Chapter Text
Kenneth Phelps was the one who opened the door. Jude stood on the front steps, looking completely different than he usually did. Travis almost had to do a double take, to make sure that it was actually Jude. The boy was dressed in a pale grey button-up shirt and dark, cool brown pants with nice, black shoes. A handful of flowers wrapped in nice tissue paper was in one of his hands, a messenger bag slung over his other shoulder. No nail polish. “Hello, sir, you must be Mr. Kenneth Phelps. It’s wonderful to meet you. My name is Jude Clark, I’m here to work with Travis on our math assignment. I hope I’m not intruding,” Jude charmed, shifting his bag before offering his hand for a firm handshake with Travis’s father. Kenneth surveyed him, scanning up and down over his appearance before briefly grasping his hand in response, stepping out of the doorway.
“Please, by all means, come in. You’re welcome to our services any time,” Mr. Phelps stiffly responded, ushering Jude inside.
The inside of the house was decently big, furnished with vintage furniture that was kept in spotless condition. It felt cold. The house smelled like pine, most likely due to the cleaning supplies Mrs. Phelps used. Speaking of the woman, Jude quickly took his shoes off before he turned towards her, who had moved to shield her body behind the coat rack by the door. He smiled at her. “You have a wonderful home, Mrs. Phelps. I can’t imagine all the hard work that goes into keeping it so pristine, I’m amazed,” Jude mused, passing on the small bouquet of flowers to Travis’s mother, who looked at Jude with wide, shaky eyes. She nodded, albeit hesitantly, before accepting the flowers from him. As she got closer, Jude could hear a faintly whispered “thank you” come out in a high-pitched warble. He smiled warmly at her in response.
Travis directed Jude upstairs, down the hall, and to a door. He opened the door to reveal his room, an impeccably clean space with baby blue walls and religious memorabilia on the wall above his bed. Jude walked in, placing his messenger bag on the post of Travis’s bed. “Hi, Travis.”
Travis grunted in response, and Jude took that to mean some sort of greeting. They stood in silence for a few moments, the only sound being birds tweeting from beyond the open window.
“Well,” Jude fumbled with the top button of his shirt, unbuttoning it. Travis averted his eyes. “You called me here to help you with math, yes? We might as well get started. Here,” Jude patted the bed after sitting down himself, and Travis hesitantly sat down.
Jude pulled out the textbook and a sheet of homework, neatly filled in with all the answers, double-checked, and the name “Jude Clark” written in pencil at the top. Travis reached for it, but Jude gently pulled it back, looking at him. “Wait, please, Travis. This is my copy, we’ll use it to check your answers when we’re done, alright? Can you go get your copy? If you don’t have one I managed to snag two.”
Travis grumbled a bit before heading to a desk in the corner of the room, picking up a crumpled wad of paper and unfolding it, smoothing it out on the desk before sheepishly walking back and handing the paper to Jude. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Jude smiled at him, and Travis heated up. “Don’t be! Math can be stressful. Let’s go over this slowly.” Jude gently but thoroughly went through the problems, making sure to repeat the instructions for each equation.
Travis got stuck on Question 19. They had skipped it on an initial attempt, but now there was no avoiding it. There were just so many numbers, and they were all swirling around in Travis’s head, and he couldn’t really tell the difference between many of them, and the symbols were all getting jumbled up until they all looked like one, and-
“What are you doing?” Travis’s thinking crashed to a halt as he watched Jude pulled several dry beans out of a pouch in his bag. Jude counted out the beans into several piles, then glanced at Travis out of the corner of his eye.
“We’re going to try counting out the numbers instead, okay?”
“Wh- no, not okay! I’m not a child, you-“ Travis managed to catch the barreling train of anger starting up before he could call Jude a rather rude name for someone who paints his nails. “I’m not a kid. I don’t need beans , for Christ’s sake,” he grumbled under his breath.
“I’m not calling you a child, Travis. Using aids to help yourself isn’t childish. It’s normal.” Jude barely flinched as the other boy raised his voice at him. Travis looked at Jude. He didn’t seem to change facial expressions much. He was calm, or had some mixture of concern where he looked into your eyes and knotted his brow up. He had that expression right now. Travis looked, scoured for some kind of trace of mocking, of cruelty, so he could push away the patience and kindness Jude had shown him. He looked so, so hard to find any reason to push Jude away. He couldn’t find one. He deflated, sinking back onto the bed. “Show me.” Sitting up, Travis watched Jude count the beans out to match the problem. Travis did his best to follow along, and was unpleasantly surprised that the beans helped him greatly to understand the shifting around of numbers. They finished up the problem, and Jude checked the answers against his own paper one last time. He didn’t get a gold star for his good work, but he figured the proud smile Jude gave him was more than okay.
Jude packed up, brushing off non-existent dirt from his pants and standing up. “I’m proud of you, Travis. You did good.”
He was overwhelmed with the praise, unsure of what to do. He realized in an instant that he liked hanging out with Jude, and his heart sank to his feet. He couldn’t like hanging out with Jude. Jude wore nail polish. If he spent time with a boy who wore nail polish, people would start to assume Travis wore nail polish, too. He opened his mouth: “We can‘t be seen together at school.”
Jude remained quiet for a minute. “Of course. You don’t want to ruin your reputation.” Travis wasn’t very good at reading people, but he could tell there was a trace of bitterness in Jude’s voice. Jude shifted his messenger bag over his shoulder, and crossed the threshold of the house to leave. Travis caught his wrist, and Jude turned around. He didn’t expect an apology from Travis Phelps, and he didn’t get one. Nor did he expect Travis to gently squeeze his wrist, and offer the smallest smile Jude had barely caught.
Travis cleared his hoarse throat. “Can- can I walk you home?”
Jude’s eyebrows shot up. A new expression, Travis noted. “Of course.”
Travis slipped his shoes on in a hurry, following after Jude. They walked in silence to the Addison Apartments, and in silence up to Jude’s apartment. Jude unlocked the door with a little silver key, opening the door just wide enough to reveal a dark, cold apartment that looked furnished but somehow empty at the same time. Jude gave him one last small smile, before slipping inside and locking the door.