JFGogh (SFW) Series Finale

Part 10; The stream of truth

Upon feeling the crisp air enter his lungs, John would flutter his eyes open. He breathed out slowly, feeling his eyes become less and less heavy. JFK was warm and snug in his blankets, feeling a strong sense of comfort. He arched his back forwards, lifting himself up and rubbing his left hand on his forehead, moving it and running it in his hair before sitting up.
He felt something hard hit his hand. It was his phone. Suddenly, his thoughts came flooding in slowly as he snapped out of his morning haze. The memories of last night became more and more vivid.
He jumped out of bed, feeling fresh and renewed. The heaviness his heart carried was still there, but much less than it had been this past week. Maybe it was during this time he could really think, maybe even change.
Jack got ready to go to school, this morning taking his time and making sure he seemed healthy and, well, alive.
After a hot shower, he put on a freshly washed sweater rather than his usual shirt. It was fuzzy and warm from being in the dryer. JFK tucked the sweater into his lightly tanned pants and tightened it all together with a well taken care of leather belt. His hair was nearly combed back and his face looked as good as ever.
He didn't speak that morning. He just kept proceeding through his usual routine silently until he got to school.
He didn't see Vincent, which made him even more flustered. He was nervous to see him, especially after reading the message. To be perfectly clear, Jack was ecstatic and heart warmed after reading it, but he had to clear things up with Gogh so it wouldn't happen later. He just wanted to get it over with before something potentially happened that would prevent it.
Classes seemed much more peaceful, he smiled throughout the day. His peers would return the gesture and even give reassuring shoulder pats when he walked by.
The day went on, it wasn't as silent as it had been Monday. The students began chatting among themselves respectively quietly, but began to progressively get back to normal.
He looked around for Gogh whenever he wasn't in class, where was he? Kennedy hoped he wasn't sick or potentially avoiding him. The thoughts worried him, but he still managed to maintain a calm outside.
The bell rang and it was time for his final class of the day. It was history, one of the most boring classes where students were generally free to just think and whisper to each other, though as soon as the teacher turned they would grow louder. There were memorable moments, mostly with Ponce.
All JFK could think about were the times he had with Ponce. How they'd have talked about sports and girls. When they made stupid jokes and laughed at the world who was revolting against them. Those were the days, Ponce and him V.S the universe.
He let a quiet chuckle escape him, a hint of sadness creeping inside of it. Oh, how he longed for his best bud to come back, they'd share a laugh while hearing the sizzle of their freshly opened beer cans. They'd make out with their ladies and hang out with each other, just being satisfied with the presence of one another.
His thoughts were blown away like ashes in the wind as someone slid into the seat beside him. He turned his head, a little disappointed that it wasn't Gogh or Ponce, but rather Julius Caesar, his old pal.
"JFK, how are ya?" He smiled reassuringly at JFK, who slightly smiled back.
"I'm uh, doing the best I err, can be doing..." he sighed.
"I just thought I'd check in. I'm here for you, you're my favorite captain after all!" Julius tried to bring a genuine smile to the jockeys face, but his attempts would barely even get a pity smile from the guy.
"Heh, err uh, thanks, bud. I err, don't know if I'll be able to uh, play for a while... I'm a little tired lately." He said sadly. Julius nodded and smiled.
"Well, hang in there, captain. There's still hope." With that, Julius left back to his usual seat.
Jack couldn't help but feel a little thankful for the short interaction. It felt good to talk to his friend. Maybe his life would slowly get back on track. He smiled at the thought. Maybe it wasn't about forgetting Ponce, maybe it was about cherishing the memories and making new ones to love as well with new people.
It felt like hours had passed before it was finally time to leave.
He stood up and calmly made his way out. His classmates let him pass by without any hold up. It felt a little strange, but regardless he appreciated the gesture.
He saw Van Gogh exit the art room. Was he in there all day? What was he doing? He could only wonder as he made his way to his locker and packed his things up.