Trust Your Instincts

-58- Always On Top

 To say that it was easy for them to get over the loss of Isaac would be the biggest understatement ever. It would be idiotic.

 The last two weeks had been hellish for both Jack and Mark. It wasn't exactly constant frowns and tears, but they were forced to face the fact that Isaac wasn't there, and never again would be, more often than they would have liked. For that reason, they seemed to make it home from school every day exhausted from the effort it took to pretend that their emotional stability wasn't being held together by a thin and delicate string. 

 They hadn't shown up to school for the first week after Isaac's death, and according to Ken, neither had Felix, the three of them spent their days laying in bed and willing themselves to get a hold of themselves.

 By the time Isaac's funeral came around the weekend after his death, Mark and Jack were sure that they had cried all they could over the week, but of course, they were wrong. Before the service even started they were blubbering wrecks upon seeing Felix and Ken for the first time, and though Mark managed to somehow get the full way through the speech that he and Jack had prepared, he was sure nobody would have been able to make out most of the words, altered to nonsensical whale noises by his stuffy nose and choked broken speech.

 It may sound horrible, but Mark probably cried more at Isaac's funeral than he did at his mother's, because Jack was there, and so he had no fear when it came to not holding back his true self.

 Going into school on the Monday morning was torturous, to put it nicely. All eyes were on Jack, Mark and Felix as they shuffled through the front doors of the wretched place, their gazes trained harshly on their sneakers. At least the focus had been taken away from Ken a little, now that he wasn't the only one of Isaac's friend group actually showing up to school.

 Some people were obviously trying their damnedest to pretend that everything was normal, to talk to Mark and Jack about topics that were as far as possible from the loss of their best friend. Mark was thankful for that, appreciative that people were at least attempting to discredit the elephant in the room, but the few people who tried to put Mark and Jack at ease weren't enough to deflect the sympathetic stares that seemed to be piercing through them wherever they went.

 Some even took it upon themselves to come up to Jack and reminisce on fun moments they had shared with Isaac, as if the reminder that he had lost such an amazing friend would in any way help him out, especially since it was coming from people who had watched in silence as he was put through hell by Will and his gang, or even actively taken part in the humiliation and ridicule.

 It didn't help, and Jack was ready to kick the next person that came up to inform him about the time Isaac lent them a pen or helped them study for a math test. What was he to do with that information?

 Luckily, the pitiful glances died down in number as the week wore on, and Isaac's existence became a mere memory, just as Josh's had. People still eyed them concernedly, but nobody really put in the effort to pay their much unneeded condolences anymore. 

 Just like that, Isaac was being forgotten, his kindness and chivalry being brushed under the rug now that he wasn't alive to display it anymore, and all the gossip had now moved on to Heather and Carlito's antics at the last house party.

 Jack wasn't sure if he should be glad about the decrease in number of people approaching him, or angry about how fast they put their grieving processes to rest, but Isaac wouldn't have cared much for the sympathy of mere strangers, so maybe it was better that the focus was off of his death.

 Math class was probably the hardest for Mark to endure, sitting alone next to that empty seat that used to always be occupied by the smiling blond man. Did it not occur to the teacher that maybe changing the seating plan a little bit would be beneficial to his student up the back who was constantly on the brink of breaking down every time he so much as looked to the empty space on his left hand side?