Dirt Lifter | Craig of the Creek High School AU

Operation "Find Keys"

Jason marched into the living room on a mission.

His keys hadn't been on his desk, which is where he usually put them after work, and now he was in a rush to find them before school. He already checked his backpack, his sweater pockets, and his pants-from-yesterday's pockets, and he still could not find them. He'd looked under his desk and bed and in the crevice behind the heater where things that were small enough liked to fall and get stuck behind. They weren't there, either. He had been in the living room all afternoon yesterday, not retreating to his room until his stepmom came back. The keys had probably fallen out of his pocket then.

He began his search, starting with the couch in front of the TV. He checked between the blue cushions, running his hand through them, and when he couldn't feel anything, he picked the cushions up and threw them on the floor.

Nothing was under them except crumbs.

Jason swung his head to check underneath the sofa, sticking his arm underneath to search with his hands. He couldn't see or feel anything.

He heard a glass-on-plastic clank coming from the kitchen.

His head shot up.

A blond man stared at him from across the kitchen counter. He had a suit on, combed-and-gelled hair, mustache, beard, and a critical expression. He poured the coffee from the pot he was holding into his mug.

"I lost my keys," Jason stated, pulling his arm out from under the couch.

His father sighed. "Is that why you're tearing up the living room?"

Jason got off the floor and started putting the cushions back. His father would be set off anytime this room was messy, because 'you don't know whether I'm having guests or not' and 'are you trying to make us look bad?'. Everything had to be perfect all the time with him, and Jason's best defense against that was staying out of the way. He wouldn't have torn up the living room if he'd known his dad was still in the house.

But if his dad was here, he might as well ask "Where do we keep the extra pair?"

"I expect you to be able to keep track of your own things." His father put the coffee pot back under the machine. "Alyssa will be here after school. She can let you in."

"No, she can't," he replied. "I'm going to Vanessa's after school. Alyssa'll be gone before I get home." His stepmom preferred to work late shifts, while his dad worked a regular 9-to-5-and-a-shitton-of-overtime. It made him easier to avoid, so Jason had no complaints. "Unless you'll be home early, I need a key."

"I have a dinner with RSO this evening." The man went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of half-and-half. "I don't have to go in until the afternoon. I'm trying to enjoy my morning." He said it like Jason was stopping him from achieving that. He opened the carton, and poured its contents into his mug. "Who's this Vanessa?"

"My friend from school." The cushions were back in place, so he moved onto the couch on the left side of the room, feeling around between the gaps in those cushions. He didn't remember sitting here yesterday, but he might as well check.

"I see." There was a lilt of a laugh in his voice.

"Don't say it like that," Jason snapped. "We're studying for geography. Other people are gonna be there."

'Other people' meant Craig, but Jason was not about to mention him to his father. The last thing that would help with that particular issue was talking about it with his dad.

"Geography?" The lilt was gone from his voice, replaced by familiar disapproval.

Jason hunched over to look under the other couch. If he didn't find his keys here, he'll look in the Lost & Found at school. "What's wrong with geography?"

"Economics would be less work."

He glared up at his father. "Are you gonna go on about-"

"I'm just saying it was my best class in high school." The man stirred the coffee with a little tea spoon, clinking the mug with it.

"Whatever." He pushed himself up off the floor. "Econ is just glorified math anyway. You read graphs and stuff. I don't need more math in my schedule."

"And geography is just reading maps. Are you going to get a job by reading maps?"

The keys were nowhere in the living room, he was sure of it. He'll check the Lost & Found, but if they weren't there, he would still need a key. "Where are the extra keys?" he asked again.

"On the hook, by the fridge. You should know that."

Of course, they kept all their miscellaneous household items in the kitchen, out of sight from possible guests. Jason should have known that.

He passed by his dad, and grabbed the keys from the hook. He could feel his father's eyes tracking him, but he didn't look to check. He picked up his backpack as he walked through the living room. He opened the door and resisted slamming it behind him.

"We're still on for this afternoon?" Craig asked as he sat down next to Jason. "At Vanessa's?"

"Yep." Jason was doing the homework that would be collected in five minutes' time, hunched over. First period biology had that way of sucking the life out of him. "You don't have to ask every day leading up to it, you know."

"Sorry," Craig apologized. "Just making sure."

Well, that was rude. Too bad Jason's brain was busy with science to focus on not being an asshole. For having a massive crush on this guy, he sure didn't act like it. That could mean he was getting over it, but he doubted it. He still got those feelings of warmth, and he still needed to get rid of them, and he still needed to stop thinking about Craig and his stupid face and expressive voice and deep eyes and fuck, he was doing it again, wasn't he?

Craig waved his hand over the homework. "You good, Jason?"

"What?" He had been spiraling for a minute there, instead of writing stuff down. Craig must have noticed. He was attentive like that. "Oh, I'm fine. Just zoned out for a sec." He shoved the worksheet in his backpack. "I don't know how to do this shit, let's hope they don't ask for it."

"That's all?"

"Uh," Jason heard the worry in Craig's voice, but he was not about to speak his mind. He picked a different truth, instead. "Actually, my dad was home this morning. Being a prick, as usual."

"Oh, jeez. Sorry." Craig paused, looking down at his hands, folded on top of the table. He did that a lot, Jason noticed. "If it makes you feel better, I got in a fight with my Mom last night."

"What?" He laughed in disbelief. "But you're like, the perfect child."

Craig shrugged. "Guess not. She told me to clean my room and I was ticked off and I snapped at her, like 'why do you care, it's my room!' and then she went on about taking care of myself and 'is this how you're going to be when you move out' all that and I was just done with it." The residual anger showed in his voice. "So I slammed the door on her. I feel bad about it, 'cause we didn't talk it out this morning"

"Damn." Fuck, what was he supposed to say to that? It's not the first time Craig had vented to him, but Jason was still just as bad at comforting him. "Hey, it's not the end of the world. You're allowed to hate your parents sometimes. And vice versa," he added, and laughed. "It's one of those laws of nature, I think."

"I don't hate her," he clarified. "She just..."

"Sucks sometimes?"

Craig sighed and face planted on the desk. "Yeah." he said, leaning to the side, cheek squished against the wood. "Sometimes she sucks."

"Welcome to the club." Jason's stare lingered on the teen, admiring that cute cheek squish long enough for that warmth to return.

He looked away before it turned into a burn.

You're doing it again, his brain repeated. You should know better.