Try, Part 1
Master Post
Jensen stared out the window, watching the trees go by until they became a blur and he had to close his eyes. He kept his iPod on, though the thing could’ve been muted for all that he was listening to it. The real point was that it kept him from having to keep up stilted conversations with his father. With the buds in his ears, the silence between them didn’t seem so awkward. No words were spoken as they stopped for gas, his dad getting out of the car and filling up the tank and then wordlessly moving back out onto the road.
It was better that way. Jensen didn’t want to talk about what they were doing, where they were going. He hadn’t wanted to move in the first place, but his dad had already put the plan in motion months ago. “You’ll love it,” he’d said, not even sparing Jensen a glance over the top of his newspaper. “Where you’re going, there’s a great drama program.” Jensen sighed at the thought, letting his head bump up against the glass. Of course, it didn’t matter that the school he’d been going to had been fine. And senior year wasn’t exactly the best time to start all over again.
It was dark by the time they made it to the house, and Jensen snorted at the fact that they’d gotten there just in time for him to not be able to see it properly. Not that he really wanted to. It was kind of fitting actually, the darkness. He supposed if they’d pulled up to a nice, happy home on a bright, sunny day, he would’ve resented it for clashing with his mood. He had every doubt that the sight actually would’ve made him feel better.
There were already boxes everywhere, and Jensen carried his bags into his room without turning the light on. He didn’t want to see it. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and just barely made out where his bed had been placed, and that was enough. He dumped his bags in a corner and lay down on the bed, eventually curling over onto his side. He didn’t sleep, at least not at first, and he didn’t close his eyes, either. He just stared into the darkness, wishing he was anywhere but here.
Jared sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom, Chad sitting on the edge of his bed. He tightened his hold on his Wii remote, as if doing so could accomplish something, wanting so badly to finally kick the shit out of Chad in Smash Bros. But the bastard always played as Snake with items on high, and his “show time” special was just about the most unfair advantage Jared had ever seen.
“Motherfucker!” Jared shouted, thankful that his parents weren’t home yet. Though he did hear Megan’s “I heard that” filter through his bedroom door. He threw his remote down as Chad laughed obnoxiously, silently vowing that next time, they were playing by his rules.
“Beat you every time, Padaloser!” Chad cackled, and Jared gave him the finger. “Aw, come on!”
“I’m done.” Jared went back to the Wii home screen and then turned the system off, leaving his remote on the floor beside him. He knew he probably sounded childish, but he didn’t care. He was through with Chad’s gloating.
“Don’t be like that!” Chad reached a foot out from the bed and nudged him with it. Jared shrugged it off, and Chad just kept grinning. “How are you ever gonna get better if you turn it off every time I beat you?”
“Fuck off, Chad,” he grumbled, this time low enough for no one else to hear.
Chad snickered and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let’s talk about something else.” He flopped back on Jared’s bed, and Jared looked up at him, wary of his tone. “Let’s talk about your competition for drama this year.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
Chad rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, looking down at Jared. “You mean you haven’t heard?” he asked, brows twisted, as if anyone who knew anything should know what he was talking about. Jared shook his head silently, his mouth closed tight. He hated the way Chad patronized him sometimes. “There’s some new kid in town. Last name’s Ackles. I forget what his first name is.” Chad shrugged and made a face. “Something weird. Anyway, his dad’s s’posed to be this big shot actor back where they used to live, except it’s not like he’s in the papers and shit, right? I mean, who’s a big shot, if you’ve never heard their name on TV before?”
“The point, Chad,” Jared reminded him. It amazed him how often he had to do that with his friend.
“The point,” Chad answered, rolling his eyes, “Is that this kid is already set up to come to Waterville High, and people are already talking about him. Apparently, he was really involved in drama at his old school back in Bumblefuck, Wherever, and everyone already thinks he’s gonna be some big celebrity star or some shit. I heard Kripke’s already got fuckin’ stars in his eyes when he’s talking about the kid.”
“Shit.” Jared felt his stomach twinge and drop. Kripke was Waterville High’s Artistic Director. If the new kid had a hold of Kripke, he had a hold of everything Jared was aiming for.
“Yep.” Chad swung his legs down and sat on the edge of the bed again. “So, I’m thinking this kid might get in the way of you and your lesbian awards.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Thespian awards,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Whatever.” Chad shrugged and knocked his ankles together, eyes lighting up. “Got any nachos?”
The house hadn’t looked much better in the daylight. Well, it had been nice. It was big, opulent. Just the kind of thing to make him stand out, Jensen had thought, frowning at the idea. But the main problem was that it wasn’t home. It was all so cold and unfamiliar, even the school.
Jensen hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and stared up at the building in front of him. Waterville High, lots of bricks and windows surrounded by pretty little trees. He guessed it was nice. Hell, he knew it was nice. He knew it was his own problems keeping him from enjoying it, but if he’d had things his way, he wouldn’t even be here. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before heading up the stairs, figuring he’d have to make the best of it, anyway.
He pushed aside his anger for the moment and timidly entered the building. He stalled after he stepped through the doors, fidgeting. It was one thing to think about it, but it was another to have it staring him in the face, high school; the guys, the girls, the cliques. They were all watching him, and he was sure that they had been outside, too. But it was different inside the building, among all the schoolbags, classrooms, and lockers.
Waterville seemed to pride itself on its diverse student population, and, strangely enough, those diverse students all seemed to band together under one common thread: superiority. Guys in button-downs, polos, tanks, and trench coats mingled in no real order, no obvious clique, but they all raised their eyebrows at him. Girls in jeans, capris, and mini-skirts all walked together and wrinkled their noses at him in both confusion and contempt. "What's he doing here?" There were goths, punks, preppies, and sluts, and they all managed to look at him like he was something foreign. Then again, he guessed he was.
Jensen shouldered his bag awkwardly and looked up at a sign that pointed towards the main office. He followed it and stepped inside the room, a secretary looking up at him in surprise. He guessed outsiders really were rare here. She smiled then, realization showing in her face.
"You must be the new kid," she said brightly, though Jensen didn't feel the joy in that statement. He knew that that was how everyone else at the school would think of him, too. She looked as if she was about to say something else when a man poked his head in from a side office and then hurried over.
"Jensen!" the man said, rushing to shake Jensen's hand. His smile was wide and eager, eyes lighting up beneath his dark hair. "Jeffrey Dean Morgan, your new principal." He paused while shaking Jensen's hand and turned to the secretary, still grinning. "Jensen Ackles," he said, emphasizing the last name, and Jensen felt like he wanted to sink into the floor. The principal turned back to him. "We're delighted to have you here, Jensen. I've had the privilege of speaking with your father. We're so happy to welcome a student with your talent, son."
"And my income," Jensen thought, but he smiled politely and inquired about his schedule. He gratefully accepted his list of classes and the principal's praise, and then he turned and left the office, searching for room 117.
Jared pulled his pre-calc textbook from his schoolbag and dropped it down onto his desk along with his notebook. He picked up his pencil and noisily rattled it on the desk, waiting for class to start. Chad was staring at him, and Jared refused to look back, gaze fixed on the blackboard straight ahead.
"You're a mess," Chad said finally, snickering. "You're so nervous about this new kid."
"Shut up," Jared snapped. "Maybe I wouldn't be if you'd quit bringin' him up."
Chad snorted. "Right. Pretend I'm the problem. We both know that you're...Holy shit." Jared's head snapped to Chad and then followed Chad's gaze to the door. "He's here."
Jared watched the new kid walk in with Singer, their teacher. He had on a well-worn Zeppelin t-shirt and jeans, one hand in his pocket and the other holding on to the strap of his black backpack. He looked awkward as hell, long lashes fanning out over downcast eyes, mouth closed in a bit of a grimace, constantly fidgeting.
"Alright, class." Singer stood in front of his desk with the new kid at his side, and he looked entirely too pleased. Jared narrowed his eyes at the kid, even if the new kid wasn't looking at anyone. "I'd like to introduce you to your new classmate. This is Jensen Ackles, and he's going to be graduating with you all this year. So let's make him feel welcome, shall we? Jensen?"
Jensen nodded at Singer and finally looked up at the class, telling them a little about himself. Jared barely even listened, just feeling his dislike for the guy reaching new levels. He did hear when Singer brought up Jensen's last name, and Jensen went on about his actor father. Jared heard a tiny crack, looking down to find that he'd been holding his pencil a little too tightly. He flushed a little, embarrassed, though no one seemed to have noticed.
Chad scoffed when Jensen finally took the empty seat that was left up front. "Asshole."
"Tell me about it," Jared whispered. "Thinks he's so much better because his daddy's got a job that pays. Bet he can't act for shit."
"Even has one of those dumb names rich people give their kids," Chad continues. "Fuckin' Jensen."
By the end of the day, Jensen was sick of telling everybody else who he was. There were eight periods, and in seven of them, he was forced to stand up in front of the class and tell the other students a little bit about himself. That little bit usually turned into more when the teachers brought up his father and what he did for a living. Jensen might’ve appreciated the principal and teachers being so excited about him if it meant that the students were, too. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Jensen could see it in their faces. It was even worse for the students who had more than one class with him. Here he was, this kid from Hyannis who should have graduated last year, and now he was showing up in Waterville to automatic praise, the staff fawning all over him. And it was all because of his rich dad. They hated him.
Drama had to have been the worst class of the day. Kripke could barely contain his excitement at having Jensen as a student. It was the last class period, eighth, and Jensen wanted nothing more than to feign sickness and leave early. But that would only mean that he’d have to face the whole ordeal the next day instead of at that moment. He supposed that it was better to do it sooner rather than later.
“Jensen was the top actor at his old school, weren’t you Jensen?” Kripke had asked, his arm around Jensen’s shoulders as he grinned at the class. The students looked anything but happy. “He was in the Barnstable High School Drama Club. It’s one of the best drama programs in the country. The best in the Northeast, for sure. I’m sure we could all learn a little something from him.” Kripke laughed then and patted Jensen on the back as he pulled away. “You could probably teach this class, couldn’t you, Jensen?”
Jensen fought the urge to cringe. He didn’t miss the dirty looks that his classmates were giving him. “Oh, I don’t know about that, sir…”
“Nonsense!” Kripke cut him off, thrusting a crumpled stack of papers into his hand. Jensen looked down at the typed words in surprise, noticing that it was a script from a play held at Waterville the year before. “Go ahead! Show us what you can do! Read us a scene!”
Jensen swallowed hard, sure that he was blushing more than he ever had. There was no possible way to make this more awkward. His hands shook a little as he held the script, trying to focus on a part to read. But all he could focus on were the stares of the students and the negativity in the room that were all pointed at him. He eventually managed to stumble his way through a scene. It had to have been the worst reading possible, stilted and missing all the right emotions due to nerves. He tried to look up every so often, to not just read words on a page, and when he did, he kept his eyes at a level where he didn’t have to truly focus on anyone.
The longer he went on, the worse he felt. He could’ve sworn he was sweating, his mouth going dry, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He would pause every so often, waiting for Kripke to tell him that he’d done enough. When Kripke said nothing, Jensen kept going, because as terrible as it was, he was too afraid to stop. And when he finally forced himself to, taking a deep breath and keeping his eyes glued to the paper in his hands, the silence was deafening.
Then Kripke exploded with critical acclaim, making Jensen’s lackluster performance seem almost Oscar-worthy. Jensen gratefully accepted Kripke’s invitation to finally take a seat. On his way to an open desk, Jensen managed to look at one person. He recognized the kid from a couple of his other classes that day. He had long brown hair and hazel eyes. And he was looking at Jensen like he wanted to kill him.
The thing about Waterville High was that it was the only public high school in Waterville, which meant that Jared had been with the same students since freshman year. Having a new kid in the class was a lot like having a black sheep on a farm. ”A black sheep who was suddenly the favorite sheep of all,” Jared thought bitterly. He’d never hated anyone like this before.
Jared hadn’t realized how much he loved drama until he got to high school. He saw the fall variety show freshman year and couldn’t resist finding out more about Waterville’s drama program. Next thing he knew, he had a supporting role in the fall play and even scored himself a small, non-singing role in the spring musical. In sophomore year, after another supporting role in the fall play, he managed to get a small part in the one-act play competition. He knew then that he wanted this. He wanted to be an actor.
Junior year had been his best year so far, auditioning and participating as much as he could. He was determined to rack up enough points to get himself into the Thespian Society before graduation. The Thespian Society would mean a banquet, awards, scholarships; just what Jared needed to get where he wanted, into college and the rest of his life.
At the end of junior year, Jared had thirteen points. He needed to get seven by April to make it in. Until now, he’d never questioned his ability to get those points. Then Jensen Ackles stepped foot in the building, and everything changed.
“Fuckin’ dick,” Chad said, sitting on the table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Jared was in a chair to the right of Chad, facing out from the table, their friends gathered around. They always hung out here before class started, a few of them grabbing breakfast sandwiches while the others still rubbed the sleep from their eyes.
“He could ruin everything.” Jared usually ate breakfast here, but he didn’t this time. He didn’t feel right, his stomach tight and coiled. He felt the rest of his body tense as they talked about Jensen. “Getting into the Thespian Society…It’s my plan, you know? It’s all I really want.”
“You’ll get in.” Jared felt a light slap on his shoulder and looked up to see Genevieve smiling down at him from her own seat on the tabletop. “Come on. He can’t possibly take all that away from you.”
“Gen, he was here one day, and already Kripke’s bending over for him!” Riley argued, leaning back against the wall, still within earshot, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Exactly!” Sandy chimed in, her ass in one chair, feet propped up on another. “Gen’s right. Kripke’ll get over his idol worship after a few days, and Jay will be fine. No big deal.”
Danneel snorted. “You’re forgetting he’s got a rich actor for a father.” Jared turned and glared at her where she was sitting across the table. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “What? I’m just telling you the truth, Jay. Everyone knows a parent like that means instant favoritism, no matter who gets crushed for it. I’d say you have reason to worry.”
“Fuck, I know.” Jared slumped down in his chair and let his head thunk back against the edge of the table, staring up at the tiled ceiling. “This fuckin’ sucks.”
“Whatever, dude.” Chad tossed the empty wrapper from the sandwich he’d eaten into a nearby trashcan. “I say you just fight him for it, you know? Act him out of the place.”
“Yeah, go for it.” Everyone in the group turned towards Danneel, who laughed and rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, I wasn’t telling him to just give up. There’s nothing worse than just lying down and dying. I say you give this Jensen guy a run for his money. I mean, you said he sucked, right?”
“Well, yeah, the reading he did yesterday was terrible,” Jared said, making a face.
Riley nodded. “It sucked balls. Can’t believe Kripke let him go on that long.”
“Well, there you go.” Sandy smiled at him. “Shouldn’t be too hard to still try and make him look bad, should it?”
Jensen hoped that his second day of class would be a little bit better. After all, his introductions were over with. The teachers didn’t have to sell him to the rest of the class anymore. Now he could just blend in, or at least try to. That was all he’d wanted to do in the first place. Blend in, do his work, graduate, and move on.
He got to pre-calc quicker than he had the day before, and he thought that maybe he was already getting to know his way around this place. Part of him hated that, knowing that it was inevitably going to become a part of his life. But he just reminded himself that it was only for the school year, and then he’d be gone. Either way, he got a better pick of seats this time. As students rushed to get in and seated before the bell rang, Jensen realized something. He realized it as a familiar face hesitated while walking down his aisle, not bothering to lessen the glare in his eyes. Jensen had chosen to sit just in front of the long-haired, hazel-eyed kid who quite obviously hated him.
It didn’t bother him. Or he at least told himself that it didn’t. He just sat with his pencil in his hand and his books on his desk, taking notes and looking attentive when he was supposed to. But he still heard the whispers and snickers from behind him. He heard his name spat out viciously a few times, and he wondered if they were saying it loud enough for him to hear on purpose. But he stayed calm. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a response. He didn’t need to.
Jensen turned in his seat and grabbed for his schoolbag when the period was over, noticing a distinct difference in the feel of the material. He looked down at it curiously and felt his cheeks redden. And that’s when he heard the kids behind him snickering again.
“Hey, man, I don’t think the bag’s supposed to go that way.”
Jensen looked up at the cocky, smirking face of a blonde kid back and to the left of him. He turned fully around when the one he recognized from the day before stood and shouldered his own bag, grinning down at him with nasty humor.
“Think you should go back where you bought that thing and ask for your money back, Ackles.” The kid walked past him and then turned, stepping backwards through the rest of the aisle, long hair falling in his face. “Figure they’d know to sell more quality items to a celebrity like yourself.”
The bastards laughed as they left the classroom, and Jensen stared down at his bag. It was inside out, the straps and the rest of his books inside of it, zipped up. He swallowed, his teeth grinding together. He’d seen this done before, but he’d never had it done to him. He knew how much of a job it was to actually get the bag back open, and he fumed silently as he reached down and hauled it up into his arms, somehow managing to carry the books he’d had on his desk, as well. He barely made it out into the hallway before he dropped them, and it took even more work to retrieve them and get through the throng of kids to his next class on time.
Genevieve let her tray drop down onto the lunch table and stared at Jared, mouth slightly open. “You really nuggeted the new kid?”
Jared raised an eyebrow and then laughed along with the rest of his friends at the table. He shrugged and sat down, taking a sip of his soda. “Just trying to make him feel welcome, that’s all.” He high-fived Chad and Riley when they automatically held their hands up for him.
“Well done, bro!” Riley cheered, and Danneel gawked at him.
“You guys are jerks!” she said finally, turning back to her fries.
“What?” Chad spread his arms out defensively. “If I remember correctly, it was you chicks who said to make him look bad!”
“Yeah, by acting,” Sandy corrected, leaning across the table and enunciating the word very carefully. “We didn’t say you should torture the poor kid.”
“Torture,” Jared scoffed, taking a bite of his pizza. “Who’s talking about torture? It was just a nugget for Christ’s sake! Also…” He held a hand up and dropped his slice of pizza, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “We’ve gotta stop referring to him as a kid. Dick’s older than we are.”
“You could use his name. I believe you said it was Jensen?”
“Yeah, why do you think that is, anyway?” Riley said, ignoring Gen’s plea for common sense. “I mean, what, he got held back?”
“I heard the guy’s slow,” Chad chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Dumber’n a bag o’ bricks.”
“Says the guy who went to summer school after first grade,” Danneel said flatly, narrowing her eyes at Chad when he flipped her off.
“So what if he did get held back?” Sandy scraped the fork along the plate that held her salad, frowning. “Happens to a lot of people. Why does it matter if it happened to Jensen?”
The table went quiet for a moment. Chad gave Sandy an incredulous look, but didn’t follow it up with any words. Jared stopped eating altogether, staring down at his tray. “Fuck this, Sand,” he said eventually, kicking a leg of the table and folding his arms across his chest. “Can’t believe you’re making me feel bad for this asshole.”
“Well, you should.” Jared looked up at Danneel, who locked eyes with him across the table. “You’re the one who left him carrying a nugget around for no good reason.” Her expression turned to mocking amusement as she clapped her hands together. “I bet all the kids who saw him laughed!”
Jared sneered at her and decided to ignore the topic altogether, turning to Genevieve. “You girls got your plan set for the variety show?”
“Of course!” Gen said, slowly beginning to smile. “It’s gonna be a Western theme!”
Jensen didn’t expect to make friends quickly, if at all. So he wasn’t disappointed that his audition for the fall variety show received only token applause from the other students. Not that their reaction mattered, anyway. Jensen probably could’ve stood there and stared out at the auditorium seats for a full five minutes, doing nothing else, and Kripke still would’ve offered him a spot.
As far as Jensen understood it, the fall variety show was more of a fundraiser than anything else, and participation wasn’t restricted to drama students. There was that feeling of superiority again, this time in the institution of Waterville itself. Waterville High was better than other schools. Waterville wouldn’t stoop to coin drops or car washes. No, Waterville would put on a show featuring its entire student body, because even the ones who couldn’t act were still talented enough for the general public to pay for their performances. And the students didn’t even have to act. They could dance, sing, juggle, whatever they decided was fun and artsy enough to do. And no matter what they did, the audience would clap and cheer, showing their appreciation for something they could just as easily do amongst themselves, in their own living rooms.
Jensen didn’t act. Jensen brought his guitar, the one his father had used in college and passed down to him, and sang. He didn’t take credit for the song, because it wasn’t his. But it wasn’t a well-known song, either. Not yet, anyway. He smiled when he thought that it would be; that his friends back home would make it one day. Until then, he could credit them here and spread his knowledge of their talent as far as he could. So he sang for them, for the friends he remembered and loved, and for the life he’d enjoyed before this one. And even though the song was slow and fit his current mood, it lifted him somehow, just closing his eyes and picturing what he’d left behind.
“You go believin' in your Lancelot
Well it's all in vain
And you're chasin' picket fences
There's always hell to pay
I met many a girl in here
With the same story line
All them boys on those white horses
Don't know how to ride”
He sang, and he didn’t care if the other students watching or auditioning were looking up at him with contempt. If he continued to care about it, he wouldn’t last long here at all. And when he sang the same song on the night of the show, he ignored his own contempt for Waterville and its general population. He smiled and politely thanked the crowd for their praise.
He mingled backstage when he was finished, though he supposed that in order to mingle, he’d have to actually associate with people. Since no one wanted to associate with him aside from Kripke, he mostly just leaned against the wall backstage, watching the rest of the show from a spot in the shadows where no one off stage could see him. He leaned back as Jared shouldered past him with his friends, Chad and Riley. He’d learned Jared’s name eventually. Not from Jared himself, but, being in a few of the same classes, he was bound to hear the name eventually; especially in drama, where everyone was an active participant. They glared at him, and he just nodded and offered them a small smile, fighting their icy attitudes with his own warmth.
“Good luck,” he encouraged.
Jared scoffed and shook his head, marching onto the stage muttering, “As if we need it.”
Jensen watched them work. Chad wasn’t an actor, wasn’t in drama with them, but Jared and Riley had recruited him to help him with their piece in the show. It was an old standoff, one Jensen immediately recognized before Jared had explained it to everyone at the auditions. Jared had picked a good subject for the show’s theme.
“You thought I’d trust you?” Jared was in character on stage, performing for the crowd that had gathered. He was cool and confident in a tense moment, as he should’ve been, and Jensen smirked a little, even chuckled to himself. He didn’t do it out of mockery, but because he liked seeing people in their element. And Jared was in his. “Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We’re gonna have to earn it.”
“He can sing,” Jared said, scowling at the plate of French fries in front of him. He was at a diner with his friends the night after the show, and he knew that they were getting tired of him sulking, but they all understood it.
“He sure can!” Genevieve sipped at her milkshake and leaned back in the booth. “I’m sorry, Jay, but you can’t deny it. Maybe he had a bad first day, but the guy’s talented.”
“And hot,” Danneel added. Jared shot her a look, as did Riley, and she held up a hand. “In that, ‘He’s my good friend’s mortal enemy, and I would never wish him well,’ sort of way.”
Jared frowned and turned back to his fries, trailing them through ketchup and not actually eating them. Jared had known that Jensen would be competition for him, but knowing that Jensen could actually sing made things a hell of a lot more difficult. And his friends knew it, because Jared’s vocal abilities were severely lacking. He hadn’t yet gotten a worthy part in the spring musical, but he wanted to so badly. He was trying to work on it somehow, to practice, just so he could get that part and have more points to his name. It was important to him. He needed it.
Back at school on Monday, Jared perked up when Jensen’s name was called in pre-calc. Singer was asking him to work out a problem on the board for the class. Jared smirked and looked over at Chad, who mirrored his expression. “Dumber’n a bag o’ bricks,” Chad had said, and Jensen had never before spoken a word or offered up his answers in class. Jared couldn’t wait to see how this played out.
Jensen nodded and slowly stood up with his notebook in hand, tucking his pencil behind his ear. Jared leaned forward in his chair, watching Jensen walk up to the board and take a piece of chalk in hand. He couldn’t help snorting when the chalk broke in half as Jensen pressed it to the board, but tried not to seem too excited to see Jensen fail spectacularly in front of everyone. Jensen was undeterred, grabbing another piece of chalk and looking down at his notebook as he started writing.
As Jensen wrote, he began talking, quietly at first, and then he grew louder, explaining the problem as he went along. Jared looked down at his own notebook and then back up at Jensen, fidgeting and suddenly feeling uneasy again. Singer was standing back and watching quietly, a slow smile growing on his face as if he were impressed. Jared squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath. When he looked again, Jensen was just finishing up the problem with an answer that made a hell of a lot more sense than the one Jared had in his notebook. Singer patted Jensen on the back and sent him back to his seat.
“Fuck, can this bastard do everything?” Jared whispered to Chad through clenched teeth, eyes burning holes in the back of Jensen’s head.
“Something to say, Jared?”
Jared’s head jolted towards Singer, whose eyes were fixed on him, brows raised. Jared cleared his throat and calmed his expression. “Uh, no, sir. Nothing. Sorry.”
Jared tried not to think about Jensen after that. He tried not to remember what Genevieve had said about Jensen being talented. He tried not to see the obvious talent that Jensen displayed in drama. But the more time went on, the harder that became. And when it came time to audition for the fall play, there was no possible way he could ignore it.
The fall play was not a musical. Waterville seemed to enjoy saving its musicals for spring. This year, the fall play was A Streetcar Named Desire, and Jensen was auditioning for the lead, as his father and Kripke would have expected and demanded of him. But Stanley Kowalski had an anger in him that Jared seemed to portray much stronger and easier than Jensen could. And Jensen didn’t have to guess why.
Jensen had auditioned before Jared, and Kripke was delighted with the performance, even if Jensen felt like he’d struggled with it. And Jared had stood there watching, seething. Jensen knew that Jared hated him, and he knew why. It was plain to see. What was even plainer was how Jared took that hate and turned it into fuel for his character, bringing Stanley Kowalski to life in a heartbeat. It was a passionate display, and Jensen had almost felt chastened by it.
But it didn’t change the decision that Kripke had likely made before Jared had even stepped foot on the stage. In the end, Jensen was Stanley Kowalski. Jared was below him, cast as Mitch, a friend of Stanley’s. The casting of the play was certainly not mimicking real life.
The auditorium cleared out when it was all over. Jensen hung back, hesitating to move. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly afraid, but he knew that what had just happened here had done nothing to help him with the general student body. And when it came to Jared, Jensen thought he’d have to watch out for things far worse than being nuggeted. At the moment, Jared wouldn’t even look at him. They were two of the last people left in the auditorium, both of them getting their things together to shove into their schoolbags.
Riley, who was set to play the Strange Man in Streetcar, glared at Jensen and patted Jared’s shoulder before walking out. Then Jared and Jensen were the last people in the room, bending over the bags they had settled on the squeaky auditorium chairs as they readied themselves to leave, Jared silently fuming and visibly ready to burst. Jensen’s concerned glances and hesitant breaths that normally preceded speech were ignored. He could just walk away and let this go, just leave the angry silence between them. But the guilt over his unfair advantage kept him from doing so.
“I think you’re good,” he said, his voice sounding too loud in the large, empty space of the auditorium. Jared zipped his bag up with such force that Jensen thought it was going to break. He stood up straight and cleared his throat, trying again. “Better than good. You should’ve gotten the part.”
Jared picked his bag up as if to sling it over his shoulder, but then slammed it back down in frustration, his body tense. “Yeah?” His jaw clenched, fiery eyes meeting Jensen’s. “Then why didn’t I?”
Jensen was silent for a moment, taken aback not by the emotion in Jared’s response, but by the fact that Jared has responded at all. “Because of me,” he admitted quietly, hating the way that it sounded, but hating the fact that it was true even more. He ducked his head for a second before forcing himself to look back at Jared. “I was gonna say something to Kripke,” he admitted, because the thought had occurred to him, to stop Kripke and tell him that this wasn’t right. “But-”
“Don’t.” Jared’s mouth had barely moved, even with the force of the word, and he took a step forward that was more like a shot forward, as if he were just containing himself. “I don’t need your help,” Jared continued, his face reddening. “I can get my own roles. And even if I can’t, I’d rather not have them than get them because of you. Because you pitied me.”
“I don’t,” Jensen said, and Jared scoffed and turned away, shaking his head. Jensen swallowed, trying to find the right words to say. “I mean, it’s just…I know that I don’t deserve this. I know how wrong it all is.” He sighed and shrugged, not knowing how to make it better. “I really do think you’re good. You’re talented. And you obviously love what you do.” He laughed bitterly and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “That’s more than I can say for myself.” His eyes caught movement, seeing Jared turn back to look at him.
“You’re kidding me.” Jared’s tone was flat, disbelieving. “You’re kidding me!” he repeated, and Jensen looked up at Jared’s widened eyes. Jared laughed then, a hysterical sound that wasn’t very happy, and he shook his head again. “You show up and screw everything up for me, everything I’ve been working for, and you don’t even like it?” Jensen stared and stood still, not answering. Jared laughed again, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair before letting them drop back down to his sides. “Then why the hell do you do it? What, just to fuck other people over?”
“No,” Jensen answered vehemently, brows furling and nose crinkling with the thought. “No, of course not.” Jared crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an answer, and Jensen sighed again. “I do it because it’s what’s expected of me,” he said, his arms flopping against his sides tiredly. “I do it because it’s what my dad does, and it’s what he wants me to do, and if I ever talk about doing anything else, he just…” Jensen looked away, eyes on the floor again. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Jared was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Thought you were eighteen. Can’t you do whatever you want?”
Jensen looked up at Jared, half-angry that Jared had questioned his ability to stand up for himself and half-surprised that Jared looked a little more interested than angry now. “You try telling him that.” The next words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he bit his tongue lightly after realizing he’d let something more personal slip. “You try telling him anything.”
He went still then, and they stayed in awkward silence together. Jared fidgeted a little, unsure of himself. He was looking at Jensen now, eyes roaming and appraising, as if maybe he was seeing Jensen in a new light. Jensen’s face was flushed, and he kept his eyes averted, feeling uncomfortable under Jared’s scrutinizing gaze. When his eyes flicked briefly over Jared’s face, he saw something different in Jared’s expression. It could’ve been curiosity, pity, or guilt, but whatever it was, it made Jensen wish that he’d never said anything.
“I gotta go,” Jared said finally, and it was so quiet that Jensen almost thought it hadn’t been said. But then Jared was grabbing his bag and tossing it over one shoulder, hurrying out of the auditorium.
Part 2
Jensen stared out the window, watching the trees go by until they became a blur and he had to close his eyes. He kept his iPod on, though the thing could’ve been muted for all that he was listening to it. The real point was that it kept him from having to keep up stilted conversations with his father. With the buds in his ears, the silence between them didn’t seem so awkward. No words were spoken as they stopped for gas, his dad getting out of the car and filling up the tank and then wordlessly moving back out onto the road.
It was better that way. Jensen didn’t want to talk about what they were doing, where they were going. He hadn’t wanted to move in the first place, but his dad had already put the plan in motion months ago. “You’ll love it,” he’d said, not even sparing Jensen a glance over the top of his newspaper. “Where you’re going, there’s a great drama program.” Jensen sighed at the thought, letting his head bump up against the glass. Of course, it didn’t matter that the school he’d been going to had been fine. And senior year wasn’t exactly the best time to start all over again.
It was dark by the time they made it to the house, and Jensen snorted at the fact that they’d gotten there just in time for him to not be able to see it properly. Not that he really wanted to. It was kind of fitting actually, the darkness. He supposed if they’d pulled up to a nice, happy home on a bright, sunny day, he would’ve resented it for clashing with his mood. He had every doubt that the sight actually would’ve made him feel better.
There were already boxes everywhere, and Jensen carried his bags into his room without turning the light on. He didn’t want to see it. His eyes adjusted to the darkness and just barely made out where his bed had been placed, and that was enough. He dumped his bags in a corner and lay down on the bed, eventually curling over onto his side. He didn’t sleep, at least not at first, and he didn’t close his eyes, either. He just stared into the darkness, wishing he was anywhere but here.
Jared sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom, Chad sitting on the edge of his bed. He tightened his hold on his Wii remote, as if doing so could accomplish something, wanting so badly to finally kick the shit out of Chad in Smash Bros. But the bastard always played as Snake with items on high, and his “show time” special was just about the most unfair advantage Jared had ever seen.
“Motherfucker!” Jared shouted, thankful that his parents weren’t home yet. Though he did hear Megan’s “I heard that” filter through his bedroom door. He threw his remote down as Chad laughed obnoxiously, silently vowing that next time, they were playing by his rules.
“Beat you every time, Padaloser!” Chad cackled, and Jared gave him the finger. “Aw, come on!”
“I’m done.” Jared went back to the Wii home screen and then turned the system off, leaving his remote on the floor beside him. He knew he probably sounded childish, but he didn’t care. He was through with Chad’s gloating.
“Don’t be like that!” Chad reached a foot out from the bed and nudged him with it. Jared shrugged it off, and Chad just kept grinning. “How are you ever gonna get better if you turn it off every time I beat you?”
“Fuck off, Chad,” he grumbled, this time low enough for no one else to hear.
Chad snickered and rolled his eyes. “Fine. Let’s talk about something else.” He flopped back on Jared’s bed, and Jared looked up at him, wary of his tone. “Let’s talk about your competition for drama this year.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”
Chad rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, looking down at Jared. “You mean you haven’t heard?” he asked, brows twisted, as if anyone who knew anything should know what he was talking about. Jared shook his head silently, his mouth closed tight. He hated the way Chad patronized him sometimes. “There’s some new kid in town. Last name’s Ackles. I forget what his first name is.” Chad shrugged and made a face. “Something weird. Anyway, his dad’s s’posed to be this big shot actor back where they used to live, except it’s not like he’s in the papers and shit, right? I mean, who’s a big shot, if you’ve never heard their name on TV before?”
“The point, Chad,” Jared reminded him. It amazed him how often he had to do that with his friend.
“The point,” Chad answered, rolling his eyes, “Is that this kid is already set up to come to Waterville High, and people are already talking about him. Apparently, he was really involved in drama at his old school back in Bumblefuck, Wherever, and everyone already thinks he’s gonna be some big celebrity star or some shit. I heard Kripke’s already got fuckin’ stars in his eyes when he’s talking about the kid.”
“Shit.” Jared felt his stomach twinge and drop. Kripke was Waterville High’s Artistic Director. If the new kid had a hold of Kripke, he had a hold of everything Jared was aiming for.
“Yep.” Chad swung his legs down and sat on the edge of the bed again. “So, I’m thinking this kid might get in the way of you and your lesbian awards.”
Jared rolled his eyes. “Thespian awards,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Whatever.” Chad shrugged and knocked his ankles together, eyes lighting up. “Got any nachos?”
The house hadn’t looked much better in the daylight. Well, it had been nice. It was big, opulent. Just the kind of thing to make him stand out, Jensen had thought, frowning at the idea. But the main problem was that it wasn’t home. It was all so cold and unfamiliar, even the school.
Jensen hefted his backpack onto his shoulder and stared up at the building in front of him. Waterville High, lots of bricks and windows surrounded by pretty little trees. He guessed it was nice. Hell, he knew it was nice. He knew it was his own problems keeping him from enjoying it, but if he’d had things his way, he wouldn’t even be here. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before heading up the stairs, figuring he’d have to make the best of it, anyway.
He pushed aside his anger for the moment and timidly entered the building. He stalled after he stepped through the doors, fidgeting. It was one thing to think about it, but it was another to have it staring him in the face, high school; the guys, the girls, the cliques. They were all watching him, and he was sure that they had been outside, too. But it was different inside the building, among all the schoolbags, classrooms, and lockers.
Waterville seemed to pride itself on its diverse student population, and, strangely enough, those diverse students all seemed to band together under one common thread: superiority. Guys in button-downs, polos, tanks, and trench coats mingled in no real order, no obvious clique, but they all raised their eyebrows at him. Girls in jeans, capris, and mini-skirts all walked together and wrinkled their noses at him in both confusion and contempt. "What's he doing here?" There were goths, punks, preppies, and sluts, and they all managed to look at him like he was something foreign. Then again, he guessed he was.
Jensen shouldered his bag awkwardly and looked up at a sign that pointed towards the main office. He followed it and stepped inside the room, a secretary looking up at him in surprise. He guessed outsiders really were rare here. She smiled then, realization showing in her face.
"You must be the new kid," she said brightly, though Jensen didn't feel the joy in that statement. He knew that that was how everyone else at the school would think of him, too. She looked as if she was about to say something else when a man poked his head in from a side office and then hurried over.
"Jensen!" the man said, rushing to shake Jensen's hand. His smile was wide and eager, eyes lighting up beneath his dark hair. "Jeffrey Dean Morgan, your new principal." He paused while shaking Jensen's hand and turned to the secretary, still grinning. "Jensen Ackles," he said, emphasizing the last name, and Jensen felt like he wanted to sink into the floor. The principal turned back to him. "We're delighted to have you here, Jensen. I've had the privilege of speaking with your father. We're so happy to welcome a student with your talent, son."
"And my income," Jensen thought, but he smiled politely and inquired about his schedule. He gratefully accepted his list of classes and the principal's praise, and then he turned and left the office, searching for room 117.
Jared pulled his pre-calc textbook from his schoolbag and dropped it down onto his desk along with his notebook. He picked up his pencil and noisily rattled it on the desk, waiting for class to start. Chad was staring at him, and Jared refused to look back, gaze fixed on the blackboard straight ahead.
"You're a mess," Chad said finally, snickering. "You're so nervous about this new kid."
"Shut up," Jared snapped. "Maybe I wouldn't be if you'd quit bringin' him up."
Chad snorted. "Right. Pretend I'm the problem. We both know that you're...Holy shit." Jared's head snapped to Chad and then followed Chad's gaze to the door. "He's here."
Jared watched the new kid walk in with Singer, their teacher. He had on a well-worn Zeppelin t-shirt and jeans, one hand in his pocket and the other holding on to the strap of his black backpack. He looked awkward as hell, long lashes fanning out over downcast eyes, mouth closed in a bit of a grimace, constantly fidgeting.
"Alright, class." Singer stood in front of his desk with the new kid at his side, and he looked entirely too pleased. Jared narrowed his eyes at the kid, even if the new kid wasn't looking at anyone. "I'd like to introduce you to your new classmate. This is Jensen Ackles, and he's going to be graduating with you all this year. So let's make him feel welcome, shall we? Jensen?"
Jensen nodded at Singer and finally looked up at the class, telling them a little about himself. Jared barely even listened, just feeling his dislike for the guy reaching new levels. He did hear when Singer brought up Jensen's last name, and Jensen went on about his actor father. Jared heard a tiny crack, looking down to find that he'd been holding his pencil a little too tightly. He flushed a little, embarrassed, though no one seemed to have noticed.
Chad scoffed when Jensen finally took the empty seat that was left up front. "Asshole."
"Tell me about it," Jared whispered. "Thinks he's so much better because his daddy's got a job that pays. Bet he can't act for shit."
"Even has one of those dumb names rich people give their kids," Chad continues. "Fuckin' Jensen."
By the end of the day, Jensen was sick of telling everybody else who he was. There were eight periods, and in seven of them, he was forced to stand up in front of the class and tell the other students a little bit about himself. That little bit usually turned into more when the teachers brought up his father and what he did for a living. Jensen might’ve appreciated the principal and teachers being so excited about him if it meant that the students were, too. Instead, it had the opposite effect. Jensen could see it in their faces. It was even worse for the students who had more than one class with him. Here he was, this kid from Hyannis who should have graduated last year, and now he was showing up in Waterville to automatic praise, the staff fawning all over him. And it was all because of his rich dad. They hated him.
Drama had to have been the worst class of the day. Kripke could barely contain his excitement at having Jensen as a student. It was the last class period, eighth, and Jensen wanted nothing more than to feign sickness and leave early. But that would only mean that he’d have to face the whole ordeal the next day instead of at that moment. He supposed that it was better to do it sooner rather than later.
“Jensen was the top actor at his old school, weren’t you Jensen?” Kripke had asked, his arm around Jensen’s shoulders as he grinned at the class. The students looked anything but happy. “He was in the Barnstable High School Drama Club. It’s one of the best drama programs in the country. The best in the Northeast, for sure. I’m sure we could all learn a little something from him.” Kripke laughed then and patted Jensen on the back as he pulled away. “You could probably teach this class, couldn’t you, Jensen?”
Jensen fought the urge to cringe. He didn’t miss the dirty looks that his classmates were giving him. “Oh, I don’t know about that, sir…”
“Nonsense!” Kripke cut him off, thrusting a crumpled stack of papers into his hand. Jensen looked down at the typed words in surprise, noticing that it was a script from a play held at Waterville the year before. “Go ahead! Show us what you can do! Read us a scene!”
Jensen swallowed hard, sure that he was blushing more than he ever had. There was no possible way to make this more awkward. His hands shook a little as he held the script, trying to focus on a part to read. But all he could focus on were the stares of the students and the negativity in the room that were all pointed at him. He eventually managed to stumble his way through a scene. It had to have been the worst reading possible, stilted and missing all the right emotions due to nerves. He tried to look up every so often, to not just read words on a page, and when he did, he kept his eyes at a level where he didn’t have to truly focus on anyone.
The longer he went on, the worse he felt. He could’ve sworn he was sweating, his mouth going dry, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He would pause every so often, waiting for Kripke to tell him that he’d done enough. When Kripke said nothing, Jensen kept going, because as terrible as it was, he was too afraid to stop. And when he finally forced himself to, taking a deep breath and keeping his eyes glued to the paper in his hands, the silence was deafening.
Then Kripke exploded with critical acclaim, making Jensen’s lackluster performance seem almost Oscar-worthy. Jensen gratefully accepted Kripke’s invitation to finally take a seat. On his way to an open desk, Jensen managed to look at one person. He recognized the kid from a couple of his other classes that day. He had long brown hair and hazel eyes. And he was looking at Jensen like he wanted to kill him.
The thing about Waterville High was that it was the only public high school in Waterville, which meant that Jared had been with the same students since freshman year. Having a new kid in the class was a lot like having a black sheep on a farm. ”A black sheep who was suddenly the favorite sheep of all,” Jared thought bitterly. He’d never hated anyone like this before.
Jared hadn’t realized how much he loved drama until he got to high school. He saw the fall variety show freshman year and couldn’t resist finding out more about Waterville’s drama program. Next thing he knew, he had a supporting role in the fall play and even scored himself a small, non-singing role in the spring musical. In sophomore year, after another supporting role in the fall play, he managed to get a small part in the one-act play competition. He knew then that he wanted this. He wanted to be an actor.
Junior year had been his best year so far, auditioning and participating as much as he could. He was determined to rack up enough points to get himself into the Thespian Society before graduation. The Thespian Society would mean a banquet, awards, scholarships; just what Jared needed to get where he wanted, into college and the rest of his life.
At the end of junior year, Jared had thirteen points. He needed to get seven by April to make it in. Until now, he’d never questioned his ability to get those points. Then Jensen Ackles stepped foot in the building, and everything changed.
“Fuckin’ dick,” Chad said, sitting on the table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Jared was in a chair to the right of Chad, facing out from the table, their friends gathered around. They always hung out here before class started, a few of them grabbing breakfast sandwiches while the others still rubbed the sleep from their eyes.
“He could ruin everything.” Jared usually ate breakfast here, but he didn’t this time. He didn’t feel right, his stomach tight and coiled. He felt the rest of his body tense as they talked about Jensen. “Getting into the Thespian Society…It’s my plan, you know? It’s all I really want.”
“You’ll get in.” Jared felt a light slap on his shoulder and looked up to see Genevieve smiling down at him from her own seat on the tabletop. “Come on. He can’t possibly take all that away from you.”
“Gen, he was here one day, and already Kripke’s bending over for him!” Riley argued, leaning back against the wall, still within earshot, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Exactly!” Sandy chimed in, her ass in one chair, feet propped up on another. “Gen’s right. Kripke’ll get over his idol worship after a few days, and Jay will be fine. No big deal.”
Danneel snorted. “You’re forgetting he’s got a rich actor for a father.” Jared turned and glared at her where she was sitting across the table. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. “What? I’m just telling you the truth, Jay. Everyone knows a parent like that means instant favoritism, no matter who gets crushed for it. I’d say you have reason to worry.”
“Fuck, I know.” Jared slumped down in his chair and let his head thunk back against the edge of the table, staring up at the tiled ceiling. “This fuckin’ sucks.”
“Whatever, dude.” Chad tossed the empty wrapper from the sandwich he’d eaten into a nearby trashcan. “I say you just fight him for it, you know? Act him out of the place.”
“Yeah, go for it.” Everyone in the group turned towards Danneel, who laughed and rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, I wasn’t telling him to just give up. There’s nothing worse than just lying down and dying. I say you give this Jensen guy a run for his money. I mean, you said he sucked, right?”
“Well, yeah, the reading he did yesterday was terrible,” Jared said, making a face.
Riley nodded. “It sucked balls. Can’t believe Kripke let him go on that long.”
“Well, there you go.” Sandy smiled at him. “Shouldn’t be too hard to still try and make him look bad, should it?”
Jensen hoped that his second day of class would be a little bit better. After all, his introductions were over with. The teachers didn’t have to sell him to the rest of the class anymore. Now he could just blend in, or at least try to. That was all he’d wanted to do in the first place. Blend in, do his work, graduate, and move on.
He got to pre-calc quicker than he had the day before, and he thought that maybe he was already getting to know his way around this place. Part of him hated that, knowing that it was inevitably going to become a part of his life. But he just reminded himself that it was only for the school year, and then he’d be gone. Either way, he got a better pick of seats this time. As students rushed to get in and seated before the bell rang, Jensen realized something. He realized it as a familiar face hesitated while walking down his aisle, not bothering to lessen the glare in his eyes. Jensen had chosen to sit just in front of the long-haired, hazel-eyed kid who quite obviously hated him.
It didn’t bother him. Or he at least told himself that it didn’t. He just sat with his pencil in his hand and his books on his desk, taking notes and looking attentive when he was supposed to. But he still heard the whispers and snickers from behind him. He heard his name spat out viciously a few times, and he wondered if they were saying it loud enough for him to hear on purpose. But he stayed calm. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of a response. He didn’t need to.
Jensen turned in his seat and grabbed for his schoolbag when the period was over, noticing a distinct difference in the feel of the material. He looked down at it curiously and felt his cheeks redden. And that’s when he heard the kids behind him snickering again.
“Hey, man, I don’t think the bag’s supposed to go that way.”
Jensen looked up at the cocky, smirking face of a blonde kid back and to the left of him. He turned fully around when the one he recognized from the day before stood and shouldered his own bag, grinning down at him with nasty humor.
“Think you should go back where you bought that thing and ask for your money back, Ackles.” The kid walked past him and then turned, stepping backwards through the rest of the aisle, long hair falling in his face. “Figure they’d know to sell more quality items to a celebrity like yourself.”
The bastards laughed as they left the classroom, and Jensen stared down at his bag. It was inside out, the straps and the rest of his books inside of it, zipped up. He swallowed, his teeth grinding together. He’d seen this done before, but he’d never had it done to him. He knew how much of a job it was to actually get the bag back open, and he fumed silently as he reached down and hauled it up into his arms, somehow managing to carry the books he’d had on his desk, as well. He barely made it out into the hallway before he dropped them, and it took even more work to retrieve them and get through the throng of kids to his next class on time.
Genevieve let her tray drop down onto the lunch table and stared at Jared, mouth slightly open. “You really nuggeted the new kid?”
Jared raised an eyebrow and then laughed along with the rest of his friends at the table. He shrugged and sat down, taking a sip of his soda. “Just trying to make him feel welcome, that’s all.” He high-fived Chad and Riley when they automatically held their hands up for him.
“Well done, bro!” Riley cheered, and Danneel gawked at him.
“You guys are jerks!” she said finally, turning back to her fries.
“What?” Chad spread his arms out defensively. “If I remember correctly, it was you chicks who said to make him look bad!”
“Yeah, by acting,” Sandy corrected, leaning across the table and enunciating the word very carefully. “We didn’t say you should torture the poor kid.”
“Torture,” Jared scoffed, taking a bite of his pizza. “Who’s talking about torture? It was just a nugget for Christ’s sake! Also…” He held a hand up and dropped his slice of pizza, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “We’ve gotta stop referring to him as a kid. Dick’s older than we are.”
“You could use his name. I believe you said it was Jensen?”
“Yeah, why do you think that is, anyway?” Riley said, ignoring Gen’s plea for common sense. “I mean, what, he got held back?”
“I heard the guy’s slow,” Chad chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Dumber’n a bag o’ bricks.”
“Says the guy who went to summer school after first grade,” Danneel said flatly, narrowing her eyes at Chad when he flipped her off.
“So what if he did get held back?” Sandy scraped the fork along the plate that held her salad, frowning. “Happens to a lot of people. Why does it matter if it happened to Jensen?”
The table went quiet for a moment. Chad gave Sandy an incredulous look, but didn’t follow it up with any words. Jared stopped eating altogether, staring down at his tray. “Fuck this, Sand,” he said eventually, kicking a leg of the table and folding his arms across his chest. “Can’t believe you’re making me feel bad for this asshole.”
“Well, you should.” Jared looked up at Danneel, who locked eyes with him across the table. “You’re the one who left him carrying a nugget around for no good reason.” Her expression turned to mocking amusement as she clapped her hands together. “I bet all the kids who saw him laughed!”
Jared sneered at her and decided to ignore the topic altogether, turning to Genevieve. “You girls got your plan set for the variety show?”
“Of course!” Gen said, slowly beginning to smile. “It’s gonna be a Western theme!”
Jensen didn’t expect to make friends quickly, if at all. So he wasn’t disappointed that his audition for the fall variety show received only token applause from the other students. Not that their reaction mattered, anyway. Jensen probably could’ve stood there and stared out at the auditorium seats for a full five minutes, doing nothing else, and Kripke still would’ve offered him a spot.
As far as Jensen understood it, the fall variety show was more of a fundraiser than anything else, and participation wasn’t restricted to drama students. There was that feeling of superiority again, this time in the institution of Waterville itself. Waterville High was better than other schools. Waterville wouldn’t stoop to coin drops or car washes. No, Waterville would put on a show featuring its entire student body, because even the ones who couldn’t act were still talented enough for the general public to pay for their performances. And the students didn’t even have to act. They could dance, sing, juggle, whatever they decided was fun and artsy enough to do. And no matter what they did, the audience would clap and cheer, showing their appreciation for something they could just as easily do amongst themselves, in their own living rooms.
Jensen didn’t act. Jensen brought his guitar, the one his father had used in college and passed down to him, and sang. He didn’t take credit for the song, because it wasn’t his. But it wasn’t a well-known song, either. Not yet, anyway. He smiled when he thought that it would be; that his friends back home would make it one day. Until then, he could credit them here and spread his knowledge of their talent as far as he could. So he sang for them, for the friends he remembered and loved, and for the life he’d enjoyed before this one. And even though the song was slow and fit his current mood, it lifted him somehow, just closing his eyes and picturing what he’d left behind.
“You go believin' in your Lancelot
Well it's all in vain
And you're chasin' picket fences
There's always hell to pay
I met many a girl in here
With the same story line
All them boys on those white horses
Don't know how to ride”
He sang, and he didn’t care if the other students watching or auditioning were looking up at him with contempt. If he continued to care about it, he wouldn’t last long here at all. And when he sang the same song on the night of the show, he ignored his own contempt for Waterville and its general population. He smiled and politely thanked the crowd for their praise.
He mingled backstage when he was finished, though he supposed that in order to mingle, he’d have to actually associate with people. Since no one wanted to associate with him aside from Kripke, he mostly just leaned against the wall backstage, watching the rest of the show from a spot in the shadows where no one off stage could see him. He leaned back as Jared shouldered past him with his friends, Chad and Riley. He’d learned Jared’s name eventually. Not from Jared himself, but, being in a few of the same classes, he was bound to hear the name eventually; especially in drama, where everyone was an active participant. They glared at him, and he just nodded and offered them a small smile, fighting their icy attitudes with his own warmth.
“Good luck,” he encouraged.
Jared scoffed and shook his head, marching onto the stage muttering, “As if we need it.”
Jensen watched them work. Chad wasn’t an actor, wasn’t in drama with them, but Jared and Riley had recruited him to help him with their piece in the show. It was an old standoff, one Jensen immediately recognized before Jared had explained it to everyone at the auditions. Jared had picked a good subject for the show’s theme.
“You thought I’d trust you?” Jared was in character on stage, performing for the crowd that had gathered. He was cool and confident in a tense moment, as he should’ve been, and Jensen smirked a little, even chuckled to himself. He didn’t do it out of mockery, but because he liked seeing people in their element. And Jared was in his. “Two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. We’re gonna have to earn it.”
“He can sing,” Jared said, scowling at the plate of French fries in front of him. He was at a diner with his friends the night after the show, and he knew that they were getting tired of him sulking, but they all understood it.
“He sure can!” Genevieve sipped at her milkshake and leaned back in the booth. “I’m sorry, Jay, but you can’t deny it. Maybe he had a bad first day, but the guy’s talented.”
“And hot,” Danneel added. Jared shot her a look, as did Riley, and she held up a hand. “In that, ‘He’s my good friend’s mortal enemy, and I would never wish him well,’ sort of way.”
Jared frowned and turned back to his fries, trailing them through ketchup and not actually eating them. Jared had known that Jensen would be competition for him, but knowing that Jensen could actually sing made things a hell of a lot more difficult. And his friends knew it, because Jared’s vocal abilities were severely lacking. He hadn’t yet gotten a worthy part in the spring musical, but he wanted to so badly. He was trying to work on it somehow, to practice, just so he could get that part and have more points to his name. It was important to him. He needed it.
Back at school on Monday, Jared perked up when Jensen’s name was called in pre-calc. Singer was asking him to work out a problem on the board for the class. Jared smirked and looked over at Chad, who mirrored his expression. “Dumber’n a bag o’ bricks,” Chad had said, and Jensen had never before spoken a word or offered up his answers in class. Jared couldn’t wait to see how this played out.
Jensen nodded and slowly stood up with his notebook in hand, tucking his pencil behind his ear. Jared leaned forward in his chair, watching Jensen walk up to the board and take a piece of chalk in hand. He couldn’t help snorting when the chalk broke in half as Jensen pressed it to the board, but tried not to seem too excited to see Jensen fail spectacularly in front of everyone. Jensen was undeterred, grabbing another piece of chalk and looking down at his notebook as he started writing.
As Jensen wrote, he began talking, quietly at first, and then he grew louder, explaining the problem as he went along. Jared looked down at his own notebook and then back up at Jensen, fidgeting and suddenly feeling uneasy again. Singer was standing back and watching quietly, a slow smile growing on his face as if he were impressed. Jared squeezed his eyes shut and cursed under his breath. When he looked again, Jensen was just finishing up the problem with an answer that made a hell of a lot more sense than the one Jared had in his notebook. Singer patted Jensen on the back and sent him back to his seat.
“Fuck, can this bastard do everything?” Jared whispered to Chad through clenched teeth, eyes burning holes in the back of Jensen’s head.
“Something to say, Jared?”
Jared’s head jolted towards Singer, whose eyes were fixed on him, brows raised. Jared cleared his throat and calmed his expression. “Uh, no, sir. Nothing. Sorry.”
Jared tried not to think about Jensen after that. He tried not to remember what Genevieve had said about Jensen being talented. He tried not to see the obvious talent that Jensen displayed in drama. But the more time went on, the harder that became. And when it came time to audition for the fall play, there was no possible way he could ignore it.
The fall play was not a musical. Waterville seemed to enjoy saving its musicals for spring. This year, the fall play was A Streetcar Named Desire, and Jensen was auditioning for the lead, as his father and Kripke would have expected and demanded of him. But Stanley Kowalski had an anger in him that Jared seemed to portray much stronger and easier than Jensen could. And Jensen didn’t have to guess why.
Jensen had auditioned before Jared, and Kripke was delighted with the performance, even if Jensen felt like he’d struggled with it. And Jared had stood there watching, seething. Jensen knew that Jared hated him, and he knew why. It was plain to see. What was even plainer was how Jared took that hate and turned it into fuel for his character, bringing Stanley Kowalski to life in a heartbeat. It was a passionate display, and Jensen had almost felt chastened by it.
But it didn’t change the decision that Kripke had likely made before Jared had even stepped foot on the stage. In the end, Jensen was Stanley Kowalski. Jared was below him, cast as Mitch, a friend of Stanley’s. The casting of the play was certainly not mimicking real life.
The auditorium cleared out when it was all over. Jensen hung back, hesitating to move. He wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t exactly afraid, but he knew that what had just happened here had done nothing to help him with the general student body. And when it came to Jared, Jensen thought he’d have to watch out for things far worse than being nuggeted. At the moment, Jared wouldn’t even look at him. They were two of the last people left in the auditorium, both of them getting their things together to shove into their schoolbags.
Riley, who was set to play the Strange Man in Streetcar, glared at Jensen and patted Jared’s shoulder before walking out. Then Jared and Jensen were the last people in the room, bending over the bags they had settled on the squeaky auditorium chairs as they readied themselves to leave, Jared silently fuming and visibly ready to burst. Jensen’s concerned glances and hesitant breaths that normally preceded speech were ignored. He could just walk away and let this go, just leave the angry silence between them. But the guilt over his unfair advantage kept him from doing so.
“I think you’re good,” he said, his voice sounding too loud in the large, empty space of the auditorium. Jared zipped his bag up with such force that Jensen thought it was going to break. He stood up straight and cleared his throat, trying again. “Better than good. You should’ve gotten the part.”
Jared picked his bag up as if to sling it over his shoulder, but then slammed it back down in frustration, his body tense. “Yeah?” His jaw clenched, fiery eyes meeting Jensen’s. “Then why didn’t I?”
Jensen was silent for a moment, taken aback not by the emotion in Jared’s response, but by the fact that Jared has responded at all. “Because of me,” he admitted quietly, hating the way that it sounded, but hating the fact that it was true even more. He ducked his head for a second before forcing himself to look back at Jared. “I was gonna say something to Kripke,” he admitted, because the thought had occurred to him, to stop Kripke and tell him that this wasn’t right. “But-”
“Don’t.” Jared’s mouth had barely moved, even with the force of the word, and he took a step forward that was more like a shot forward, as if he were just containing himself. “I don’t need your help,” Jared continued, his face reddening. “I can get my own roles. And even if I can’t, I’d rather not have them than get them because of you. Because you pitied me.”
“I don’t,” Jensen said, and Jared scoffed and turned away, shaking his head. Jensen swallowed, trying to find the right words to say. “I mean, it’s just…I know that I don’t deserve this. I know how wrong it all is.” He sighed and shrugged, not knowing how to make it better. “I really do think you’re good. You’re talented. And you obviously love what you do.” He laughed bitterly and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. “That’s more than I can say for myself.” His eyes caught movement, seeing Jared turn back to look at him.
“You’re kidding me.” Jared’s tone was flat, disbelieving. “You’re kidding me!” he repeated, and Jensen looked up at Jared’s widened eyes. Jared laughed then, a hysterical sound that wasn’t very happy, and he shook his head again. “You show up and screw everything up for me, everything I’ve been working for, and you don’t even like it?” Jensen stared and stood still, not answering. Jared laughed again, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair before letting them drop back down to his sides. “Then why the hell do you do it? What, just to fuck other people over?”
“No,” Jensen answered vehemently, brows furling and nose crinkling with the thought. “No, of course not.” Jared crossed his arms over his chest and waited for an answer, and Jensen sighed again. “I do it because it’s what’s expected of me,” he said, his arms flopping against his sides tiredly. “I do it because it’s what my dad does, and it’s what he wants me to do, and if I ever talk about doing anything else, he just…” Jensen looked away, eyes on the floor again. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Jared was quiet for a moment before speaking again. “Thought you were eighteen. Can’t you do whatever you want?”
Jensen looked up at Jared, half-angry that Jared had questioned his ability to stand up for himself and half-surprised that Jared looked a little more interested than angry now. “You try telling him that.” The next words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he bit his tongue lightly after realizing he’d let something more personal slip. “You try telling him anything.”
He went still then, and they stayed in awkward silence together. Jared fidgeted a little, unsure of himself. He was looking at Jensen now, eyes roaming and appraising, as if maybe he was seeing Jensen in a new light. Jensen’s face was flushed, and he kept his eyes averted, feeling uncomfortable under Jared’s scrutinizing gaze. When his eyes flicked briefly over Jared’s face, he saw something different in Jared’s expression. It could’ve been curiosity, pity, or guilt, but whatever it was, it made Jensen wish that he’d never said anything.
“I gotta go,” Jared said finally, and it was so quiet that Jensen almost thought it hadn’t been said. But then Jared was grabbing his bag and tossing it over one shoulder, hurrying out of the auditorium.
Part 2