Vincent sat on the curb, tears having dried way for panic. Panic about what might happen to Lucas. He didn't believe the whole crap about being a good luck charm, it was superstitious, but Lucas did, and that could be detrimental because Lucas would operate as if it was true. Vincent knew Lucas could do it all on his own, he just didn't know that Lucas knew that. 

     Vincent pulled out his phone, fruitlessly calling random people in his contacts, hopeful at least one would answer and come pick him up.

     "Pick up, pick up, pick up!" He chanted as Hailey's phone ring. "UGH!" He scream-groaned as Hailey's cheerful voice messaging system picked up. Next he tried Dustin much to the same response, followed by Sarah, and even Brittany. "Two faced slut." He mumbled when she didn't pick up.

     Vincent had spent the whole weekend taking crap from Ms. Marshall, the whole year taking crap from Marty, and his entire life taking crap from everyone. He was sick of it. Sick to his stomach of the kindness that got him stuck on the curb while his boyfriend needed him most. He made excuses for everyone who treated him like shit. Made apologies and forgave them, and he was done. It wasn't nice to call Brittany a slut, but Vincent couldn't care less. It wasn't right to call Ms. Marshall a bitch, but what the hell had being right ever gotten him before? A whole world of pain. 

     Vincent slumped his head to his knees, eyes spilling forth with tears of the pain of a life of subjugation, subjugation that he'd allowed from those who acted with moral inferiority over him. Ms. Marshall felt she had authority, thought she'd given him things, felt he should be grateful to her, because he'd allowed her to feel that way for fourteen years. Vincent's tears dripped down his shirt, making him cold and shivering, though more continued to fall. They streamed down his hands, arms, and cheeks, covering him like a mask, surrounding him like a bubble. His tears were choking the oxygen from his lungs. 

     "No no no!" He screamed, furiously wiping his face. No more tears. He would cry no more tears. Tears were weak, and weakness had gotten him exactly to where he was. People prey on the meek. They take control of those who let them. Maybe if he had shut Marty down from the start, maybe if he'd shut Ms. Marshall down from the start... Maybe if he'd put her in her place, reminded her of where she came from, as she so often did to him. Maybe then she wouldn't feel entitled to say the things she said. 

      Vincent mumbled through the only thing he knew how to do, a prayer for Lucas. Perhaps useless, perhaps the only thing sustaining him. Vincent broke down on the ground, mumbling the words to a Hail Mary taught to him by his mother. Lucas could get injured. Lucas could get killed. But there was nothing Vincent could do. And when there's nothing you can do, you pray. Vincent repeated the words again. Begging for someone, something, to help him. Begging for the safety of Lucas. Begging, begging for the chance to beg and beg again. 

     Human nature is a funny thing. No matter the glories, the disgrace, the madness, we always end up in the same place. Atheists, Catholics, Muslims, Democrats, and Republicans all end up praying to something. We repeat ancient words passed from ancestors, or we let them go and practice positive affirmation, mediation, and manifestation, which are in effect the same exact thing. Sometimes we can't bring ourselves to formalize what we're doing, so we practice the most basic and innate human virtue; hope. No matter the truth, the practicality, or the outcome, life takes and takes until it leaves every person at nothing. Only to come back, be reborn, and go through the whole thing again. 

     Vincent's mother always said, everyone's a Christian when life gets tough. He supposed it was true. In effect, everyone became the same when things were taken from their hands. There were the tough, the resilient, and what you did afterwards was what set you apart as a person, but in a state of panic we're all the same. 

    Vincent got up off the ground, looking around. If his ancestors could hide in the catacombs to practice their religion without being persecuted by the ancient romans, if others ancestors could flee slavery, resist assimilation, or rise against injustice, he certainly could walk to the game. Vincent started off down the road, walking. He knew the general direction of the college, but quickly he lost track and became disoriented. He wasn't sure even how to get back, which left him really really stuck. 

     A cherry red '69 Chevy Vega slowed its pace and pulled up next to Vincent. He looked over and bit hit lip in anguish. The day simply could not get any worse, what came next he wanted less than he even wanted to be yelled at by Ms. Marshall, if that was possible. 

    "Hey! You don't look happy to see me?" The black haired boy rolled down the window with an easy going smile.

    "Marty." Vincent spat. "Have you come to gloat?"

    "Nah. I was just driving to work." Marty shrugged his leather clad shoulders. "Need a ride to the game?"

    "How'd you know about that?"

    "I keep up with things." Marty stated. "Now get it. You're gonna catch a cold. It's freezing and your hair's all wet." 

    Vincent ran his hand through his hair to realize that it was in fact soaked and freezing cold. he hadn't even realized it, but it had started snowing lightly, and melting in his hair. He tugged his jacket closer around his shoulders, for the first moment, realizing how icy cold he was. 

     "I guess I've got a lot of stuff I should say, huh?" Marty chuckled. 

     "I guess. Everybody's always got a lot of shit to say."

     "Are you alright?" Marty eyed Vincent strangely.

    "No." Vincent let his head fall back onto the seat, shutting his eyes and taking a deep inhale to try and calm himself down. His insides still burned from his argument. "I am not alright."

    "What happened?"

    "Why should you care?"

    "Well I'm driving you aren't I?" Marty joked. "Plus, I hear I'm good to talk to."

   "Don't worry about it. I really really don't want to talk about it." Vincent sighed.

    "Are you having trouble with Lucas? Did he kick you out of the car?"

    "No. Nothing like that..." Vincent trailed off. "If I was having trouble with Lucas it would make everything a lot easier."

     "Everything like what?"

    "His mom's back in town. She's been staying with us." 

    "Oh... that sounds rough." 

    "It is rough. She was supposed to drive me to the game... and.. well you see how that ended." Vincent gestured to his soaked clothing.

    "And Lucas won't win if you're not there?"

    "Something like that." Vincent mumbled. 

    "Don't worry. I'll get you there in no time."

    "Why?" Vincent's brows furrowed. "Why are you bothering with me? Why are you driving me?"

    "Cause...." Marty paused. "Because I feel bad.... I feel just terrible- about everything beginning to end. I just... I got so caught up in Lucas' and myself that I couldn't even see or comprehend the facts that were in front of me... I just.. I was stupid and selfish... and I said awful things and I'm sorry, Vincent. I'm really sorry. I'm sorry I messed everything up with Lucas, and there's nothing I can do about it.. it sucks. What I did sucks, and I'm sorry."

    "Marty." Vincent's voice softened. Vincent was still tired of being walked on... but if Marty wanted to apologize... then maybe the world wasn't so terrible after all. Maybe life didn't have to be awful just because. 

    "I'm really sorry. I know a stupid car ride doesn't make up for what I said. I know nothing really makes up for that." Marty broke into a small smile. "I'd apologize to Lucas, but you're easier. Besides, I owe you one.. maybe more, if I'm honest."

    "Get in line." Vincent chuckled bitterly. 

   "Listen, I shouldn't have said you were using Lucas, or that you weren't good enough.. and I'm sorry. I know.. I know now that isn't the case." Marty frowned, eyeing Vincent's soaked clothes as he walked miles in the snow to help Lucas. Prior feelings aside, Vincent was going the extra mile for Lucas, literally, and for something that didn't help him. Marty figured a person wouldn't do that if they weren't there genuinely. 

   "I forgive you Marty." Vincent shook his head. "I get how you were feeling... you were upset and caught off guard...and maybe a little jealous."

     "Maybe..." Marty trailed off. "Maybe a lot. But you should have seen him when you left him the first time, it really was terrible.. and that's how it started... at least that's how I started. Just.. just all you have to do is promise me you're not going to leave him again. Can you do that?"

    "If I haven't left after this week, I think I'm in it for the long hall." Vincent winced. "But.. I think I can."

    "Good..  then that's enough... after everything.. everything that's happened, the two of you deserve to be happy.. and I can go and just move on. I can live with myself if I know that you're both happy, and you're not going anywhere, and Lucas is alright."

     "You haven't screwed things up too bad to come back." Vincent assured, his internal nature defeating his anger once again. "Lucas' is upset, but a lot of much bigger issues have come up... and I think he probably misses you more than he'd like to admit."

     Vincent's phone began ringing in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see Hailey's contact photo on the screen. 

    "Hello?" He answered. 

    "Vincent, where the hell are you?" Hailey screamed into the phone. 

    "I'm on my way." Vincent and Marty shared a look of concern. "My ride fell through. What happened? Are you alright?"

    "I'm fine, but Lucas.. he's hurt... you'd just better get down here." Hailey stuttered, her voice breaking with concern. "You've got a ride?"

    "Lucas is hurt? What happened?" Vincent's voice rose, and he felt hot emotion rising again in his chest. "Hailey?"

    "He's fine. Don't panic... just get down here as fast as you can." Hailey explained. "You've got a ride?" She repeated. 

    "I'm here. This is Marty, I'm driving him." Marty spoke up when Vincent offered no answer. It was like his entire world had faded to black and he couldn't see anymore.    

    "MARTY?" Hailey's shock radiated from the phone.

    "Yes." Marty answered. "I've got Vincent. I'll get him there, don't worry."

    "Oh I'm worried." Hailey stated, and Marty rolled his eyes hanging up the phone. Vincent's face was still completely blank with fear and anguish. His eyes pooled which tears he couldn't cry as he'd cried far too many that day. His heart was empty with nothing pushing or pumping it forward. 

     "It'll be alright." Marty assured. "We're almost there. Everything is going to be fine."