What If I Was the Secret

Jaime Preciado first meets Tony Perry when they're paired together for a science project in freshman year. They have to make a diagram of a cell, a plant cell with a cell wall and everything. And Tony's smart, probably smarter than Jaime is, so Jaime doesn't mind being paired with him at all. It's just... Tony doesn't talk. Like, ever. Jaime sort of knew that, everyone sort of knows that, Tony is kind of infamous around the school for never speaking. Not even a word. He's a straight A student, so the teachers don't press him on it, but he's also a popular target for bullies because he never defends himself.

They meet at Jaime's house after school because Tony's sister is home and Jaime's brother isn't. Jaime does most of the talking-- all of the talking-- but he doesn't mind. He thinks he's probably annoying Tony a little bit, but he doesn't want to let it get too quiet, because then it would get awkward.

"Since it's a plant cell it needs the extra wall. And aren't they sqaure? I thought I read that they were square." He looks at Tony for conformation, who nods once, staring at the pink (sorry, salmon) colored paper in his hand. He doesn't actually respond, so Jaime keeps going. "We could do it in a shoe box, those are square and the wall could be like the cell wall. Is that okay?" Again, Tony nods.

Most people probably would have complained about being paired with Tony. Hell, Jaime's pretty sure if Tony ever spoke, he'd complain about being paired with Jaime. They're exact opposites-- Tony never speaks and Jaime never shuts up. But Jaime doesn't mind. He likes Tony. As well as he can like Tony considering how little he actually knows about him. He knows that Tony can talk, it's just that he chooses not to. Jaime wants to know why.

In fact, Jaime wants to know everything about the awkward and strange boy he's partnered with. Tony is unique, in a way that most of the other kids in the school aren't. He keeps his hair longer, with a braid in the back that Jaime dimly recognizes as the Padawan braid from Star Wars. Jaime thinks it's pretty awesome. Tony has his ears gauged, he wears snapbacks and tight jeans. He's different than most kids. Jaime likes it. And he wants to know more about him-- Why does he have a Padawan braid? Why does he draw a turtle on the back of his hand during English instead of paying attention? Why doesn't he speak?-- but he's not sure if he's ever going to be able to make Tony talk.

It's okay though. He's not going to stop trying.

---

By the time Tony leaves that night, Jaime's pretty sure he's figured out thirty ways to kill him and not get caught. Jaime can't help it, he likes to talk, and yes, that probably makes him annoying. Especially to Tony.

"So, you can come back tomorrow and we can keep working, or I can come to your house or whatever. Whatever you want to do," Jaime says, standing against the wall as Tony kneels by the door to put his shoes on.

Tony glances up and nods once, but he doesn't reply. Jaime didn't expect him to. Tony points to the floor quickly, which confuses Jaime at first, but then he gets it. "Oh, here? You want to meet here again?" And Tony nods again. Jaime is pretty proud of himself, that's the most interactive communication he's had with the other boy the entire night. "I can just bring you here right after school, my mom is picking me up, and I know she wouldn't mind giving you a ride."

Tony nods yet again and stands, grabbing his backpack from where he'd set it, pulling the strap over his shoulder. Jaime notices that it's beaten and it looks like it's about to burst at the seams. "Wait!" he says suddenly, and Tony's eyes shoot to him, wide, like a trapped animal. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Um, hold on a second, okay?"

Tony tilts his head curiously as Jaime walks down the hall a little ways and opens the door to a small closet. He digs around in it for a moment before making a triumphant noise and returning to Tony. He holds out a never before used black backpack, smiling confidently. Tony takes it, looking at Jaime with a question in his eyes.

Jaime grins. "It's a little dusty, sorry, we don't usually go in that closet. But um, it's never been used, my mom bought it for my brother, but he didn't like it, he wanted the blue and green one instead, so we have this that we're probably never gonna use, and yours looks like it's falling apart at the seams. So, I mean, if you want it, take it, we really don't mind."

Tony hesitates for a second, Jaime thinks he can see confusion in the boy's dark eyes, but then he nods, slowly, holding the backpack close to his chest. His eyes become unreadable, but he think he sees the corner of Tony's mouth twitch, as if he's almost going to smile. He doesn't, and when the horn sounds from outside, Tony leaves the house without looking back at all, but Jaime feels like maybe, possibly, he made some progress.

---

The next day, Jaime walks into Science class and drops into his seat, glancing around for Tony, who he's going to keep talking to, everyday, until he breaks Tony out of his shell a little bit. If that's possible. But he's not giving up. He doesn't see Tony there. Which is odd, considering Tony is usually in the room before he is.

Tony comes in late, almost two minutes after the bell rings. "Why were you late?" Jaime whispers to him. Tony shakes his head in short, jerky movements, playing with the braid in his hair. "Are you okay?" Jaime presses quietly, and Tony nods once, still not looking at him. He bends and digs in his bag for the worksheet he'd finished five minutes after the teacher handed it to him the day before. Jaime notes, with some pride, that he's using the black backpack instead of his old, beaten up one.

Jaime lets it go so they can listen to whatever the teacher is talking about. More so Tony can listen, Jaime himself is a little distracted, glancing around the room and drumming his fingers lightly on his desk. His eyes find Tony again, noting how hunched over he is, scrawling in his notebook. His body is tense and uneasy, the fingers of his other hand playing with the fabric of his thin T-shirt. Jaime's eyes finally catch the purpling bruises on Tony's wrists, and then on his side when his shirt rides up a little. He inhales sharply.

"Tony," he begins softly, waiting for Tony's dark eyes to find him. "Who did that to you?" When Tony just continues staring at him with those curious, deep, dark eyes, Jaime reaches across the narrow walkway between their desks, laying his fingers one by one over the bruises on Tony's wrist. "Who did this to you?" he repeats firmly.

Tony jerks his arm away, shaking his head rapidly. Fear blossoms in his eyes, and his body tenses as he shifts back. As far away from Jaime as he can get considering the limited room. He shakes his head again, something in his eyes turning pleading, and Jaime doesn't have any choice but to let it go. He doesn't want to scare Tony away.

"Fine," Jaime mutters. "Fine. But eventually, you're going to tell me."

Tony sighs and looks away. The second the bell rings, he's out of the room before Jaime can press the subject any farther.

---

Jaime doesn't see Tony again until after school, when the quiet boy is at his locker, putting his books away. Jaime starts to walk over, but two guys beat him to where Tony is standing. They're big and burly, Jaime recognizes them as football players for their last ranked in the division team. One pushes Tony back into the lockers with a thud, and Jaime sees Tony wince, but he doesn't make any noise. Jaime hesitates and frowns. There's no way Tony will defend himself.

"Haven't you figured it out, you little freak?" the other guy sneers. "You're not welcome here." He pushes Tony harder, and Tony slumps against the lockers, body shaking and eyes wide with fear. "Come on, freak. Defend yourself. Say something. Or do you just say nothing because you know that nobody wants you here? You fucking piece of trash."

Anger boils in Jaime's blood. "I think you and I have a different definition of what trash is, Ramirez," he snarls, pushing his way past them to stand between the two of them and Tony. He feels Tony grab at his arm, attempting to pull him away, but he doesn't move. "I also think we have a different definition of nobody. I want Tony here, and I'm not nobody."

"You want to get your ass kicked right alongside him, Preciado?" the first guy, whose name Jaime doesn't know, snaps, his hands curling into fists. Tony tugs anxiously at the back of Jaime's shirt.

"You're not used to even odds," Jaime snaps. "You won't do shit because you put on these big personas as tough guys, but you're really just scared, insecure little boys who take your own self-doubt on people like Tony because he won't defend himself. And you know what, he doesn't need to. He knows, and I know, that he's smarter and a better person than you. Why don't you all just back off? Beating on Tony won't make you any less of a douchebag."

Both of the football players raise their fists, and Jaime's pretty sure he's probably going to get his ass kicked. It'll be worth it, he thinks. But then, before either of them can hit him, another voice cuts in, so unfamiliar, coming from directly behind Jaime.

"No!" It's short and hoarse, barely there, but there nonetheless. "Don't... Don't touch him."

All eyes turn to Tony, who's standing there and shaking like the words themselves scared him to say. Terror fills his eyes, and Jaime thinks he's going to flee, he's going to run. Jaime wouldn't be surprised if he did. But he's mostly surprised that Tony spoke. Only a few words, one short sentence, his voice hoarse and ragged, quiet, and timid.

As far as defending Jaime, it doesn't get far, because he doesn't sound very powerful or intimidating. But it stuns the bullies (and Jaime) so much that Tony can grab Jaime's wrist and run, dragging him down the hall and out the door to the crowd of people in front of the school.

"You talked," Jaime pants out, hands on his knees as he doubles over, trying to catch his breath. He looks at Tony, who is chewing on his lip, glancing fearfully back at the doors of the school.

"Yeah," Tony whispers. "I... I did."

"Why?"

Tony gives Jaime a confused look, picking at the edge of his shirt nervously. "I didn't want them to hurt you."

Something in Jaime's heart bursts. This kid, this kid who wouldn't utter a word to defend himself, had broken the silence he'd been living in for god only knows how long, to defend Jaime. Jaime doesn't know what it means, but he knows his heart is swelling, and nobody will ever hurt this kid again, not if Jaime has anything to say about it.

"I didn't... I thought you didn't like me. I thought I annoyed you."

Tony lets out this soft, breathy little laugh that makes Jaime's heart clench. "You do," he admits with a very faint little smile. "But you're... you're the only person who... tried... You didn't give up after one attempt to talk to me, and you... You gave me that backpack, and you cared about..." He turns his hands over, glancing at the bruises on his wrist. "You said you wanted me here. And even if you didn't mean it, nobody has ever..." He sounds so genuinely confused and sad that Jaime's heart squeezes and shatters.

Jaime blinks, a little dazed. Those gestures, they'd seemed so small to him. Nothing of importance, really. But maybe to Tony, they'd meant more than he thought. Maybe Tony isn't used to people giving him such simple gestures of kindness. Maybe it meant more than he'd thought.

Jaime lays a hand on Tony's back. The boy's eyes widen a fraction, but he doesn't flinch away from Tony's touch. "I do want you here. Come on," Jaime mumbles. "Let's go to my house."

---

A couple months go by. Tony and Jaime become like, a single unit. Tony talks more. Mostly to Jaime, but he'll give quiet little answers in his classes, too. At least, the classes that Jaime is in. He still closes himself off when Jaime isn't around, but it's progress. His teachers are bewildered. His mom and sister are bewildered. Because he'd talk to his mom and to Becca, but it's different now. He sounds... happy. His eyes have a light in them that his family hasn't seen in years, and there's happiness in his voice.

They owe that to Jaime, and Jaime doesn't even know what he did that changed Tony. Maybe just being there had been enough for Tony to break out of his shell a little. Maybe Tony just wasn't used to having friends. Was it that simple, acting as a friend?

"Why did you stop talking in the first place?" Jaime asks as they're working on math homework.

Tony freezes, closing his math book with a gentle thud. "Jaime, I don't..."

"You don't have to tell me," Jaime adds quickly. "I was just curious, I know it's probably personal. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

Tony inhales softly and sighs a bit. "I'm not... Uncomfortable. I mean. I am, but... I think you should know. You're my friend." He starts picking at his shirt like he always does when he's nervous. Jaime takes his hand and pulls it away.

"Don't do that."

"I just don't want you to judge me," Tony admits weakly.

"I won't," Jaime replies vehemently. He doesn't care what Tony tells him. Tony is his best friend, one of the most kind-hearted and gentle people Jaime has ever met. He's the way he is because he's broken and he's been hurt. Jaime would never judge him for anything in his past. He squeezes Tony's hand, surprised Tony hasn't moved away.

"When I was in seventh grade, I told my mom I thought I was gay. My mom, she didn't care, and neither did Becca. It was a fairly easy coming out. And I had my first boyfriend in seventh grade, too. He was great. He was really sweet and kind and I... I don't know, I was stupid, I didn't realize he wasn't... As perfect as I thought. It got bad... Quickly. He started to, if he didn't like what I said or did, he'd... He'd hit me. The worse it got, the less I said. And even after he moved away, I never spoke. I was scared to. It scares me... To talk... Except to you."

Jaime doesn't know what to say. He thinks he's listening to his own heart shatter. How had Tony not opened up about that? He doesn't even care that Tony's gay, that doesn't matter. His heart is breaking for Tony, and he's so angry, he wants to hunt his ex down and kill him. Painfully.

He settles for wrapping his arms around Tony and tugging him close. Tony makes a surprised noise as he collapses against Jaime's chest. It takes a second, but he relaxes, wrapping his arms around Jaime's broad shoulders.

"You're okay now, Tony. No one is going to hurt you like that again."

"I'm not scared anymore, Jaime. I have you."

---

Jaime's thoughts keep him awake that night. He doesn't know how to stop them. He can't stop picturing images of some faceless kid hitting Tony, causing Tony to retreat. He knows Tony says he isn't scared anymore. But he feels like he really hasn't done enough. Tony needs to know how much Jaime cares.

Which propels Jaime out of bed. He uses a flashlight so he doesn't wake his mother or Chris up, grabbing an unused notebook. Taking a few seconds to gather his thoughts, he grabs a pen and starts to write.

---

It's Saturday, and it's before noon, so Tony might still be asleep. Jaime doesn't care. He knocks twice on the door, awkwardly trying to balance his guitar and his notebook in one hand. He waits for maybe five seconds before he hears footsteps. And then the door opens, revealing Tony's sister, Becca.

"Tony," she calls. "It's your boyfriend."

Jaime blushes. But before he can correct Becca, Tony's there, nudging her away. "Shut up," he mutters to her. "Sorry. Jaime, what are you doing here?"

"Um, I." Jaime swallows, trying not to pay too much attention to the fact that Tony's wearing nothing but baggy gray sweatpants. His hair is tousled, and his eyes are tired. "Can I come in?" Tony stands back to let him in. "I wrote something a few nights ago. And I think... I think it's right now. I want to play it for you."

"Okay..." Tony walks back to his bedroom, motioning for Jaime to follow. They sit on the bed. Jaime takes his time getting his guitar out. His hands are sweaty and shaky; he's nervous. Of course he is, this song is saying a lot more than he expected it would, he just hopes Tony gets it.

"So um... I wrote this...about you." Jaime takes a deep breath, and he starts to sing. "I just fell in the deep end
Like a lush without her weekend
I wrote this for you kid
It's not what I wanted but I need it
But man it's a long trip
From all the crazy things I've seen in this world
I'm blessed, I guess

What if I was the secret and you couldn't keep it
And I swear I saw something good in your eyes before
And if I sang it in the right key
And I asked you politely for you to find a way home

(Find a way home, whoa, whoa)

I find it difficult to sleep when all the walls
Seem to talk to me
I find it that I can laugh
Because my heart's so fucked up I can barely stand the
Sudden sounds of the cars outside
The red and greens on the traffic lights
That the only thing I got is this
The only thing I want is this

Memories to make me smile
A girl to stand there and so she can admire
The way I can never ever really keep my hands to myself
But the alcohol tastes so sweet
When it's mixed with lies and defeat
Oh all the battles I lost and lost again

What if I was the secret and you couldn't keep it
And I swear I saw something pretty in your eyes before
And if I sang it in the right key
And I asked you politely for you to find a way home

(Find a way, a way, a way, a way)

What if you were the secret
And I didn't see it
And I swear to God I wish these thoughts of mine
Could create the sunshine
It's beautiful as your eyes
I paint this night sky
And it's not like you need this
I just wanted you to see it

Tonight."

When his voice trails off, he nervously meets Tony's eyes. Tony is staring at him, wide eyed. His lips are slightly parted. "Jaime..." he whispers. He reaches out to take the guitar carefully, setting it aside. "You wrote that for... For me?"

Jaime gives a short, quick nod. Tony makes a soft noise and pushes himself across the bed, taking Jaime's face in his hands. Before Jaime is sure what's happening, Tony is kissing him. Jaime exhales a gust of air against Tony's mouth and kisses back, hands clenching against Tony's back.

"How are you real, Jaime Preciado?" Tony breathes against Jaime's lips. "How are you even real? I swear you're some sort of god damn angel. You're so fucking perfect, it's unreal."

"No, I'm not," Jaime mumbles.

"If you see me however you see me that prompted that song, I can see you as perfect."

"I just wanted you to know you're not... Alone anymore," Jaime mumbles, feeling heat rising in his face as Tony's thumbs trace his jawline. "You'll always have me, Tony. Always."

Tony clenches his hands in Jaime's shirt, pulling Jaime close to him, and as Jaime continues to sing quietly in his ear, he let's out all the pain and sadness that he's held inside, knowing that, while Jaime is there, he'll never be alone again.