Chapter Text
It wasn’t a great day.
Luke Patterson’s morning had gone okay. Taking the bus with the rest of Julie and the Phantoms, Willie and Flynn was always fun. It was the only part of his morning that he liked, really. Holding hands with Julie on the bus and joking with Flynn and the boys tended to be the highlight.
Because as soon as he got to school, all the bullshit started up again and he kind of wanted to set everything on fire.
“Roll down your sleeves, Mr. Patterson,” Mrs. Dixon said with that pursed-lipped face she made every time she was upset. She peered at him through her thin little reading glasses that made her look like an insect.
Luke inhaled through his nose, trying to keep his temper in check. It was barely nine in the morning on a Wednesday and he was already dealing with this crap. “Why can’t I leave my sleeves where they are? No one cares.” He glanced at Carrie Wilson as he spoke. She sat in the same row as him: second from the back. They didn’t really talk, but he liked her sarcastic sense of humour and the way she didn’t give two shits about anything. The girl exuded cool.
Carrie smirked at him, perfect eyebrows raised just a little as if to say, “can you believe this bitch?” Luke grinned back.
“I care, Mr. Patterson,” the teacher said. “And the school administration cares as well. Having bare shoulders is against our dress code. Roll your sleeves down.”
Luke debated if he should push further, but decided against it. He didn’t like Mrs. Dixon, and he really wasn’t a fan of functions and relations, but it was one of the only classes he was doing okay in, and he didn’t want to push it. Reluctantly he rolled down the sleeves of his T-shirt so that they covered his apparently offensive shoulders.
“Excellent.” There was a triumphant gleam in the teacher’s eye that Luke instantly wanted to slap off her face. He made his hands into fists instead. She started droning on about the lesson and writing on the chalkboard, which Julie had told him was considered old-fashioned now, even though it was standard when he’d been in high school the first time. Using a chalkboard made Dixon really old school and out of touch, Julie had said, which Luke would’ve believed regardless.
He tried to focus on what she was talking about, to take notes from her scrawls on the board, but now all he could concentrate on was the way his sleeves brushed against his skin when he moved his hand to write. It wasn’t exactly irritating, but it was distracting. He scratched at his shoulder and then pushed the cloth up higher, hoping it would stay put.
It slid down, which felt even worse. He grimaced and shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. His shirt slid with him, moving across his back and tickling along his upper arms. It was maddening.
He shifted again, then again, then tried to shove his sleeves back up. He pulled his orange beanie lower onto his forehead, hoping the tightness of the band would somehow help.
It didn’t.
And now he was horribly aware of everything he was wearing. One of his socks had slipped down on his ankle, so he had to pull it up. The leg of his cargo pants had twisted slightly so the seam wasn’t straight, so he had to adjust it.
The sleeve of his T-shirt slipped down again.
He thought he was going to lose his fucking mind.
The class had been going on for over twenty minutes and he had no fucking clue what Dixon was talking about. He’d managed to make one note right at beginning of class, but he had no context for it; they were just numbers. He stared at it, trying to figure out what he wrote it for.
“Mr. Patterson,” Dixon’s voice rang out of nowhere. “Do you have the answer for question number three?”
Luke’s eyes snapped to the board. There were six questions written there. He had no idea which one was even question three. “What?”
“Perhaps if you spent more time focussing, and less time fidgeting, you’d have the answer,” Dixon said with a thin-lipped smiled.
There was a smattering of laughter from his classmates and Luke’s face burned. “Well, maybe if you taught in a way that made sense, I’d know!”
Dixon’s face darkened like a storm cloud. “That outburst was entirely inappropriate.”
Luke’s first thought was to stand up and flip his fucking desk. How dare this bitch call him out in front of everyone? He’d been trying.
Trying isn’t succeeding, Luke, his mother’s voice rang in his head. Only stupid children try without success.
Luke swallowed down his anger. “Sorry.” He dropped his gaze to his desk.
Dixon sniffed and carried on with the lesson. Luke didn’t even try to keep up. He’d text Carrie to see if he could get the notes off her later. Alex was pretty good at math, too. He could probably figure it out once he got home. Maybe.
He glanced up again to see Carrie looking at him. There was so much sympathy in her expression, he had to look away. Everyone in class was looking at him, all with varying degrees of sympathy, pity and contempt. He sat up straighter and plastered a smile on his face, brazening it out like he did back in ’94. That was the last year he’d gone to high school before he’d quit. It’d been Winter then, too.
He wanted to quit now; just get up and walk out. He knew exactly how dumb he was. He didn’t need their fucking judgement.
You promised Ray, he reminded himself. Part of the deal of living with the Molinas was finishing high school. Ray had told them they didn’t need to go to post-secondary, but finishing high school was non-negotiable. He really liked Ray. He didn’t want to let him down.
He just hoped he was passing enough of his courses to keep that from happening.
“What rhymes better with free? Me or see?” Luke asked Reggie. They were sitting together at one of the cafeteria tables at lunch. He and Reggie were the only ones of the gang to have second period lunch together, which was both nice because it meant they could bond, but also sucked because it meant no Julie.
Reggie eyed him over the sandwich Willie had made. “Chemistry.”
Luke chewed on the end of his pen, considering. “That’s…pretty good, actually.” He wrote it down.
“Is that for English?” Reggie asked.
“No.” Luke scowled. He had English with Julie, which made it marginally more bearable than math, but he’d always hated English. What was the point of making up shit about other people’s stories when you could be writing songs? Music class was the only class that was even slightly worthwhile.
Reggie glanced over at Luke’s notebook. “Oh, you’re writing a song!” Luke just managed to not make a face as Reggie took another bite. His sandwich was still resting in its plastic bag, untouched.
“Yup.” Luke grinned. He scribbled down another word, partly because of inspiration and partly because it allowed him to not look while Reggie was eating. “How does this sound? You set me free//you and me together is more than chemistry//Love me as I am//I’ll hold your music here inside my hands…” That sounded pretty good, actually. He grinned.
Reggie frowned thoughtfully. “Not bad. Is that the chorus?”
“It could be the chorus? I think it might be part of a verse. Not sure.” Luke started scribbling again.
“We’ve only got fifteen minutes left for lunch. You should eat.”
Luke glanced at the sandwich. The bread was some kind of whole wheat thing with a hard crust. Willie had put cheddar cheese, avocado, and alfalfa sprouts all together. Luke liked cheese, and the alfalfa sprouts were okay, but only if they were cold and really crisp. But avocado was an abomination. He knew if he put it in his mouth, he’d upchuck instantly. “The avocado is too mushy. I’ll grab something later.” He kept his eyes down as he said it, knowing that Reggie would know he was lying.
Willie tried hard, but he just didn’t seem to get what Luke liked.
Reggie sighed. He went into his lunch bag and pulled out the cookies Flynn had given him that morning. “Here.”
Luke picked up the bag and inspected the cookies. They looked homemade, but didn’t seem to be something horrible, like oatmeal. “Where’d these come from?”
“Flynn. But I don’t like this kind. Could you eat them for me, so she doesn’t know?”
“You don’t like chocolate chip?” Luke raised his eyebrows. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one lying at the lunch table. “Really?”
“She’s made them a lot,” Reggie said with a shrug.
“Okay…” Luke said. He bet that Flynn made chocolate chip cookies a lot because they were Reggie’s favourite. Reggie liked anything with chocolate in it, and Flynn baked really well. He thought about refusing them for a second, but his stomach growled and he dove in. He ate all six of them in less than a minute. He was really hungry.
“The sandwich is really good,” Reggie said again. “And it’s not mushy. Not with the cheese.”
The idea of even putting it near his mouth made him want to gag. “You can have mine.” He picked up the sandwich and gave it to Reggie. “I am not going to eat it. Trust me.”
Reggie took the sandwich and put it into his lunch bag. “Do you want my apple?”
Luke chewed on the corner of his lip. He liked apples, mostly. “Is it bruised?”
“Nope, crisp and crunchy.” Reggie grinned and handed it to him.
Luke inspected it. He hated biting into an apple and realizing too late there was a brown spot. He couldn’t see anything, and the flesh felt firm under his fingers, meaning it would actually be safe to eat. He beamed at Reggie and took a huge bite. “Thanks!”
Reggie smiled back. “I’m glad you’re eating something before music.”
“I have glucose tablets,” Luke said, mouth full of apple. Julie always made sure he had extra in his bag because of how hard he used his Gift in music class. He wasn’t sure he needed them, but he liked making Julie happy.
Reggie just shook his head and looked in his lunch bag, probably searching for something else to give to Luke. It was funny Reggie thought Alex was the mom friend, when it was so obvious it was him.
“I’ll be fine, promise,” Luke said when Reggie came up literally empty-handed.
Reggie didn’t look mollified. “Didn’t Willie pack you any fruit?”
Luke scowled and tossed Reggie a bag of baby carrots. Baby carrots were nasty. Too bitter and too crunchy. Luke hated them. “I think Willie thinks I’m a rabbit.”
“You’re cute enough to be one.” Reggie winked at Luke as he took the bag. “Don’t you like these? They’re crunchy.”
“They’re carrots,” Luke said, wishing he knew how to make Reggie understand. Reggie liked everything. “And come on, it’s time for music!”
Reggie tossed the bag of carrots into his lunch bag, chewing hurriedly on the one he’d managed to jam into his mouth. “Did you want to grab something from the caf before we go?”
Luke shook his head. The cafeteria smelled weird and the French fries he’d tried one time had been soggy. He’d nearly thrown up. “Nope,” he said decisively. “I’ll eat something when I get home. I’ll be fine.”
Reggie’s face let Luke know how unhappy he was about that.
“I’ll be okay, I swear!” Luke said, “you really don’t have to take care of me.”
“Okay.” Reggie said it like he didn’t believe it at all. Luke threw his arm around Reggie’s shoulders, feeling a huge rush of affection for his friend. He was really lucky that Reggie, and Alex, and Willie and Flynn and especially Julie were in his life. It didn’t matter at all if he was too stupid for school, his friends would love him anyway.
As long as he had them, and his music, everything would be fine.
Ray wasn’t sure how it’d happened, but all four boys and two girls had ended up doing their homework at the dining room table while he made dinner.
They were surprisingly quiet, and seemed focused. But every time he glanced over, he caught Luke touching Julie’s hair or playing with her hand or doodling on her notebook. She seemed to be enjoying his attention so Ray let it go. Besides, he trusted her to tell Luke off if he was really keeping her from her work.
“Hey, Alex,” Luke said, “can you help me with my math from today?”
Alex looked up from whatever it was he’d been writing, tongue still peeking from his mouth. “What are you working on?”
“Here.” Luke passed him the textbook.
Alex reviewed it for a moment, then turned to Julie. “Can we trade places?”
“I have to sit beside Willie? Ew,” Julie joked as she picked up her books to switch with Alex. Luke watched her leave with a mournful expression. Ray rolled his eyes.
He turned back to where he was peeling potatoes. Luke seemed to like mashed potatoes, especially if they were made with enough butter to taste. He’d also made broccoli au gratin, because Luke would actually eat broccoli if cheese was involved. It was the fish that was the wildcard.
Ray’s plan was to pan fry the fish and serve it with only lemon, salt and pepper. He’d chosen Alaskan Halibut for its mild flavour and slightly thicker meat, hoping it would be close enough to chicken that Luke would like it.
It was amazingly difficult planning meals around someone as picky as Luke.
Speaking of, Luke had gotten up from the table and had wandered into the kitchen. He opened the pantry and took out a box of crackers and started eating them out of the box. He left the pantry door open. “What’re you making?”
Ray slammed down the annoyance over the open pantry door. He didn’t want to snap at Luke, especially not with Reggie in the room. Luke didn’t deserve Ray’s temper for something so minor, and Reggie didn’t need to be triggered. Besides, Luke never seemed to close cupboard doors anyway. Getting mad at him most likely wouldn’t help. “Fish. With broccoli and mashed potatoes. I’m putting cheese on the broccoli.”
Luke swallowed, eyes going straight to the package of fish thawing on the counter. “Okay,” he said, clearly unhappy. He shoved some crackers into his mouth.
Ray sighed internally. Hopefully he’d eat some potatoes and broccoli at least. “How’s your math going?”
“It’s fine. Alex is teaching me,” Luke said with a grin.
“Which is hard to do when you’re not here,” Alex called from the table.
“I’m talking to Ray!” Luke called back. His grin widened. “How are you?”
“Fine,” Ray said with a small chuckle. The boy was incorrigible. “But don’t you think you should learn your math?”
“It’s so boring,” Luke whined. “And I’ve got this song in my head that I’m just dying to go write. Do you ever feel that? Like you have to create something so bad, it’s just going to burst out of you, if you don’t?”
“I have, actually,” Ray said, impressed by Luke’s passion. “When I’ve seen something I’ve really wanted to take a photo of. The way the light moves over a person’s face, or the colours of a landscape. Yeah, I know what you mean.”
Luke beamed at him, and Ray felt a moment of real connection with the boy. Out of the four of them, Luke seemed the most open, but Ray sometimes felt Luke was actually the hardest to get to know. Reggie was the most trusting, and Alex and Willie were both guarded but were starting to let Ray in. Luke, on the other hand, didn’t really share what he was thinking or feeling. Having this small moment with him felt important.
“What if you work really hard on math for twenty-five minutes, and then when you’re done, you can spend fifteen minutes on your song before dinner? I’ll even set the timer,” Ray offered, hoping it would help Luke get back to work.
Luke titled his head. “And I wouldn’t have to do any more math after the twenty-five minutes are up?”
It was on the tip of Ray’s tongue to remind Luke that school should be a priority over his music, but he didn’t. Luke’s Gift was being a musical Empath. He was literally born to be a musician and nothing Ray said would shift Luke’s priorities. “No,” Ray said finally.
Luke’s huge smile came back. He put the box of crackers down on the counter instead of putting it away, and went back to the dining room table, ruffling Reggie’s hair on his way and tugging on one of Flynn’s braids before scooting beside Alex. He bent over the text, then sat up, pulled off his socks and dropped them on the floor before bending back over the text. Alex started explaining what Luke needed to know, and it looked like Luke was actually listening.
Ray set the oven timer for twenty-five minutes, like he promised.
He picked up the potato peeler and went back to work. A couple of minutes passed, and Ray glanced up to check on everyone’s progress.
Willie was taking notes from his history textbook, while Reggie and Flynn were studying chemistry together. He thought Julie was working on something for her English class.
Luke was tilted back on his chair, staring at the ceiling, while Alex looked at him with abject frustration.
Ray took a breath, a similar feeling of frustration flaring in his chest. Luke really needed to learn to focus. “Luke,” he said with just enough tone that the boy immediately looked at him. “Math.”
“Okay,” Luke said. He lowered his chair and bent over the text book.
“Alright,” Alex said. “Now, back to functions and relations.”
Luke looked up at Ray. “How many minutes do I have left?”
“Focus, Luke!” Ray snapped, “or I’ll reset the timer!”
Luke’s Jaw hardened. “I’m trying!”
“Try harder,” Ray said, exasperated. It didn’t look like Luke was trying at all.
“Fine!” Luke put both elbows on the tables and glared at the textbook.
Ray went back to the potatoes.
The children’s voices lowered to a dull murmur and Ray prepared the rest of the meal. He got ready to fry the fish, noting that there were only three minutes left on the timer and Luke hadn’t complained at all. He looked over at the table. The praise he had for Luke dying on his lips.
“He went to the studio,” Julie said at Ray’s confused look. “He said he couldn’t concentrate.”
Luke had left his math book on the table and his dirty socks on the floor.