FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Crossroads - Zack - Chapter Three

Zack Bailey was silent and brooding as always as he strode through the halls. Despite it being a Friday, it was still morning, so his mind was still weighed down by that sluggish fog that hung about during the early hours of the day. Plus, he had lost a couple hours of sleep doing homework, so the jackal wasn't in the best state today. The other students seemed to notice this and stood clear out of the way as he lumbered through. He paid them no mind, staring straight ahead and down a little due to his sleepiness, and remained bound toward his destination.

He found his locker on the far end of the school, around the corner near the art wing. His fingers went on autopilot, twisting the lock precisely and swinging the door open. As he unloaded his bag into the small space, the jackal caught a familiar flash of red out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head slightly, he got a full view of the culprit, and he resisted the urge to growl.

The thin fox was completely oblivious to his gaze, gathering his things for his first class. Clad in jeans and a collared shirt and eyes unfocused, the vulpine character seemed about as tired as he was. He could have blended in perfectly with the crowd, the way his tail remained limp behind him and his posture betrayed his morning fatigue. But this wasn't just any fox. This was someone he knew. Someone whose name he still hadn't forgotten after all these years.

Junior.

The fox must have sensed he was being watched, because his head turned toward him with a frown. Their eyes met, and Junior's expression became stone cold. Zack's grip tightened on the metal door of his locker as his dark blue eyes glared into soft orange-brown. The fox stared right back without a flinch, unblinking. There was no fear in those eyes, none of the nervous anticipation that so many of the other students shared. That unwavering gaze held intense hate, murderous determination with a rebellious streak. There was a fire burning in those amber orbs, communicating words that didn't need to be spoken.

Zack stood fast, his dark blue eyes returning their own icy glare. His stony gaze pushed back with equal force, his resentment making itself known. His entire body was frozen in place, as if waiting for his adversary to make the first move. The muscles of his paw began to ache from his vice grip on the metal locker door, and from the memory of his fist connecting with that long muzzle...

As if in unspoken truce, the pair swung their lockers shut with a loud metallic clang. They held each other's gaze for a moment longer before turning away and stalking off in opposite directions.

Some wounds will never heal.

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

Zack circled the perimeter of the gym in a fast walk rather than the light jog assumed by his classmates. He just wasn't in the mood to run today. Besides, if he knew the coach well, they would begin training for fitness tests soon, and he didn't want to be too tired in the case they started today.

The coach's whistle sounded throughout the room and jolted Zack from his thoughts. Out of habit, the jackal derailed from his course and joined the rest of the students around the coach. After finishing his notes on the clipboard in his paw, he cleared his throat.

"Well, cubs, today we're going to be focusing on the usual fitness tests," said Coach Salt. "There's going to be a series of tests at the end of the semester for which you'll all need to be in shape to pass."

"Tests? Like what?" Asked a student right behind the jackal.

"Like what we'll be doing today. And don't interrupt," the coach responded to the interjection. "Today, we'll be doing the mile. Running the mile, I mean. And your grades will depend on your times..."

Zack stopped listening halfway through the coach's spiel. He had done this several times before, so he knew by now how the tests worked. First, they'd begin with the mile run, and then they'd move on to weight lifting. And after that, they would do that classics - pushups, sit-ups and the like. All easy for him. I wonder how he'll manage, he thought, his dark eyes moving toward the small wolf who was shifting nervously on his paws during the explanation.

It wasn't long before they started to head out onto the track. The jackal had been caught in the middle of his musing, so he almost got left behind. Huffing, he sped toward the group in order to keep up. Someone bumped into him as he made his way to the track, and he glanced back irritably. It was that stupid wolf again. Figures.

"Boys, you're up first," Coach Salt announced as they lined up. "At the line. Remember, four laps around the track is one mile."

Zack got into position at the back of the group, right next to Argent the wolf who looked at him surprised. Before the wolf could say anything to him though, the whistle blew and Zack kicked off, his strong legs propelling himself forward. The group stayed together for about half of the first lap before they began to spread out, the less active of the kids lagging behind. Zack, who was easily one of the most in-shape students there, pulled ahead of the group, making very good time.

Zack finished his first lap without breaking much of a sweat. Eyes unfocused, he was in his own little world, as he tended to be when they did these tests. It felt good to run like this, without a care in the world. He knew he was going to finish with a pretty good time, so grading wasn't an issue. This was one of the only things Zack could do to just relax; nothing could get in his way -

A white-furred figure stumbled a few feet in front of him, and he had no time to dodge before they collided and he was sent tumbling forward as well. His foot caught the figure as he fell, and the victim yelped in pain. Zack hit the ground hard, but manage to lessen the impact with his arms and paws well enough.

Zack rolled over to see who he had tripped over. His eyes flared in rage when he saw who it was. It was him again! That _fucking_clumsy wolf!

Enraged, the jackal grabbed the shocked wolf by the collar of his shirt and lifted him up. "The fuck's your problem?!" Zack shouted angrily. Argent gave a shout and Zack dropped him, causing him to fall backwards.

"Break it up, boys. You okay, Argent?" Coach Salt was there in a heartbeat. "Don't look too bad. Just a small scrape."

Now that he looked properly, Zack saw that the wolf did indeed have a minor scrape on his knee, a small bit of blood staining the fur.

"Yeah, nothing too serious." The coach looked up at Zack. "There's a first aid kit in the gym beside the fire extinguisher. Bring it here. Now. And make sure that it's clean and bandaged. Got it?"

Zack wasn't going to argue. "Yes, sir," he said politely with suppressed resentment.

Zack begrudgingly went back to the gym building to get the first aid kit. Why the fuck should I have to fix his knee? I'm not his fucking dad. It wasn't even my fault! These thoughts and more ran through his mind as he grabbed the kit and returned to the track.

He found the wolf sitting off to the side watching the rest of the class finish their laps. Zack knelt beside the wolf without a word, taking the necessary supplies out of the kit. Argent hissed in pain when he wiped the wound with the antiseptic wipes. Zack didn't even acknowledge the reaction; putting on the bandage, he closed the kit and stood.

"Thanks," muttered the wolf.

"Whatever."

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

Zack hurried to the art room after school ended so that he could get a head start on his art piece. Once he finished the main object of his painting, he would need to paint a background, and that would likely take a large chunk of his time.

"Hello, Zackery!" Mr. Wagner greeted him when he arrived.

"Hi."

"How has your day been?" The teacher didn't seem to mind the jackal's bluntness at all as he finished moving some things around for the club.

"It's been fine," Zack said as he took out an easel.

"Good, good," replied Mr. Wagner. "I'll be at my desk if you need any help."

"Thanks."

Zack got to work at once. In his mind, he had a perfect image of what he wanted the painting to look like; he just needed to make it happen. The jackal ignored the many students that arrived sometime after, quickly slipping back into his own world as he painted.

He heard someone take a seat across from where he sat. He didn't even have to look to know it was that wolf again.

"Hi," said Argent as he sat down.

"Hi," Zack replied without thinking. The eyes on the painting now finished, he got started on the background.

"Thanks for earlier," Argent said. "And I'm sorry about tripping you."

Zack resisted the urge to growl. "You're a clumsy little fucker, aren't you?"

"Well, you tripped over me! That makes you just as clumsy!"

The nerve of this guy. Zack fixed him with a withering glare that appeared to silence him quite effectively. Satisfied, he went back to his art. However, after a short while he noticed the wolf was still looking at him. Just staring, as if the jackal was some new spectacle he had never seen before. Almost reverently, even. Zack had to admit, it was a bit creepy.

"Must you stare?" He snapped, causing Argent to jump. "It's weird."

He didn't expect what the wolf said next. "How'd you get so buff?"

Zack's dark eyes flickered briefly toward the wolf. What the fuck is he on about now? Where'd that come from? He settled for a simple, "I work out."

Argent only kept rattling on. "Bet you can pass the fitness tests without even breaking a sweat."

Zack couldn't help but feel flattered at the comment. "Probably."

"How much do you bench?"

Zack's painting paw froze as he looked at the wolf again. Why was Argent suddenly so interest in him? His eyes stared skeptically into the wolf's as he grumbled, "What?"

Argent hesitated. "...how much do you bench?"

"Why do you care?" Despite the wolf's interest, Zack was beginning to get annoyed.

"...well, I was thinking, maybe, it'd be cool to finally be strong and buff and stuff." Argent seemed to just be tactlessly rambling now. "Because, you know, just to not be so small and scrawny and -"

"Weak." Zack couldn't help himself.

"Hey!"

The jackal shook his head as he painted. Typical. "You can't just lift a bunch and suddenly get buff. You gotta work up to it."

Argent gazed at him in awe. "You sure know a lot about working out and stuff."

Zack rolled his eyes. Did this damn wolf ever shut up? "Well, I do it all the time."

"It shows. You look good."

There it was again. That feeling of immense flattery that made his chest feel fuzzy. And just a little bit of creepiness. Perplexed, Zack shot the wolf another glance. Argent stared back at him, ears perked and green eyes shining with innocence. The jackal turned back to the almost identical wolf on the canvas. Easier to tolerate him that way.

"Just...work on your drawing or whatever."