Chapter 19
October came to World Academy like a sinister stranger. Matthew huddled down in his hoodie and frowned at the icy puffs of wind kicking up leaves over the campus. The buildings that had seemed so shiny and modern upon arrival now seemed too sharp and cold. October in England had been a fun month. They'd all been planning their Halloween costumes and flirting harmlessly. This year, nothing was harmless and everything was wrong.
The entire campus knew there was an escaped rapist in their midst, and as Halloween grew closer, the stories about the rapist grew wilder. Matthew currently sat alone on a bench where Gilbert used to skateboard, but his boyfriend was not with him. Despite the unofficial rule that nobody should walk around alone anymore, Matthew still found himself driven to leave the buildings of the school and go wandering on the grounds. He and Gilbert had walked together often at first, but as the newness of their relationship wore off, Matthew spent more and more time alone. He wasn't avoiding Gilbert, per say, but he didn't want to spend time around him when he was high. He'd known Gilbert did drugs when he started dating him, but that didn't mean he liked it. Matthew didn't really know what to do about it, though, so he just stayed silent and went walking by himself.
A shadow fell over the bench and Matthew jumped a bit, turning around quickly to see who'd sneaked up on him. Matthew's violet eyes widened in surprise and then lit up with delight.
"Francis!" Matthew said happily. Francis flashed him a tired smile and seemed genuinely happy to see him. They stood with the bench in between them for a few awkward seconds before Matthew simply hopped over it and hugged the taller boy. Laughing, Francis hugged him tightly back and perhaps lingered a bit too long considering they were exes.
When they parted, Matthew seemed to remember himself and his smile faded some. He coughed a bit and stepped back, casting his eyes to the ground. Francis ducked his head over until he caught Matthew's shy gaze, and smiling, coaxed him into staring at him once more.
"Considering what's going on here, why are you out all alone?" Francis asked with a little bit of sternness in his tone. Matthew frowned slightly at the mention of the rapist and looked away again, off towards the cold, modern buildings glinting in the morning sunlight like light off a razor blade.
"I've been playing hockey. I can hold my own now," Matthew said, with a just a little bit of defiance coloring his tone. Francis grinned. Casually, as if was no big deal at all, Francis moved up beside him and dropped an arm around his shoulders. More out of surprise than anything else, Matthew fell into step with him, blinking up at him rather owlishly.
"I can tell. That jacket was really too loose on you when you bought it last year. You've bulked up in your shoulders." Francis accompanied this assessment with a subtle squeeze on Matthew's upper arm. It made the younger boy blush and he thought of Gilbert. He shrugged Francis's arm off his shoulder and put some distance between them.
"We can't…I'm with Gilbert now," Matthew said quietly, but firmly. Francis looked at him in amused surprise.
"I just put an arm around your shoulder, Matthew. It's not a big deal. I'm just happy to see you again. I just arrived not even a half hour ago," Francis said. With a devious grin, he put his hands in his pockets. "Better?"
Matthew glared (though it looked more like a pout) and eventually rolled his eyes and began walking again.
"Here to visit Michelle again?" Matthew asked. He was proud of himself for keeping almost all the bitterness out of his voice. Francis looked at the sky, and then at the practically vacant campus.
"Michelle broke up with me. Three weeks ago, actually. I'm back now for good—for school," Francis said. Matthew stopped walking and stared at the other boy in surprise.
"Are you…I mean…you don't seem upset," Matthew finally settled on saying. Francis shrugged.
"I love Michelle. She's been through a lot and she needed someone at the same time I needed someone. We helped each other heal and now it's time for her to move on. I understand."
Matthew didn't want to cry, but he felt tears begin to sting his eyes. The old Matthew would have brushed them away, or blamed them on allergies, but Matthew was not who he used to be. He didn't want to let other people hurt him and walk all over him anymore. It was time he said what he should have said to Francis a long time ago.
"You had me. I could have been there for you. I was there for you. I would have done anything for you—anything at all—and you…you…YOU THREW IT AWAY! And for WHAT? A girl who doesn't even love you? What was it, Francis, because I really want to know! Was it her looks? Is it because I'm not a girl? What could she give you that I couldn't because I know she didn't love you more! All this time I've blamed Michelle, but Alfred was right! You were the one who let me go, and you know what? You were really, really fucking stupid!"
Matthew was breathing harshly after his outburst, tears falling down his cheeks from huge, reddened lavender eyes. His fists were clenched at his sides and his wavy hair blew around his face in the wind. Everything in the empty school yard seemed to be completely silent. No birds flew, no bells rang, and even the rustling leaves seemed as though they'd been muted.
For a long, long time, Francis was quiet, too. Finally, tears began to slide down his cheeks to mirror Matthew's. The taller boy shrugged, almost helplessly.
"I made a mistake, Matthew. I knew it right away…but you didn't. You didn't even value yourself enough to be properly angry at me. Even now, you think she must have been better than you in some way, or that surely you had to be lesser than her. You didn't blame me because you thought—you actually thought—you had failed me. I cheated on you, Matthew. And you know what? Michelle wasn't the only one. You put me up on a pedestal that I didn't deserve. I was a stupid, worthless cheating scum bag and I treated you like dirt! You didn't deserve it, and yet you blame yourself. Now who sounds fucking stupid?" Francis asked harshly.
Matthew had never truly felt hatred before, but in that moment, he honestly, sincerely and utterly hated Francis Bonnefoy. It was one of those moments where Matthew could think of a million things to say. The words burned on his tongue. He wanted to scream and hit and curse until Francis realized just how big of a jerk he was…but no words came. He stood silent, choking on his own words, wishing for just once that he could be the person who knew just the right thing to say. He felt like the pathetic person Francis claimed him to be.
And then…something snapped.
"I'm stronger now. I didn't deserve what you did to my heart. The only pathetic one here is you—playing games with people's emotions and, what? Cheating on me to teach me some sort of twisted lesson about respecting myself? Is that honestly the garbage that you're telling yourself? I guess it makes sense that if you lied to me, you'd lie to yourself, too!"
"You kissed Jones! You gave the school stoner a blow job! Are you forgetting all that? Because I didn't!"
"SHUT UP!"
"Why? You didn't want to hear lies, so let's say the truth—you're secretly a slut! You want everyone to think you're sweet and innocent but that threesome was your idea!"
Matthew charged forward with a guttural shout and tackled Francis to the ground. They rolled around furiously, scratching, punching, and pulling hair. Matthew used all his hard earned upper body strength and punched Francis as hard as he could. Francis's lip burst open and blood began to fly. Enraged, Francis flipped Matthew beneath him and cocked his fist back, but at the last second, he slammed it into the ground beside Matthew's ear and captured Matthew's lips in a searing, painful, demanding kiss.
And Matthew gave as good as he got.
After what felt like a small eternity, Francis felt himself being roughly hauled off Matthew. It felt like they'd been kissing for a lifetime, but in reality it must have only been a few seconds. One of the new campus security guards had Francis in a chokehold and a school coach was rapidly approaching. He reached Matthew and pulled him off the ground.
"Was he attacking you?" The security guard yelled. "Was he trying to rape you?"
"What? Oh, God no—we—he—" Matthew stuttered, unable to put the security guard's fears to rest. He suddenly realized how bad the situation looked.
"I'm not…merde!" Francis switched to French and began rapidly proclaiming his innocence. A crowd of students began to gather, and of course, Alfred and Arthur were among them. Immediately, Alfred was by Matthew's side, glaring angrily at Francis.
"What the fuck, man? Did you hit him? I'm going to fucking kill you!" Alfred came at Francis before the coach or the security guard could stop him and he landed a fairly hard punch on Francis's midriff. Arthur came into the fray to pull Alfred off, but that was a little like trying to pull a Rottweiler off a turkey leg. In the scuffle, Arthur got elbowed in the eye and he felt his already injured shoulder strain and pop again.
Suddenly, a buzzing noise filled the air and Alfred dropped heavily to the ground, twitching. The fight was officially over.
"Hey! Are you donut junkies listening? That rent-a-cop TASERED me! That's, like, completely against the law! I'm an American and I have rights!" Alfred half-shouted for the millionth time. The four of them sat in the police station, all of them cuffed and bleeding and looking terrible. Arthur was slowly and dully thwacking his head against the chair behind him, perhaps hoping he'd eventually knock himself out and would no longer have to listen to Alfred's loud, high pitched complaining…or Francis's and Matthew's bickering.
"This is all your fault!" Matthew hissed for the millionth time.
"My fault? This is the second time that idiot has assaulted me! Why does everyone keep hitting me and saying it's my fault? I didn't hit YOU!"
"That's because you're a foppish pansy!" Matthew retorted. Alfred banged his handcuffs against the metal chair he was sitting on.
"HEY! My dad's the freaking president! That means you can't arrest me! And I've got, like, six million followers on Twitter! As soon as I get my phone I'm telling the people what you've done! They won't stand for this! Look at you all! You're doing NOTHING! Give the damn coffee machine a rest! This is probably what you were doing when my boyfriend got raped—sitting on your assess writing speeding tickets!"
Arthur started banging his head a little harder.
A very large, very intimidating police officer finally came around the glass wall and glared stonily at Alfred. Alfred glared right back.
"Listen kid, you seriously need to shut the hell up. You're all sixteen, and that means I can arrest you. Why don't you be a good little boy and keep your mouth shut till Daddy comes to bail you out, alright?"
Alfred glared. The police officer glared. The stand-off ended when the officer huffed and started to walk away. Arthur held his breath and stopped the banging…knowing it was coming…just waiting for it…
"Yeah, run away! The donut shop is about to close so you better get your fat ass moving!"
That was how they ended up getting arrested together. Unluckily for Arthur, they were put in the same cell together. For approximately twenty minutes, everyone was furious with everyone else, and they all sat in stony silence. Surprisingly, it was Matthew who spoke up first.
"This…is kinda funny."
Arthur glared with his good eye—the other one was swollen shut. Alfred just scowled and leaned over to flop dramatically against the bars, only to yelp in pain when he was shocked with static electricity. It made Matthew crack, and he started giggling.
"They…they tasered you. I can't believe you actually got tasered!" Matthew's statement coaxed an amused grin out of Francis, which rapidly turned into a full laugh when Alfred puffed up like an angry bird.
"I am going to be charged for raping Arthur. Arthur…of all people…can't they see that I have much better taste?"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, FROG! You're so fucking insensitive it's not even funny! And YOU! You elbowed me in the bloody eye! Some hero you are! Some protector! My arm is swelling up like…like…something that's really fucking swollen and it's all because you CAN'T KEEP YOUR BLOODY TRAP CLOSED!" Arthur huffed and then added, "LIKE USUAL!"
"Arthur…I'm sorry, baby." Alfred said, looking like he truly felt very, very guilty. He'd tried apologizing numerous times already, but each time Arthur just got a very scary look on his face and glared at him until Alfred shut his mouth.
Luckily, Alfred was dumbly persistent if nothing else. He slowly inched closer to Arthur until the glare returned.
"Don't. touch. me."
"Look at it this way, guys…it really can't get worse. I don't see how it could possibly get worse," Matthew said.
"How is it that we're all in prison and Ivan isn't in here with us? Something is seriously wrong with this picture," Alfred huffed.
"You're lucky I'm not, da? Otherwise, who would bail your stupid asses out of jail?" The four miserable teens looked up to see none other than Ivan and Yao standing outside their cell. In perhaps a rare moment of rationality, Alfred had called Ivan instead of his mother. Now, twenty minutes after they'd all been hauled into the station, Ivan and Yao had arrived to bail them out instead of the Channel Six news with his mother and father.
The guard accompanying Ivan just shook his head and opened the door.
"You're free to go, since nobody wants to press charges," the officer said.
Alfred flung his arms around Ivan like an idiot while the hulking Russian tried his hardest to push the enthusiastic American away. Ignoring the two dumbasses, Yao quietly went to Arthur's side and helped him up. Matthew stood and dusted off his pants. He looked down at Francis, who looked unsurely back up at him. With a sigh, Matthew extended his hand. Francis took it and soon they were both standing, staring at each other with a million questions in their eyes.
"Ugh, I know we're in prison guys, but can you drop the soap later? Stop looking like such a creeper rapist or they'll never let us go, Francis!" Alfred griped.
And it was right then that the utter absurdity of the situation hit Arthur like a ton of bricks. First he smiled, then he laughed, and then he started crying hysterically as all the stress and tension of the past two weeks slowly drained out of him.
The guard looked highly uncomfortable.
"Will you six just leave already? You're scaring the other inmates."
So leave they did. They found themselves eventually at the canal behind Ivan's neighborhood, with a 24-case of beer.
"This year…has been so fucked up!" Matthew moaned, hiccupping a little as he peered into the darkness of his can.
"I don't even…I don't even…Artie?" Alfred asked drunkenly, squeezing the boy in his arms just a little too tightly.
"Yeah?" Arthur grunted. He was perhaps the drunkest of all of them.
"I love you. Like, so much." Alfred said.
"Mmm," Arthur said noncommittally.
"An'…an' I hate that you're scared of me now."
Arthur stayed very quiet in Alfred's arms, and everyone else (all drunk, except for Yao) remained respectfully quiet. Then Arthur, as if remembering his fear, pushed himself clumsily out of Alfred's lap.
"Lemme go," he slurred.
"But Artie! No! I'd never hurt you! I didn't mean ta…ta…hurt your eye. Baby, I'm soooo sorry!"
"I said lemme go!" Arthur protested, drunkenly escaping Alfred's grip and half-stumbling, half-crawling away into the higher grass. His one good shoulder began to shake with the effort of holding up his body, and he started retching.
"Okay…I think Arthur has had enough. I am taking him back to the house," Yao said officiously, leaving no room for argument. Although he was the thinnest in the group, Yao easily hefted Arthur to his feet and ducked under his good arm. "You are going to be okay, Arthur. Stop crying. Everything will be okay," Yao soothed in a gentle voice. Alfred's heart seemed to break at those words, and he tried to stand to follow the two, but Ivan roughly knocked him back to the grass.
"You're too drunk. Just stay put. I'll get them home," Ivan said. "Besides, he clearly is sick of your fucking mouth never shutting up!" Ivan said. Alfred sniffled and ducked his head into his folded arms, feeling perhaps even worse than earlier in the day, when he'd been tasered with enough force to knock a cow to its knees.
Matthew, ever the friendly drunk, dropped his arm around Alfred's shoulders.
"S'okay, Alfie. I'm here."
"T-this night has r-really sucked! It's been two weeks…an' I'm tryin' to be a good boyfriend…but he…he…hates me now an' everything I do is wrong!" Alfred sobbed into his arms. Francis, who was nicely buzzed off the beer and feeling melancholy, made a silent toast of agreement to Alfred's words and took another swig of his beer.
"Life is shit. All of it," Francis said.
"Shut up, Francis. You're stupid," Matthew said grumpily. Francis frowned.
"You've got to leave him…the stoner. You should be with me," Francis said. He was staring intensely at his beer, as if it held the answers to solving all the problems in his life. Matthew glared at him drunkenly for a few moments and then slumped against Alfred's shoulder.
"He's great. I really like Gilbert but he…he's high, like, all the time. It's stupid." Apparently, that was Matthew's favorite word when he was drunk.
"Tell 'em to stop. He needs ta…jus' say no, man," Alfred slurred, temporarily forgetting his problems with Arthur. "Drugs are bad."
"So is drinking, but look at us? We're fucking hardened criminals now, no? We've been to jail," Francis said dramatically, taking a big swig and then dropping onto his back, staring up at the stars in wonder. "It's so…big."
Matthew flopped backwards, too, pulling Alfred down with him. The three boys all lay shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the sky.
"We're really drunk," Matthew observed.
"Yeah," Francis agreed. A shooting star began to burn brightly as it streaked across the sky. Alfred suddenly grew very concerned.
"It's gonna…it's gonna…hit Arthur! I've gotta go help him!" Matthew pulled him back down.
"You're an idiot. Arthur's not gonna get hit with a star, stupid."
"We should make a wish. It is only right," Francis said gravely.
"I wish Gilbert wasn't a stoner," Matthew said quickly, but with sincerity. Francis stared at Matthew's sweet, upturned face for a long few moments before making his wish.
"I wish Matthew would forget about the stupid stoner," he said. Alfred bit his lip, and stared wide-eyed at all the stars burning so very, very far away.
"I wish…that Arthur would be okay again. I wish I'd been there to keep him safe. I wish…he'd forgive me for being such a crappy hero."
There was a long, long silence and then Matthew sighed.
"Wishing on stars…it's…"
"Stupid?" Francis offered, with a drunken smile. Matthew grinned, and gave Alfred's hand a hard squeeze. Nobody said anything about the blue-eyed boy's tears.
"Yeah. Stupid."
A/N: Yikes! So shit has really hit the fan. Thank god for Ivan and Yao. Whoever would have predicted those two being the stable and sane ones? Sorry chapters have been short lately. They'll get longer again soon, promise!
Oh, and a note for some of the readers on the last chapter that were upset. I really am sorry. I'm going to go put a warning in right now. I feel really guilty now about it, so I'm really, really sorry!