As your castle crumbles down (with Jackson)

[Jacob Tapper]

Jacob Tapper walked quickly, resolutely, down the hallway that stretched from the cafeteria to the gymnasium. The tall, wide corridor was lined with lockers, and the brunet could hear the metallic sounds of locker doors opening and closing as he walked. There were many students around him - some on their way to lunch, others on the way to class, still others lingering in the hallways seemingly without purpose - but Jake deftly maneuvered around them without acknowledgment. He was a man on a mission.

The transdimensionalist had been sitting in the cafeteria with some of his teammates and some of his other friends, eating lunch and trying to ignore the conversation at his table and several others. Jackson had been busted for breaking and entering into some abandoned building, and evidently the entire school had nothing better to do than to spread gossip about what he was doing, who he was with, and what kind of trouble he would get into. The more Jake listened, the angrier he got. When one of his players - and yes, they were his, as he was captain of the team now that he was a senior - got into trouble, it made the whole team look bad. And given the kind of trouble he was supposedly in, their team might be down a player for the foreseeable future.

Finally, the eighteen-year-old had had enough. Fuming, he stood up, leaving his trash on the table and swinging his backpack almost violently over his shoulder before departing from his present company. When he was angry, the only thing he wanted to do was take it out on some dumbbells or a backboard. And God help whoever disturbed him while he was doing so.

Arriving at the gym, he descended down the stairs and into the locker room with the intention of changing into his gym clothes so he wouldn't get his regular clothes sweaty. As luck would have it, though, there was one other boy in the locker room. And of course, it had to be the same boy who was also the source of his current angst.

Eyebrows furrowed, Jake's paces slowed as he approached the other. "Of all the locker rooms, in all the boarding schools, in all the world, he walks into mine," he said, out loud but to himself, satirizing the famous quote from 'Casablanca.' It expressed both his incredulity that Jackson happened to be exactly where Jake had come to escape from hearing about Jackson, as well as his exasperation at the mere sight of the boy. "Did you climb in through the window to get here?" The question was sarcastic, antagonistic, and obviously unproductive, but Jake had some anger to release.

[Deleted]

It’s funny how rumors so quickly spread from one person to the next in a high school. One would hear a tale from an unnamed source, and then iterate their own version or what they could remember or what they interpreted from hearing it themselves to someone else, or even a small crowd of people. Then those 3 or 5 students would repeat the process in kind. It was mathematics, really. Assuming a person only told the story once to two people, for every one story, there created two more. From those two, there were created four more, thus having seven total. From those four, came eight, equalling fifteen, and so on. The number of possible different stories which can come from one telling in the rumor mill was exponential in nature.

And Jackson hated it.

It had made him the center of attention in a way that he enjoyed the least. Rather than being the good natured, helpful teacher's pet with straight A, he’d suddenly become the bleach-blond, punk criminal with average grades, all in the course of one night. So over the course of a few days, he’d predictably gone from being a star player on the basketball team, to being kicked off for behavior unbecoming….well, pretty much unbecoming of everything Jackson was trying to be.

The rumors must’ve reached the school administrators…but they were given the true story by the authorities who mattered. Breaking curfew, breaking and entering…all acts that yielded some form of punishment, even if he wasn’t formally charged on account of being a minor…the position he and Kodi were found in was beside the point to them…though honesty, it was the entire point for him.

He fiddled with the lock on his locker for a good five minutes before it would finally open, courtesy of his blurred up eyes. His last act was to clean out his locker, and return the lock and towel to the supply room. Jackson didn’t want to part with any of it. It was a matter-of-course that the person who would intrude on him while he was trying to slip out discreetly was that asshole Jake. “I still go to school here,” he growled to what he guessed was supposed to be a clever quip. “You’re bound to pass me in the halls at some point too.” Jackson stuffed his smelly uniform into his duffle bag like he was trying to beat and blame it for all his problems in life. “Get used to it,” he said, glaring at the older brunet. “The school is full of screw-ups you’d be too disgusted to share the same airspace with.” He didn’t respond to the sarcasm. The locker room didn’t even have windows. “Did you have nothing better to do than track me down and terrorize me like the white privileged brat you are?”

[Jacob Tapper]

Jake hadn't expected his snide remarks to be taken in stride, but he was nevertheless surprised by the other boy's outburst. If he knew Jackson a little better, he'd realize that this was the most genuine Jackson had been in a long time - that the nice, quiet pretty-boy eager to do his homework for him was a facade rather than his actual personality. But hell, he'd had sex with the kid - how much better could he be expected to know him?

The brunet didn't really know what Jackson meant about the school being 'full of screw-ups.' As far as Jake was aware - and he considered himself to be fairly in-the-know - there weren't a lot of kids who went around breaking laws regularly. (From what Jake had heard through the grapevine, this wasn't Jackson's first time breaking into the house - but then again, could he believe that information?). On the other hand, they didn't move in the same social circles, so it was possible Jackson knew a whole other group of rule-breakers Jacob hadn't yet had the displeasure of meeting. Like whatever idiot had convinced him that entering a house that wasn't theirs was a good idea.

The senior's eyes widened, mouth opening slightly in disbelief. "Privilege?" He asked incredulously. "This is about privilege now?" He took a step closer to Jackson, shoving his pointer finger in the boy's face. "You broke a fucking law, what the fuck did you expect?!" The question came out louder and more forceful than he'd anticipated, but perhaps he was angrier than he'd realized. He was losing one of his players, and the younger, shorter boy had just called him a brat. Obviously, Jake did not believe he was a brat at all; and while he'd prefer to let the insult slide off his back, he couldn't fathom why Jackson was insulting him like he deserved to be. Jake wasn't the one who had done anything wrong. Jackson had no right to be angry.

[Deleted]

Jackson was…tired. He was weary from being the good boy all the time, and he just didn’t have the energy or even the will to put up with this guy’s shit with a smile. He didn’t hate the guy, honestly, but Jake hadn’t given the blond much reason to think highly of him either. Of course he would come in here and take some moral high ground, as if he were any better of a person than Jackson was.

Then again, Jake hadn’t committed any crimes….though sex for homework could be considered prostitution, but that was only if both boys admitted to it. Otherwise it was completely and mutually consensual. Jake hadn’t gone out and graffitied playground walls when he needed a breather from life. He hadn’t broken into some guys shed and stolen things from it. Jackson would guess that this guy hadn’t even drank alcohol or smoked before. Just because they didn’t have laws against being a dickwad, didn’t mean that made Jake a better person in any right.

And that’s where this talk of privilege had spawned out of. Jackson knit his eyebrows in frustrated disbelief. “Oh my God, I insulted you because you came in and started on harping on me with bullshit, and now you’re making it about you. For your information, that’s what makes you a white privileged brat, you thinking that any of this has anything to do with you.” Jackson took a breath after his rant, his face flush and hot and feeling like it was going to pop a vein at any moment, then turned away again. “Just…leave me alone,” he said bitterly. “I’ll be gone soon enough. I’m sure you can wait the next two minutes it’ll take me to get out of here forever.” Such dramatics, but didn’t want to hear the same lecture he’d already heard a dozen times already from someone as vain as this jackass…

[Jacob Tapper]

Jake was certainly no criminal. If a consensual exchange of sex and homework was against the law, then the finger of blame could be squarely pointed at Jackson, whose idea it had been in the first place. But the brunet didn't see any harm in what had passed between them; they both got something they wanted, and nobody had been hurt in the process, so what was so bad? In fact, it probably said more about the two boys' lack of character that they could share such an intimate moment together and then simply walk away from it like nothing had happened. So neither of them was Gentleman of the Year, but nor did that make them felons.

But then again, Jake did make a habit of attending parties where alcohol was served... as well as hosting parties where alcohol was served, and partaking liberally in the offerings. So perhaps he wasn't above breaking rules. But underage drinking was, in Jake's view, not such a big deal - an obviously self-serving opinion, but it was his nonetheless. If Jackson didn't know that about Jake, then the blond really was 'dickstracted' because it wasn't exactly a secret around campus.

The taller male's brow furrowed as Jackson went in on him. "It does have to do with me," he stated. "I don't give a rat's ass what you do in your spare time, or how many guys you go around fucking, but when you're on MY team I expect you and everyone else to represent us well." This was an obvious power play, but there was truth to it: the entire team looked bad when one of them messed up, especially when it was in a very public way and resulted in the entire team being put at a competitive disadvantage.

His tone softened. "Forever?" He repeated. "What the hell do you mean, forever?" Either Jackson was planning on running away - in which case he was a lot less smart than Jake had thought - or he meant he'd never be in the locker room again because he'd never be on the team again. And that, Jake simply wouldn't have. "What do you know?" He looked at the other boy earnestly, eyes boring in on him like he was owed the information.

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Jackson stared at his ‘captain’ with that same look of wonder and disbelief. Just how incredibly self-centered could this guy get? “Right, right…” he said with a patronizing nod. “I’m the one who got the criminal record. I’m the one who got fucking outed as being a goddamn fag. I’m the one whose future was completely ruined and probably doesn’t have a chance of going to college anymore….and you’re worried about how bad it makes you look.” Jackson scoffed. “And yet, somehow, I’m sure by next week, you’ll have forgotten about this completely, and you’ll be winning games again in no time. Your world continues on like nothing ever happened….” Meanwhile, Jackson’s was completely demolished. And apparently Jake still thought it was about him. “Forgive me if I don’t give a rat’s ass about how you look.”

The blond took a few breaths, trying to compose himself after his outburst…but the emotions were running too high to get this shaking feeling in his bones to calm even the slightest. And that Jake wanted him to explain what he meant with his (as he saw it) obvious words, only made it worse. “Forever….it means exactly what it means, you need a goddamn dictionary?” Jake really was an idiot. Well, Jackson should’ve known, he couldn’t even do his homework himself. Jackson tightened his jaw until his mouth was filled with the ferrous taste of blood, and he lowered his head, his eyes hard and unyielding. He breathed hard through his nose several times before he finally spoke again. “……..I’m off the team,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. Jackson swallowed, his throat feeling like it was lined with sandpaper, while his eyes started to burn. “Y-you won’t…have to worry about me making you look bad anymore anyway, so just….” Jackson refused to blubber like a weakling in front of this ass, but that unfortunately didn’t stop his eyes from welling up. “L-leave me the fuck alone…” he finally managed to get out.

[Jacob Tapper]

Jake's eyes narrowed stubbornly as Jackson rattled off a list of how the blond would be negatively affected by his arrest; he knew the other boy was completely right, but he was too prideful to admit that this was none of his business and that how he would be inconvenienced by what was happening to Jackson paled greatly in comparison to what Jackson himself was going through.

When the Korean boy asked if he needed a dictionary, he folded his defined arms over his chest, giving the other male a look that said 'That's enough,' a look that likely went unnoticed but that he felt he was entitled to give. He was starting to get sick of all of the allusions and references to his stupidity. Sure, he wasn't the brightest student at Hammel - but clearly Jackson wasn't either if he was stupid enough to break into someone else's house. Besides, it was only math that Jake had trouble with, and Jackson was treating him like he was, well, retarded. He didn't get a chance to voice this frustration, though, because Jackson's mood was changing in a way Jake really didn't like.

Jake didn't have much experience with crying people. As a kid, his father had raised him to be tough, which naturally for a man meant never showing one's emotions. His older sister never cried that he could remember, either - it wasn't rewarded in their household. In fact, the only time Jake could remember being confronted with a crying person was when Bunny cried a few weeks ago. This was different, though; this was worse, because it was a guy and because it was about something much more serious than whether Jake liked Bunny's cookies, or whatever that had all been about.

Jackson had a problem Jake couldn't solve with his physical strength, his aggressive masculinity, or his charm - the three traits he most readily fell back upon when presented with a challenge. He would instead have to rely on his words. That did not bode well.

"Look, uh, just calm down," he said, assuming Jackson was only crying because he was being overly emotional. Guys didn't just cry for whatever. "It'll be fine." These words were, for the moment, entirely empty: Jake had no idea what could make this fine. "You'll get into college no problem. There are a million schools out there. And I'm sure nobody will care you have a criminal record; you're young, kids make mistakes. And, uh, about the gay thing..." Jake brought his hand up to his own neck, rubbing it out of nervous habit. "At least we're in Vermont, right?" He offered a weak smile that said 'Hey, I tried?'

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Jackson was tired of curbing his words. He was tired of being the ‘nice guy’. He had too many other things to think about, too much stress going on, to keep up the good boy act, so if Jake was expecting tact, he was looking for it in exactly the wrong place.

Jackson just didn’t care anymore. Not when every single goddamn thing that made him happy seemed to be ripped away from him one by one since…summer? No, it was before that. First, his dad. Then his mom. Then grams. It’s true that basketball didn’t even compare to the pain of losing his family, but it was one of the few vices he had that helped get him through those hard times. It was stability for him, something that grounded him when his world seemed to be spinning out of control. And now he didn’t even have that anymore. He probably wasn’t going to be able to rejoin the soccer team either when it started back up.

The last time Jackson had cried, to be honest, was when his grandmother passed. Before that, when Rue had beaten that other student in front of him. Before that….Jackson couldn’t even remember. He wasn’t a person who let his emotions get the better of him on a regular basis. Like Jake, he was brought up in a family that expected absolute machismo from it’s boys. Only girls cried, and when they did, you best hold her until she stopped and made her feel like the most beautiful fucking princess on earth. It was the man’s job to be strong, because the girls couldn’t be.

While he knew he should be appreciative that Jake was even trying to be sympathetic…not so much sympathetic, but trying to comfort him…Jackson just didn’t have the energy to care. Jackson stared at Jake blankly, the dampness still in his eyes and laughed quietly. “You’re terrible at this,” he said, wiping one of his eyes with the palm of his hand. It was a good thing Jackson wasn’t expecting much from Jake. Or anything at all. “I’m tired of this…” he muttered, looking up as he slammed his former locker closed, having finished emptying it completely.

[Jacob Tapper]

Jake wasn't good at providing comfort, but he didn't have a lot of practice: not many people in his life needed comforting. His father was a big, tough guy, his mother a proud and resourceful woman. His older sister was smarter and more motivated than he was, and his friends were mostly jock types who never talked about their feelings. So it wasn't often that Jake had to even witness someone crying, let alone actually empathize.

The brunet tilted his head when Jackson told him he was 'terrible at this.' Well, at least the blond understood and acknowledged what Jake was trying to do. He couldn't imagine what Jackson expected of him: sure, the words were empty, but what could he possibly say or do to make his (former) teammate feel better, when he was obviously in a horrible situation?

Jake's eyes moved over to their coach's office, which was just off the locker room. Coach wasn't there, so the door was closed and the room was dark. But the cogwheels started turning in Jake's mind. When Jackson said he was tired, Jake assumed he was still talking about basketball, since he didn't know anything about the boy's parents or grandmother or whatever else he had going on. "Don't be tired," he said, glancing back at the Korean. "Look... Come to practice on Monday," he said, taking a step towards the other boy. "Just show up, okay? You don't have to do anything. Just be there." He looked down at the shorter male. "Got it?"

Not that Jake was at all confident in his own skills of persuasion, but he might be able to convince their coach that permanent expulsion from the team was overkill. He was captain, after all, so surely he had some amount of sway. And they'd be down a player without Jackson, which Coach wouldn't want. Jackson might be skeptical of Jake's ability to help him, but maybe the 'privileged brat' could still be the hero of this story.

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There wasn’t a lot that Jake could do to make everything better. Actually, there was pretty much, if not completely, nothing he could do at all. This was Jackson’s problem in the first place. It would honestly help the best if Jake just left it alone and let Jackson deal with it without his input. Without the snark, the ridicule, or the constant reminder that Jackson was turning out to be the fuck up that everyone expected him to become eventually. He could hear the words of contempt his family would be spouting to him already.

Jackson shook his head, amazed by Jake’s…..whatever it was he was trying to do. “I’ll be whatever I want, thank you very much,” he said with a scoff. He shook his head at Jake’s suggestion. Or ‘order’, rather. He dipped his head and chuckled like it was the most ridiculous idea ever. “Yeah, you know what? I don’t want to. I’m tired of trying all right?” Jackson gruffed out a small sound of frustration as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “It’s just….it’s not worth it anymore…..” he muttered, his eyes dropped to the floor. Jackson really didn’t feel like telling Jake what ‘it’ was. Jake didn’t know that it wasn’t just about basketball, and Jackson wasn’t sure he wanted to explain it either. He wouldn’t understand it anyway.

[Jacob Tapper]

It unnerved Jake to see Jackson looking so defeated and deflated: Jake was the kind of boy who never gave up, though it was easy to be that way when he pretty much always got what he wanted (which, in turn, was easy when one didn't ask for much). He was ready to stick his neck out for the other boy - to a certain extent, at least - but he didn't want to do that if the blond didn't show the slightest interest in standing up for himself and his right to stay on the team.

"Look." He put his hand on Jackson's shoulder, unsure as to whether that was supposed to be a comforting gesture, or to keep him from walking away - likely both. "I know we have... no relationship whatsoever. And I haven't given you any reason to have faith in me. But I need you to trust me." This statement alone underscored how odd it was that Jake even cared enough to help Jackson remain on the team. For the most part, it came back to himself: Jake wanted his team to look good, and that required having a full roster of players. Lord knew having a winning season would help him get into college, since he wasn't acing every class (as Jackson knew). But maybe there was more to it: maybe Jake felt that, as a young man of integrity, he should try to help someone when he could, particularly given the brief but intimate history the two boys shared. Yes, this could be another case of the Big Strong White Man trying to save the day, but if it benefited them both, what did it matter what his intentions were? They had used that same exact rationalization before, and to delightful end.

"Just show up on Monday," he repeated. "I'll never ask anything of you again." He couldn't know that was true, but he also couldn't think of anything he could ever want from Jackson - at least, anything he hadn't already gotten once or twice. He wondered if giving Jackson another of his 'earnest looks' would seal the deal, and decided he might as well try. "Deal?"