Chapter 3
Disclaimer: Same as the last two chapters. I do not own the Fosters.
Connor's POV:
"How is he?" Lena asked me as I limped along side of her through the halls of Anchor Beach. It was lunch time on my first day back at school, the beginning of eighth grade, and Lena had intercepted me to talk about Jude. It was also the first day since I was shot that I could walk without those thrice damned crutches.
Three months since Jesus died.
I looked at her, and heaved a sigh.
"He's healing." I tell her simply, "I think he's just glad to be back to a routine. His tempers a bit sharper, he's extremely sassy now, he writes his own poetry, he likes tinkering around with my dad's old drum kit, and he listens to some violent music, but other than that he's slowly going back to normal. He even started wearing his nail polish again."
"He hasn't cut himself again?" Lena asked.
"No. He hasn't done it again since everybody found out. Kind of helps that I had you lock all the razors in your and Stef's bathroom."
"What do you mean by violent music?" Lena asked.
"He borrowed a few of my dad's old Iron Maiden and Metallica CD's and synced them to his iPod." I tell her. She looks at me shocked, "I know. I thought he was just doing it to blow off some steam, but he actually likes the music. Caught him headbanging and playing air guitar when he stayed over last weekend. Cutest thing ever. Shocked my dad half to death too. The look on his face was priceless."
Lena chuckled a bit as we reached the door to the cafeteria. I caught sight of Jude, standing in a corner with Taylor and, surprisingly, Daria. A nervous bead of perspiration trickled down my forehead. Daria and I hadn't had the friendliest breakup. It ended with her storming from the room, screaming slurs back at me.
"I'll see you and your dad at dinner." Lena said as she excused herself. I nodded to her and approached them with a limp. I made eye contact with Jude, who offered me a wide smile, which I returned.
Jude had grown a lot in the three months that passed since Jesus's death. He had grown to the point he was the same height as me. He had started lifting weights with me every chance he got, so his once wiry frame was now fitted with a decent set of muscles. Because of his refusal to get a haircut, his hair had grown longer, to the point where it nearly reached his shoulders. It was almost like Brad Pitt's haircut in World War Z, except a bit shorter and brown.
He reached his hand out to me, which I took without hesitation. I made eye contact with Taylor, who nodded politely, and Daria, who looked uncomfortable.
"Taylor. How was your summer?" I asked.
"Pretty good."
"Daria?"
She looked up at me nervously.
"What about you?" I asked her.
"She spent the first few weeks of the summer sulking about you. Then she got over it, and started feeling bad for what she said to you." Taylor answered for her. Daria shot her a glare, which Taylor returned with a roll of her eyes.
"I take it you guys didn't end well?" Jude asked me with a quirked eyebrow.
"Unless you call calling me a faggot and storming from the room screaming as 'ending well', then no. It didn't end well at all.
Jude's demeanor changed in a fraction of a second.
He tensed, his eyes narrowed, and he growled. He actually freaking growled at her.
God that's hot.
What? I'm fourteen. Give me a break.
Daria took a step back.
"You didn't tell me that..." He said softly, the tone of his voice dropping at least an octave with the promise of a painful death or at least a debilitating injury.
"Jude, it's fine." I said, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close. I placed a kiss on the side of his head, "I expected it to be honest. I broke up with her, came out to her, and told her that I basically cheated on her when I kissed you while she was dating me. I'm surprised she didn't punch me."
"It was still uncalled for." Daria said softly, "Jude's right. I shouldn't have done that, and I am sorry. I was just shocked and hurt."
"Let's not dwell on the past, shall we? Let's go find a table." Taylor interjected.
We walked towards the door leading outside to go sit at the picnic tables outside. As we were about to reach the door, we heard one of my former baseball teammates jeer at us.
"Fucking queers. We don't wanna see that shit."
I noticed that Jude had released my hand. I whirled around to see him stalking towards them.
"Oh shit..." I said. I didn't even manage to make two steps forward before he reached them. He picked up the bowl of marinara dipping sauce on the boy's tray, and proceeded to empty it on the head of the boy who made the comment. He then casually walked back up to me, before turning back towards them with a smirk.
"I guess you really don't wanna see this then?" He said, and he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and planted a positively indecent kiss on me in front of everybody.
God, I love it when he's sassy.
It lasted for ten seconds before we parted with an audible pop.
Taylor broke the tension.
"Grrr, kitty's got his claws out now, huh?" She said with a smirk that was pure evil. I grabbed Jude by the hand and dragged him outside.
Needless to say, we didn't spend lunch eating.
More so making out against the wall of the school. So much so, that when the bell rang to signal the end of our lunch period we had to excuse ourselves to the bathroom to compose ourselves before Jude and I headed to our next class, which he had bribed me into taking with him.
It was a poetry class.
Just to be clear, I'm not good at poetry.
We sat down next to each other at a table in the back of the room, and waited for the teacher to walk in, which she did ten seconds later.
"Good morning class. Welcome to Poetry. I know most of today, in most of your classes, you have spent the day getting to know your classmates and reading your syllabus. Well in this class, we are gonna get straight to it. I want you all to write a poem. It can be about anything. You can say anything. Do not be afraid to say what you mean, or be obscene. Do not let your work be stained by the shadow of censorship."
I chanced a glance at Jude. The smile on his face could only be described as devious. It was the kind of smile usually seen in monster movies, accompanied by dramatic music and demented laughter.
This was gonna be good.
"You will have twenty minutes, and then you will turn it in. Then I will pick the best out of the bunch to be read aloud by its writer. Off you go."
Jude started writing immediately.
"What are you writing yours on?" I whisper to him.
"You'll see." He said, his eyes shining with the light of mischief.
At the end of the twenty minutes, she collected them. I handed her the mess I had managed to cobble together, feeling proud that it actually rhymed. The teacher sat down at her desk and started looking through them. When she reached Jude's, she flipped through the three pages it encompassed, and nodded to him.
"Mr. Adams Foster, please come up and read your poem."
The glee that lit Jude's face was nothing short of villainous as he stalked forward.
"One thing that gets on my nerves is discrimination and ignorance. I decided to write a poem that was also a rant. This called 'Inequality', by Jude Adams Foster.
All who are born different
Are oppressed and ostracized.
Separated by invisible walls,
They're depressed and criticized
People's rights denied by the state,
They're distressed and despised.
Hate and misery
Whipped into a fury
Human rights violated
Religion shoved down our throats
Our freedom's been desecrated.
All of a different orientation
Scorned by the whole fucking nation
Discrimination at your discretion
Equality is in your imagination
The government fights
For justice for some
And inequality for ALL.
Makes as much sense
As a fucking steel balloon
Our leaders are too damned dense
It needs to change soon.
It's not a disease
There is no cure
People live like this with ease
And still their hearts are pure
But try to tell this shit
To the morons we call leaders
They don't listen, they just throw a fit
The day they listen is the day they all quit
All of a different orientation
Scorned by the whole fucking nation
Discrimination at your discretion
Equality is in your imagination
The government fights
For justice for some
And inequality for ALL.
They cite religion as justification
For stomping on our rights
Religion clouding government decision
Sanctity of marriage, that's what they say
What a crock of shit
Marriage in the world today
Ain't valued one fucking bit.
Take a look in Hollywood
Where marriages last a week
But to those who like the same sex
Are denied the rights they seek
Fear of change is what makes this country weak
All of a different orientation
Scorned by the whole fucking nation
Discrimination at your discretion
Equality is in your imagination
The government fights
For justice for some
And inequality for ALL."
He finished reading and bowed to the class as the bell rang to signal the end of the period. I snapped both of my fingers a bunch of times, like you would at a coffee house poetry reading, earning a nod of appreciation from the teacher.
"You know..." I whispered to Jude as we walked down the hallway toward study hall, "If you put that to a beat, you could make a metal song out of it."
"That was the point." He said, smirking widely.
"You're listening to too much of my dad's old metal collection." I said jokingly.
"No such thing as too much metal." He retorted with mock seriousness, causing me to laugh.
"Whatever makes you happy, Judicorn." I say to him with a wide smile. He turned to me and smiled softly.
"You make me happy." He said to me, entirely serious, "You chase all the bad thoughts away."
He gave me another kiss, and then stared into my eyes.
"I love you, Connor."
My eyes widened... but I didn't hesitate.
"I love you too, Jude. And nothing will EVER change that. I promise."
I wrapped him in a hug, and for the first time in a long time, everything seemed like it was as it should be.