It All Started in Detention

Chapter Twelve

Guys, the new story is nearly done. I'm just stalling because something really sad happens, and I don't want to write it.

But it's good. There were some parts I wrote and when I read them I was like "Wow. That's got to be the best thing I've ever written." which doesn't happen often because there's far better writers (Stephen King, Maya Angelou, Broadway_Crackers), but that was just a moment of pride.

And I will never miss a chance to promote Stage's writing read it guys:)

Anyway, enjoy!!

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"So, where you living?"

"There's meant to be an 'are' somewhere in that sentence."

"Yeah, it's in the 'where'", Jack joked, grinning when he saw Davey roll his eyes amusedly. He may have been trying a bit too hard to make amends, but he was having fun. Davey was kind of fun.

Driving home from Jacobi's was interesting, definitely, in comparison to the ride from school. They found conversation easier than the silence they remained in for a total of fifteen minutes earlier in their day, and Jack was especially enjoying Davey's company. He was a bit jealous that he wasn't able to drive, but he was having a good time nonetheless. "So?"

"Uh, I live on...Green and 42nd", Davey nodded, focusing on the road. It was a peeve of his when people would look away from what's in front of them to do remotely anything, but Jack was definitely tempting him. It felt wrong not to look him in the eyes when speaking to him, like when he would speak to his parents. But he had to get the older home before the sun ran out in them, and he was already holding back the urge to cuss out other road patrons. "You?"

"Manchester and 5th", Jack stated quietly, looking out of the window. It was rather busy for this time of day—not that New York isn't always busy—and he would've preferred to walk if it meant he would be able to settles his impatience with people watching. "You should remember that. It's far from Green and 42nd."

Davey hummed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He felt warmer than preferred, noting that he'd be better off bringing a jacket to school the next day rather than a sweater vest, but he decided to blame it on tension. "Are you in any clubs?"

"Art and newspaper", Jack sighed, staring at the dirt under his finger nails. He dug a thumbnail under his index finger's nail and did his best to remove whatever was under there, setting a mental reminder to take a shower when he got home. "It's pretty fun. I'm surprised you ain't joined."

Davey shrugged, pressing the gas of the car and moving forward. "Didn't want to. I had reached the limit during freshman year, plus I'm an athlete. I knew it'd be a lot to handle."

"I guess", Jack muttered, glancing toward the younger. "This next one's weird."

"Meeting you has been weird enough."

"You gay?"

Davey nearly stopped the car in the middle of the road, his eyes bulging out of his head and his dry become dry with fear. He felt the temperature rise record breakingly fast, and his sweater vest suddenly felt like a noose tightening around his neck. "W...Why?"

"Just wanted to know", Jack shrugged, his brows furrowing at Davey's now more reserved look. His face paled and slicked, as if he was sweating bullets and overthinking every decision he's ever made. And Davey was.

He wasn't out to anyone but his family, and he felt lucky enough to be in their excepting arms. The last thing he expected was to be asked by Jack Kelly—the guy that dated the Katherine Pulitzer and broke up with her unscathed by her father—if he liked guys. It was the last thing he wanted.