Chapter Text
Jack walked through the empty school, the hat he was forced to wear itched his head terribly, and the heat was getting to him. He noticed the hall, or rather the church they always sang in was nearby. He sighed and walked in. He sat on a bench and stared at the large statue of Jesus on the cross. The sun shone through the yellow glass windows, illuminating the room with a sort of golden, caramel colour. The statue glimmered slightly in the light if you looked at it right. Jack took off the itchy cap and scratched at his head for a minute. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head, leaving a small prayer before grabbing his cap and walking back out.
The hallway echoed with his slow, lazy footsteps. He decided he wanted to find simon, who was probably still sleeping. He headed towards Simon's dorm, only 5 doors down from him. He walked halfway across the school to get there, since he'd been wondering for a while now.
Once there, he knocked on the dark wood, loudly calling out Simon's name.
"Simon? Are you awake?" He said in his obnoxiously ear-splitting voice. After a minute, the door opened, revealing a disheveled looking simon. His dark curls were tangled and he looked like he could fall asleep standing.
"You don't usually sleep in THIS late. What time did you got to bed at?" Jack questioned.
"I don't know..." Simon mumbled tiredly.
"Well, are you just gonna stand there or can I come in?" Jack retorted with his usual cocky smirk. Simon blinked slowly, trying to process what he asked. After a moment he shuffled out of the way and got back into his bed.
"Come on, si, what's wrong with you? Are you sick?" Jack groaned, exasperated.
"I'm tired... It's too warm..." Simon mumbled.
"Maybe cus you're in bed with long pajamas on. Don't you have something shorter?”
Simon shook his head and went over to his drawer, looking at what he could wear.
"You know we have to wear uniform." Jack pointed out.
"They can't force me to."
"Yes, they could."
Simon sighed and grabbed his uniform, going into the bathroom to change. Jack waited on his bed, taking off his hat to scratch at his head, yet again. Simon came out looking a bit more awake, then looked confused.
"What's wrong with your head?" He asked, walking over.
"Nothing, the hats are just scratchy."
"Sure you don't have lice?" Simon teased, knowing it would piss off Jack.
"Ew! No, I don't have lice, Simon! It's just too warm today." Jack cried.
"Bit defensive." Simon joked, to which Jack glared at him.
They ended up going out to the garden. Jack was sitting on the picnic bench, right under the sun, versus Simon was sitting against a tree in the shade. Their head master walked past and could see them from the window in the hallways. He sighed and stormed out.
"Jack Merridew, get that cap back on your head!" He stood, arms crossed in anger.
Jack quickly argued with a, "But, sir!" To which he received a very stern look that made him put the cap back on. Once he left Jack groaned and put his head down on the table.
"It can't be that bad." Simon chuckled.
"It is." Jack groaned
"Why's mine not itchy then."
"Cus ours are different material, Simon."
"How come, they're from the same place?" Simon asked, confused.
"Father bought the more expensive ones."
"Just swap yours out with Maurice's one." Simon suggested which left Jack smirking.
They walked to Maurice's dorm, hoping the door wouldn't be locked. Thankfully, it wasn’t. Maurice had 2 uniforms, according to his mother- who is quite the lady, he needed 2 just in case. So he took one home and left one in school. Jack crept inside and swapped out his cap for Maurice’s one, sitting in the chair. He looked much more relaxed. He snuck back out and him and Simon ran off. The rest of the day they spoke of nonsensical tales and theories of what Roger and Maurice might be doing. Then a heavy sadness hung over the air. Their conversation reminded them of the fact all their friends were spending their summer having a good time, going anywhere they wanted. Meanwhile, Simon and Jack were stuck here. Roger and Maurice were probably playing in the park or eating junk food at the fair. But Jack and Simon were stuck with walking about, reading or playing games. The problem with talking was the fact they ran out of things to talk about. And the same games got repetitive and boring after a few days.
“Remember that time Roger and Maurice were holding hands and skipping together and then they fell down the stairs?" Simon mentioned, laughing to himself.
"They're such idiots." Jack replied with a smile. Despite the fact Simon didn't get the wanted amount of respect out of the two, he still found them funny.
Later, a while after dinner, Simon laid in bed while writing in his diary. Eventually he began nodding off, leaving his diary open in front of him. Jack, of course being bored as always, went into Simon's dorm. When he saw that Simon was asleep he smirked and grabbed his diary. He sat on the floor with his back up against the bed and began reading. He thought it would be hilarious until he saw his name across dozens of entries. He read everything Simon had wrote about him in the past few days. That's all he could manage to read before Simon woke up and stretched.
“Jack, what are you doing in here?” He asked groggily. He sat up and rubbed his eyes then noticed how Jack had his diary. Jack immediately became defensive and threw the diary onto the bed.
“What did you read?”
“Nothing, Simon, don’t be batty!” Jack exclaimed. Simon was about to continue arguing but suddenly stumbled and held onto his desk for support. Jack, being the stubborn boy he was- and despite faltering for a second, continued. He looked concerned but it quickly dispersed into anger as he spoke.
“You’re always doing this, always throwing a faint!”
Simon opened his mouth to speak, but passed out.
When he woke up, Jack was still there. He looked pissed but Simon noticed the glass of water beside him on the bedside table. He noticed that worried look in Jack’s eyes. He noticed how uneasy Jack looked as he nervously shifted and kept feeling Simon’s forehead for any signs of a fever.
“Did you really mean it?” Jack asked quietly, looking at the ground.
“Hmm? Oh, the things I wrote..?” Once Jack nodded in confirmation, Simon continued. “Yeah, I meant it…” Jack went silent and looked away. For a second Simon thought he finally won. The great and mighty, Christian Jack, who can sing C sharp, might actually like him. Until all hope was shattered when Jack looked repulsed.
“You like boys?” He spat out, looking disgusted. When Simon stared at him, not having the confidence to say anything back, Jack sharply turned around and left. “Why is he so irritated.” Simon thought to himself.