Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer rights apply.

Warning:Updates will most definitely be slow. Sorry, guys.
This contains SLASH, in other words: same sex couples. It also contains drug use, violence, sexual situations, and MAY contain a(n OC) death. This story is marked for mature readers only, please treat it as such.

Pairings: Will be sporadic, and a surprise. I'm not ruining the story by telling you end pairings.

Beta'd By: Sarah2437 (Thank you for your hard work!)

Getting Back Together Again
Chapter XXVI - Deep Conversations

Racetrack had just started to become optimistic that he could have a quiet ride home before his mom started speaking.

"I'm glad to see you're making new friends," Mrs. Higgins said as she pulled up to a stoplight and looked over at her son. "I think it's important for you to have friends that aren't going to be a bad influence on you."

"What makes you think that Swifty is going to be a good influence on me?" Racetrack asked, frowning at her. "You don't even know him."

"I know what kind of grades he gets," Mrs. Higgins replied, looking forward again as the light turned green. "And I don't appreciate that attitude, young man," she said, shooting her son a quick frown.

"It's grades that make someone a good influence on me, then?" Racetrack snapped, ignoring his mother's warning. "That's weird, because I don't ever remember Blink or Mush getting below a C average in their entire lives. Or is it that you have lower standards for new friends, but once I've known someone for years they have to start pulling in A's?"

"Don't be rude to your mother, Anthony," Mrs. Higgins scolded.

"What kind of grades does Sean pull off, huh?" Racetrack interrupted. "He never pays attention in first period. And Blink told me he blatantly takes naps in the art class they have together."

"I thought I told you that I didn't want you hanging around with Blink anymore," his mom replied, cutting him off.

"He's my friend, Ma!"

"I know that! But until you get your addiction under control I don't want you associating with people who are going to talk you into it."

"It's not an addiction," Racetrack snapped. "And even if it was, it's not Blink who's talking me into going to the track. He doesn't even like it when I talk him into it. I usually go alone."

"Well, now you'll usually go never," Mrs. Higgins snapped. "And once you get well you'll realize how big of a problem this is. Disobeying your father and I to go throw all your money down the drain. It's disgraceful, Anthony."

Racetrack rolled his eyes. "It's fun, Ma," he muttered quiet enough so that she wouldn't hear. He crossed his arms as he pressed his back into his seat. "I'm glad you like Swifty," he finally relented, turning to his mother. 'Because I'm going to hang out with him on Monday so he can catch me up on everything I'm missing at the track,' went unsaid.

Mrs. Higgins smiled at him before focusing back on the road in front of her. "I know this is hard, Anthony, but you'll thank me for it one day. If we don't take care of this problem now it'll just get worse."

"Sure, Ma," Racetrack said, sighing as he focused his attention out the window. He hoped that was enough of a hint to end the conversation.

Mrs. Higgins followed her son's example and sighed as well. "I love you, Anthony."

"Sure, Ma."

"She's stupid is what she is," Skittery said from the back seat as Spot pulled the car into its parking space. "And she's a fucking cunt. And a bitch. She thinks she's just got him. Just like that," he said, snapping his fingers. "As if it's that easy. It's not that easy, you know?" he asked, looking between Jack and Spot.

"It'd be pretty easy to break your god damn fucking leg," Spot muttered as he got out of the car and slammed his door. "You've gotta be the most fucking annoying guy I've ever fucking met."

"Yeah, and I like Sarah," Jack said, frowning at Skittery as they both climbed out of the car. "Stop calling her a cunt, dude. It's not cool."

Spot pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jesus fuck, it's like I'm suddenly housing a bunch of fucking girls," he muttered to himself.

"Boss!" Bam called out, rushing over to grab Spot up and hug him. "You genius little bastard! I got the date! He said yes!"

Spot elbowed him in the chest, forcing Bam to drop him. "What the fucking hell is happening around here? When the fuck did this place turn into a boarding school for preteen fucking girls?" he snapped. "Jesus fucking Christ. I don't want to fucking hear about any of this," he said before heading inside.

"Man, what crawled up his ass?" Bam asked, looking between Jack and Skittery.

"Probably jealous," Skittery replied with a shrug. "His love life? Not going as well as yours, my friend."

Bam laughed. "Spot with a love life? That's a good one."

"Totally true, man. I swear," Skittery replied. "Dude's got it so bad for Racetrack."

"No way," Jack said. "Like, Racetrack? For real? I've never even seen them talk to each other."

"Yeah, hence why I said 'not going well'," Skittery replied, raising an eyebrow at Jack. "Remember when I said that, like, two seconds ago?"

"He has been acting weird lately," Bam said, putting a hand up to his chin. "And it would explain why Slingshot's been so cranky lately."

"Wait, why would Spot's … whatever with Racetrack make Slingshot cranky?" Jack asked, the confusion on his face growing by the second.

"Oh, dude, those two are totally doing the nasty," Skittery replied.

"Yeah, keep up," Bam said before turning his attention back to Skittery. "It's not like Spot to not make a move though. He's gotta've done something by now."

Skittery shook his head. "He's straight avoidance, man."

"Hm." Bam frowned. "You think he needs a push or something?"

"Could get us murdered," Skittery replied.

"Well, that's always a concern when Spot's involved," Bam said with a shrug.

Jack looked between them both. "We really are acting like a bunch of preteen girls," he said, holding up his hands. "I'm out on this," he announced before heading inside.

Bam watched him leave before turning back to Skittery. "His love life not going well either, huh?"

"Who? Jack? Total asexual, dude."

"This is not going to go well," Itey said as soon as he jumped into Bumlets' car. "I can't believe I'm doing this shit. I never had to have a boyfriend-meets-the-parents-dinner-thing when I was going out with Skittery," he muttered.

Bumlets rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because Skittery refused to ever call you his boyfriend," he reminded him. "And, also, Skittery's parents are really fucked up."

"They've already found me shirtless on their daughter's bed, dude. They've gotta hate me. And now they're inviting me over for dinner? With you? It doesn't make any sense," Itey replied, running a hand through his hair. .

"I think it's David who's inviting us over for dinner," Bumlets pointed out with a shrug. "In fact, I'm not even sure his parents know you're the person they found on their daughter's bed."

Itey frowned at him. "Are you trying to tell me that David's trying to set me up? He's seriously forcing the boyfriend-parent meet up?"

"I wouldn't say-"

"That sneaky little ingenious bastard," Itey interrupted, punching his open palm. "I'll tell you what, David's nothing if not surprising. You think you've got the dude figured out, and then he pulls a fast one on ya. It's pretty inspiring, honestly."

"I thought for sure you'd be pissed about it," Bumlets admitted, glancing over at him.

"Of course I'm angry. I'm still not comfortable even calling Sarah my girlfriend! In fact, I don't even know if we're monogamous or not. It's been, like, two days, dude. And I'm already meeting the parents? Who probably, I bet to god, don't even fucking know about me yet," Itey ranted. "But, damn it, I can't yell at David. It'd be like kicking a puppy."

"I didn't realize you had a problem with kicking puppies," Bumlets muttered.

Itey continued on as if he hadn't heard him. "There's gotta be some class you can take to learn how to do that," he said, running a hand through his hair. "To make someone feel guilty for getting mad at you? That's gotta be a learned behavior, right?"

Bumlets shrugged again. "I'm pretty sure I've always felt bad for yelling at David, even when we were kids."

"Hm, yeah, I guess that's true," Itey answered, leaning back in his seat. "Ugh, this is going to be awful, isn't it?"

Bumlets gave him a quick glance and smirked. "I don't know. I'm looking forward to it, personally. Should be a pretty hilarious time."

"You just wanna see me uncomfortable," Itey accused with a frown. He jerked upright in his chair, eyes wide as he looked at Bumlets. "You don't think that Sarah doesn't know I'm coming, do you?"

"I can only hope."

Itey pulled at his hair. "Oh, man, that's not good, is it? Fuck. Do you think that David wouldn't warn her first? Oh, man. Shit."

"I think the better question is, 'why would he tell her?'" Bumlets replied calmly. "Be better to just sit back and let her find out when you get there., wouldn't it? That way she wouldn't be able to cause a scene."

"I don't wanna do this anymore," Itey said, taking off his seatbelt. "Lemme out of here. I want off this ride." He made for the door, despite the fact that the car was moving.

"Okay, first, doors stay locked when the car's in motion," Bumlets snapped, grabbing Itey by his shirt collar and forcing him away from the door. "It's something we learned in safety school when we were fucking five."

"Like I'm supposed to remember shit from over a decade ago," Itey muttered.

"Two, what the fucking hell, dude? You'd rather die than face the Jacobs? You were over at their house all the time in middle school," Bumlets reminded him.

"Oh, in middle school?" Itey snapped back. "You mean that time in my life when I wasn't trying to bang their hot, teenage daughter?"

"Well, Jesus Christ, dude, you don't tell them that!" Bumlets exclaimed, laughing. "Man, you are going to royally fuck this up for yourself, aren't you?"

Itey dropped his face into his hands. "Fuck. I really hope the Jacobs don't own any guns." He lifted up his head. "They seem like Democrats, right?"

"Democrats?" Bumlets asked slowly, glancing over at Itey before turning his attention back to the road. "What the hell does their political stance have to do with anything?"

"Because of gun laws. Duh," Itey scoffed. "Democrats are adamantly against guns, ergo, if the Jacobs are Democrats it means they don't own any guns, and they'll have a harder time killing me," he told Bumlets. "You ever remember seeing any political signs on their front lawn?"

"I don't think the political party system works the way you think it does," Bumlets said, frowning at his friend. "Also, I'm really glad you're still too young to vote."

"Ouch, dude," Itey replied, raising his eyebrows. "That's kind of offensive."

"So is the fact that you think people are Democrats based on how they feel about guns," Bumlets said. "The political parties are separated by how they bring in and spend money, not by petty social issues."

"Ha! Yeah, maybe in the 1600's."

"America didn't exist in the 1600's, Itey," Bumlets muttered.

Itey continued on, content to ignore the correction. "But nowadays it's all about the social issues, man. How you feel about guns and god and the gays-"

"There's gotta be something politically incorrect with calling people 'the gays'," Bumlets muttered.

Itey ignored him just as well the second time. "Drug laws, that's a big one, too. Nobody cares how people are spending money. That system's already fucked anyway. Think most people have given up on it."

"I don't think giving up on our bartering system is a viable option," Bumlets said, expecting Itey to ignore him again.

He wasn't disappointed. "Immigration is kind of a big one. Don't know if that'd be considered a social issue or not. It is, right? I mean, racism is a social issue, right? And the only reason immigration is even a thing is because Republicans hate Mexicans so much."

"I don't think it's Mexicans so much as people jumping the border illegally that they have a problem with."

Itey shrugged at him. "Hey, as long as they mow my lawn for cheap I don't give a fuck where they're from."

"Wow," Bumlets replied, shaking his head. "I have no idea why I started this conversation and thought you wouldn't be absolutely offensive." He pulled into the Jacobs' driveway and looked at their bare front lawn. "I'm glad it's over, and I'm also really glad the Jacobs don't advertise their political leanings on their lawn."

"Couldn't make this easy for me, could they?" Itey muttered.

"You ready, boys?" Slingshot asked as soon as he reached the basement and spotted both Jack and Skittery laying down in their bunks.

"You've gotta be fucking joking," Jack muttered, his face buried into his pillow.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be capable of looking at a flight of stairs and not wincing ever again," Skittery added. "I'm so hurt, dude."

"There's gotta be a way out of this," Jack said, turning his head to look at Slingshot. "Like how you don't have to run suicides at football practice if you're on the track team," he suggested. "There's gotta be an after school club I can join to replace this."

"Oh, the after school club!" Slingshot replied, smacking himself lightly on the forehead. "I can't believe I forgot all about that!"

"Oh my god, does it actually exist?" Skittery asked, perking his head up so he could share a hopeful look with Jack.

"Sure does," Slingshot replied, nodding enthusiastically and smiled before glaring at them both. "It's called 'Get Off Your Fat, Lazy Fucking Asses and Get to Work, Ya Pussies'."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure no after school programs can use the word 'fucking' in their title," Skittery replied, slowly pulling himself up from the bed. "Also, that's a really long name."

"They use the acronym," Jack quipped from his own bed, pulling himself up as well.

"Goi-fla-fag-twip?" Skittery tried out before shaking his head. "Pretty sure an after school club can't use the word 'fag' in their name either, dude."

"I think it'd be 'goi-fla-fag-wip'," Jack replied. "There's no reason to throw the 'to' into the acronym, unless you're also going to include the 'and'. 'Goi-fla-fa-ag-twip," he tried.

"Just brings more attention to the 'fa-ag'," Skittery replied with a smirk.

"If you idiots have enough energy to argue over an imaginary club than you have enough energy to give me some pushups," Slingshot snapped as soon as Skittery and Jack had managed to sit up. "Twenty of 'em. Let's go."

"I think you might be Satan," Jack grumbled as he rolled off his bed and onto the floor.

Slingshot nodded at him as he took his cellphone out of his pocket. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. But I only took this job so that Spot would stop doing it," he admitted scrolling through his phone. "Training used to be way more sadistic when it was Spot running things."

"No doubt about that one," Skittery muttered as he started on his own pushups, thinking back to that dude he had practically murdered just because Spot asked him to. And wasn't that kind of a scary thought? How easily he had done just as Spot had asked, simply because he had been asked.

Slingshot smirked at him. "Ah, right, yeah, you already know about Spot's training program," he replied, before looking over at Jack. "And it seems like you're about to find out. The king requests your presence in the lobby," he said, holding up his cellphone and showing Jack the text.

"How many names does this guy have?" Jack muttered to himself as he gratefully halted his push ups.

"Wait a minute! No fair!" Skittery said, stopping his pushups to glare up at Slingshot. "He gets to skip training? I had to do both! This is unequal treatment of your workers!"

"Yeah, because Spot's got a complex about keeping everything perfectly equal for all parties involved," Slingshot scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"And he gets to meet him in the lobby? Jack doesn't even have to climb out through a window?" Skittery asked as Jack headed for the stairs. "That's fucked up, bro," he said to Slingshot before yelling at Jack's retreating back. "I hope you fall off a roof, Jack-ass!"

Itey glanced around the Jacobs' dining room table and felt every ounce of the tension in the room. Mrs. Jacobs was sending glares to Mr. Jacobs, Mr. Jacobs kept glaring at Sarah, Sarah was sending glares to David, David was sending Bumlets anxious glances, and Bumlets was sending him these god damn, infuriating smirks. Itey took it to mean that Bumlets was actually the brain behind this meet-the-parents thing. Using his love of David against him. That ingenious little bastard. "So, this is some really good, um," Itey tried, staring at the fish on his plate and wondering exactly what it was. "Cod?" he asked, looking between David's parents.

Mr. Jacobs just frowned at him.

"It's salmon, dear," Mrs. Jacobs said, smiling around the water glass she had lifted as soon as Itey had started speaking.

"Right, yeah, sorry, we don't-" Itey started, only to stop when he realized 'we don't eat dinner at my house' wasn't something he wanted to say to his girlfriend's parents. "... have fish much," he finally decided on.

"It's really good salmon," Bumlets said, finally deciding to save his friend. "I like the added lime," he said, pointing to the slices of fruit on his plate. "When I bake salmon I just use some lemon juice from those plastic lemon things."

"Best to get away from those," Mr. Jacobs said, finally taking a break from glaring at his daughter. "Real lemons give it a particular kick that you can't get from processed lemon juice."

"I didn't know you cooked, dear," Mrs. Jacobs said, smiling over at Bumlets.

Bumlets nodded. "Yeah. My parents … er, well they don't cook," he said, deciding that explaining that his parents were always too high to be trusted with the oven was probably something he should gloss over. "I figured if they weren't going to cook I had to." He shrugged. "Realized sometime around freshman year I kind of liked it."

Itey glared at Bumlets sitting across from him. God damn it, the dude was completely stealing his thunder. Sarah's parents were completely eating up Bumlets' stupid cooking thing, and Itey was left sitting around like a god damn idiot. This was not how this thing was supposed to go. "I do some cooking myself," Itey spoke up. He dutifully ignored Sarah's death stare.

"Do you now?" Mr. Jacobs asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "And what is it that you cook? I can guess it's not cod."

"Dear," Mrs. Jacobs interrupted, giving her husband a pointed look as she laid her hand on his wrist. "I think it's time for dessert, don't you?"

"Oh, I couldn't eat another bite," Bumlets replied, despite the fact that his plate was still half full and they had only been eating dinner for about ten minutes. "Everything was delicious though."

"You can't possibly be full after-" Mrs. Jacobs replied, only to be interrupted by her daughter.

"Oh, yeah, I'm pretty full myself," Sarah said, throwing down her fork and getting up from the table. "And I promised myself I'd fill out some college applications today, so-"

"Take a seat, young lady," Mr. Jacobs demanded in a dark voice.

"This sounds more like a family chat, so-" Itey said, getting out of his chair as soon as Sarah sat down in hers.

"Sit. Down," Mr. Jacobs growled out.

"Have I mentioned that my family's expecting me home tonight?" Itey asked, his eyes wide as he slowly sat back down in his seat. "And they'd be completely devastated if they had to go to the station to identify my dead body."

"David," Mrs. Jacobs said, turning to her son. "Maybe you'd like to show Bumlets your room?"

"Ah, yeah, sure, Mom," David answered, slowly getting up from his seat. "We, uh, actually have some homework to do." He sent a slight shrug Sarah's way when he caught her pleading look. "Bumlets, do you want to …?" he asked, pointing to the stairs.

"Oh, yeah, uh-huh," Bumlets replied, quickly getting up from his chair and heading up the stairs. He gave Itey a squeeze on the shoulder as he went.

David didn't speak until they reached the upstairs hallway. "That did not go the way I thought it would."

"That shit was way too intense, dude."

"You took me all the way out here so I could run a drug deal?" Jack asked, his hand gripping the baggy full of white powder that was now in his jacket pocket. "It feels like you didn't really need my help on this one, dude."

"It's not about helping me, Jackie-Boy, it's about seeing how far you're willing to go," Spot replied, hands laced behind his head as he walked beside Jack.

"Well, how far did Skittery go?"

"That's between Skittery and I."

"Did he go farther than me?"

Spot glared over at Jack. "It's not a competition, you idiot. And besides, you're being measured for different things, so comparing the two of you wouldn't make any sense."

"Well, what was Skittery being measured for?"

"That's between Skittery and I."

"Okay, so what am I being measured for?"

"How fucking annoying you can get," Spot snapped. "Jesus Christ, can you just shut the fuck up for once? Skittery didn't ask this many god damn questions."

"That's a good thing, though, right? That I ask questions?" Jack asked, still holding on to the bag in his pocket. "Means I'm aware of my surroundings."

"What the fuck are you trying to get at?" Spot asked, rolling his eyes. "You don't have to fucking advertise yourself. I already know who the fuck you are."

"I just want to make sure I get a cool job," Jack mumbled, kicking at a pebble he saw on the sidewalk as soon as he looked down.

"You'll get a job you're good at," Spot promised him. "Which can be cool all by itself."

Jack smiled and nodded at his boss. "That's pretty comforting, Bossman. I didn't realize you-"

"So don't be a dipshit and fuck it up," Spot continued, ignoring Jack's replied.

"... had a soft side." Jack finished his thought with a lot less enthusiasm.

"Also, whatever job you get won't have anything to do with situational awareness, because you're fucking god awful at it," Spot said.

"I'm not awful at-"

"You haven't even noticed we've been being followed by three different guys since we left the first alleyway, you fucking idiot."

"We're being-?"

"You certainly didn't fucking realize there was no money exchanged for that shit ton of coke in your pocket."

"There's no way we-"

"I mean, Jesus fuck, I even threatened the guy for Christ's sake. Why the fuck would I do that if I was buying the drugs?"

"I thought-"

"You better hope that your stupidity is counterbalanced with retard-strength. You're going to fucking need it because those three douchebags are closing in on us."

"What do you-?"

"Hope you're a good sprinter there, Jackie-Boy."

"I don't-"

"Ready?"

"No, I-"

"Let's go," Spot said, breaking into a sprint and leaving Jack behind. "I'll meet you at home. Make sure you don't lose any of the cocaine in your pocket," he shouted loudly as Jack ran behind him.

Jack looked behind him and, despite Spot's warning, felt his heart jolt as he saw three men running towards him. "Why would you-?"

"If you can't can't outrun 'em you better put that retard-strength to use," Spot said, smirking at Jack before he picked up speed and disappeared around a corner.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jack exclaimed as he pushed himself to run faster.

"Dude, you might have just invited Itey over to die," Bumlets said as soon as he was confident that he wouldn't be heard from downstairs. "I had no idea your father got that angry. Ever. Until today, anyway."

David plopped down on his computer chair before running his hands through his hair. "I know. I feel terrible. They've never acted like that to any of Sarah's boyfriends before."

"Well, I'm also willing to bet they've never caught one half naked on your sister's bed before either," Bumlets pointed out, walking over to lean on the desk David was sitting at.

"Sarah's probably going to shut me out all over again, too. No way she's going to let me in on her life after I messed up her new and exciting romance," he said, looking up at his friend. "We were just starting to get along again, you know? And I completely ruined it."

Bumlets put a hand on David's shoulder. "You've gotta relax, Davey. You haven't ruined anything yet. And Sarah isn't a petty little kid. If you explain things to her she'll probably understand."

"Hey, Sarah, sorry I outed your brand new relationship to our parents. Originally, I did it because I thought it'd be hilarious to put you and Itey under pressure, but once Mom and Dad put you two under pressure I started to develop a conscience," David tried out. "Yeah, I'm sure that'll work," he scoffed.

"I wouldn't use that exact phrasing," Bumlets suggested with a small grin on his face.

"She's going to kill me," David muttered.

"Least you'll be there to keep Itey company then, eh?" Bumlets asked, his smile growing.

David looked up and sighed at him. "This isn't exactly a joke to me, you know?"

"I know, Davey. Sorry," Bumlets replied, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "There's just not a whole lot you can do to make the situation any better right now, so I figured some jokes might help calm you down some?"

"Doubt a couple of jokes are going to make me forget that I'm completely neurotic," David muttered. "Thanks for trying though." He rubbed at his forehead. "I guess I just need a distraction is all."

"Before you suggest homework lemme ask you something," Bumlets said, going over to sit down on David's bed. He took a deep breath before continuing. "So, Bam asked me out."

"The guy who keeps following you around?"

"Right."

David squinted at him. "I'm gonna go ahead and guess that you didn't say 'no'."

Bumlets dropped his head into his hands and groaned. "He told me he would leave me alone after this," he said before looking up at David. "And I told him I'd go if I could bring a friend."

"Are you asking me on a date specifically to be the awkward third wheel that no one wants on their date?" David asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"I wouldn't use that exact phrasing," Bumlets replied, grinning up at David. "But, yeah, that's kind of the gist of it."

"You know, there are other ways to get him to leave you alone, right?" David asked. "Like, calling the cops, maybe? He hasn't let up before, what makes you think a date isn't going to encourage him more?"

Bumlets shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "His job … I mean, I really don't wanna call the cops on him, you know? It sounds …" He rubbed at the back of his head before shrugging. "I guess it just sounds harsh."

David leaned forward in his seat. "Bumlets, it's completely okay if you actually want to go on a date with this guy," he guessed.

"I'm not gay, David," Bumlets replied, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not saying that," David replied. "But maybe you're a little bit bisexual?"

"You can't be 'a little bit' bisexual, Davey."

"Of course you can," David argued. "Gay, straight, bisexual, they aren't hard lines drawn in the sand. It's more like a scale."

"A scale?" Bumlets asked, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.

"Yeah, it's pretty legitimate. A guy named Kinsey came up with the original idea," David said, nodding his head as he took out his phone to search for it. "I came across it when I was questioning my sexual identity."

"Sexual identity? Like, you wanna be a woman?" Bumlets asked, leaning in and frowning at his friend.

David rolled his eyes as he smiled. "That's gender identity, dude. Sexual identity is whether you're gay, straight, pans, you know, whatever," he explained with a shrug.

"What the fuck is 'pans'?"

"It's like a step up from bisexual," David told him. "Pansexuals love people regardless of gender and gender identity, whereas bisexuals are only attracted to the traditional male and female."

"How many other genders are out there for pansexual to even be a group that exists?" Bumlets asked.

"Well, you've got the traditional genders: male and female. Then you've got the transgendered: pre-op and post-op." David laughed when he caught Bumlets' wide eyes. "But we're getting off track," he said, handing Bumlets his phone. "So, Kinsey constructed this scale to explain sexual identity. Then, just recently, some other dude came along and expanded on it."

"Langdon Parks?" Bumlets asked as he read through the article. He looked up at David as he handed him the phone back. "Davey, I've got no idea what this scale's telling me. It's just a bunch of plot points."

"Yeah, the Kinsey scale is a lot easier to understand," David mumbled before perking back up. "But this one's a lot more fluid. It takes into account orientation and attraction type. And it argues that you can bounce around on the scale depending on your confidence levels and how horny you are, which are definitely things that should be taken into account, especially in your case."

Bumlets frowned at him. "So you're saying I want to go out with Bam because I'm too horny?"

No!" David exclaimed, hands in the air as he frowned back. "I'm saying it's perfectly alright to sexually identify with straight, but have a few men that are the exception to the rule. Sexual identity isn't black and white."

"So you're saying I should take Bam legitimately?" Bumlets ran a hand through his hair. "I don't think I could stand that guy if he actually thought he had a chance. He's impossible to deal with already."

David laughed. "I'm just saying don't write him off because there's some make believe invisible line you don't want to cross."

"So if I actually might kind of like this guy," Bumlets mumbled. "Not that I'm saying I do," he said quickly, looking up at David. "But if I did …"

"If you did it wouldn't make you gay," David assured him. "Being straight with homosexual leanings is a real thing."

"Homosexual leanings?" Bumlets asked, shaking his head. "God damn, I really don't want to have to explain that one to Skittery or Itey."

"You don't even necessarily need to put a label on it if it makes you uncomfortable," David said. "I'm just saying be open to this it you're actually going to do it. I can be your third wheel, but not if all you're trying to do is make him leave you alone. You've gotta give him a shot if you're going through with this."

Bumlets nodded. "I don't know what I am, man.," he answered quietly. "What if I say yes and start trying things, and it turns out the only reason I did it the first time was because I was drunk? I didn't exactly like sleeping with Dutchy, after all. Though that could have been because I was guilt-tripped into it. Or maybe I'm just not particularly attracted to him, but maybe I am to Bam, and I just don't realize it. But I don't want to say I'm going to take Bam seriously and then end up not having any … homosexual leanings. But I don't wanna say 'no' to a date and end up finding out I'm attracted to him after I missed my chance. And-"

David interrupted him with a laugh. "Is that what I sound like when I ramble? You don't have to figure everything out all at once, you know. And there is this thing called experimenting that exists."

"What, like, with you?" Bumlets asked, staring at his friend.

David shrugged at him. "Well, I am gay. And here. And I wouldn't particularly mind experimenting myself."

"I told you to run, not trip and fall on your face," Spot answered as he punched someone in the nose, sending him to the ground.

"I think you wanted to get me jumped!" Jack accused him, ducking a punch that was coming his way. He was bleeding from his forehead, blood dripping into his right eye and making him completely blind on his right side. "Why didn't you fucking tell me we were stealing drugs?"

"I thought your situational awareness would help you connect the dots," Spot snapped, dodging a punch from one man and kicking another in the stomach. "Plus, your face was pretty priceless there, Jackie-Boy. Thought you were going to shit yourself," he laughed.

"How is that funny?" Jack argued back, barely dodging a punch aimed for his right side. "That's not fucking funny. You're going to get me killed."

"I came back for you, you pussy ass bitch," Spot pointed out. "And you're nowhere close to dying. Last time I went out I got hit in the head with a god damn shovel."

"Is that supposed to be a comfort to me? Because it isn't," Jack replied, punching someone that had his attention focused on Spot. "I get violence, man. I mean, it is a gang and all. This is so fucking unnecessary though. If we're stealing drugs to turn around and sell them you don't have a very good business plan."

"I don't normally steal drugs. Just like I normally don't get hit in the head with shovels," Spot said, throwing someone over his shoulder and driving him head first into the ground. "I just wanted to know what you'd do if I gave you stolen drugs and told you to run." He laughed. "Slingshot said you'd probably try to give them back."

"What? That was an option?" Jack asked, pausing mid fight and allowing himself to get punched on the chin. He focused back in and blocked the next punch before going on the offensive.

"Why does no one think they have options anymore?" Spot muttered to himself. "You Manhatten boys must have some low self esteem problems or something," he told Jack. "Normally, when I tell new people to run with stolen drugs or beat somebody up they back out and run home. But you and Skittery jump on it like no one's business." He ducked a punch and kicked at the back of the guy's knee, sending him down before stomping on his chest. "I've gotta find more guys from Manhattan. I guess you guys aren't all pussies after all."

"Gee, what a compliment," Jack grumbled, looking around when he realized everyone but Spot and him were on the ground. "You're saying the only reason we stole these drugs is so you could find out what I'd do?"

Spot shrugged at him. "Kind of," he admitted. "I also don't really like these guys," he said, kicking an already-unconscious man in the gut. "Thought it'd be fun if I had an excuse to beat them up."

"And this was supposed to measure what, exactly? How fast I can run?"

Spot rolled his eyes. "How loyal you are, you stupid idiot. You'll be happy to know you passed." He held out his hand. "Now, give me the drugs."

"I am not helping you sell stolen drugs," Jack replied, crossing his arms and glaring at Spot.

"I was going to dump it on their heads for an extra 'fuck you'," Spot told him with a smirk.

"Oh," Jack replied, blinking a few times. "Well, yeah, I guess I could help you do that."

"So you expect us to believe that you started dating after we found you in our little girl's room?" Mr. Jacobs snapped at Itey.

Itey flinched, looking at Sarah and her mother for support and getting none. "Well, yes, I mean, I would expect you to believe the truth, right?"

"Don't be a dick, Itey," Sarah muttered to him. "You're just making this worse."

"Don't cuss, Sarah," her mother broke in before looking at her husband. "And you can stand to be a little less skeptical."

"Again, this seems to be more like a family conversation, so …" Itey said, getting up from his seat with his hands up. "I can just-"

"Sit. Down, Itey," Mr. Jacobs growled again.

"Yes, sir," Itey replied, nodding his head once as he sat back down.

"Whether you're going out or not it is not acceptable behavior for you to be in my daughter's room with the door locked at all," Mr. Jacobs lectured, "let alone without a shirt on."

"We weren't doing anything," Itey promised. "Swear. I'm innocent."

"And I should believe that on what grounds?" Mr. Jacobs asked.

"I can't believe you," Sarah interrupted, glaring at her father. "You'd never treat David like this."

"I've never seen a girl half dressed in David's room either," Mr. Jacobs snapped back.

"Boy, dear," Mrs. Jacobs corrected.

"Huh?"

"If you saw a girl half dressed in David's room it wouldn't really be a big deal," Itey explained. "Dude's pretty gay. So is Bumlets, even if he doesn't know it yet. And yet you just let them both go upstairs. All alone."

Mr. Jacobs stared at him for a minute before jerking out of his chair and heading up the stairs. "I'm going to make sure his door's open," he told his wife.

"We're just worried about you two," Mrs. Jacobs explained, looking across the table at the two teenagers. "We want you to be safe and careful, and seeing you two together, in that way-"

"It wasn't in any kind of way though!" Sarah exclaimed, glaring at her mother. "I already told you that. We weren't doing anything!"

"We believe you, hunny. It's just-"

"What do you think you're doing?" Mr. Jacobs' yell traveled across the dining room table.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Jacobs whispered to herself, her eyes wide before she darted upstairs.

"Sorry about all this," Sarah said quietly as soon as her mom was out of site. "We aren't even going out. This is so embarrassing. I'm going to kill David the next chance I get."

"You sure this was David's idea?" Itey asked. "Bumlets was smirking at me during that whole dinner. I think he might've planned it, and then talked David into implementing it because he knew I wouldn't trust him if he was the one to suggest it. He's been pretty wound up lately, too. Probably took a shit ton of pleasure in making me uncomfortable. I don't think I've been through something more awkward than this."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean," Sarah replied. "I'm surprised you haven't bolted, actually. I would've bet money on you faking a heart attack or something."

"I thought about it, but ambulances are so god damn expensive," Itey answered, smirking at her.

"Ah, good point, I hadn't thought about that."

"I was thinking maybe committing a petty crime before I got here, then turning myself in as soon as we started dinner. Cop rides are free, after all. Bumlets refused to make any pit stops though."

"Probably already figured out your plan," Sarah replied.

"Man, I hope I'm not getting predict-" Itey began, only to stop when Mr. Jacobs pulled a shirtless Bumlets in by the ear, a red-faced David following closely behind. Itey couldn't help but smirk at his friend as he sat down beside him. "There's something about the Jacobs, amirite?"

"We weren't doing anything, Dad," David started to explain before he even took a seat. He gave Bumlets back his shirt while refusing to make eye contact with anyone in the room.

"I didn't realize making out with a boy in your room while your door was closed was considered nothing," Mr. Jacobs snapped.

"We were experimenting," Bumlets muttered quietly to Itey in response to the smirk that was being sent his way.

"I have yet to make out with Itey," Sarah declared. "Just putting that one out there."

"Dude, don't tell people that; you're ruining my street cred," Itey chastised.

"You better not have any street cred if you're dating my daughter!" Mr. Jacobs snapped.

"Daaad!" Sarah whined. "We aren't even dating! And stop acting like Itey isn't a good guy just because you misunderstood the situation!"

David raised his hand, talking quietly when he had received everyone's attention. "For the record, Bumlets and I aren't going out either."

"You are the best straight, gay man-whore I've ever met in my entire life," Itey mumbled to Bumlets quiet enough that no one else could hear.

"Whether or not you're going out isn't-" Mr. Jacobs started, only to be interrupted by his wife once again.

"You and Sarah are both growing up so fast," Mrs. Jacobs began, "and in a world that's a lot different than the world your father and I grew up in." She shot a warning glance to her husband before bringing her attention back to the teenagers sitting across from her. "I think it's time we come to terms with the fact that you don't need to be dating someone in order to commit sexual acts with them. And I think it's time we set down some new ground rules in light of this. And I believe we're all mature enough adults that we'll be able to keep this calm and quick." She shot her husband another warning glance.

Skittery had just got down to the basement when he was called back upstairs. As if the two-hour training session wasn't enough, he also had to walk up and down those damn crumbling cement stairs. Though he had been planning on skipping dinner specifically to avoid the steps, so maybe it was a good thing he had company. He skipped dinner last night, too. After breaking a kid's bones and leaving him probably-paralyzed for the rest of his life it turned out you didn't really have an appetite afterward.

Skittery's stomach turned over at the thought of that guy face down on the ground, moaning in pain. Skittery had done that to him, simply because Spot had asked him to. And he was willing to do it again. What kind of a person did that make him?

"Skittery!" Blink greeted as soon as the other boy had gotten outside. "How you doing? I heard you went to school today, but I didn't see you in class."

"Yeah, well, something came up." Skittery shrugged at him, wincing when all it produced was an ache in his shoulders.

Blink frowned at the wince. "You okay? Se-Spot," he corrected, quickly looking around the empty parking lot. "Spot didn't do anything to you, did he?"

"You know, we're supposed to have snipers on site to shoot people like you," Skittery said, avoiding the question instead of trying to figure out how to answer it.

"So he did do something to you?" Blink asked, guessing why Skittery had skipped over the question. "What'd he do?" he took a step closer to Skittery only for Skittery to take a step back.

"Why are you here, Blink? This place isn't exactly safe for you, you know?" Skittery replied, avoiding the question yet again.

Blink sighed. "I'm here because I'm concerned about you," he admitted. "You haven't exactly been level headed as of late, and I'm worried you're making the wrong decisions because of it."

"My decisions are just fine, thanks," Skittery replied, crossing his arms and glaring at his friend. "So, if that was everything, I've got some shit I need to go take care of."

"Well, that wasn't it," Blink snapped before sighing and forcing himself to calm down. "Mush, Itey, and I were planning on playing some poker tomorrow night. I thought it'd be good if you could come."

Skittery rolled his eyes. "You sure Itey wouldn't rather have Sarah there?" he asked, glaring at Blink for even making the suggestion.

"Mush and I would rather have you there," Blink answered. "And you aren't fooling anyone into thinking you don't want Itey back. A good first step to doing that might be to actually talk to the guy."

"I don't need you meddling around in my shit, Blink," Skittery snapped, glaring at his friend. "I'm perfectly capable of dealing with this all by myself."

"Right, yeah, totally proved that when you threatened Sarah and called her a cunt in front of the whole school," Blink muttered loud enough for Skittery to hear him.

"Yeah, well, that's because she was being one," Skittery insisted, no longer looking Blink in the eye.

Blink just sighed again. "Look, I think it'd be sweet if you showed up. Mush's parents will be out of town until Sunday morning, so we're meeting over there around seven. It's an open invitation."

"Well, don't plan on me showing up," Skittery replied. "It sounds stupid, and I got things I need to do around here." He started heading back inside. "Thanks for coming all this way for absolutely no reason. I suggest you don't do it again, 'cause once we get this sniper situation taken care of your head'll get blown off if you so much as set foot in the parking lot."

"So, I guess this means I passed your test, huh?" Jack asked as he shared a cigarette with Spot as they headed back home.

"Passed the first test, yeah," Spot answered, taking a hit off the cigarette Jack offered him before giving it back. "You did alright, I guess. That right hook you sent the first dude was pretty sweet. I think I saw some of his brain leaking out of his ear."

That made Jack freeze. "You don't think I killed him, do you?"

Spot rolled his eyes. "Who cares? He's not important. What's with the hang up of killing some nobody?"

"Well, Jesus, maybe because it'd make me a murderer," Jack snapped back.

"His life or yours, Jackie-Boy. That's how it always is," Spot lectured. "Best to get over that moral hiccup as soon as you can. You're in a gang now, if you haven't noticed. This is how we do things."

"You purposely make new recruits go around killing people?" Jack asked. "That's twisted, dude. Did Skittery kill someone when you took him out yesterday?"

"Stop being so concerned about fucking Skittery," Spot snapped. "It's annoying."

"He's my friend."

"He's your family," Spot corrected. "And he's my family, so I'll take care of him. Start fucking trusting me."

"Forcing people into moral dilemmas aren't helping them," Jack pointed out. "And, in case you haven't noticed, Skittery isn't in a good place right now."

"And you think coddling him is going to fix it? You going to kiss all his booboos and lie about how it'll all be better soon?" Spot asked. "Skittery's fine. If the worst thing that's happened in his life so far is that he fucked up a relationship he's got a lot more to be thankful for than most people around here. Stop trying to take care of people to avoid your own fucking problems."

"That's not what I'm doing," Jack insisted. "I'm just-"

"Concerned, yeah, so you've said," Spot interrupted, starting to move towards their hotel again. "Deal with your own shit however you want, just don't bring me into it. I've got more concerns than Lover Boy's fucking heart break."

"Being there for someone while they're going through an emotional time is part of taking care of them," Jack lectured as he started following behind Spot.

"Spare me from your emotional bullshit speech," Spot replied. "Take care of him emotionally if that's what your pussy ass wants to do, but he's going to have an easier time of it if you just leave him alone to deal with it himself."

"You don't know that."

"I'll be waiting for you to prove me wrong then," Spot answered, turning around to grab Jack's cigarette and taking another hit.

"Well, that was the most awkward conversation I've ever had in my entire life," Itey said as soon as they were allowed to leave the dining room. They were sitting in the living room, as bedrooms were now for 'platonic friends only'.

"I know," Sarah groaned. "They didn't even listen when I kept trying to tell them that we weren't dating."

"Yeah, I wish you wouldn't have done that," Itey admitted. "I think it just made your dad hate me even more."

"I'm not going to lie to him that we're dating just to have you dump me in a week when Skittery asks for you back," Sarah told him.

"I'm not going to do that!" Itey declared loudly.

"Please," Sarah replied, rolling her eyes. "You guys've been broken up for, like, a week now. Best case scenario I'm a rebound until something better comes along."

"You aren't a rebound, and nothing better's going to come along because there isn't anything better," Itey said, taking a hold of Sarah's hand.

"Itey, c'mon, cut the crap," Sarah said, pulling her hand away. "We haven't talked about Skittery once. In fact, you avidly avoid the subject, even though I know you aren't over him yet. And he's certainly not over you. And, yet, you were content to jump straight into this … whatever it is, with me for, what? Distraction?"

"Because I genuinely like you!"

Sarah sighed at him. "Okay, fine, where do I rank then? Am I above or below Skittery on this scale?"

"You're above him! Definitely and absolutely!"

"So, if Skittery came up to you right now, and he declared his love for you, apologized for everything he put you through, and promised he'd always be there for you, you would do what, exactly?"

"I'd tell him to fuck off," Itey promised. "Not that he would ever do that anyway. He's not that type of person. He's never going to apologize or promise me anything."

"I didn't ask if he would, Itey. I asked what would happen if he did," Sarah said, sighing again. "And you telling me that you'd tell him to 'fuck off' just because you never think he'll say it to you? That's not a good answer."

"You just don't understand Skittery," Itey tried to explain. "He's impossible to put up with as far as an intimate relationship goes. He's never going to be there emotionally for me like I want, so it's time to move on and find something better. And that something better is you,"

"Itey, you haven't even done any shopping around yet," Sarah pointed out. "You just jumped on the first thing you saw. And we both know you only did it to try and forget about Skittery."

It was Itey's turn to sigh as he ran his hands through his hair. "Okay, look, fine, I admit it," he finally said, not looking Sarah in the eyes. "I love Skittery, I really do. But just because I love him doesn't mean that we have a healthy relationship. It doesn't mean that what we've been putting each other through is healthy. In fact, looking back on it, I'd probably even categorize it as an emotionally abusive relationship."

"I'd probably lean more towards an emotionally stunted relationship," Sarah argued. "Still bad, but something you two might be able to work through if Skittery stops being a cunt rag."

Itey shook his head. "I don't want to work on anything with him, Sarah. I told you, 'I'm done.' I don't want to deal with any more of his shit. I don't want an emotionally-repressed boyfriend who can't even tell me he cares about me."

"I understand that, but that doesn't make you want Skittery any less. And if his threats are anything to go by he feels the same way about you," Sarah replied, reaching over for Itey's hand. "And until you two find some sort of closure this thing with us isn't going to be official." She smiled at him, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "I'm sorry, Itey. I really was prepared to fight for you," she said before giving a humorless laugh. "But, I guess tonight I realized that I can fight Skittery off as much as I want, but that's not going to change your feelings about him."

"So, I'll give him closure then," Itey promised, turning his hands palm up so he could capture Sarah's hand that was on top of his. "And once I do you'll be the first to know. And we can go on another first date where I pull out your chair and hold open all the doors for you. Maybe it'll even have rained during the day so I can put my jacket on top of a puddle for you."

Sarah smiled at him, despite the fact that she didn't believe any of it. "Sure, Itey, that sounds really nice."

TBC

Okay, no one get used to these quick updates. I went on an epic writing binder, but a break for me is fast approaching. I can't keep up this speed at all. Haha. Please review if you have time. I love hearing from all of you. :)