FicWad

Disclaimers: Me no own. Raaaah.

Warnings: Slash, language, random sacreligiousness

Failing Jesus


Chapter Three: The Boy Behind the Patch


"Lucyyy, I'm hoooome!" Skittery crowed as the door flew open. I briefly glanced up from my binder, grinned, and turned back to it. I doubt Racetrack even opened his eyes. He was somewhere in the second act of Bare, and he was always totally out of it when he listened to that.

Skittery promptly tore of a sheet of his sin packet, made it into an airplane and sailed it into Racetrack's face.

"/Ow/! You little /shit/!"

The lights suddenly began to flick on and off rapidly.

"... Snitch, what are you doing?"

"WHEEE, LIGHTS!"

"You have so many issues."

Race sat up, removed his headphones, and tossed Skittery's paper airplane to the floor. "So, how was confession?"

Snitch snorted and left the lights alone as he plopped down onto the sofa-bed. "It was confession. What else is there to say?"

"That took balls, you guys. Major balls," Skittery said somberly. Race and I grinned at each other. "Seriously. I couldn't have just walked out."

"Well, we didn't exactly just walk out. Olivarde tried to stop us."

Snitch's jaw dropped. "Are you /serious/?!"

"Yeah. She got in our faces with her 'holier than thou' attitude-"

"And Race completely told her off," I added.

"You guys /rock/!" Snitch crowed.

"Hey, is it almost eight-thirty yet?" Skitts wondered out loud. "We have that bonfire thing to go to, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah, we do. We should probably get going."

Snitch groaned and stretched out on top of Skittery. "Do we really have to? I just got here!"

"Stop your bitching, wench."

"Yeah. After all, I'm making a speech."

Racetrack raised an eyebrow and sat up, apparently interested. "You're making a speech?"

"Yep," I replied with a grin.

"This I have to see."

Snitch sat up suddenly. He looked at Race, then at me, then at Skittery, then back at me again.

"Um... are you guys flirting with each other?"

Complete silence.

"Snitch, let's go to the bonfire."

"But, Skitts, I think-"

"Snitch. Bonfire. /Now/."

He blinked, shrugged, and got to his feet. Then, he shot a final questioning glance over his shoulder and followed Skittery out the door.

Once the door shut, Racetrack let out a soft laugh and shook his head. Then, he carefully placed his CD player on the floor next to his bed and glanced up, smirking just a little bit.

"So. Were we flirting with each other?"

My breath caught in my throat, and I swear that my heart actually did skip a beat. You hear that expression all the time, but you have no idea how scary it is until it actually happens. It's like your entire body just stops for a second, then randomly remembers how to work itself again.

I fought to keep from choking, but his grin never wavered.

"I... I don't know. Was that flirting?"

"Do you want it to be?"

Quite suddenly, my ability to form actual words totally left me. I sat there and stammered for a good thirty seconds or so while his smile just kept getting bigger. Finally, he spared me further torture and cut me off.

"Don't worry about it, Blink. We'll talk about it later, if you want."

He strolled out of the door, singing that stupid "you make me wanna lala" song under his breath. And I just sat there and stared.

-----

"Judging people."

Jack paused for dramatic effect and glanced quickly around the circle of boys. The huge fire at the center raged and popped loudly; it seemed like it was trying to drown us with its heat. I was sitting about three feet away from it, plus I was squished in between Racetrack and Skittery, so I was sweating like crazy. But, for some reason, I barely even noticed the heat.

"We all judge people. We do it without even realizing it. The second we see somebody, we stereotype them and put them in a certain group before they've even spoken." I'd never realized what a good speaker Jack was. Probably because he was always joking. But, this time, he was serious. Dead serious.

Jack's voice softened a little bit, but it still managed to carry through the night air. Somehow, I knew it reached every single boy around that fire. "I don't think we ever really notice how much we hurt people when we judge them right off the bat. So, we've asked a couple guys to talk about their own experiences tonight. Some of these guys might be your best friends. They might be your physics partner. Or, maybe, you don't even know who they are. But they all have something in common. They're your classmates, and they know exactly what it's like to be judged." He smiled a little bit, nodded, and started to tell his own story.

He talked about being referred to as "the kid whose dad killed his mom." Then, Swifty got up and started talking about being the only Asian guy at an all-white grammar school.

Then, it was my turn. Swallowing nervously, I got to my feet and stood near the front of the fire.

"Um, for those of you who don't know me, hi, I'm Isaac. But those of you who do know me probably know me as Blink, for obvious reasons." I forced a tiny smile and tapped my eye patch. "'Blink' has really become a term of endearment over the past couple of years, but it wasn't always that way. Most of you probably don't know this, but by the time I hit seventh grade, I'd switched school nine times." I quickly glanced at my friends' faces. They stared back at me, identical expressions of absolute shock written across their faces. Nope, the definitely hadn't known. "I switched schools so much because, to the kids at my old schools, 'Blink' wasn't just a nickname. It was this horrible, unavoidable label that I got plastered across my forehead the second I walked in the school. No one ever took the time to talk to me, because I'd automatically been labeled as 'that one-eyed weirdo.' Nobody knew anything about me. They just didn't care. I wasn't like them, and why should they care about me if I wasn't like them?"

I sighed and stared into the fire, trying to speak past the lump steadily growing in my throat.

"Go, Blink!"

"You rock, dude!"

I couldn't help but smile a little as the random support flew out of the crowd. Swallowing thickly, I continued. "They didn't know why I wore this patch. They all just sort of assumed that I was disgustingly disfigured, and I wore it so I wouldn't sicken anyone who had the misfortune of speaking to me." My laugh was quiet, bitter. "I don't even know if they realized it, but the second that those 'normal' kids saw me, they had me pegged as dangerous or weird or, my personal favorite, deformed/. So, they made up all kinds of stories about why I wore the patch. My mother went insane and burned our house down, and I got stabbed through the eye with a burning piece of wood. My father cut my eye out one night in a drunken rage. I tried to commit suicide by gouging it out myself. All sorts of great stories, each one more gross and outrageous and /hurtful than the others. But not a single person, not /one/, knew the real story."

I paused just like Jack had, though I did it to gather up the little courage that I had left, not to build the suspense. Finally, I closed my eyes, slipped my thumb beneath the patch, and slid it off.

A few surprised gasps spread from my classmates as they saw the perfectly normal, untwisted area around my left eye for the first time.

"I was born blind in my left eye. That's all. No glitz, no glamour... just that."

Even the sound of a flaming log breaking off and falling to the dirt floor didn't cause my classmates' intent, shocked eyes to look away.

"So. Do I look different to you? Do I look ugly or distorted or /wrong/? So I can't see out of my left eye. Oh, well, that's life. I still play games and do homework and complain about my parents, just like every other teenager. I laugh and cry and get in fights and do everything that you can do. And you guys know that." I'd expected to be crying by this point, but all I felt was a blank sort of emptiness. So, I let out another small, bitter smile. "The kids at my other schools didn't." Slowly, I reached up to put my patch back on. But, I stopped. I don't know why I did it, but I slipped it into my pocket instead.

Quickly, I glanced over at my friends. Snitch was literally sobbing into Skittery's shoulder. Skitts was looking at the ground, hiding his face, but I could see the light catching off of his own stream of tears as he wrapped his arms around Snitch and whispered in his ear. And Racetrack's face was completely and totally blank. Absolutely impassive.

But his eyes were shining with what looked a lot like tears to me.

"You know that old proverb 'you can't judge a book by its cover?' Of course you do. We've all heard it a hundred thousand times, and we're all sick of it by now. But there's a reason why it's stuck around as long as it has. It's true/. People aren't always what they seem to be. Girls with purple hair and nose rings and pitch-black clothes can listen to show tunes. The kid you see in the hallway who's always smiling might go home, let the smile drop, then grab a knife and add another gash to his arm. You just never know. Everybody has their own patch, their own outer covering that hides what's really there. So, next time you see someone that's not just like you... think about what might be under /their patch before you make a decision on what they're like."

A deafening silence filled the air as I stepped over people's legs to make my way back towards my friends.

"A 'thank you' doesn't seem to really cover what you deserve for giving that speech, Blink," Jack said quietly. I just flashed him a sad smile and squeezed back in between Skittery and Race.

"Blink... Blink, that was incredible," Skittery whispered, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand while he gently rubbed Snitch's back with the other. Snitch was still crying too hard to say anything.

I froze when I felt a pair of arms circle my waist. A split second later, Racetrack's lips ghosted across my ear.

"Don't ever let anyone tell you that you're a freak, because you're not. You are the most amazing person I have ever. Fucking. /Met/."

I finally gave up and totally lost it. With a choked sob, I leaned forward and buried my face in my hands, feeling nothing but my own tears soaking my hands and Racetrack's fingers slowly and steadily brushing up and down my back.

-----

Racetrack looked up from my binder of porn as I walked out of the bathroom, still scrubbing at my damp hair.

"Hey."

I smiled sheepishly. "Hey."

"You've been in there for a long time. It's almost eleven-thirty."

"I know. I think a lot when I'm in the shower, which leads to me taking really, really long showers."

"Yeah, you've been in there for over an hour. And you were singing while I was trying to read this Tara/Willow!"

I laughed quietly and shrugged. "Sorry about that. Where are Snitch and Skitts?"

"They went for a walk in the woods. Snitch couldn't stop crying."

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you serious?"

He closed the binder. "Blink, that was an amazing speech. He just feels like shit. All of us do, I think. Snitch is just taking it harder than the rest of us."

"Why would you feel like shit?"

He shrugged. "Well, I think at some point in time, we all really... you know, wondered what was up with your eye. And I think we all might have made up some stories of our own. But none of us took the time to ask."

I half-smiled. "That's different, Race. You guys are my friends. You took the time to get to know me. They didn't."

"Well, they didn't deserve to have you as a friend."

We just looked at each other for a minute or two. For some reason, during that one minute, I felt... /different/. I felt like I could sit with Racetrack and say whatever I wanted, or not say anything at all, and everything would still be fine. I can't really explain it. It was just a feeling of everything in the entire world just being /right/.

Then, I smiled. A real, actual, genuine smile.

"I'm getting a little tired. I mean, we have to wake up early tomorrow, and we woke up early today... so I think I'm gonna turn in."

Racetrack nodded. "Yeah, me, too. Skittery and Snitch will come back when they're ready."

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"So... goodnight."

Race grinned as I pulled the sheets up around me. "'Night, Blink. And, just so you know... I meant what I said at the bonfire."

"I know."

"Good."

I reached up to turn the lamp off, and we left it at that.

-----

I'd been so proud of myself for getting to bed early. Unfortunately, I woke up a bit later the... unsettling sounds coming from the sofa-bed totally destroyed any chance that I might have had of getting back to sleep.

Snitch and Skittery had come back from the woods. Great.

And, although I couldn't see very well, it didn't look like they had a whole lot of clothes on. Even better.

A quick glance at the clock informed me that it was one-thirty. I sighed, pulled on my Chucks as fast as I could, and then headed out the door that led to the balcony.

I'd been on the bottom floor last year, so I hadn't spent any time on the balcony. But I'd been pleasantly surprised to find that each of the upper bedrooms at the Center had a balcony that overlooked the trees and the lake. It seemed to be the perfect spot for just collecting your thoughts or relaxing.

Or the perfect place to go when your roommates /won't stop having sex/.

I shut the door behind me and looked out across the lake, watching the faint moonlight filter through the trees.

"You, too, huh?"

Racetrack grinned as I turned to look at him. He was sitting calmly at a tiny table near the edge of the balcony, and his deck of French cards was spread out in front of him. He stuck the pen light that he was holding in his mouth, pointed it at the cards, and then began to shuffle.

I smiled. "Yeah. They're so damn loud."

"Believe me, I know," he muttered from around the pen light, rolling his eyes.

"You know, I was wondering if people had sex in those beds."

Race laughed as best as he could without dropping the light. "Well, now you know."

"I wish I didn't."

I heard nothing for the next five minutes except for the quiet sounds of Race shuffling and dealing and flipping cards around. I was perfectly happy leaning against the railing and just watching everything. It was beautiful and peaceful and didn't involve the sounds of Snitch and Skitts having sex, which was a major plus.

Then, I heard a soft "click," which I assumed was the sound of Racetrack flicking off his pen light. His chair scraped noisily against the balcony's old, faded floor, and his footsteps gave off a hollow echo. With a soft sigh, he leaned against the banister directly next to me.

"You know," he muttered quietly, "you never did answer the question."

I turned to look at him, confused. "What question?"

"When Snitch wanted to know if we were hitting on each other."

I felt myself blush slightly. "Oh... um..."

He snickered. "Always articulate, huh, Blink?"

"Very funny. And, you know, you didn't answer, either."

He shrugged, still smirking. "I wanted to see what you'd say. I already knew what my answer was."

"And what was your answer?"

He turned his attention away from the lake and looked back at me. "Are you really that dense? Of course I was hitting on you."

Okay, definitely blushing like a prepubescent girl. "Oh..."

He laughed. "I've had a crush on you since sophomore year, you moron."

"Are you /serious/? Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"Because I didn't think anything would come from it, and I didn't want to freak out a straight boy. But, from the way things are going..." He trailed off as his eyes drilled into me. "... I don't really know if you're straight any more."

I stared at him for a second, then sighed and leaned forward to rest my head on the railing. "I don't know, either, Race. I really don't."

"You weren't acting like a straight guy after we pissed off Olivarde."

"I know."

"And even if you aren't, who really cares?"

"Racetrack..."

"So, are you, or aren't you?"

"I don't /know/."

"Oh, come on, how can you-"

"God /dammit/, Race, /I don't know/!" He stopped in mid-sentence, surprised. "I mean... okay, yesterday or earlier today or whatever, I was /straight/. I was totally and utterly straight. And then I get here, and I actually start paying attention to you and the shit you do, and suddenly... I don't know! I see you in, like, this completely different light, and everything is just /different/!"

"Not everything."

"Well, a lot of shit. And so, I... Race, I don't know. I just don't know what I am."

Racetrack was absolutely silent. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at the floor, the beginnings of a massive headache working through my head.

Then, he cleared his throat. "There's a way that you could find out."

I froze briefly, then turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

He didn't say anything for a second. Then, before I could move, before I could /think/, he'd closed the distance between us, grabbed me by the shoulders, and firmly pressed his lips against mine.

Did I mention that I'd never been kissed before? Because, yeah, I definitely hadn't.

I stood there, wide-eyed, and let him kiss me, because I honestly didn't know what else to do. I gripped the edge of the railing with one hand while the other hung helplessly at my side.

What do I do? Am I supposed to kiss him back, or push him away or... or what? I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do!

And that's when it hit me.

The question really wasn't, "what am I supposed to do?" It was, "what do I want to do?" And at that second, it was reasonably easy to figure out what I wanted to do.

So, I relaxed and let myself kiss him back.

That must have caught him totally off guard, because he actually paused for a second. Just for a second, mind you. Almost immediately, I felt him kiss me again, hungrily, his hands roaming across my back. I stepped backwards tentatively until I felt the banister press into me. The wood digging into my back probably would have been uncomfortable in any other situation, but at that moment, I was too busy concentrating on the feeling of Racetrack's lips moving against my own to worry about that.

I let out a tiny, involuntary whimper when he slowly and persistently began to run the tip of his tongue over my bottom lip. I gasped quietly, then fought the urge to whimper again as Race slid his tongue into my mouth. From that point on, I tried to keep myself upright with my white-knuckled grip on the railing, since my suddenly-shaking legs weren't doing me much good. Awkwardly, I began to mimic his actions. He didn't seem to care that I was probably the crappiest kisser in the world. Hell, at that point, I didn't even care. All that mattered, all that I could even possibly begin to think about, was Racetrack.

I don't know how long we kept it up, and I really didn't care. I was slightly disappointed when Racetrack finally pulled away slightly and rested his forehead against mine.

"I've wanted to do that since I was fifteen," he panted, smiling slightly.

Laughing softly, I pulled away a bit more and looked him in the eye. "So... what happens now?"

He shrugged. "Whatever you want. It's up to you."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. I'm not looking for any decisions tonight. Do you really think I'd expect you to completely change your sexuality because of one kiss?"

"That was actually a couple of kisses."

"Well, true... but still!" he said, laughing. "Still, I wouldn't expect you to change everything overnight. Take some time, think everything over. Okay?"

I nodded slowly. "Okay."

"Okay, then." He grinned, then glanced back towards the door. "I think they're finished. Want to try and get some sleep?"

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

He flashed me one last smirk, then reached up and calmly tugged me down into a much softer, gentler kiss.

"Good night," he whispered.

"'Night," I replied.

We walked back inside without another word. Sure enough, Snitch and Skittery were sound asleep, wrapped and tangled around one another. Racetrack flipped the lamp off, and I reached up to take off my patch.

My eyes widened when I realized that it had been off the entire time.

I glanced over at Race as he pulled the blanket up almost to his chin. Then, I flicked off the other lamp and sank down into my own bed, a slow smile spreading across my face.

End Chapter Three

Author's Note: One of the girls in my religion class actually saw me writing this. She read it, wrote down part of Blink's "don't judge people" speech, laminated several copies of it, and passed it out to people at a Student Council meeting. That embarrassed the crap out of me, especially since I was convinced that the teachers that I talk bad about in this fic would read it and jump on my ass. Anyway.