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Jackson sat slumped in his chair, eyes tired. He and Pamela had recently fought about the diary since she was the first, and only person to discover what he could do. Jackson had her words repeating in his head over and over again.
“You’re hurting Exer..you’re hurting me, all of us. Why are you doing this, Jackson?”
That was the first time she had called him Jackson since they started dating. It hurt his chest, left a pit in his stomach because he didn't know either. Why was he doing this?
It was around twelve in the morning in his room, and he hadn't dared to open his mouth since two days ago. From Friday, he hadn’t spoken to any of his friends, he couldn't without feeling guilty. His leg shook uncontrollably as he procrastinated his homework. It was due on Monday morning, and he had pushed it aside till now.
The quietness absorbed the room. He scribbled some careless answers down. The brunette put his pencil down, turning off the light to head to his bed. He glanced out his window, the familiar glare of the streetlight hitting his face. He lied down exhausted, hoping he wouldn’t wake up the next morning.
Jackson Smith didn’t know what he would do, and couldn't picture himself communicating with anyone he knew, or doing anything right in general. He decided to sleep it off.
He calmed his breathing and thought of his mother, slowly drifting to sleep.
By the time he woke up, he couldn’t even force himself out of bed. He was consumed by the feeling of being alone and not being able to affect anyone. He felt he just needed to isolate himself to improve. He couldn’t tell if it was working or not.
Around 8am, Ronald knocked on his door with a concern in his voice. “Jackson?”
That same familiar sound made him groan and bury his head into his sheets deeper. “We’re gonna be late. I need to take you to school today. Hurry.”
Jackson sighed and realized he had to somehow find a way out of this. “I’m staying home,” he declared through a mutter. Even though Ronald wanted the best for him, he listened.
Ronald realized letting Jackson sleep in was quite a better alternative than forcing him to school. Ronald slipped his pale hands on his doorknob, glancing up at Jackson once more. He nods. He begins to close the door, yet when he does, he warns; “Ken will worry.”
He was right. But Ken has survived multiple days without him. He tosses and turns and eventually falls back asleep.
Jackson’s peaceful sleep is awakened by a tapping sound on his window. He concluded it was just another bird or maybe a raindrop. Until then noise increased.
He rubs the corners of his eyes and his eyes land on the small clock in his room, reading 12:01. It isn’t as late as he thought it’s be. The rain blocked out most of the noise from Tia Carol and Tio Frank talking downstairs, and gave him reassurance he was warmer in his bed than what he could have been at school.
The noise surrounding his window gets louder. He couldn’t just ignore it now. He yawns and sits up, blinking to reveal Ken trying to open his window. Oh.
Ken? His best friend? Wait- He’s too tired for any of this. “Ken?” He mumbles, his morning voice setting in. Ken waves through the window, in an awkward manner.
Well shit, he's close to slipping off his roof, so what he can do? Not let him in?
Jackson stumbles toward his window and easily opens it. “You know Tia would have let you in, right?”
Ken shrugs. “This is better. So I can only see and think about you.”
Right. Okay. His best friend just snuck in through his window in a very normal way and said a very normal sentence in a totally normal tone. This is fine.
He’s wearing a denim jacket over a brown button up. Black jeans, black boots.
“What?” He laughs almost naturally. “I got worried.” Huh. So Ronald was right. “Jack,” Ken says, ruffling his hair. “Are you okay?”
Is he okay? He doesn’t even know himself. No, he’s definitely not. This is the worst his life has been since his mom left. But say yes. He has to say yes because he can’t have another person worrying.
“Yeah. Yeah.” Jackson smiles, sitting back down on his bed. You can tell he’s lying from the way his dimples aren’t visible and how the corners of his eyes don't crease. It’s not genuine and Ken knows.
He sits down beside him. “Why didn't you come to school today?”
Jackson hesitates, trying to form at least a sensible lie, another one, worth listening to. “I overslept. I was too late for school to get in.”
“Bullshit, they let you in no matter if you’re late.” Ken notices he sounds like he’s accusing Jackson so he backs down. Stops asking questions. He can tell when Jackson gets uncomfortable.
Plus, if Jackson was covered and drowning in his own, hidden problems it wouldn’t be right to force it out of him. He takes a breath.
“Jack.” Ken spoke, putting his hands on Jackson’s shoulders and pulling him in for an embrace, “Whatever you’re going through, I’m here. I’m right here.” His grip was tight. Not in a forceful way, because Jackson already had his arms around Ken, searching for whatever type of condolence he had been offered.
Before he could notice it himself, he blinked and his vision blurred, blocked from messy tears he couldn't control. Shaking.
“I’m sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry Ken.” The words just spilled out. They were planned to be said at one point, but not so soon.
As he cried into his shoulder, more tears came, and more soothing back rubs from Ken came. His breaths changed from quiet to short and shallow. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He tries to find his hand and when he does he holds it tight.
“I’m just..lying,” he manages to mutter. “..to everyone. It feels like even I don’t know what I’m doing or how to control my life. My life..my life is losing momentum.” His words jumble.
He was always vague. Ken didn’t mind. Jackson rarely opened up, so this was more than enough. “You have time to figure this out.” He replies softly, caressing his hand gently. “Not everything needs to be solved at once.”
“But this has been going on for months.”
“And that’s okay. Is there a reason you’re..what you call lying?”
“If I tell the truth,” he sniffles. “It’ll hurt everyone. Reveal what I’ve been hiding.” Ken runs his fingers through Jackson’s hair. “I’m sure if you were honest with what this is, they would understand. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“There’s no rush on doing this. You have me. It’ll be okay.”
Jackson knows it won't. He opts out on objecting and instead wraps his arms around Ken tighter.
The rain on the roof echoing and filling the stillness of the room.
A few minutes later, his hiccups get quieter and he pulls away. “Jolie and Timothy don’t get me like you do.”
Ken’s chest tightens. He’s felt this weird love for Jackson for months and he knew he wouldn’t confront it. Just..not until now.
He can feel the heat from Jackson’s face. He can notice the small details, like the way his moles are perfectly scattered along his face and the way his undereyes are red. His lips chapped, his hair messy and sticking up.
Without thinking, he cups Jackson’s face in his hands. It’s like his fingers and palms fit perfectly against his best friend’s skin.
He slowly pulls his face to Jackson’s, and gently kisses his forehead. They let it happen.
For a moment, it feels like everything is gone. It’s like everything feels tighter. Jackson blocks out the sound of faint chatter from downstairs and he closes his eyes. A strange sense of comfort rushes over him, and for a second, he wants to kiss Ken back.
With no regrets, rejection, he pulls Ken in for a last hug and sighs. He knows at least someone cares now.