A/N: Hehe, well, not much to say here, since it's basically being posted up along with the previous chapter. Enjoy! :D
Carl tramped out of the school entrance, ignoring the slight drizzle of rain that had started hitting against his form. His shock of orange-red hair fell over his face, as he kicked pebbles aggressively away from his path. Glancing back sullenly at the dispersing crowd around the high school, Carl stopped for a moment to make sure that the platinum blonde head wasn't anywhere in sight.
It had been a rather desolate Wednesday, what with Hoodsey still absent from school and Blake avoiding Carl. He just couldn't fathom what had gotten into the younger boy all of a sudden; he had been a no-show that morning when Carl went to their usual meeting place where they started their walk to school together. Finally concluding that Blake was skipping today, Carl had run to school just in time to dash into class before the final warning bell.
After getting snapped at by Miss Todd to take his seat, Carl had turned around to find that the seat behind his was occupied, as usual, by Blake. After a second of staring, he had hurriedly gone to sit down. Miss Todd wasn't having one of her drowsy days, however, and Carl had to wait until the few free minutes before the next teacher arrived to accost Blake.
"What gives, Gripling?" he had spun around and hissed at the platinum head bent over a textbook. "Where were you this morning?"
Determined not to meet his best friend's eyes, Blake had stared at the page without really reading, quickly thinking up an answer. "Sorry, old chap, I had Winston drive me today," he finally muttered, sensing Carl's glare.
"But – why?"
Blake had gazed down at a diagram of the inside of a heart, not registering what he was seeing except that it was red. "Well… it looked like it was going to rain."
Carl had stared at him, nonplussed. Before he could say anything else, though, their Science teacher had marched in, barking for all of them to shut up.
Back in the present, Carl crossed a street, wondering what he could have done to offend Blake. Although the younger boy had been making excuses for his behaviour all day, Carl couldn't help suspecting that it had been his fault, somehow. It was officially the fourth day of his "slavery" to Blake, yet the blond had been strangely distant, and hadn't asked him to do a thing. He had finally decided to confront Blake about it after school, but then the Gripling had claimed that he was staying back for a long, important meeting with Mr. Curving, and asked Carl to go ahead without him.
Carl snorted as he realized he was worried about being let off the hook. If Gripling didn't want to make use of him while he was still tied down by the dare, surely he should be gleefully celebrating his good fortune? He grimaced as he remembered how Blake wouldn't look at him earlier; in all honesty, he felt like punching a wall, not celebrating.
The rain was falling a little harder now, and Carl's damp hair was in danger of getting soaked through and plastered to his skull. He jerked up his brown hoodie, shifted his backpack and started jogging. Of course it would start raining harder as he walked home, what else could possibly make this day any worse-?
A little way behind the frustrated redhead, at the end of the street, a black limousine turned around the bend, coming into full view if Carl had chosen to look over his shoulder. The driver of the vehicle caught sight of the hooded figure jogging ahead with a backpack slung over one shoulder, and recognized him at once. He pressed a button, and the glass partition between the driver's cab and the back of the limo slid down, causing the forlorn figure sitting in the back to look up.
"Sorry to intrude on your thoughts, Master Blake," said Winston pleasantly. "But isn't that Master Carl just up ahead? He seems to be fighting a losing battle with the weather."
Jolted out of his depressed reverie, Blake dashed forward to peer over Winston's shoulder at the pavement up ahead. Spotting Carl, he let out a groan. He had tried to evade the redhead all day, going as far as telling Winston that he wasn't feeling good and would rather be driven to and back from school. He had even lied to Carl about having to meet a teacher after school, so that he wouldn't have to explain why he wasn't walking back as usual…
"Perhaps we could offer the young Master Foutley a ride?" Winston inquired, rather surprised that Blake hadn't already asked him to stop ahead for Carl. A slight suspicion about the reason for Blake's low spirits wriggled into the older man's head.
Blake's thoughts raced around inside his own head, as he considered his options and their consequences. If he asked Winston to keep driving, Carl would probably notice the limo and recognize it, and although Blake could later claim that they hadn't seen him to explain why they didn't stop, Carl would know Blake had left school too early to have been at any kind of meeting. If they did stop to offer Carl a lift, then Carl would know Blake hadn't gone to a meeting – and he would probably ask him about it immediately. He couldn't ask Winston to stay behind Carl all the way back to Protected Pines, without having to explain why, and Blake himself wasn't quite sure about his own feelings yet.
Glancing back up, he saw that they were much closer to Carl now, the older boy walking at a very brisk pace, head down against the onslaught of rain. He caught the small shiver that ran through that stubborn form, and saw Carl hug himself tighter. The younger boy sighed.
"Pull over, Winston," he said resignedly.
Outside, Carl had been cursing the rain so thoroughly that he barely noticed the black vehicle that was slowing down beside him. Hearing his name suddenly called out, he jerked his head up in surprise and finally saw the limo beside him, barely moving, with a familiar face poking out of a wound-down window.
"Need a ride, Foutley?" Blake grinned slightly despite himself. Carl stopped in astonishment, staring at Blake – wasn't he supposed to be at school? It couldn't have been longer than five to ten minutes since school ended.
He didn't spend too long wondering, though, since his hoodie was almost soaked through.
"I think I'll take you up on that offer, Gripling," he said loudly over the rain, and wasted no time in getting into the dry, quiet interior of the car. Shutting the door after him, he turned around to grin at Blake – only to find the younger boy immersed in fiddling with the hem of his teal gray sweater. Carl frowned, pushing the wet hood of his jacket down, and running his hands through his damp hair.
"Hello, Master Carl," came Winston's voice from the front. "I do hope you haven't caught a cold."
"Hey there, Winston, my man," Carl smiled at the butler's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Don't worry about me, it takes more than a little rain to defeat Carl Foutley." Although this crazy dilemma just might do it, he thought, glancing at Blake.
"A little? I'm not sure I agree with your definition of "little", Master Foutley, but I'm happy to hear that all the same." Chuckling, Winston had the glass partition slide back up to give the young masters their privacy. He had a feeling the two boys had something to work out amongst themselves.
Carl watched the glass partition slide back into place, anticipation of talking alone with Blake building up inside him. The events of that strange day had shaken him out of the conflict of emotions and thoughts he had been experiencing ever since the day he lost the dare. He had realized something while walking in the rain – he had missed Blake, even though it had just been one day, and even then when he had him constantly in sight. Blake's weird new determination to avoid him had worried him beyond his previous concerns, and he wanted answers.
"So, uhh, what happened to that meeting?" His eyes settled on the boy beside him. A faint flush appeared on the paler boy's face as he sensed his friend's keen gaze.
"Right. The meeting," Blake quickly thought up a realistic lie. "It was cancelled, Mr. Curving had to rush off at the last minute. Said something about an emergency of some sort…" His voice trailed off, his eyes still determinedly fixed on his sweater.
"Oh. I see," Carl said, then glanced at the glass partition. "It sure was cool of Winston to come pick you up, I guess he didn't want you walking back in the rain."
Blake blinked. Carl had assumed that Winston had made the decision to pick Blake up… which meant he didn't have to lie again. Relieved, he let out a nonchalant "mmhmm" and unconsciously lifted his gaze to meet Carl's. He froze as he met those bright, leaf green eyes, surveying him as though he was the most puzzling and – Blake tried to ignore the thrill that went through him – important thing in the world.
"Err," he said intelligently. Even smart kids like him who could afford to skip two grades in their education had their less-than-shining moments.
"What was up with you today, Blake?" Carl sounded uncharacteristically serious. "You've been acting really weird. Did I do something-?"
A rush of confusion overcame Blake as he thought of the picture in Carl's room, carelessly left in the Rocket. Could he have over-reacted to finding it there? Maybe there was some less-upsetting reason why it had been up there, and Carl wasn't secretly craving for Noelle. More importantly – Blake's mouth thinned as he thought of the question he had pushed away until now – why was it so important to him? After all, was there really anything between Foutley and himself?
By now the blonde boy knew perfectly well what his feelings were regarding Carl Foutley. He had admitted to himself, the day Carl had teased him about Curving, that there was no denying it any longer – he cared about the redhead, with an affection that went beyond a platonic friendship.
Whether he would ever be able to tell Foutley, on the other hand, was something Blake couldn't quite answer.
"Hellooo, Earth to Gripling, come in Gripling!" Carl waved a hand in front of Blake's face, his loud voice breaking into the younger boy's reflections.
"Wha-" Blake spluttered, falling back slightly. He stared at Carl, quickly trying to regain his senses under that intense gaze. The way he looked at him, surely there was something there…?
"Honestly, Carl, that really wasn't necessary," Blake huffed indignantly.
"You were spacing out on me, Gripling," Carl said dismissively. "I wanna know why you've been avoiding me. If it's something I did, spit it out already."
Blake gaped at his friend, forever the blunt, tactless interrogator. He wondered briefly if he should mention the picture, but then realized he'd have to explain why he was so affected by it. A flash of anger surprised him, and he gazed reproachfully at Carl.
"I just wasn't feeling well today, Carl. It's nothing you have to worry yourself about," he said rather haughtily, turning away. The next thing he knew, a hand slammed down on the upholstery right in front of his face. Startled, Blake let out something like a yelp, turning back to find Carl's face inches from his. The older boy had moved forward into an awkward position, nearly straddling Blake, but still balancing his knee on the seat somehow.
"There's something you're not telling me, Blakey-boy," he said in a low voice, his eyes burning into the widened blue ones before him. "Quit lying."
"I told you, Foutley," the blonde began in an irritated tone. "I was just feeling a little… under the weather…" His voice trailed off as he took in just how close they were, their faces inches apart. Carl's body wasn't really leaning into him too heavily, but the proximity was making him very nervous. Perhaps it was because they were already in a closed space, and Carl was just staring him down like that… in any case, Blake could feel the blush spreading across his face, and began struggling to breathe normally.
Carl wasn't quite sure why he was so worked up, but something about the way Blake had evaded his questions really pissed him off and made him nervous at the same time. He was starting to think that maybe he had been mistaken about the younger boy's feelings, and Blake was the one suspecting Carl of having such feelings.
Maybe Blake honestly did just see him as a friend; Carl couldn't help the wave of sullen disappointment that swept through him at the thought. He had come to the conclusion, from all those hours sitting up in the Rocket thinking, that he may be bisexual. Concluding that he probably would go out with Blake, if the opportunity presented itself.
He had taken out Noelle's picture, the girl who had been his first love, and stared at it, making sure there hadn't been any romantic feeling towards her left. He had successfully proven to himself that he was indeed over her, as he hardly even felt upset at her anymore. He had moved on – he could move on.
But then Wednesday happened, and he was left confused again.
"What happened, Blakey?" he asked softly. He noticed the red stain on the other boy's face, and the way he was starting to hyperventilate. Highly doubting that it was fear, Carl looked at him confusedly, but still noticed how adorable he looked, all flustered and nervous like that. Without thinking, he brought his face closer to Blake's, their lips brushing-
Carl was nearly thrown backwards as the car, which had been travelling smoothly, jolted to a firm stop. Blake grabbed fistfuls of the older boy's jacket, saving him at the last minute, and Carl collapsed onto Blake in surprise. For a second he recollected his senses, and Blake gasped at the weight that had landed directly on him, still blushing furiously. Carl rolled off of the younger boy just as the glass partition went down and Winston's voice cheerily called back to them.
"Here we are, Master Carl, at the Foutley residence-" he paused as he caught sight of Blake and Carl struggling upright, Blake still panting. "Are you boys alright? I do apologize if that stop was rather sudden-"
"Nah, it's alright, Winston," Carl said quickly, opening the door.
"Master Carl, it's still drizzling, let me accomp-"
"No need, I'll just make a run for it," Carl cut in. "Thanks Winston, see ya!" He paused, before glancing very quickly at Blake and getting out a "See-ya-Gripling", then turned around and ran.
A/N: Well, that's it for now. Maybe the next chapter (or two) will resolve the whole Noelle issue between them, and lead to an ending.. I don't want to drag this fic on for too long in case my updates are too slow, or I don't finish it :/
In any case, I hope you liked what you read! Will update as soon as I can :)