One More Year

Chapter 17

This was I think the 4th chapter I wrote. So yes, it's been sitting here forever. Some modifications have been made, but overall, this chapter has been just waiting lol.

It's not as short as I thought it was.
Almost 2k.

Most of you have already guessed this chapters POV.

Enjoy!

TW: Aftermath of the last chapter

~TH~

A loud, frantic pounding caused Spot to jump slightly, raising an eyebrow, he placed his soda on the counter and went over to the door. The pounding continued becoming more desperate the longer it went on.

He opened the door a crack, before swinging it completely open. Jack practically fell into him.

"Kelly?" The kid looked awful, pale breathing heavy.

"Spot, hey, I uh-" He didn't finish running his fingers through his hair and rocking back and forth on his feet. "I, I just-"

"You, uh, wanna come in?" Spot had never seen the kid such a mess. He nodded and walked into the main room. His head jerked from side to side as if looking for something. Or someone.

He began to pace in front of the couch, mumbling to himself, his fingers constantly moving through his hair. Spot watched him, concerned. Jack had issues, he knew that, but this was a whole new level. While tired and closed off, Jack always looked put together. Now, any makeup the younger boy might have put on was gone, letting the deep bruises and the dark circles under his eyes be seen in full, especially against his currently pale skin. It looked like there were handprints around his neck. The sleeve of his shirt was torn from the shoulder all the way down and he had shown up without his sweatshirt. In January.

"So, Kelly, you gonna tell me what's going on or am I supposed to guess?"

He stopped pacing for a moment, turning and staring at him, before continuing his path. His voice was scratchy when he answered. "It was Snyder."

No kidding.

"He, uh, he was drunk. But like, real drunk, not normal drunk. Weird drunk."

Okay, at least he was talking.

"And normally when he gets drunk he beats on me and stuff but not-"

He stopped, breathing heavily. Spot was slightly surprised. He knew that Jack's foster dad hit him, but he had never been able to get him to actually admit it.

"He just, he-" Jack stopped walking using both hands to tightly grab at his hair. The boy looked to be on the verge of tears.

Spot wasn't sure exactly what to do. Jack was a mess, that was for sure, and he just kept spiralling. He found himself wishing Race was there. He was much better at dealing with these things. He was pretty sure Jack was or was about to have a panic attack.

"Have you eaten?" Spot blurted out.

Jack's head jerked up, confusion evident in his eyes.

Weekend. Right. No school lunches.

"Sit down." He pointed to the table and waited for Jack to start moving, then went to the kitchen. He honestly didn't have much at the moment, he'd been working most of the day and hadn't had a chance to pick up anything. Keeping his eyes on Jack, whose eyes kept darting around the room, he grabbed the bread and peanut butter. The kid would probably eat whatever he put in front of him at this point.