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Crossroads - Zack - Chapter Two

"C'mon...where is that damn pencil..."

The black jackal was bent over with the front end of his body inside his car and his tail and legs sticking out the open door. It had reached the end of the school day, and Zack had gone out to his car to pick up his canvas before heading to the art club. However, as he reached across the driver's seat to grab the canvas, the box of brushes and pencils in his half-slack paw had fallen and bust open on the floor, some of the supplies rolling underneath the seat. So now he had to retrieve them, and quick, before he was late.

"Hah! Gotcha, you fucker..."

Zack stood up straight at full height, clutching the evasive bright orange pencil in between his fingers. He returned it to its rightful place in the box and shut his car door, checking his watch. The search had taken him the better part of ten minutes, and the parking lot was on the opposite side of the school from the art room. At this point, he was likely to be late.

"Fuck..." Zack growled as he made his way back to the doors, canvas under one arm and supply case in the other paw.

It was certainly an odd sight, a big and burly jackal known for his gruff demeanor striding purposefully down the halls with art supplies in paw. No one truly understood why someone like him would be interested in art, but at the same time, no one dared question it lest they get their face punched in. He certainly didn't seem the creative type, but there it was. Any passing students stood out of his way as he lumbered down the arts corridor.

Zack finally reached the art room and almost immediately stopped in his tracks. The very first thing he saw when he entered was that skinny white wolf - Argent, was it? - talking with the art teacher, Mr. Wagner. He just couldn't manage to stay away from him, could he? That wolf was everywhere! The teacher was speaking enthusiastically with the wolf before Zack was noticed.

"...Actually, there's someone in the club who is quite good at - Zackery!"

Zack's heart skipped a beat as he was mentioned, that wolf seeming to have a similar reaction. His surprise still hadn't quite left him as his eyes found Argent's, the same sentiment echoed in the wolf's.

What's he doing here?

He broke his gaze to address the teacher. "Sorry I'm late. Had to get my materials."

"No trouble at all," said Mr. Wagner in his thick German accent. "I'm always glad to see you, my boy. Take your seat. I look forward to seeing what you come up with today."

Zack gave him a nod in assent and found an empty seat. He took an easel from underneath the table and gingerly placed his canvas on it. The jackal got out his case and prepared to draw with one of his charcoal pencils. He already had an idea what he wanted to draw today.

Speaking of...

"So, what'll you be drawing today?" He heard Mr. Wagner speak behind him.

At first, he thought the leopard was talking to him, but then he heard Argent speak uncertainly. "I don't know...hadn't thought of it much..."

"There is no need to have a definite idea of what you want to draw," said Mr. Wagner in understanding. "Let your ideas come naturally, do not force them. I'll be at my desk if you need anything or you can ask anyone here to help. Zackery in particular knows this room well; he knows where I keep everything."

You had to bring me into it...

_ _ "Okay."

"Take any seat you want."

Zack tuned them out, opting to concentrate on his drawing. He usually went for a nice abstract painting, but he was going to doing something a bit different today. Drawing on imagination alone, he began to carefully sketch with the charcoal pencil. It had been a while since he had done a proper sketch, but he was good enough.

His concentration was broken briefly by a rustling noise in front of him. It appeared that Argent had chosen the seat across from him to sit in. That was fine, whatever.

Zack went back to his sketch and soon had it finished. Moving his head away from it to look at it properly, there was something wrong with it. The sketch was just fine, but there was something missing from it. And he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He'd need something to compare it against to be sure...

Hang on...

The jackal tore his gaze away from his canvas to focus on the wolf in front of him, who seemed to be lost in thought. Zack had a decent view of him from behind the easel, Argent's muzzle contorted into a frown. The light from the windows was perfect for the setting, allowing Zack to take in the details of the wolf's visage.

Then suddenly, the wolf was looking at him. The shocked expression on his muzzle only served to accentuate the shine of his emerald eyes and the flow of his neatly brushed fur. His nose twitched curiously and his tail could be seen wagging softly behind him. The jackal's eyes silently and unblinkingly analyzed the figure, every hair, every contour, searching for something to complete the picture.

There. On top of the wolf's head, his fur fluffed up a little bit, combined with the sunlight creating an almost virginal air about him, the innocence of a child.

That was his answer.

Zack turned once more to his canvas, his charcoal pencil moving up towards the top of his sketch. This would be perfect.

...................................

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­A shrill whistle broke his concentration a while later. Zack responded only with a blink, having become desensitized to the sound by now. At this point, he had finished his sketch and had moved on to painting, his brushed currently covered in white with a little black to provide contrast from the color of the canvas.

"Okay, guys, that's about it for today," Mr. Wagner announced. "Don't forget, we'll be having our first art show of the year soon. Everybody is going to enter, right?" After murmurs of affirmation from the students, he continued. "Excellent. I look forward to it. But the late bus will be leaving soon, so I suggest you collect your things and be ready to go."

Chairs scraped and papers rustled as people got up and began to clean up. Zack himself moved to the sink to wash his brushes. As he had mostly used his own materials, he didn't have much to clean up. Behind him, he heard Argent and Mr. Wagner begin talking again.

"Nicely done," the teacher's accent emphasizing his approval. "You captured him well."

Wait, what? Did he draw someone? Zack couldn't remember the wolf asking anyone if they could draw them. Then he recalled the wolf's gaze as he worked on his own sketch. Was he drawing me?

_ _ "Uh, thank you," Argent said nervously. But I'd better get going. Thanks for letting me join the club. I really appreciate it."

"It's no trouble," said Mr. Wagner. "I hope you'll join us Friday as well?"

"Yep. But I gotta go, my dad's waiting on me." Argent seemed to be in a hurry, clearly anxious to leave. "Bye."

"Bye."

Zack realized his brushes were already plenty clean; he had just been eavesdropping for the past thirty seconds or so. He turned back to find Mr. Wagner admiring his painting.

"Hmm, interesting," he said in contemplation. "Very interesting..."

Zack frowned. "Is it bad?"

"Oh, certainly not, Zackery!" Mr. Wagner exclaimed. "It was not my intention at all to suggest such a thing! I am merely intrigued by your sudden change of style. I don't think I have seen you attempt a portrait before."

"Yeah," Zack said as he continued to pack up his things. "I thought I'd try something new."

"And a fine choice it was," replied Mr. Wagner, nodding. "I would say you have a knack for putting emotion into your work. Simple, yet elegant."

Glancing at the partially finished painting on the canvas, Zack couldn't help but agree. The figure he had chosen to imitate did not feature a great amount of color, only black and white with some variants of grey; but the portrayal of youth and innocence was definitely there, as he had intended. It reminded him of Tristan in some ways.

"Thanks," the jackal said, shutting his case. "It's not done yet, though."

"That's perfectly alright, I can keep it here for you." Mr. Wagner said, making his way back to his desk. "I look forward to seeing the finished product. I expect I will see you on Friday?"

"Yes sir," Zack said politely, heading for the door. "Bye."

"Goodbye, Zackery."

Zack walked back through the school corridors feeling confident. The art club always seemed to put him in high spirits, or at least high by his standards. As he headed toward the side exit, he began to think about the things he still needed to get done. He needed to pick up Tristan, then maybe he'd do some homework. A workout was definitely in order; he had skipped yesterday's due to being too busy. And he still needed to think of something to make for dinner.

All this is mind, Zack reached his car and got inside. The last thought he had before leaving the school was of how he would improve the painting he had gotten started on today.

....................................

Back at home, Zack pulled up on the curb in front of the house. In the seat next to him, his brother Tristan was positively bouncing with energy. Zack was in a rather pleasant mood as well, not only because of the art club, but because of some very good news that Tristan had brought with him after auditions.

Tristan had gotten into the play!

"Aw, wait 'till I tell Mom and Dad!" Tristan chirped as he unfastened his seat belt.

"I'm sure they'll be really happy," Zack said with an encouraging smile that seemed almost uncharacteristic on his muzzle. "What's the play about?"

"We're doing 'The Lion King,'" said the young jackal. "I'm one of the hyenas!"

"That's great, bud," said Zack. "We can call them later if you'd like."

"That would be great! Thank you!"

"It's no problem, bud," Zack responded with a pat on his brother's head. Getting out of the truck, he continued. "Try to get some of your homework done before dinner, alright? I'll come help you with your math in a bit."

"Okay!"

Zack chuckled to himself as he watched his brother almost skipped to the front door and go inside. It was nice to see him in such a good mood. All things considered, today was a rather good day.

He walked through the front door and into the living room to find his other brother Seth sprawled on the couch.

Spoke too soon.

_ _ "What are you doing?"

Seth glanced upward at him lazily, then went back to watching the wide-screen television. "I'm watching TV. What's it look like I'm doing?"

"Well, turn it off," Zack snapped. "You know the rules. No TV until your homework is done."

Seth shrugged. "Nah."

"Seth, don't do this again." The tall jackal tensed and gritted his teeth, his anger flaring up suddenly. "Go do your homework."

"Don't wanna."

Zack growled threateningly. "I'm going to count to three."

"Yeah, yeah."

"One."

Seth didn't move.

"Two..."

His teenage brother only glanced up at him lazily again, watching him. But he still didn't move.

"Don't let me get to three -"

Seth snorted. "You ain't gonna hurt me. Mom and Dad would have your ass."

"Language," Zack snapped, raising his voice further. "And they ain't here, are they? That means I'm in charge."

"Mhmm."

Zack fixed him with a glare. "You want me to go call them? I will, ya know."

The way Seth completely ignored him and remained focused on the screen was all the he needed.

"Fine, Imma go call them," Zack said, storming into the kitchen where one of the house phones sat.

"Sick and tired...of his shit..." Zack muttered as he grabbed the wireless phone and roughly punched in the number to his mother's cell phone. The phone call he had planned later no longer mattered. All he saw was red.

It took a few rings for his mother to finally pick up. "Hello?"

Zack opened his muzzle to shout furiously into the mouthpiece. He wanted to rage about how Seth was misbehaving so readily. To vent about how living on his own with only his brothers for company was shit, and how he felt about ready to punch someone's muzzle in -

"Hello?"

Hearing his mother's voice again made him stop himself. Zack sucked in a deep breath through his clenched teeth and clutched the counter, taking the time to calm himself down. After releasing the breath slowly, he managed to utter a single, shaky word.

"Ma."

"Zackery," Karen Bailey said in surprise. "Is everything alright?"

"No," Zack responded. "When are you coming home?"

"Zackery, what happened?" His mother said with concern. "Are Tristan and Seth okay?"

"Yes, Ma, they're both fine," Zack said rapidly.

"Oh. Okay." She responded, sounding relieved. "What's the issue then?"

Zack repeated his question. "When are you coming home?"

"We'll be back late on Saturday evening, like we said. Is something wrong?"

The jackal took another deep breath before continuing with a slight growl. "Seth's acting up again."

His mother sighed. "Zackery, we've told you about this. Just discipline him if he doesn't behave."

"But he doesn't listen!" His anger was beginning to flare up again. "I found him watching TV today instead of doing his homework! He thinks he can just do whatever he damn pleases with you not around -"

"Language," Karen warned. "Did you tell him you'd take something away if he doesn't listen?"

"That's just it! It won't do a damn thing!" Zack said, beginning to shout. His free paw curled into a fist as he began to rant. "He thinks he's so high and mighty he doesn't have follow simple rules. I tell him he has to do homework, he ignores me. I tell him eat his damn breakfast, he says 'nah, I think I'll just drink one of your protein shakes, yeah, nothing at all wrong with that!' I swear, the next time that fucker talks back to me, I'll -"

"ZACKERY!" His mother shouted over the phone and interrupted his rant. She then spoke quietly and calmly. "Breathe."

Zack's heart pounded hard in his chest as he shut his eyes and took deep breaths.

"Come on, count with me," Karen said slowly and soothingly. "Two...four..."

"Six...eight..." Zack continued with his mother, counting by twos all the way to fifty. It was a calming mechanism they had established for times when he got fired up like this.

"Forty-eight...fifty." Karen waited a few moments in silence before speaking again. "Better?"

"...yeah..." His heart still beat rapidly, but at least he was no longer shouting and cussing. "Can you please come home?"

"You know we can't do that, Zackery. We have to stay for the whole week," said Karen. "You can do this. It's just a week. You call every time, and every time it works out anyway. It'll be okay."

Zack sighed, pinching the bridge of his muzzle with two fingers. "I hope so."

"Listen, we've got a few minutes before we need to leave for our meeting," Karen said. "Let's talk about something else."

Zack waited for her to continue.

"So...how has school been?"

"It's been okay, I guess," Zack mumbled, which was the truth. Even if a certain wolf tended to put a damper on his mood.

"Are you still in the art club?"

"Yeah," said the jackal, leaning backward on the kitchen counter as he spoke. "I just went today. I'll be finished a new piece on Friday."

"That's good to hear," his mother said. "We've always admired your art."

A thought popped into his head. "Hey, Tristan got into the play by the way."

"Oh, that's great!"

"Yeah," said Zack. "The performance is in two months, at the end of November. Can you make it?"

"...I'm sorry, Zackery, but I don't think so," Karen said apologetically. "We have another trip planned for that time, so I don't think it's possible."

Another surge of anger rose within the jackal, but he kept himself in check this time. "Tristan would really like you to be there," Zack said, choosing his words carefully.

Karen sighed resignedly. "I'll talk to your father and see what we can do."

His ears perked. "Where's Pa? Is he there?"

"He's in the restroom, getting ready," said Karen. "Look, we have to go now or we'll be late. Why don't you go take a run? We'll call again later tonight, okay?"

Swallowing his annoyance, Zack conceded. "Okay. Bye."

"Bye, Zackery. I love you."

Zack hung up and dragged a paw down his muzzle. This wasn't going the way he planned at all. He couldn't believe his parents were about to skip out on their own son's performance like that. Was their work really more important than family at this point?

Zack shook his head. His mother was right. He needed a run.

On his way upstairs, he found the couch was now empty and the television was turned off. Either Zack's shouting had scared off Seth or he had gotten bored of his show. Zack paid it no mind and continued upstairs to change into his workout clothes. Once clad in a black spandex shirt with red workout shorts, he went back down the stairs and out the door into the open air.

The air was cool and refreshing as he maintained a light jog through his neighborhood. Zack wasn't necessarily an outdoors-y person, but that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the sights. Like the neatly mowed lawns that he passed by. Or that couple that liked to share drinks out on the porch in the afternoon. Or that wide muddy area behind the development that never seemed to dry up. It was familiar sights like these that helped to distract the agitated mind.

Once he finished his short run, Zack opened his garage door to revealed the home workout setup his maintained. It consisted of a bench press, a pullup bar, a punching bag, and a couple other items. Already sweating a little from his warmup, the jackal loaded some weights on the bar, laid down on the bench, and got to work.

Down...up...down...up...

_ _ To distract himself from the monotony of lifting, Zack tried to focus on other things. Naturally, his mind first travelled to the last thing he had experienced before the warmup: his parents.

Down...up...down...up...

_ _ Why were they never here when they needed them? When he needed them. Karen had said herself that they wouldn't be at Tristan's performance, which was outrageous in his mind. They couldn't just leave and expect Zack to handle everything himself. What a dick move.

Down...up...down...up...

_ _ And that brought him to the next issue: Seth. He just didn't seem to want to listen to Zack, no matter what he said. In hindsight, it was a bit odd. He seemed relatively fine when the parents were around, but it was like he did things just to spite him when they weren't. Seth was absolutely infuriating when he wanted to be, and it definitely didn't help Zack's situation as he was already stressed out as it was.

Down...up...down...up...

_ _ Then he thought of that wolf. Argent, he was called (he still didn't know his first name). Jesus, that wolf was so annoying he couldn't escape him even in his thoughts! Zack could recall the first time he saw him, when he bumped into him that one morning. The wolf was clumsy as fuck, even continuing to trip over himself and drop all his books. Fucker deserved it.

The jackal's mind wandered to earlier today during gym, when had caught Argent ogling him in the locker room. One would have thought Zack would be disgusted at being checked out by another guy, but he didn't care. He really didn't give a shit. Let him watch, he thought. I know I'm hot shit anyway.

_ Down...up...down...up..._

And then again, at the art club. Zack definitely hadn't been counting on him joining, so he could remember his surprise when the wolf did show up. It appeared they did have something in common, even if it was only a hobby. Still, as long as Argent didn't bother him, there would be no trouble.

Thinking about Argent the wolf reminded him of the painting he was working on; the one that currently sat in a cabinet in the art room. He still needed to color in what he had, and then it would be finished. But still wasn't quite sure how to complete the painting, to bring it to life.

The painting of a white feral wolf that looked remarkably like Argent...

Down...up...down...UP!

A loud metallic clank rang through the garage as the bar came to a rest on its holder. The sweaty and now pumped jackal sat up and rolled his shoulders, an intense scowl on his face. That damn wolf just wouldn't let up, would he? Couldn't just leave him to his thoughts?

Maybe a dash of green would do...

Zack grunted and got up from the bench, banishing the thought immediately.

"Mmph. Stupid wolf."