You Could Be My Compass

“Alex, I don’t want to be here,” Jack hissed angrily, grasping Alex’s hand even tighter, nearly a death-grip, keeping him from walking away from his car.

“He’s your dad, Jack. After everything that’s happened, don’t you think it’d look pretty bad if you didn’t show up?” whispered back, trying not to draw attention to what they were talking about. There were still a few people lingering in the parking lot, and he saw no reason that they needed to hear their conversation.

“Au contraire, after everything that’s happened, I’d say it’d be pretty damn fitting for me to skip out. Come on, Lex. Pleeease?”

The wide, innocent eyes and the pout were just about enough to persuade Alex, but he wasn’t budging. This time, he wouldn’t be swayed by the fact that Jack was fucking adorable. He released Jack’s hand despite his small whine of protest. Instead, he placed both hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye. “You know I’d love to just give in, say let’s skip it, and go home. But we can’t do that today. Jack, I know you kinda hate your dad right now, and I don’t blame you, ‘cause I kinda hate him too. And I know he didn’t do a good job of showing it, like, ever, but somewhere deep in his workaholic, self-obsessed heart, he loved you. And one day, maybe you’ll forgive him, and if you don’t go to his funeral, you’ll end up regretting it.”

Jack sighed. There was no way he could argue with that logic. “Fine,” he mumbled. “But I’m not crying.”

Alex rolled his eyes and grinned, knowing he’d won. He leaned forward and kissed Jack’s nose. “Besides, you look pretty snazzy. I’d hate for that to go to waste. I like showing you off.”

“Damn it, you’re persuasive,” Jack complained, also rolling his eyes.

Alex grabbed his hand and tugged gently. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

By the time they got from his car at the very edge of the parking lot to the church—with Alex half-dragging Jack the entire way—the visitation was already over and the casket was closed again. The front pew was reserved for family, which meant, well, Jack. And Alex. And that was it.

Jack glanced around. The room was nearly full and somebody was bringing in folding chairs. He barely recognized anybody there. Honestly, was his dad really that big of a deal? And especially taking into account the fact that in the week that had passed since Mrs. Gaskarth saved them from Adam, news involving the truth about Jack’s disappearance had started to trickle out to the public. There was quite the outrage nationwide about it, so why the hell were this many people bothering to show up if they all thought he was so disgusting? Although to be fair, Jack thought his dad was pretty fucking disgusting, yet here he was, acting like he thought differently. Somehow, that didn’t seem the same, though.

He saw a camera in the back of the room. Well, that explained things. The funeral was being broadcasted. That was why so many people were in attendance. Fucking typical. And no matter how hard he looked, craning his neck around so he could see every person in the building, there was one person that just wasn’t there.

Alex noticed that Jack looked disappointed, so just as some unfamiliar preacher started saying mostly untrue nice words about Jack’s dad, he whispered, “What’s wrong?”

In a hushed tone, Jack said, “I just, I dunno, I’d kinda hoped my mom would be here. Stupid, I know, but…I thought maybe she’d come for Dad’s funeral and I could just see her again. That’s all.”

Frowning, Alex put an arm around his shoulder. “Maybe she doesn’t know?” he responded, knowing it wasn’t true, unless she was completely disconnected from society. There wasn’t a person in the world with a TV that hadn’t heard about the Barakat Family Tragedy, as it was now being called.

It was a pretty big sensation. A couple nights ago, Alex wasn’t able to sleep, so he found a bunch of blog posts about it. One person had been keeping up with Jack’s case since the beginning and now that it was all done, they said it should be made into a movie. He sincerely hoped nothing would come of that.

“Like hell she doesn’t!” Jack said, louder than intended. Without looking at them, he knew people were staring and glaring. Well, they were already staring at him. Damn his dad for getting him into all of this.

The minister droned on, “The world lost a great man when Bassam died. He made mistakes in his life, but ultimately, he was an inspirational—”

“Bullshit!” Jack exclaimed, not even trying to be quiet.

Clearing his throat, he continued like there’d been no interruption.

Needless to say, it was a long funeral.

Approximately four seconds after the preacher was finally done talking, Jack exploded, “Thank fuck! I never thought that was going to end!”

“Babe, I know you feel really strongly about the whole thing, but can you maybe wait until we’re not in such a crowded room to vent all your emotions about this or just be a little quieter? People are staring.”

“They’ll stare anyway, Lex. ‘Cause oh, poor Jack, his dad’s dead. But that’s not what they should be saying!” he ranted, ignoring Alex’s advice and getting a little louder instead. “Why isn’t it, oh, poor Jack, his dad was an asshole that fucked up his life but now that he’s dead people are pretending that he was a fuckin’ saint! I mean, holy f—”

Alex took things into his own hands—literally—by clapping one over Jack’s mouth. “Jack,” he said in a low voice, lips right by his ear. “We. Are. In. A. Church. Once we’re in the car, you can say whatever the hell you want, but for the next few minutes, don’t swear like a sailor, don’t say holy-any-expletive, just be on your best behavior. For god’s sake, don’t make me regret taking you out of the house.” He kissed his neck then pulled back. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” Jack sighed. “Got it. Pretty much no talking till we leave here.”

“You’re impossible. And cute. Which is the only reason I keep you around.”

“What, that I’m cute? Darn, and I thought it was for my sparkling personality and biting wit.”

Alex snorted, and then somebody exiting the room caught his eye. “Holy shit!”

“Hey, no fair!” Jack whined. “If I can’t, you—”

He grabbed Jack’s hand and pulled him outside quickly, keeping the woman in sight. “Look who it is!” he yelped.

“Alex, there’s like a thousand people here. Gotta be more specific than that.”

He took a hold of Jack’s chin and pointed his face in the right direction. “Holy shit!” Jack repeated.

“Exactly.”

The woman was about to climb in her car, so Jack did the only sensible thing. He shouted, “Mom!” And started running towards her, Alex in tow. “Mom!” he yelled again, trying to get her attention.

She didn’t seem to hear him, though, and shut the door. He stood by the window, and there was no way she didn’t notice him and she couldn’t get away with ignoring him, so she looked at him, at least acknowledging his presence, her eyes filled with sorrow.

And then she drove away.