by Kenovay
JC had seethed. But what could he say? Whenever he tried to stand against Jean, public opinion gathered round and battered him down, turned his face red and his speech stumbling, and sent him fleeing, once again bruised by the knowledge that no one cared.
He bent to the sink and splashed water on his heated cheeks. The door opened and closed behind him, and he stiffened, ready to face Jean's smirking face in the mirror. But it wasn't. It was the new boy. The tall, lanky, pretty one, who was obviously born to be part of Jean's inner circle.
"Uh... hey. I saw you looking a bit..."
"Angry," JC finished. Anger was respectable.
"Uh... Upset, more, dude. You okay?"
"Yeah." JC shrugged, meeting the reflected blue eyes. "Family."
"Jean's family?"
"My cousin. That's why I get all his old clothes." JC's mouth twisted.
"Uh, man, I gotta tell you, the trainers look new."
"They are. I saved for... a while."
"Thought so." The boy's face looked indignant. "I'm Justin, by the way."
"JC." JC nodded, but didn't make any other move towards the boy. He preferred to let rejection come to him.
"You're French, right?"
JC lifted a shoulder. "My father was."
"Can you speak it?" JC nodded cautiously. "Any chance you'd help me, man? I'm resitting my GCSE. I wanna get a better grade."
"Jean speaks it more fluently," JC said flatly. "He's completely bilingual."
"I... I'd prefer you. If you want to."
JC blinked, and tried not to notice the way the red mouth shaped around the words "you" and "want". "Sure, man. If you really want me to."
"For sure."
