It was a normal Friday afternoon, Rich was over at Jake's house like always, and they were shooting pool. Things had changed a lot after the Squip, because of course they had. The two boys had to relearn what their friendship was, but somehow it had only made them closer. Rich tanked in popularity ever since the fire, but didn't seem to mind, and neither did Jake. They had an understanding.
This understanding came from long nights spent talking about anything and everything, Rich hoping to stay away from his home a little longer, and Jake wanting to keep him here. With these talks came emotions. Ones that didn't show up in the day to day. Ones that were kept hidden under happier and better personas. Their secrets came with them, and somehow, neither of them liked the other any less for being a real person.
Then all of the sudden it was not normal, not normal at all, and everything was wrong.
First there was a knock at the door. After the fire, no one came over anymore, so this was wrong.
Second, an adult voice spoke through the door. There hadn't been any adults in the house since the summer, so this was wrong.
Jake didn't even hear the words, he just knew it was wrong. Something was wrong. Rich tapped him on the shoulder and he was back in focus. "They said to open the door- they have a search warrant Jake, we're supposed to let them in," Rich said gently, his lisp causing him to speaking more slowly so Jake would understand.
That was the third thing wrong, Rich never spoke gently or slowly, not during the day. Not before the Squip or after. Only at night when they'd actually talk. It wasn't night time.
Jake walked over to the door and opened it just a bit, not enough for the people outside to come in but enough for him to see them. They looked like police.
Wrong, police didn't come to his house, he was the golden kid. The kid everyone wanted to be. Sure there had been firetrucks and ambulances, but police never went inside his house. Especially not on a normal day. But this wasn't a normal day.
"Hey there kiddo! Could you take us to your parents?" Wrong. His parents didn't have guests anymore. His parents weren't here to have guests anymore.
"No," Jake said simply. He began to shut the door but one of the officers caught it and pushed back, which caused Jake to try even harder to close the door. Eventually another officer began to push too, and the door was decidedly open. Why didn't Rich come help him? He turned and Rich was right there, and he was talking to him. Gently like before, like he needed to calm down. But Jake didn't need to calm down, he was fine, it was everything else that was wrong, all wrong.
The officers filed in one by one, and started going through everything in the house. Wrong. That wasn't their stuff, that was Jake's parents'. That was private. They needed to stop. They needed to leave- he needed to make them leave.
"Get- get out of my house," Jake stuttered, then, over come with anger, "Stop! GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!"
The police froze for a moment, but continued their search, one officer hung back to make sure Jake wasn't going to do anything stupid.
"STOP- HEY!" Jake ran over to where an officer was inspecting his mother's favorite vase, "That's my mom's, don't touch it!" The officer tried to take it back, but just ended up breaking the vase. Wrong. This vase never got touched. It was too important. Even when kids started smashing vases for fun on Halloween they hadn't touched this one.
Rich ran up and started to pull him away from the police officers, "Jake, stop, just let them-" WRONG. It didn't matter what else Rich said this was wrong.
"NO! NO, STOP!" Jake yelled. The police ignored him, why were they ignoring him, it was his house?! Then he saw the police moving his dad's armchair. "HEY! Get your hands off!"
A police officer touched their family photo, "That's not yours!"
His father's favorite board game. "STOP!! STOP! NO, YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT MEANS TO DAD-"
His mother's bookcase, "HEY!"
A lamp. "No-"
A photo album. "Don't-"
Their diplomas and degrees. "please."
Then Jake froze for a moment. WRONG! An officer stood, inspecting a small ceramic cast of Jake's mom's hand holding his. A small, seemingly insignificant trinket, but it mattered to him. That was his mom's. They'd made it while she was sick. When they thought she was going to-
That was his mom's.
He snapped back into reality, and started fighting against Rich, who was still holding him back and trying to calm him down. "You can't touch that, that's my mom's- you're going to break it! STOP! STOP! That's not yours stop, put it down!" He broke away from Rich, and ran towards the officer. He yanked the ceramic cast away from the officer and held it close to his chest. He only then noticed the tears rolling down his face like acid.
"How dare you-" Jake said, his voice defeated but dripping with venomous hatred. "You don't know- you don't- you-"
And then it was a blur. He ended up in the back of a police car. Rich was there too. Why was Rich there? Wrong. They were good kids.
"Hey, Jake. It's okay- we're okay. I didn't let them take it," Rich said. Wrong?
They were at the station. An officer came over with some sort of therapist person. They talked to him about rights. Ha, rights. Nothing was right. He nodded anyway. They asked him things. Things about the house. Things about his parents. He answered only yes or no questions.
Then the therapist lady asked another question, "What's wrong, Jake? You can talk to me."
Jake looked at her, dejected, before responding, "Everything."
And then he stood up, and walked out of the station. They didn't try to stop him. Wrong? He didn't care. Rich was waiting outside.
"Hey."
"Hey."
"So- your place? I think the police cleared out. They didn't take anything. They just looked around and then started acting as if they'd gained all this insight." Rich's tone was light, but Jake didn't smile. "They're looking for your parents."
"Yeah."
"They said if they don't find them by the end of the month you're either going to get emancipated or go into foster."
"I'm 17, I'm basically an adult."
"They know that."
Jake sighed and looked over at Rich. "Do you know how to do the emancipation paperwork?"
"No, but we can figure it out."
Jake smiled slightly. Right.
The two boys started walking back to the house. It was dark.
"Maybe while we're at it we'll get me emancipated too," Rich started, "We could get jobs, and an apartment-"
"Thank you."
Rich looked over at Jake, "Of course."
They didn't need to say much else. Not yet anyway.
When they got back to the house around 30 minutes later, they climbed up onto the roof. Then they talked, like always. Right.
"I'm sorry," Rich blurted out.
"Don't be," Jake said. He looked over at him, and continued, "You're alright. You're all right. You're the only right thing today." Except for when his voice was too soft for the middle of the day. Except when he cared about Jake.
Rich nodded to himself, "I wish I wasn't though. I wish other things were right. I wish I could have made them right. You deserve that."
"It's not your fault."
Silence.
"I'm not even right."
"What do you mean?" Rich said, looking at Jake with curiosity.
"I don't know," Jake responded quietly. A lie, and they both knew it. Jake would never say what was wrong with him. Not even to Rich. What was wrong was just how right Rich was. How right Rich was to him. But Rich would have to figure that out himself, because Jake had had enough wrong for a lifetime without being so wrong himself.
Rich scooted closer to Jake. "You're right to me."
Jake smiled.
His parents were still gone. His life was still falling apart. So was Rich's. If he really thought about it, they were both wrong. And so was everyone. But they were right when they were together, like they were now.
They were okay.
They were right.
///A/N - This is literally something I wrote on Tumblr and copy-pasted. One of my first works. Please don't hate, but constructive criticism would be awesome!
