Ten Inch Hero Fanfic: Beautiful Inside (2/?)
Author: poestheblackcat
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: All canon
Warning/Spoilers: Allusion to abuse.
Summary: There’s a new kid at Jen’s school. Both outcasts, they become fast friends. Unfortunately, he has to move away. They meet years later at the Beach City Grill. Very pre-film to during film. NOT Priestly/Jen-just friends. Not exactly AU.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing with these lovely characters.
AN: Chapter title opening line of The Catcher in the Rye; also title of a song by The Ataris. Contains reference to child abuse but not graphic.
Beautiful Inside
Chapter 2: If You Really Want To Hear About It
They got to be good friends. Jen had never been so close to anyone before. They just talked. At recess, at lunch, even during class. He walked her home after school.
Priestly introduced her to the wide world of music. She told him about her favorite books. They discussed pop culture (whether Elvis was alive, who would win in a fight-Courtney Love or Madonna), music, politics, and literature-anything but their lives away from school.
Still, there were times when she wanted to break that silent agreement forged between them. These were the days that Priestly came to school with bruises and winced when he sat down, a skinny arm curled protectively over equally thin ribs.
She’d asked once and he’d looked uncomfortable before quickly changing the subject. She suspected it had to do with his father, whom she’d never seen, and contemplated trying to get him to open up about it, but decided she didn’t want to pry too much and lose his trust. She didn’t want to lose her first real friend.
So she kept inviting him over to do homework and stay for dinner. That way, she could make sure he had a decent meal in him before he went home. He was all bones and angles but his thin frame soon began to fill out. Priestly was never eager to leave and seemed as grateful for her company as she was for his.
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One time at lunch, Jen let slip what she thought about her own looks. Priestly’s reaction surprised her more than anything.
“What?!” he said, dropping his bologna sandwich and looking at her as if she’d grown another head. “Are you crazy? You’re not ugly, Jen. I think you’re pretty.” His ears flushed pink when he realized what that sounded like. “I mean, not that I like you like that,” he backtracked, “but I think you look just fine the way you are.”
“Pretty?” Jen scoffed. “Right. Priestly, I’ve got to be one of the ugliest girls in our school.”
Priestly pursed his lips and tilted his head to examine her from across the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jen. There’s nothing wrong or ugly about the way you look, and besides, looks don’t really matter anyway. You’re smarter and nicer than anyone I know. That’s what really makes a person pretty.”
“You sound like my dad.” Jen put her own sandwich down. “You don’t get it. You’re lucky because you’re…” Jen faltered under Priestly’s scrutiny.
“I’m what?” he prompted stiffly.
She looked up to find herself reflected twice over in the sharp green of his eyes. “Well, you’re…you’re pretty, okay? You’re good-looking; you’re not ugly like I am, so you don’t get how looks are important. You get treated differently.” Priestly flinched.
Hanging his head, he let out a mirthless laugh. “Yeah Jen, sure I get treated differently.” He took a shaky breath. “Kind of sucks sometimes.” When he looked at her again, she was puzzled by the strange expression he wore.
“Know what? I’m done. I’m gonna go wash my hands. Later, Jen.” He stood up and threw his half-eaten sandwich in the trashcan with an angry motion, leaving Jen alone in her confusion.
She spent the rest of the school-day trying to catch his attention to ask him what was wrong with him, was he mad at her for something? He spent the day miles away in deep thought about something.
The walk home was quiet. The awkward silence hung uncomfortably between them.
“Are you coming in?” she asked timidly at her door.
Priestly stood still a moment before nodding. Jen held the door open.
“Jen?” he asked, once they were seated in Jen’s living room. “Can I tell you something?” He sounded scared and lost. He scrubbed his hands nervously down the thighs of his worn and holey jeans.
“You know you can, Priestly,” Jen said softly.
He ducked his head. “Yeah, I know.” He sighed and kept his gaze on his hands. “I…About today. I’m sorry if you thought I was mad at you. I’m not. It’s just…” He stopped and ran a hand through his tangled dark blond hair. “You know, don’t you?” he asked, sounding broken. “About my dad?”
Jen looked down. “Yeah. He hurts you, doesn’t he?”
Priestly sniffed. “I’ve never told anyone.” His throat worked to swallow. “What you said, about my looks, that I’m ‘pretty’…he calls me that…he calls me ‘pretty.’ ” His voice broke and his breathing emerged raggedly from his hunched form. Jen was sure that if she looked up, she’d see tears in his eyes. She didn’t. “He calls me ‘pretty Bo’ before he does it. Every time.”
She didn’t know what to say.
His hands clutched and pulled tightly at his hair, as if trying to forget the pain inside by making it hurt more outside. “I hate the way I look,” he said hoarsely. “I hate it when he…Jen, when he…It makes me feel…”
She knew what to do, though. Jen put her arms around him and held him when he finally broke down and cried.
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They never mentioned it again. There were times when they both thought about it, but nothing was ever said out loud.
The school year was coming to a close when Jen woke to the frantic ringing of the doorbell one night. She heard her father go downstairs to answer it. It was probably one of his parishioners. Jen hoped it didn’t mean anyone had died or was sick.
She crept down to see what the matter was.
“Do you know what time of the night it is, young man?” Her father. His stern voice reverberated though the house.
“Please, sir, I need to see Jen. It’s important.” Priestly. He sounded out of breath. “Please.”
“You can tell her in the morning at school.”
“I can’t wait ‘til then.” Desperate. “We’re leaving.”
Jen stepped into the hallway. “What?”
Her father turned and she could see Priestly, still rather thin in his increasingly threadbare clothes, wide-eyed, breathing heavily and disheveled as if he’d run all the way to her house.
“Jennifer, go upstairs and put some clothes on. You look indecent,” her father admonished.
Jen didn’t care if Priestly saw her in her nightgown. “What do you mean you’re leaving?” she repeated.
He locked eyes with her. “My dad. He found a new job in Iowa. I have to go with him. We’re moving.”
No, he couldn’t leave. He was the only friend she’d ever had who didn’t try to take advantage of her brains or her naïveté. She choked. “When? When are you leaving?”
“Tonight.”
God. Suddenly, the air was too thick to breathe. “No,” she gasped, “no, no, you can’t go with your dad. He hurts you. You could tell the police and-”
Priestly shook his head. “No, Jen. That’s not how it works. I-I have to go with him. I just came to thank you for-for being so nice to me and for being my friend.” He lowered his eyes. “I owe you that much. It means a lot to me.”
Jen pushed past her father to gather Priestly in a tight embrace. Her father let out a scandalized “Jennifer!” They ignored him.
Priestly hugged her back, just as fiercely. She sniffed against his shoulder. “No, thank you, Priestly, for being my friend, and for seeing the real me.”
He sounded as teary as she did when he said, “You’re a good person. I can’t help seeing that.” A beat. “I’ll never forget you, Jen. Thank you.”
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Chapter 3: Something Familiar