Hi beautiful humans! We have an extra long chapter being uploaded mid-week. Surprise! I hope you'll enjoy the ride that is this update on Lucas at school. You may noticed a twist you didn't expect, but trust I've got it all under control. ;) As the writer I have a master plan at work here, and it will all come together nicely. In the meantime, the plot is chugging ahead and we are diving into some new waters here. The next chapter will focus more heavily on Jae's inner-monologue, and some other plot-driving, yummy things I shall not spoil. I hope you're all doing well and taking care of yourselves. A big thanks again to the lovely Nova Rayne of gay romance Sidelines for being my extra eyeballs. I apologize if I missed anymore typos during the final editing process tonight, but I was eager to get this uploaded. Now to crawl in bed and hope my littlest lets me sleep in just a little this morning! ;)

Happy Wednesday! -Quill

Lucas

I padded down along Sherman's hallway, seeking that lady at the office I'd heard Jae talking to. "What was her name again?" I muttered aloud, tapping the doctor's note against my forearm. My mind soon began to wander once again, and I couldn't help but feel naughty and dirty in the best fucking way.

I blushed at the warmth still in my chest and face, Jae's touch lingering like a ghostly whisper against my skin, and in my mouth. I really did just give head to my new fuckbuddy and sugar daddy in the parking lot. Heh. Was Jae my sugar daddy? I've heard girls sometimes joke about that at school, about wanting a sugar daddy to pay for college, but none of them actually had one. However, I just had the gorgeous, overtly insured, very much employed, and mature Jae Hoffman pay the bill for my doctor visit, plus my meds, and the splint. I knew how much that must have cost, and I would not have been cheap.

I didn't get with Jae to have a sugar daddy, but he literally paid for everything this morning. It made me grin, and I wondered how Jae would react if I called him that. I decided it would be comical, so I made a mental note to call him my sugar daddy later when he picks me up to see how he responds.

The longer my mind lingered on the entire thing, I found myself snickering to myself audibly, and I could feel a grin spreading across my face. Perhaps I looked crazy walking around smiling like this, but I was in a happy state of shock. I pondered the wild trajectory of my day up until now, struggling to believe that it all had indeed been reality.

The pleasure I gave Jae was more than real, which in turn only served as a reminder of how real dad's punishment had been, too. I had almost forgotten about it when I blew Jae. The physical and emotional high of our little activity plus the effects of Oxy put me in a happy place, but now the sad reality of my life was threatening to take over portions of my mind again, casting a cruel shadow over the kindness Jae had so spoiled me with.

I wondered, would I turn into a kindness-expecting, snuggle-seeking monster if he doted more affection on me? Perhaps. Now that I think about it, I've just described the mindset of a dog—a golden retriever to be more exact, which is very fitting.

Jae...He was fucking hot, intimidating even, but then he had this gentleness to him that was disarming; the way he spoke and acted, the way he took care of me... Jae didn't have to force or demand my respect, because somehow, he had already earned it. When Jae was dominating and stern, it only spurred me into craving both the pleasure and his punishment like a madman. Punishment or pleasure with Jae, well, they were each their own reward, and those moments with him felt like both an erotic dream, yet a place of safety all at once.

My heart raced at the lingering feeling of his strong hand cradling my face, the taste and feel of his mouth against mine... it was perfect, and I stopped, wavering there in the hallway like a creep with my eyes shut, savoring the memory of it all.

"Price, why aren't you in class?" A familiar voice snapped me out of my golden-retriever-esq-Jae-crazed stupor, and I opened my eyes to find Coach Moor eyeing me with confusion.

"Uh, hey Coach!" I babbled, waving awkwardly with my left hand. He frowned and looked me over, giving me a double take once spotting my splint.

"What the fuck happened to your hand, Lucas?" Lowering his voice as the word "fuck" left his mouth. I glanced nervously between he and my hand, trying to figure out what to say.

"I, uh... I broke it?"

Coach Moor chewed his gum anxiously, stepping closer to look. I wanted to pull away, wanted to tell him to leave me alone, but I was stupid to think he wouldn't have questions for me. I guess had to talk to Coach today anyway about this, so I guess I was just getting it over with now.

"Damn it, Lucas..." he huffed, shaking his head. "How the hell did you break your hand?" There was frustration in his voice, but he was gentle as he examined my hand.

"You know me... I'm clumsy, all that. I uh, well, my car door was blown shut this morning and it crushed my hand. Super crazy gusts today." I bit my lip and forced a nervous laugh, but it came out sounding faker than I'd hoped. Coach studied my face intently, his mouth forming a tight line.

"Oh yeah? Your door attacked your face too, then?" He pointed to the bruises on my face, chewing his gum even more aggressively; he always did that when he was nervous, mad, or worried. Naturally, I too began to get nervous, because Coach had never cornered me like this before over past bruises I came to school with. What gave?

Typically, I went to great lengths to cover them with that special compact, but I couldn't find it this morning, and had to go without.

"Um. No, that uh, that was from Karate practice." I kicked myself immediately, wondering why in the hell I chose Karate as my excuse. I've never done karate in my life! Dad's right, I really do suck at lying.

He let go of my hand abruptly and raised his brows, exhaling a dry laugh. "You don't do Karate, Lucas."

I swallowed hard and shrugged, not sure how to respond. "Um... yeah? I started a month ago, and I didn't tell anyone just yet cause I suck at it. Clearly!" I shrugged, pointing to my face. Coach said nothing for a bit, only sighing heavily as he blew more bubbles whilst staring me down.

Finally, after a painful silence, he spoke.

"Lucas Andrew Price, I have been your coach since Freshman year, and I'm only going to say this once, so listen closely, yeah?" The expression on his face was difficult to read, but I nodded emphatically, hopeful my apparent eagerness to listen would get him off my back.

"You ever lie to me again about the source of your recurrent injuries, yeah those, which I've certainly noticed on occasion despite the lies you and your father spun..." he faltered there, eyeing me pointedly, and I felt like my face must have gone white.

What? What in the hell did that mean? Had he actually spoken to dad, and if so, when?

"... and I will bench you for the rest of the season. Although, it seems I'm gonna need to bench you already because of that fucked hand of yours, ain't that right?" he finished abruptly, crossing his arms in resolve.

My mind raced as I attempted to make sense of it all—how did coach know, had he always known? When did he talk with dad? Just then, I recalled a sort of surprise visit we'd gotten from CPS; it'd occurred sometime during my junior year, and that struck me as significant.

Sure, Dad and Penny put on a show, gave the lady a tour of dad's big, clean house, and my nice bedroom. I played my part, I lied to a "T" just like dad told me to do, and she bought it. After a month, the investigation was closed. All I knew at the time was someone had reported dad, but I never knew who tipped them off. Back then, I was terrified of being put back into foster care, and I would've done anything, including stay with my fuck-face of a dad to avoid that.

I was heavily tempted to ask Coach there and then—had it been him? I began to stutter and swallow back tears.

When I lived with mom, we were really poor, but she never hurt or abused me in any way. Deep down I always knew she loved me, but the reality was she loved heroin more, and eventually she couldn't get away from it, the drugs. I didn't start showing up to school with injuries until Dad got custody over the last year and a half, so really, it all began to add up. Fuck, why couldn't everyone just leave this alone and let me finish my Senior year in peace?

I don't want to face dad, don't want to go to any stupid court and relive shit, or talk to a judge, I just want to keep my head down, get through the remainder of the year, and graduate. Also, I want Jae to fuck me. Was that too much to ask?

"Did you hear me, Lucas?" He pressed.

"Yeah..." I mumbled, white knuckling the shoulder of my backpack. I took a few deep breaths, praying he'd listen to my next plea. "Look, I know I can't make you do anything, but please don't bench me indefinitely! I mean, yeah, the doctor did say I would need to sit out for the next six weeks, b-but Coach, I can still come to practice right? Can't I at least come and watch?" Anxiety was short-circuiting my brain. "Please! It... it keeps me at school longer." I added, regretting those words instantly.

Coach sighed and ran a hand down his face, expression softening at my display.

"Please..."I pressed, sniffling as I fought back tears. If Coach benched me indefinitely, I don't know what I would do, except maybe work. It wasn't just a way to stay away from home, it was something I loved, too. I loved playing, and I loved seeing my friends. What would I do if I couldn't be there anymore?

"Fine, it's not mandatory given your injury, but if you want, be at practice today per usual. I'll find something for you to do while everyone plays." He said, and for maybe a moment I saw some compassion in Coach's weathered brown eyes. Coach Moore was a tough son of a bitch, and he didn't smile a lot, but he was level-headed and took care of us. I respected the man more than my own father, that's for sure.

"Y-yes, I'll be there. Thank you!" I stuttered, heart racing as it tried to soothe itself back into a gentler rhythm.

"Mmhmm." He mumbled; I didn't miss the way his gaze dropped to my hand again. Coach looked concerned and I suspected didn't believe my excuses one bit, but if he didn't press me further about it, I was content. I just didn't want to miss practice, even if that meant I had to sit on the sidelines and watch everyone else play.

"Well, I have to get to the office and drop my doctor's note off." I said, forcing an awkward grin.

Moore raised a brow. "Who took you to the doctor, Lucas?"