Beyond Evolution

While it would be a little overzealous to describe Jack as being distraught over the whole Charlie thing, he certainly wasn't taking it well. There was a small part of him that didn't think it was real, like they were just bickering and that it would all blow over but seeing as how Jack was incapable of apologizing and way too mistrusting in general, Jack and Charlie were as good as dead. It also didn't help that it came down to Charlie choosing the Baines boys over him. Those tow-headed fags...like the pair of them weren't assholes on their own. No, just Jack was the bad guy. He was always the bad guy but it was mostly because he refused to roll over. He liked making his little social observations and prodding at people's insecurities because he liked being the person who said what everyone else was too afraid to. Why lie when the truth was more fun right? Well the truth, King, was that Jack had been fucking his precious Nico. Not for love or anything as sickeningly queer as whatever King was doing, but because he could. Because he hated King and his brother so much, and Nico and his brothers so much, that he went out of his way to do his worst. And yet when the topic came up, Jack kept his mouth closed. Grease up and go to the school dance boys, and tongue your boyfriend's asshole all you want King, just know that revenge will be sweet and someday you'll know that Jack's dick had been there first and frequently. He was making plans. Fucked up, tweaker-type plans.

And Charlie. Poor, stupid Charlie. He cursed her name with each white line that disappeared up into his nose, his eyes red-rimmed from the constant narcotic assault on his body and maybe a little bit from crying as well. He was so fucked up he didn't know which way was up or down and his skin crawled, causing him to scratch and hit himself furiously, breaking the skin and leaving red welts in long raking marks wherever his nails could reach. Yet he was numb to it all. Numb to the tiny red beads that dripped and soiled an already musty, white t-shirt. He was numb to the people in the motel room who laughed maniacally about tweaking and wanting to reach Jack's current level of inebriation. He was numb to the girl wrapping her arms around his narrow waist despite watching her in the mirror with a half-lidded gaze and eyes unable to focus, at the small sores along her forehead or the fact that she wanted something Jack was in no means capable of providing. He liked it this way. He liked how free he felt and for good measure he slammed his head forward into the dresser mirror, breaking it into a fragmented spider's web and slicing his forehead open in the process. "Don't fucking touch me," was all he could grumble with a crazy smile to the girl who had already backed up and away. Jack didn't feel a thing.

Things went dark. He felt unbelievably cold and tired, and like somebody banging their fist on top of a snowy television, Jack caught glimpses of where he was. A parking lot. A car. The side of a road. Through tall, wrought-iron gates. He was in nothing but a pair of black boxer-briefs and his unlaced boots, his arms wrapped around his scrawny, cut up chest trying to keep in what heat he could in the thirty-degree weather. The spotlights on the school were too much for him in this fragile state but it was enough to remind him of where he was -- he had made it back to the school physically but mentally was a completely different story. Instead of going inside and putting on some clothes like a normal person, Jack began to scream at the top of his lungs. "CHARLIE. CHARLIEEEEE. CHARLIE." His voice cracked, similarly to when he'd thought she had died the day of the attack, a line of blood already dried down the center of his face like crazy-person warpaint. "CHARLIE YOU FUCKING BITCH OPEN THE DOOR." It was all nonsense and probably not what he really wanted to say but he was articulating some sort of deep, weird emotional pain albeit in a totally embarrassing and memorable way. "CHARLIEEEEEEE," he was crying, his lack of control over himself making his words erupt in a spray of spittle. "OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"