Mismatched (boyxboy) ✓

Fourteen

When Zachary left school, he had gone straight to Jordan's where he told Nolan to take him. There was no one there, and he wasn't going to risk going to his own home because of the rocky relationship with his dad. As soon as he went inside, he found Nolan standing in front of Jordan, who was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs. Tristan was there, too, but he didn't waste any time in wondering why or how he had gotten the information that brought him there in the first place. Zachary's stumbling and squeaking shoes across the linoleum gave him away before he could say anything. Tristan turned, an accusing brow raised, and Nolan only stared before backing up. He ignored them both and went straight to where Jordan was. If he had been looking up before, Zachary didn't know. Jordan's gaze was trained on the floor.

Zachary tried to tilt his chin up when he was close, but Jordan snatched away. The glasses that were usually perched on his face were gone. "Don't," he said, voice low as Zach reached towards him.

"What did you do to him now?" A hard shove came from behind, but Zachary knew it was from Tristan. "You hit him and leave him in the bathroom for someone else to find?" Tristan took hold of the back of Zachary's shirt and pulled him.

Zachary shouldered his hand off and turned around with an indignant look blazing in his eyes. "Keep your fucking hands off me. I did not do this." He stared at Tristan for a second before turning towards the hand that now tapped his shoulder. It was Nolan, holding out a warm rag to him. Nolan's features shifted to a surprised expression now that he could see his friend's beaten face up close. He took it with as thankful of a look as he could manage and turned back to Jordan. The hair on his hung towards the floor, following in the direction of one of the tiles he had to have been staring at. Zachary tried again. "Jordan, sweetheart," he said quietly, resting his free hand on the other's knee. "Look at me." There was resistance, but he was able to get Jordan's face up enough to see the pained expression in his eyes.

What he saw in the picture wasn't what he saw now. The blood that stained Jordan's nose and mouth had been wiped clean. Fuck, Nolan, thank you. Jordan's glasses were gone, but there was a small cut on the corner of his eye where the frame had been attached to the tiny hinge. Zachary dabbed at the cut. It no longer bled, and he wiped along the places he knew had already been cleaned. Jordan looked everywhere but him. "Look at me," he urged again, resting the rag on Jordan's lower lip where it had been torn.

It felt like another minute passed before Jordan looked up. His eyes widened, but it didn't surprise Zachary. "What happened to you?" Jordan whispered, reaching out with a trembling hand. Zachary shook his head and caught the hand in his other.

"Doesn't matter what happened to me," he said. Zachary lowered Jordan's hand and laid it palm down on his knee. "I'm so sorry, Jordan, I had no idea." There was nothing, no indication that Shawn had been lurking or watching. What had he heard? What had he seen? And how had he slipped in behind Zachary unnoticed? Shawn lumbered around like a clumsy bear, it was impossible not to hear him.

"Zach..."

The timid voice made him turn around. It was Nolan. Zachary only looked at him. "What, um, happened?" Nolan looked between him and Jordan, a questioning look on his face. "I ran from class as soon as I got your message and..." He trailed off and looked away from Zachary's unblinking stare. The bowl of red tinted water was still next to him.

"Shawn got to him." There was no point in lying or trying to come up with some excuse that would explain Jordan's swelling features. Zachary dug his phone from his pocket. The picture from Shane was still pulled up when he unlocked it and pushed it into Nolan's hand. "This is when I text you." The other looked at the phone and glanced back at Zachary before he turned it around. Whatever reaction he felt inside was hidden because Nolan's face remained stoic. His cheeks, red and flustered, remained just as they were. He moved to pass it back to Zachary, but the phone was snatched from his hand before he could move. Tristan now held it.