into her car, and as soon as he stepped back into the garage, everyone was staring at him and giggling, except Marco, who just looked kind of confused.
"She's cute," Marco supplied, hoping to redeem himself.
Dutchy shot him a look. "I know. I wanna play, I'm turned on now. Playing helps the lack of jerking."
"Oh GOD," Blink blanched. "I hate you so much."
"Sing."
"Beetlebum," Blink turned to Itey. "Wake up, you."
"Awake."
Dutchy's fingers were quivering, and without saying anything, Race tossed him a packet of skittles from his pocket. "I saved a pack for you," and he winked.
Dutchy looked as if he was about to explode, really. Then he cleared his throat, and started his guitar riff.
It was at that moment, for one odd second, something happened.
The music completely blended.
Everyone heard it. Even Marco. The drums and the guitar and the bass and the singing all combined perfectly and it sounded...
Amazing.
Spirits lifted slightly. Music was like that.
Marco relaxed against the wall again, glad that at least no one was paying attention to him, since he clearly was never going to be popular in this garage. And Race was right; this was their territory, and he shouldn't intrude on it. Besides, Race getting to hang out with his friends would likely calm him down and keep him from losing his mind again. Because their territory was totally safe and normal, and probably the only place where Race's life felt equally safe and normal.
Marco was determined not to let that get screwed up for him. But that choice was taken out of his hands.
A slick black car screeched to a halt outside as the song ended; two men stepped out. Marco noticed them before the band, and he went from relaxed to tense in under a second. He vaguely recognized the two, as they approached the garage, and they weren't friendly.
Someone had sent them to do something, likely to intimidate Racetrack.
Marco muttered a curse word under his breath, and slowly everyone else noticed the approaching figures, and the band fell silent. Everyone just stared.
"Friends of yours?" David finally asked.
Race shook his head no, and glanced at Marco.
Marco's facial expression was now totally cold and blank.
Race stood up from the set, looking worried. "Marco, what--"
"Shut up."
"But--"
"Be quiet, Racetrack."
Race fell silent, the use of his nickname clearly indicating what this about and just how much he and the others had to keep their mouths shut. Jack didn't look as if he was about to oblige, and in a second, David was next to him, bluntly stuffing marshmallows (carefully stacked around the garage for Race and Dutchy's urges) into Jack's mouth.
Jack made a gurgling sound, and David muttered, "Shut it, Jacky."
Marco stepped forward, suddenly seeming a lot taller and scarier and not a lot like Marco.
"Yeah?" he asked.
The first man, tall and thin, spoke some rapid phrases in Italian. Race paled a little, but no one dared ask for translation.
Marco just raised and eyebrow, unphazed. "I'd appreciate it if you two would leave," he said calmly.
"Yeah, Constantine, I'll bet you would." One of the men smirked. "Still running errands for your daddy?"
"At least I'm not trying to intimidate a bunch of kids, Giovanni. I asked politely once; now I'm telling you to get out."
"Yeah, I don't think so." The man--apparently named Giovanni--stepped forward like he was going to walk around Marco, only to have Marco pointedly step in his way. He started to move again, but Marco grabbed his arm and yanked and shoved and it was kind of hard to tell exactly what he did, but he ended up twisting the arm pretty hard up behind Giovanni's back, and it looked not too far from snapping painfully.
Marco glanced over his shoulder at the group in the garage. "Would you all go into the house, please?" he requested, his voice so calm it was frightening.
Giovanni twisted out of his grip and backed off a step. Marco glanced back again. "Now, please. Racetrack."
Race gave him a slightly panicked look, and abandoned his drumset to head for the door in to the kitchen. Everyone followed him as soon as he started to move.
Once inside, Race had a look on his face much like a child who had done something so bad that the guilt was rotting away his insides.
"Oh shit..." Race gulped. "Like, the last thing I said to Marco was like, shut up."
"He won't die," Spot said confidently, hiding his own worry. "Jesus, settle down, okay? You're fucking going to explode."
"I can't settle!"
"You are."
Jack was about ready to be sick; he hadn't quite worked down the marshmallows yet, and once he finally swallowed, he gagged and ran for the washroom. Everyone else wordlessly just followed Blink into the living room. David sighed and followed Jack off to the washroom.
Blink and Mush were in each other's arms on the loveseat, and while Spot and Race weren't exactly cuddling, Spot put a comforting hand on Race's.
Dutchy settled on the floor, and pulled Itey down with him. Itey looked at Race. "Is he going to be alright?"
"I don't know..."
Itey bit his lip. "Do you want to like, take a nap?"
"Sleep not possible!"
"Jesus..." Dutchy winced at Race. "How much more can a guy take--"
"Shut up!" Spot snapped, and kicked Dutchy roughly in the back.
"Fuck," Race mumbled, and pulled his knees up to his chest (getting his shoes on the couch, which wasn't really a problem at Blink's house) and buried his face in his knees. "It's all so fucked up..."
"Tony..."
"It's so fucked up and it's all my fucking fault and now people are here bothering all of YOU and I need a fucking babysitter and oh Jesus fucking Christ I just want to die..."
Spot squeezed his hand sharply. "DON'T talk like that. EVER."
"I fucking do, I don't deserve--I fucking shouldn't have come here, you guys don't need my fucking problems and--"
"Shut up," Blink interrupted. "Because we want you here and we want you in the band and you're our FRIEND so don't even think that."
There was a very loud crash from the garage, and everyone tensed.
"There's a fucking MAFIA SHOWDOWN going on in your fucking GARAGE and you think I'll believe that you don't CARE!"
"Actually, that's kind of cool," Dutchy put in. "I mean... Man, your cousin is hot."
"And that's another thing!" Race yelled, looking up from his knees. "MARCO suddenly being all fucking..."
"Competent?" Spot suggested.
"Yes, that!"
"I do that sometimes."
And everyone in the room jerked their heads around to see Marco in the doorway, a bruise forming on the side of his face and neck, and a trickle of blood running down from a cut on his lip. His knuckles were awfully bloodied up too, but somehow he didn't have a single hair out of place.
"Marco, Jesus, are--"
"Fine, Fante. I'm fine. I'm gonna clean up, then..." He sighed. "Talk to all of you. Don't go anywhere, okay?"
Everyone nodded a little bit, and Marco walked back into the kitchen.
"Well," Mush commented, "that didn't take him very long."
"I want everyone," Dutchy supplied.
"You Higgins people..." Itey elbowed Race's leg. "You're all amazing."
"Biased," Blink said.
Itey shook his head. "No, I mean, I am, but...you are."
"If it were MY family, they'd all be like, gone. Oh wait, they are." Dutchy smiled at him. "Seriously, at least you know you're loved."
Race looked pissed off for a moment, feeling as if he was being preached at.
They had a point though.
That just made it hurt more. Jack had been right; he brought trouble wherever he went. And he still wanted to die.
He didn't talk, he just let out a choked kind of sound and buried his head in Spot's shoulder.
At that moment, Jack and David were back, Jack looking slightly nauseated, and David just turned to Race and sighed.
"Tony?"
"Mm.." Race answered from Spot's slight embrace.
"I'm going to do your chem homework."
Race looked up. He was silent, and then he beamed. "I love you."
"Yeah, well, you're doing my History... Right?"
"Already done; in my bag." Race shrugged. "Just copy it in your own writing."
"When did you do that? You weren't even in class."
"I was waiting for the lawyers..." Race groaned. "I fucking HATE lawyers." He buried his head in Spot's shoulder again. "I hate lawyers and therapists and my father and my uncle and my teachers and almost everyone else I've ever met and, yeah, MYSELF."
Spot wanted to yell at him for talking like that, but sort of understood. Certainly better than anyone else did. So he just put his arm back around Race.
No one said anything for a little while, until Marco walked back in. The bleeding had stopped, but a blood stained gauze was wrapped around his knuckles on his right hand, and the bruise on his face was a little bit more formed. He looked remarkably angry.
"So let's get started," he said, walking into the room and leaning against the wall. "First thing is, if I say I can't talk about something, I can't and don't ask me to. And if I say I don't know something, I don't. Got that?"
Everyone nodded, except Race, who hadn't moved off of Spot's shoulder yet.
"Tony?"
"I got it..." but he still didn't move. Marco sighed, and looked at Blink.
"I want food. Can I?"
"Uuuh..." Blink gulped. "You can have the HOUSE if you want it."
Marco grinned. "I'm strong."
"Yeah..." Dutchy trailed off.
Marco ignored him. "Listen, when I'm serious, you all have to listen up and not hate me. I'm going to eat and come back. And uh, you?" Marco looked at David. "Wow, sitting by him while he pukes? You two are gonna last."
And he left the room as Jack let out a frustrated yell of, "We're not GAY!"
Spot snorted. "You so are."
"Hey. I sat with Tony when he puked, too."
"Because everyone loves Tony," Mush said cheerfully. "So really... You're gay and a slut."
"He is not!" Jack yelled.
"And the jealous boyfriend comes to his defense," Blink added.
They were doing it to try and get Race to stop staring so intently at the floor and maybe smile (or at least, everyone but Jack and David was) but it didn't work.
The thing that finally made Race smile was when Marco yelled, "OW, FUCK!" in the kitchen.
"Should someone check on that?" Itey asked.
Race glanced towards the door, then shrugged. "You okay?" he called.
"Fucking BURNT MYSELF. Where's the damn ice?"
"Uh... In the freezer," Race answered.
"Screw you, cuz!"
And a minute later, Marco returned, holding a bowl of Ramen noodles. Everyone kind of stared at him.
"You... burnt yourself making Ramen?" Race finally asked.
"Shut up."
"Marco, that's just sad."
"Shut up. We can't all be talented cooks."
"But... Ramen..."
Marco rolled his eyes, then slurped up a noodle, making an amazingly gross sound. Dutchy pouted a little. It was kind of sad that someone so hot and strong was also gross and incompetent.
Unfortunately, he found himself musing aloud, "You know... Those two combined," he gestured to Marco and Race, "would be, like, the sexiest thing ever."
Spot kicked him again. "Would you get yourself a fucking muzzle?"
Marco made a grossed out face and chose to sit next to Itey. "You're straight," he said.
Itey nodded a little, but didn't say much. Marco shrugged and went back to his Ramen, slurping and slurping and Mush looked so appalled he finally spoke.
"Ugh, CLASS is an important factor."
"Sorry, he has none," Race answered.
Marco never responded much when he was busy eating. Spot kept shoving Dutchy with his foot while Jack was being quite an ass indeed and slightly ignoring David.
"Are they gonna leave Tony alone?" Mush asked Marco.
Marco, though he didn't say anything with the amount of noodle slurping going on, nodded his head. "Struck a deal," he finally said with his mouth full.
"What kind?"
Marco didn't respond and Mush pouted. He hated lack of information.
Marco finally finished his soup, and set the bowl down. "So..." he sighed. Everyone waited expectantly. He cleared his throat. "So, yeah. About what just happened there. The thing is, my family is... Well, my dad works for a personal security company, and since all of the craziness with his dad," he jerked his thumb towards Race, "we figured something like that might happen. So he's kind of been made my client, because yeah, I'm a bit pathetic and was only able to get a job working for my dad after college."
"That's not what you told me," Race snapped.
"I know. I lied to you, Tony; I do that sometimes." Marco shrugged nonchalantly. "Honestly, I wanted to keep things as normal as possible and somehow announcing, 'yeah, we think someone is gonna come looking for you, so I'm your new bodyguard,' seemed like it might make that nervous breakdown of yours worse. So I did lie, and I'm sorry about that, but it was my attempt at doing the best thing possible."
Race stared at him for a second, then shrugged. "Whatever."
"Wait..." David paused. "Your dad works for a security company?"
"Yep."
"...As opposed to, say, the mob?"
"Yep."
"Riiiiight."
"You wanna see our books, kid? It's all legit."
"Well, it would be." David rolled his eyes. "So you're not in the mob--apparently--but those guys?"
"I wouldn't know anything about them."
"You knew them by name."
Marco shot a look at Race. "Is he always like that?"
"Smart? Yeah, he sucks."
"Well," Marco turned to David. "Can it."
"YOU can it," Jack said. Then turned red and looked at David. "You hear me? You can it."
David glared.
Marco rubbed his hands together a little. "Things might be crazy for awhile, but I got your backs, alright? Things'll be fine...any questions?"
No one said much, but Itey finally glanced up, a little red.
"I miss Sophie."
Then he turned redder and ducked his head. He really hadn't meant to say that. 'Can I call Sophia please, Mr. Marco, sir?' had been the original plan and sure hadn't been what he said.
Marco cleared his throat.
"Uh...alright."
Spot rolled his eyes. "Fuck me, your family is stupid." He looked at Race. "Including you, sexy bitch."
"Thanks."
"Yeah," Spot shrugged. "So, Marco, can he talk to Sophia?"
"Me too!" Mush announced.
"Me three--"
"Shut up, Jack."
Itey was fiddling with the frays at the bottom of his jeans, and finally Marco sighed.
"The little Mexican can."
Itey smiled at him. "Really?"
Marco reached into his pocket and handed Itey his cellphone. "Mine will get through; yours won't. Here. She's speed number six."
"Six?"
"Yeah. My dad, Tony's dad, Tony's mom, Izzy, Tony, Sophia. You'll never guess who's seventh."
Itey nodded a little and held down the six key until it started dialing, and a moment later Sophia picked up. "I'm still pissed at you, fucker," she snapped.
"Uh... It's me."
Pause. "Gabe?"
"Yeah."
"On... Marco's phone?"
"Yeah."
"What the hell?"
"It's... really complicated and bizarre and--are you all right?"
"I hate my life."
"Do you need me there?"
He could almost hear her smile. "That would be nice. But probably a bad idea, Gabe. Things here are insane."
"Spot's been there..."
"And it hasn't been fun. Is Tony okay?"
"Yeah, fine. Well. Mostly."
"I'll talk to him tonight..." She sighed. "Are you okay?"
"Just worried about you."
"You're so sweet."
"You're so sweet."
"You're sweeter."
"No, you're sweeter."
"You."
"You."
"You two are disgusting," Spot commented.
Itey was about to stand to leave, but Marco shook his head. "Hurry it up."
Itey reddened and spoke softer. "Uh...I really need to see you."
"...really?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
She was being coy and Itey really wished Blink didn't have such a knack for making every situation seem dirty.
"He's frustraaateed."
"SHUT UP," Marco and Race snapped.
"Listen, I can't go by another day without...uh..." They were all looking at him again. Marco was motioning at him to hurry it up. "You'rewonderfulMarcoismakingmegobye."
"Fuck him!"
"I really--"
"Listen, I'm seeing you tonight."
"How!"
"Somehow. Don't tell anyone."
"Okay..."
"...Gabe?"
"Yeah?"
"I really need to see you too."
Itey smiled and Marco smacked his shoulder. "I gotta go."
"I'll call you."
Then she hung up and Itey was smiling again.
Spot turned to Race, linking his hand in his. "I won't ever talk like an idiot to you."
"Yeah, 'cause you look like one." Race stuck out his tongue and Spot smacked his head.
Dutchy was almost done with his skittles; he'd prolonged their existence. He emptied half and held his hand out to Race. "Have some."
Race nodded his thanks and stuffed some in his mouth. Marco sighed and checked his watch.
"You kids get back to the band thing. It should be fine."
"It better be..." Blink said. "I'm so sick and tired of people fucking around with my band and making them all depressed."
"You're sweet, really..." Dutchy said tonelessly.
"FUCK yeah I am."
"Tony," Marco murmured, as everyone filed back towards the garage, reaching out to catch his arm. "Don't blame yourself, okay, cuz?"
"It's my fault."
"Nah." Marco switched into Italian. "They were trying to force witnesses and if Sophie or Maria had been with friends, woulda done it there, too."
"'Cause that makes me feel BETTER."
"It's not your fault, though. Okay?"
"Whatever."
"Fante, believe me. It's not." He paused, then said casually in English, "Remind me to tell you later about how my dad got kicked out of your house."
There was a pause, and Race and Spot both stared at him, and everyone else realized that must have been a big deal.
"WHAT?" Race finally demanded.
Marco grinned. "Your mom loves you, cuz. And, uh, my dad kind of... Is an asshole."
"No kidding," Spot muttered.
"So he was spouting off his bullshit about... well, you two, she told him to either shut the hell up about her son or get out of her house. He thought she was joking."
"And?"
Marco's grin grew even wider. "I love my dad and all, but I laughed my ass off, seriously. She grabbed him by his freaking ear and dragged him to the door."
Race stared for a second. Then smiled. "He's an asshole."
"Yeah, he is."
"But you're kind of okay."
"Thanks." Marco gave him a genuine smile, and felt a little relieved. "Yeah; thanks, Fante. Go play your drums now."
Race had to smile. Marco was more then alright, it would just...take him some time to remember.
So Race grabbed Spot's hand and they both went back into the garage, where Blink was barking orders and Mush was giving him adoring looks of slight frustration (Blink was much too loud sometimes) while David and Jack seemed to be having a silent fight.
Spot kissed Race's neck slightly and then went to sit in between David and Jack on the couch. "Spring IS the season of love, eh?"
Jack punched him.
Race grinned a little again and he and Itey shared looks of relief because Sophia sounded...normal? Happy? Whichever it was, Race was never more happy that Sophia and Itey had found each other, really.
"Tony?" Dutchy mumbled quietly as Itey quickly strummed House of the Rising Sun on his bass, Blink clearing his throat and doing his singer preparation thing. "Tony uh...I just wanted you to know..."
Race waited, and Dutchy said nothing. "Yeah, what?"
Dutchy ran a hand through his hair. "I uh...I was wondering if the reason I got out so easy was because of--"
"Don't ask."
"But is it?"
Race didn't say anything. Dutchy took that as a yes. He smiled. "I really think you're a...trooper."
Race snorted. "Trooper?"
"I'm shutting up now. Go to the drums."
And Dutchy ignored him to strum along with Itey on his guitar. Race shrugged and as soon as he sat down, holding the drumsticks in his hands, he felt almost better. Drums did that for him.
He pounded out a fill, and didn't think.
Funkie: Well, I'M off for a university audition which I'll have had by the time this is posted I think, so my mind is SOME. WHERE. ELSE.
B: I graduate in, uh, a month and a half. Eep.
F: Grown up!
B: Am not!
F: Okay okay...you better still love newsies.
B: ...
F: Who am I kidding?
B: Newsies isn't a childhood thing, it's a way of life.
F: Amen.
We celebrate this chapter with Big Red gum because chewing it makes Funkie less nervous.