29. closure

TWENTY NINE

closure

Thursday, April 17th

August didn't know he'd see Jay again so soon. He thought he'd never speak to his old team ever again. But there they were; the boys who ruined his life standing before him, not one thing different about them other than subtle appearance changes. Like the piercing in Jay's left ear, Jackson's buzzcut, and Kai's bright red hair.

It felt like he was dreaming. No, he was having some sort of nightmare. Because dreams were made of Isaiah, and nightmares like this belonged to people like Jackson. People like Jay.

Jackson hunched over, leaned in, gave August a mocking grin. "Did the fall make you lose your ability to speak, too?"

Isaiah let go of August's hand and slid out of the booth before August could stop him, the taller boy standing at his full height, only a few inches taller than Jackson. "What's your problem?" Isaiah snapped, shoving Jackson backward, causing him to stumble into a few of his teammates. "You must be really fucked in the head."

Jackson straightened up, scowling. "Nah," he muttered. "That's all you and your boyfriend."

Isaiah raised his arm, curled his fingers into a fist, but an arm wrapping around his waist kept him from swinging. "Alright, big guy," Steve grumbled from behind him. "You can't afford to get into a fight. Not now."

August went to reach for Isaiah, but a hand curled around his wrist, making him flinch. He looked up to see Jay staring down at him, face relaxed and eyes gleaming. He'd come to despise that look. "Can I talk to you outside?" he asked, and August faltered, brows sewn together in confusion.

"You've got to be shitting me," Isaiah sneered, gripping Jay's shoulder and pushing him back, forcing him to let go of August. "You're the last person that should be near August. Especially alone."

Jay raised his hands in surrender, but he was as calm as always, one thing that hadn't changed about him. "I have no ill intentions," he told him, raising an eyebrow. "I just want to talk."

"Yeah," Isaiah scoffed. "Not happening."

"Isaiah." August touched his elbow, making him transfer his attention to him instead. "I can take care of myself. Trust me."

Isaiah's face softened. "I trust you," he said honestly. He side-eyed Jay, watched him as if he would jump out at any second. "I don't trust him."

August glanced at Jay, who was still staring at him, and he shifted in his seat. "I'm gonna hear what he has to say," he whispered, and Isaiah looked like he was about to protest, but August quickly added, "We'll be in sight, okay? So if anything happens, you'll be able to see."

Isaiah was reluctant. "Okay..." August gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his arm, letting his touch linger before he got up. Jackson rammed his shoulder against his as he passed, and he heard Steve mumbling something to Isaiah. August dug his nails into his palms; people were probably suspecting Isaiah of being gay now, and it was all his fault. He knew he was anxious about coming out, yet he'd brought the trouble to him.

Jay was in front of him, strides slow and long, and August crossed his arms against his chest. He didn't want to be anywhere near him, but he wanted to hear what he had to say. A part of him hoped he was here to apologize, but deep down he knew that, even if he was, it wouldn't change anything. Jay had beat him to the ground, and he watched as someone had almost killed him. No amount of self-development could make August forgive what he did.

August stopped when Jay leaned against a lightpost, the yellow lighting casting a daunting shadow across his face. August kept his distance. "What do you want?"

Jay glanced at August, then back at the windows of the diner, the tables filled with their teammates. Isaiah had his shoulder pressed to the wall, eyes trained on the pair, and he simply shrugged off whoever tried to talk to him. August smiled inwardly—he was like a guard dog.

"Is he?" Jay asked, eyes lazily dragging back over to meet August's. "Your boyfriend. Isaiah."

August hated how Isaiah's name sounded on Jay's lips. He mentioned him like he was nothing, like he was simply a bug that wouldn't stop bothering him. Isaiah deserved to be spoken of as if he was the sun, the moon, and the stars themselves. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

Jay shrugged, gaze intense, still as unnerving as it was years ago. "It's not, you're right," he stated. "But I'm curious."

August frowned. "Is that what you wanted to talk about? My love life? If so, just fuck off."

Jay watched him closely; it seemed like he was analyzing him. August shifted again, and Jay glanced down, a flash of realization in his eyes when he noticed the prosthesis. He was wearing basketball shorts, encouraged by Isaiah. "It'll be hot," he'd told him. "Wear shorts. Nothing to be afraid of."

August cleared his throat. "What do you want?" he repeated, nails pressing into the underside of his arms. "I don't want to be out here any longer than I need to."

"I got kicked off the team," Jay said. August faltered; he remembered his brother's words. "Because I got into a fight with some guy from the JV team. He was making rude remarks about rumors—not ones about you, but me."

"Am I supposed to feel bad for you?" August snapped. "'Cause I don't."

The corner of Jay's lips pulled upward. "Not expecting you to," he replied, then continued. "The rumors reached my parents. I don't know how, but they did. They confronted me about it after they received the news I was kicked off the team. They said they thought it was all just some stupid rumor, but my being pulled off the team confirmed it.

"So, they kicked me out of the house. My mom hit me for the first time, slapped me so hard I felt like my face was on fire. And my dad gripped me so tight around my arms that it gave me bruises." He paused, touched his wrists tentatively, as if he was remembering. "They took Dom, my brother, and moved down here. I'm living with Kai back in Lakewood."

August clenched his jaw, felt his teeth grind together. "That's tough, Jay." He wasn't trying to belittle his experience, but he was so mad. The fact he didn't help August when rumors spread about him, but now expected August to pity him for having the same thing happen. "On the brightside, you didn't almost die."

For the first time, August saw his eerily calm facade drop into something resembling anger. He pushed off the post and took a step toward August, leaned down, searched his eyes for something, but he didn't know what. "You know, everyone is blaming you."

August felt anxiety bubble up inside his stomach, but he managed to stand his ground. "You getting kicked off the team is your fault," he whispered harshly. "Control your temper, yeah? But the getting kicked out of your house part? It's your parents. You can't blame me for what your parents did. They did it, they refused to accept you, not me."

"I'm not blaming you," Jay responded, words said through gritted teeth. "It's everyone else."

"But you're not convincing them otherwise, are you?" August shot back. "They listen to you. They always have, and always will. I don't give a shit what goes on back at Lakewood anymore. I don't give a shit what goes on with you either. I'm done."

Jay's eyes hardened, filled with a palpable sense of fury, and he grabbed August by the collar of his shirt. "You—" Before Jay could finish his sentence, August, on instinct, swung, connecting his fist to the higher point of his cheek. Jay let go, took a few steps back, his fingertips grazing the area that'd been struck.

"What the fuck, August—"

August cringed. "Don't touch me," he spat. "Don't say my name. You make me sick."

Jay glared and straightened up. He looked as if he was about to say something, but August spoke up before he could. "I'm done," he said again, feeling like he was bound to cry any second. "You ruined my life. I'm sorry about what happened to you, I am, and I hope living with Kai is better. Because he's a decent guy. But I don't care about you. I don't care about your life or your future. The only thing I care about is moving on, which I have, and you and the team mean nothing to me. Especially you."

August didn't bother to linger, he turned around and marched back inside, Isaiah already shuffling out of his seat and making his way over. He met him in the middle, gathered August in his arms and hugged him tightly, and August gripped the back of his jersey with everything he had in him. He buried his face in the crook of his neck, and a few teardrops spilled onto his collarbone, but Isaiah just held him tighter.

"Are you okay?" he murmured into his ear, running his hand up and down August's back. "You hit him hard. Did he say anything?"

August sniffed, shaking his head. "I'll tell you later." He pulled back and wiped his hands over his face, groaning. "I hate crying in public. Fuck."

Isaiah chuckled weakly. "Come on," he said, placing his hand on his lower back, pushing him in the direction of the bathrooms. August leaned against the sink once inside, and Isaiah grabbed a paper towel and wet it with cold water. He placed his free hand against the counter next to August's hip, other one dabbing the cold towel underneath the blond's eyes.

August was quiet as Isaiah cooled his skin. While he was doing that, he slid his hand underneath Isaiah's jersey and placed his palm against his side, fingertips brushing his smooth skin. Isaiah jerked a little at the contact, laughing breathlessly. "Cold," he murmured. "As always."

He let his eyes flutter shut, and Isaiah took that moment to wipe against his eyelids. August smiled, being near this boy lessening the anxiety inside him. He slid his hand to his abdomen and up his chest, which had Isaiah fully taking a step back. When August opened his eyes, Isaiah was staring at him, his own wide with surprise.

"Stop that," he muttered. "Your hands are cold. A temperature like that should not be anywhere near my nipples."

August burst into laughter, and Isaiah grinned as well, obviously happy seeing him not so down. "Sorry," he wheezed, then held out his arms, beckoning him back to his position between his legs. Plurals counted when he had his prosthesis on. "I won't do it again, promise."

Isaiah narrowed his eyes, but moved forward anyway. He went to try and sooth him again, but August moved in and pressed his lips to Isaiah's, arms resting on his shoulders, fingers clasping near the back of his neck. Isaiah kissed him back for a few moments before pulling away, raising an eyebrow.

"Have you always been horny after you cry?" he joked, but he was partially serious. August snorted.

"Shut up," August said. He went to kiss him again, but Isaiah stopped him with a hand to his mouth. August rolled his eyes, stared him down, then pressed his tongue flat against his palm.

Isaiah pulled his hand away quickly and wiped it fervently against his pants. "August, you're so gross," he complained. "I missed when you were hugging me and being soft."

"You're welcome," August mused. "Now kiss me."

"No," Isaiah grumbled, taking his hand and tugging him to the door. "I'm hungry. And Ashton is probably wondering where I am, because he wanted to play some card game with me."

August sighed. "Fine," he said dramatically. He was acting like a nuisance, trying to mask it as him just wanting to stay and kiss Isaiah (which he did), but he really didn't want to go back out there. Lakewood was bound to still be there, and he didn't want to see Jay, or Jackson, or any of them.

Isaiah must have realized that, because he placed a chaste kiss against his cheek. "You'll be okay," he promised, gently nudging his forehead against August's. "They sat down after you and Jay left."

August nodded and followed him back out, missing the warmth of his hand. When he looked around, he noticed that Lakewood was nowhere to be found, and he sent their table a surprised look once he and Isaiah took their seats once again.

"They left," Morgan explained, smiling warmly at her best friend. "Since Isaiah couldn't risk picking a fight with Jackson, Ashton ended up spitting rolled up straw wrappers from a straw at him. One landed in his drink."

August chuckled and looked over at Ashton, who was beaming proudly. "It was actually three that landed in his drink," he boasted. "He got annoyed and they ended up leaving. Thank you to Steve, Marcus, Morgan, and even Alex for giving me tons of wrappers."

August raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked over at Alex, who appeared embarrassed. "He was annoying," he grumbled. "I wanted to eat my food in peace without having him trying to pick a fight."

Isaiah snorted from beside August, and Alex sent him a scowl. "What are you laughing at?" he snapped.

"Nothing," Isaiah said with a chuckle. "Thanks."

"Whatever," Alex grumbled, sinking back down into his seat. But he ended up peeking over his booth a few seconds later, an awkward, uncomfortable look to his face. "I have a question. Are you two... like, actually dating?"

August glanced at Isaiah, curious as to what he would say. He had his reasons to say no, and yeah it would sting, but—

"Yeah," Isaiah breathed, hand brushing August's under the table. "Yeah, we are."

"Fucking knew it," Steve said, then high-fived Morgan, who grinned.

"I was joking all those times before," Alex muttered, "but shit. Okay. Right." He gave them an awkward thumbs up, then returned to his group.

Poor, poor Ashton, just looked lost. "How did everyone know this but me?" he exclaimed, shocked. "I didn't even notice anything! I mean, I'm happy for you two, but what the fuck?"

"Oh my God," Steve muttered. "Ashton, you're a literal fucking dumbass. An oblivious dumbass. It was so obvious."

"I really do have one brain cell," Ashton whispered, placing his hand against his forehead. Then he perked up and pointed at Isaiah with a confused frown. "So does that mean you're gay?"

Isaiah bit back an amused smile, lips twitching. "Yes, Ash. I'm gay."

Ashton then moved his index finger to August. "And you're gay?"

August was trying his hardest not to laugh. "I'm bisexual."

Ashton nodded slowly, taking it all in, before he grinned happily. "Cool."

___

A/N: do you have a favorite character from this group of dorks?

A: morgan is my babie.