Trophy Eyes.

Andrew’s throwing rocks at Jack’s bedroom window in a fruitless attempt to catch his attention. Aled stands beside him, arms folded across his chest and rolls his eyes.

“Y’know, he has a doorbell.” The Welsh boy sighs, advancing on the door.

“But this is a depressed Jack we’re talking about. He’s not going to get out of bed, is he now?”

Aled glares at him, pulls out his cell phone and calls Jack.

Within two rings, a disgruntled Jack picks up.

“Answer your door, would you? Before Andrew breaks your window.”

Less than a minute later, Jack appears at the front door, hair sticking out at all angles and wearing a baggy Blink-182 tee that almost reaches his knees.

“The fuck are you doing here?” He asks groggily.

“Sent home for beating up Gaskarth.” Andrew replies dryly “Now let us in, would you?”

Jack smiles weakly and moves aside to let them in.

“He seriously sent you home for what you did to Alex?” Jack asks in disbelief as they climb the stairs to his room.

“Yep.” Aled replies “We have to have a written apology to him at the principal’s office by Monday. Mine’s gonna be ‘Hey Alex, I’m really sorry I broke your nose. Love, Aled.’”

Jack cracks up laughing and Andrew smiles too.

*

Alex doesn’t go home, even though he’s instructed to do so by everyone.

He wanders down to the park in the middle of town, with every intention to sulk on his own for a couple of hours. He doesn’t want to go home and make his mom fuss over him; she has enough trouble with his little brothers already.

It’s freezing cold, and he doesn’t have a jacket, but Alex doesn’t care. He feels like shit anyway.

He slides his backpack from his shoulders and dumps it on the bench beside him. He runs his fingers through his greasy, mousy brown hair and sighs audibly.

“Well, if it isn’t Alexander.” A voice says from above him, forcing the brown-haired boy to look up. He frowns as soon as he sees the source of the voice.

John O’Callaghan.

“What the fuck do you want?” Alex asks desperately, standing up and pulling his bag back onto his shoulders.

“You haven’t come to me lately.” John says matter-of-factly “Which surprises me because, honestly, your life can’t have improved that much in two weeks.”

Alex has never wanted to punch John more than he does right now.

“How would you know? It’s not like you’ve made an effort to talk to me lately.” Alex glowers at him.

John produces a packet from his pocket and waves it tauntingly in front of Alex’s face. His brown eyes tail it as he moves it. It takes him everything not to swipe it from his grasp and run for it, but he knows that’s stupid.

“Want it?” John asks, a conniving smirk playing on his thin lips. Alex glares at him, bites his lip and shakes his head.

“Really?”

Instead of answering, Alex turns away and stalks off home.

“You’ll regret this, Alexander Gaskarth!”

*

When Alex arrives home, his mom immediately calls him from the kitchen.

“Alex, one of your friends called. Said he was coming over Saturday and to text him your address. I think he said he was called Joe or something.”

“Oh, okay.” Alex replies, throwing his shoes and backpack behind the door.

“You couldn’t go get Theo and Harry down for dinner could you? I can’t leave the pasta because I don’t trust it not to burn.”

Alex walks into the kitchen and sees his mom stirring pasta furiously.

“Make sure Harry’s not wearing that blasted Superman costume too. If I have to see capes at the table one more time…”

She trails off into a laugh and Alex joins her, hugging her lightly.

Alex turns away and heads up the stairs to get his brothers from their room. As soon as he opens the door, Theo runs at him and clings to his legs.

“Lex!” He cries, and Alex laughs as he scoops him up. He glances around the room for Harry, and when he looks down to ask the four year old in his arms where he is, he jumps out from under the bed.

Alex winces as Harry screams in disgust as he grabs his wrist and pulls him downstairs.

“Seriously Harry, just walk! I’m gonna drop Theo if you don’t!” Alex sighs angrily.

“Fine!” The eight year old pouts, stomping his way down the steps in front of Alex. The teenager rolls his eyes, and Theo giggles, clinging to Alex’s jacket.

He makes sure Harry’s taken his seat at the table opposite Theo before he turns back to the kitchen.

“Done.” He says happily as he enters to see his mom holding out plates to him. She eyes his broken nose with disdain.

“You have to stop getting into fights.” She says quietly “One day you’ll get really hurt. Who was it this time? John? Martin?”

“Two juniors.” Alex shakes his head, taking the plates from his mom and walking back to place them down in front of his brothers.

“Wow, those are some strong kids.”

Alex hasn’t really had a father figure in his life since he was eight years old. That’s when his dad died. His mom was a single parent for a year or so, until she met Joshua Anderson, otherwise known as the father of Harry and Theo. When they got married, Alex was just nine. Even then he refused to change his name from ‘Gaskarth’ to ‘Anderson’. Harry was born not long after the wedding, spreading the message that it’d been a shotgun wedding. Theo came along four years later, when Alex was thirteen. Theo was around seven months old when Joshua left. Alex didn’t care all that much; he never thought of him as much more than a family friend anyway. So now he’s really the only male influence in Harry and Theo’s lives, and the thought of that responsibility scares him witless.

The only reason he sticks around is because it means his mom doesn’t struggle as much.