The Apology | By : Jim_Jenkins Category: G through L > Jack & Bobby Views: 360 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Jack & Bobby. The series and its characters are property of Greg Berlanti, Vanessa Taylor, Steven A. Cohen and Brad Meltzer. I make no profit from this story. |
A/N: Jack and Bobby is one of my all time favorite series that aired on the WB. This is not my first story pairing Bobby and BJ together, but is the first I am posting here. Reviews and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. If you like the story and want me to continue it, let me know. Would have liked to have seen some reconciliation between them towards the end of the episode “Querida Grace”. This is how I picture it, honest and up front. Will be writing another story based on the series soon. Enjoy!
Ringing. There was incessant ringing of the doorbell, but Bobby McCallister was too tired, physically and mentally, to answer the door. “Come in,” he yelled. More intensely the second time: “It’s cool come in!”
Bobby could not have been more surprised to see his friend BJ Bongaro, nor less surprised. Nothing made sense anymore. Not since they got into a fight at lunch earlier today when BJ insulted Bobby’s Dad. BJ never saw it coming until, well, until Bobby said one that evening that it was time for “a talk.” He didn’t know about the circumstances surrounding Bobby’s Dad. Nor that his best friend Warren, his confidant and owner of his heart, was just as curious past what Bobby let on. That was what, a week ago? Two? BJ wondered why he felt guilty, and feared he got so conflicted so often in his despair that peers at school would start to avoid him. Maybe he was losing it now.
He realized he should be angry that Bobby had the nerve to punch him, but he couldn’t muster enough energy to protest. BJ startled himself when his pet name for Bobby spilled from his lips. “Hey, Mac.” His stomach knotted at the word. Bobby was somebody’s precious angel, but no longer his.
“Can we talk about what happened last week?” the 13-year-old brunette asked, taking a seat. It seemed to BJ as if the time for talking was long gone, although the detention period they served was still at least fresh in both of their minds. This would be their first conversation since what he regarded as a sucker punch. That was when Bobby displayed a rare streak of anger, struck out after hearing his Dad’s name slandered, and jumped on BJ with a wolfish ferocity.
“Full of himself” was what BJ’s called him, but an all too real and heart-wrenching interpretation.
Bobby looked pensive and exhausted. BJ wondered if their fight had weighed upon him on the same level. Or whether Warren the Moral Compass might already have helped ease his pal’s burdens. Bobby was still trying to find his voice when BJ silenced the speculations in his head. Whatever the McCallister kid’s issue was, he was about to hear it from the source.
“I’m not sorry for what I did, you know,” Bobby said, biting on his lower lip. He read BJ’s searching expression and explained. “When you said I made the whole archaeologist thing up. It was a lie. I never knew him, even when, uh, it’s so messed up.” BJ bowed his curly head as he went on. “It was the stupidest thing I ever did, saying that. I went with a story my Mom made up so people wouldn’t think I’m a dork. I’m sure now some at school do. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since that day.”
“Yet you’re still lookin’ for the truth,” BJ said. “What do you want to know about him so much?”
“No, I’m not,” Bobby responded in a voice nearly too low to hear.
“He left you?”
“No.”
“Your Mom left him?”
“Was sort of the other way around, yeah. Yeah, he left her.”
“Again, McCallister, what do you want?”
“That’s complicated,” Bobby said, sucking in a deep breath as if there was a lot to explain. “First, I want you to forgive me. I don’t deserve it, but that’s what an apology really means. I was just nervous, mad, frustrated and kinda didn’t want to talk about him like a fake. I never should’ve gone with my Mom’s cover story. Second man, I want you to forgive yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong, before or after the fight at lunch, and I don’t want you feeling shitty when I was saying just that. I was jealous of you and wanted to look great in front of everybody. Not just in school; not in life. You’re one of the few who treats me like I really was your friend. And, you know, I never once heard of any bad thing you said to anyone about me, but I deserved as good as I got. Third, I want you to know that I like you, only you, now and always. Even if you never talk to me after tonight”
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