Chapter Two

The first thing Jay noticed when he got home, with no small amount of both irritation and amusement, was that his parents placed a letter on the living room table for him to see. He picked it up and wasn’t surprised to see it was from Aaron. He sighed and walked to his new room. It was much smaller than his old one...not that he really cared. It was eight feet by eight, as compared to his old one’s ten by ten. He laid down on his bed and opened the letter carefully, as if the paper might crumble away if he wasn’t gentle.

Jay,
I miss you all more and more every day. Law school is rough, but I’m on my penultimate year! And I have enough money saved to visit when Christmas rolls around. Mom and Dad gave me the new address. I can’t wait to see you again, buddy.
-Aaron.

A trace of a smile graced Jay’s lips before he tossed the letter onto his bedside table. He tore out a blank page of his notebook and rolled onto his stomach, writing a response.

Aaron,
I’m glad that you finally get to come home. I miss you too.
-Jay.

It was too short. He knew that. But what could he do? He didn’t know how to convey in words, written or otherwise, just how much his brother meant to him, how much he missed him. But he was also angry, deep down. A small part of him hated Aaron, although he never wanted to acknowledge that. He folded up the paper and walked to the living room, sealing his letter into an envelope and stamping it, then writing the addresses. He went outside, walked the short distance to the mailbox, and raised the flag as he put the letter in. He closed it with just a bit too much force and looked around. The house and property weren’t impressive at all. A simple one-story painted sky blue surrounded by a lawn that needed cutting pretty desperately.

“Jay?” His mother called out from inside. Jay looked up and saw her at the door, waving. Madeline Willows had always been a petite woman, and still held most of the beauty she’d had when she was younger. Jay looked more like her than he did his father. They both had dirty blonde hair (hers was much more lustrous and bright) and blue eyes, both were pale, and both had slight builds. She was kind, and tried her best to understand her youngest son...with varying degrees of success. He walked over to her and smiled a little, but it felt fake to him, probably because he rarely smiled. “I have to go to work again, will you be okay?” Jay nodded, averting his gaze to a ladybug crawling on the wall that suddenly became very interesting to him. His mother paused, then said goodbye and walked past him to her car.

She never tried to bring him out of his shell. His father never did either. He didn’t care either way, but it could be irritating when they didn’t even talk to him once he looked like he wasn’t paying attention. Jay found himself walking to the kitchen, where they kept their calendar. Before he knew it or even realized, he began to count the days until Winter Break. It felt far too long before it would happen. He sighed and walked back to the living room. He briefly considered making something to eat, but he wasn’t hungry. So instead, he turned the television on and brought his advanced algebra homework out from his backpack. He grimaced as he heard a news reporter speaking and flipped through the channels until he found something remotely more interesting. Family Feud. He couldn’t very well shout out the answers, but he could think them at least. He looked down at the first problem and grimaced. He hated Math, but at least he could do it fairly well.

By the time he was done, two episodes had aired, and it was about six-thirty. He had no idea what else to do at that point, so he just laid there on the couch, closing his eyes and allowing his mind to wander into whatever it felt like. Reddish-brown hair, eyes the color of stormclouds, a smile that probably broke many hearts...he shook his head. Why was he thinking about Chris Webster? He must really need to fill out that journal entry. Or maybe he should finish Marcus Holt’s page first...he shook his head again and groaned inwardly. He needed some sleep. Badly. With a loud, breathy sigh, he stood and stuffed his algebra textbook into his backpack before he tossed it onto the sofa and walked to his room, dropping onto it and closing his eyes. It didn’t take too long for him to drift into slumber.

He sighed irritably as his alarm began to blare. He really needed to stop using it...oh well. He sat up slowly and sighed again, eyes blurry and half-lidded. His father walked past the open door, then peeked in.

“Good, you’re awake.” John Willows was once (Jay assumed) well-built, but now had a little bit of a gut and was showing traces of smile lines at the corners of his lips. He didn’t smile at Jay much. He had green eyes that seemed somehow cold to Jay, as well as a muddy brown beard that matched his hair. “Were you okay alone?” Jay just nodded, refusing to respond further. There was no need to. His father didn’t even look surprised before he left, but Jay supposed he couldn’t blame him. He stood up and made a face as he looked down at himself. He hadn’t changed into his pajamas before he went to bed.

Well, the day was turning out to be fantastic already, and he hadn’t even gotten to school. He’d gone to sleep earlier than usual, but he still felt tired enough to just fall asleep standing. Resisting the strong urge to do just that, he slipped through the school door before it closed, ignoring the protest of another student behind Jay as the door shut on him. Making sure that nobody was around first, Jay silently opened the auditorium door and walked in. Instantly, he knew that he wasn’t alone and looked around. Standing on the stage was Chris Webster. He was staring down at an open, thin book in his hands, so he didn’t spot Jay. The introvert crouched behind a row of seats and peeked around to watch as Chris closed the book and took a breath. Then he spoke.

“Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,” He began, loud and clear. “Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time, and all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.” He was quoting Macbeth. He must’ve been in drama. Jay was about to pull his notebook out to add this to the page, but something made him stop and listen. This was probably the best acting from a high school student Jay had ever heard. “Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He paused, and Jay quickly pulled his pen out of his backpack as well as his notebook. He flipped to Chris’s page and added to it.

Exceptional actor, possibly takes drama class.

He moved to put his pen back...and dropped it. The clacking noise it made as it hit the tiled floor seemed far louder than it should have been. Chris, who was beginning to read from the book (most likely a script) again, stopped and looked up.

“Hello?” He called out. Jay didn’t answer of course, opting to remain absolutely motionless. “...I can see the pen you dropped.” MotherFU- Jay stood up, feeling his face grow hot. Chris saw him and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! Good to see you again!” He jumped off of the stage and quickly walked to Jay. He looked a little embarrassed, but his smile never faded. “Uh...how much of that did you hear?”

Jay turned his head away, lifting one shoulder in an awkward shrug. Chris’s smile grew into a grin, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “All of it, then?” Jay nodded. Chris began to speak again, but the bell began to ring, the shrill and monotonous screech making Jay wince. When it was over, he waved at Chris and quickly left, slinging his backpack on along the way. He didn’t care much if he was late to class.

He just needed to get away from Chris before that weird feeling in his chest made him freak out.