{"sf1_id":153871,"sf2_id":"3egDNzwm","title":"All's Fair - Part 6","author":"Xi-entaj","words":2884,"posted_at":"2010-06-15T05:13:00.000Z","tags":["Gay","Hate","Husky","Love","No-Yiff","Wolf"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/153871-all-s-fair-part-6","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/3egDNzwm","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/32/53/32533ede-3dbf-4bc1-bed2-27b01cac526c","description":"#6 of All's Fair","content":"The story's main character is bi, so don't read if you don't want to. As ever, your thoughts and criticism are welcome so that I can get better.\u0026nbsp; Is it believable?\u0026nbsp; Did something in my writing style bug you?\u0026nbsp; Should I have more/less of anything?\u0026nbsp; Did you like the characters?\u0026nbsp; The plot?\u0026nbsp; Did it raise any questions?\u0026nbsp;\n\nThanks for reading!\n\n- Xi\n\n**All's Fair - Part 6**\n\nI got out of the hospital a few days later - a Saturday, incidentally.\u0026nbsp; Ivan, obviously, did not visit me.\u0026nbsp; Jake didn't either, thank God; he sent Amy again, but maybe he was worried that I'd run off again if he showed up in person.\u0026nbsp; He shouldn't have been; I couldn't run if my life depended on it.\u0026nbsp; I sincerely hoped it wouldn't for the near future.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI spent most of the first full week in November catching up in my classes and learning how to walk on one crutch - I couldn't use two because of my broken arm.\u0026nbsp; It wasn't the most fun I'd ever had, but I pushed through to the weekend.\u0026nbsp; That was it, though.\u0026nbsp;\n\nSunday found me collapsed on the spindly wooden chair in my cell, trying not to scream.\u0026nbsp; The problem with broken bones is that they never really stop hurting until they've healed, and even in casts you're always jostling them when you move.\u0026nbsp; For once the doctors were pleased I didn't want their drugs since they were worried about me getting addicted after a month of continual use.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThere was a soft knock on the door, making me squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath in an attempt to get myself together.\u0026nbsp; \"What is it?\" I called after a moment.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe door opened to admit a middle-aged racoon who always smelled like apples.\u0026nbsp; I liked her more than most of the furs at the center because she didn't pretend to be cheerful, just businesslike.\u0026nbsp; I don't remember her name.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Hello, Nick,\" she said, standing by the door - she even shut it behind her - until I realized she wouldn't sit on my bed without permission.\u0026nbsp; I like her.\u0026nbsp; Standing, I indicated the chair with one paw and fumbled to turn it around to face the bed.\u0026nbsp; She stepped forward to help, but I moved between her and the chair, trying to make it look accidental.\u0026nbsp; When I finally got it around, I sat on the bed and looked at her expectantly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe sat very straight in the chair.\u0026nbsp; \"I'll get straight to it, Nick.\u0026nbsp; We have a program where we foster some of our older kids out to different families around the town for a semester.\u0026nbsp; It's a very good way to let you get a feel for being outside the center, to prepare a little for when you leave.\"\u0026nbsp; She smiled faintly.\u0026nbsp; \"It also lets you get out on your own for a while.\"\u0026nbsp; And vice versa.\u0026nbsp; \"You'd be leaving at the start of winter break, for the rest of the semester.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe stopped, perhaps waiting for me to say something.\u0026nbsp; I didn't bother.\u0026nbsp; Part of me wondered if it was an effort to keep my face expressionless, or if I even could do otherwise.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAfter a short pause, she ran her claws through the thick black fur on her head and went on.\u0026nbsp; \"I can understand your feelings -\" can you, indeed? \"- but it's been quite successful with our other kids, and most of them really enjoyed it.\u0026nbsp; But you don't have to if you don't want to.\u0026nbsp; It's up to you - we can notify the volunteer family with no difficulty at all.\"\u0026nbsp; She waited, but I still didn't say anything.\u0026nbsp; \"Well, I'll let you think about it.\u0026nbsp; We don't need to know for another week or so.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nJust as she was about to close the door, I looked up.\u0026nbsp; \"Who's the family?\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nShe consulted her notepad.\u0026nbsp; \"It's the Alteras.\u0026nbsp; They live in the north part of town.\u0026nbsp; They have one child in high school and a couple lower down, but I don't know who they are.\"\u0026nbsp; She left quietly.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI flopped onto the bed once the racoon had left, and suddenly it was all I could do not to laugh derisively.\u0026nbsp; Or scream.\u0026nbsp; I bit my tongue until my eyes watered.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Well, what did you expect?\"\u0026nbsp; I asked the empty air, my voice dripping scorn.\u0026nbsp; \"Is he supposed to drop everything to come panting at your feet?\"\u0026nbsp; I snorted.\u0026nbsp; \"Do you think the center would let him if he did?\u0026nbsp; He's not from a 'socially acceptable family'.\"\u0026nbsp; I swung out of bed and started to head out, but stopped with my paw on the door.\u0026nbsp; Then I turned and started to kick the chair, but stopped that too.\u0026nbsp; Instead I sat gently down in it, stretching my bound leg in front of me.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIvan's last name was Lovan.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't know any Alteras.\u0026nbsp; Ecept the one, I don't usually bother with last names.\u0026nbsp; Idly I wondered if they'd specifically asked for me; the racoon had said it like perhaps they had, but I couldn't think of anyone that stupid.\u0026nbsp; Suddenly I snorted in amusement.\u0026nbsp; Maybe it was Jake.\u0026nbsp; He'd do it out of sheer perversity or whatever misplaced overbearing nobility complex he had.\u0026nbsp; Thank God he didn't like me any better than I liked him.\u0026nbsp; Besides, Amy would kill him.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI tried to tell myself I should go find someone and say yes.\u0026nbsp; At least it'd probably be easier to get out; the family probably wouldn't pick me up every afternoon from school, probably wouldn't mind me leaving for a while, the whole bit.\u0026nbsp; Then again, they must have been warned about me.\u0026nbsp; But still.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't say anything.\u0026nbsp; Eventually I went to bed.\u0026nbsp;\n\nMonday lunch found me in the composition classroom with bruises all over me for fighting with a cougar outside the door before class.\u0026nbsp; He'd been bugging me for a while, and he tried to get on my case for acting fey.\u0026nbsp; Anyway, it is even more difficult than it sounds to scrub desks with a broken arm and leg.\u0026nbsp; The Royal Marine sat behind his desk at the front to make sure I kept at it.\u0026nbsp; It was a new position for him, since he usually walked back and forth in front of the blackboard or around the edges of the room.\u0026nbsp;\n\nAbout fifteen minutes in he sighed and set down the papers he was reading.\u0026nbsp; \"You were doing very well, you know,\" he said quietly in his smooth baritone.\u0026nbsp; \"I don't know about ouside of my class, but here you were doing well.\"\u0026nbsp; I stared at him, but blushed and looked away when he looked straight back.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't place his expression.\u0026nbsp; It wasn't sympathetic, or happy, or disappointed, but it reminded me of those a little.\u0026nbsp; \"You're one of my best students academically.\u0026nbsp; You miss a lot of assignments when you're in the hospital, but your work is good.\"\u0026nbsp; He shrugged.\u0026nbsp; \"Just so you know.\u0026nbsp; You'd best get moving on those desks.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nI was glad for the rest of the scrubbing; it gave me time to think.\u0026nbsp; I didn't dare look at the Royal Marined except out of the corner of my eyes, but he seemed to be engrossed again in whatever he was reading.\u0026nbsp; I didn't say anything, either, but I silently called myself all kinds of names for the warm little glow of pride in the back of my throat.\u0026nbsp;\n\nWhen I got out I'd missed Ivan and Jake in the cafeteria, so I skipped lunch and went hunting.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't find them, though, until, a little frantic, I saw Ivan and his gang coming back from off campus with the remains of a bucket of french fries about a minute before the bell.\u0026nbsp; I tried to get over to him, but on crutches I couldn't pull it off fast enough, and I had to go to history.\u0026nbsp; I still didn't know where Jake was.\u0026nbsp;\n\nA couple days later I remembered to tell the furs at the center that I wanted to do their program.\u0026nbsp; Predictably enough, in retrospect - if that's not a contradiction in terms - they all acted very pleased and immediately doubled their hounding to make me study for my end-of-term examinations.\u0026nbsp; After all, they said, it was important to keep my grades up so as to make a good impression.\u0026nbsp; They never actually came out and said that if I did otherwise they wouldn't let me go; I don't know if they would have or not.\u0026nbsp; I studied.\u0026nbsp; It ate into my time for rule breaking so that my handlers began to think maybe I was doing okay.\u0026nbsp; They let me hang out with Todd and Becky and occasionally Claire - nominally because I shared classes with them.\u0026nbsp; Jake came by once too, and I had to sit through an hour of him helping me with trigonometric identities.\u0026nbsp; The worst part was that I understood them better afterwards.\u0026nbsp; He seemed uncomfortable through it too, as though he kept biting back what he wanted to say, so I can hope he didn't enjoy himself.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThe examinations themselves were hardly difficult.\u0026nbsp; The only way to make them hard is to fear them.\u0026nbsp; As I handed my paper to the Royal Marine I looked at him, wanting to ask what he'd be teaching next semester, but afraid of all the indifferent furs in the class behind me.\u0026nbsp; I couldn't even wish him a happy holiday; I just swallowed and hurried out.\u0026nbsp; Thirty hours later, the semester was over for me.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI wandered aimlessly through the empty halls.\u0026nbsp; The examinations were staggered thoughout the week, so fewer than half the students were there and most of those were still in the classrooms.\u0026nbsp; It left the campus feeling hollow, and my crutch made a heavy, echoing clunk every time it hit the old tile.\u0026nbsp; Most of the lockers at this point stood open, emptied for the winter.\u0026nbsp; I stopped by mine.\u0026nbsp; It was open as well; all I had were some pencils in my pocket.\u0026nbsp; The rest of my academic life had been taken back by the center or burned unceremoniously in a trash bin I'd found halfway across town.\u0026nbsp; I took the pencils out and set them gently at the bottom of the aluminum cavity and shut it.\u0026nbsp; Maybe someone would find them there when they had forgotten theirs.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI looked fondly at the dumpster around back where I'd first gotten onto the roof and nearly gotten choked by Ivan.\u0026nbsp; I set my crutch on it, then made a one-legged jump and a one-armed catch to get on top of it.\u0026nbsp; The impact made my broken bones throb, but not badly anymore.\u0026nbsp; I'd be able to take the casts off in a week and two days, just a week before Christmas.\u0026nbsp; I repeated the process to get to the roof and sat clumsily on the parapet while I watched the hours pass by.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI didn't realize the voice calling \"Mr. Donovan!\" was for me until it reverted to \"Nick!\"\u0026nbsp; Looking around, I spotted an older white tiger looking for me.\u0026nbsp; It must have been later than I thought; I'd been too busy feeling the cold wind in my fur.\u0026nbsp; But I dutifully barked an acknowledgement and dropped my crutch to the ground, then followed it.\u0026nbsp; I botched the landing and wound up lying on the gravel pretending to be a clerk while various body parts registered their complaints.\u0026nbsp; By the time I'd fumbled up to my feet the tiger had rushed over.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"There you are, Nick!\u0026nbsp; Come on, we have to get you cleaned up.\u0026nbsp; Your foster family is coming to pick you up in half an hour, don't you remember?\u0026nbsp; You're supposed to be packing!\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nI actually didn't remember, but I dutifully followed the tiger back to the van, which took us back to the juvenile correction center.\u0026nbsp; Someone had taken the liberty of packing my clothes and near-nonexistant personal posessions already.\u0026nbsp; I made a mental note to set down some rules about private property with whatever fools were taking me in, and another of awe that it should even be necessary.\u0026nbsp; Someone else quickly got me to brush out the dirt and bits of gravel from my fur and change my shirt.\u0026nbsp; Mostly I just went passively along; everyone was making a ridiculous amount of fuss, as though by worrying they could lengthen my sojourn elsewhere.\u0026nbsp;\n\nIn ten minutes I was waiting in the correction center's lobby with one suitcase behind me.\u0026nbsp; At least it was a nice shade of navy blue, since I couldn't get them to go for red to match the died fur on my limbs and chest.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI could tell by the sounds from the office when the Alteras arrived, and despite myself I perked my ears up in curiosity.\u0026nbsp; A moment later a well-dressed couple stepped into view looking at me as curiously as I did them.\u0026nbsp; The male was a tall brown wolf, and his wife was a deer nearly as tall with very striking red-black fur.\u0026nbsp; They were both in business suits.\u0026nbsp; They smiled tentatively at me, and I gave them a shy grin of my own.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThen Jake walked in behind them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nI could actually feel all expression dripping off my face like so much oil.\u0026nbsp; Without a word I turned around and hobbled as fast as I could back to my stripped cell.\u0026nbsp; I heard voices behind me, but ignored them.\u0026nbsp;\n\nUnfortunately, when you pull a stunt like that someone always has to follow you.\u0026nbsp; I'd barely shut the door behind me when it opened again to frame Jake's silhouette.\u0026nbsp; With one quick glance he took in the tiny room, empty bed frame, clean desk, window, husky.\u0026nbsp; I smiled, my face cold.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Welcome to my lair,\" I said formally, almost hiding the bitter venom behind my voice.\u0026nbsp; Jake couldn't seem to think of anything to say, so I filled the silence for him.\u0026nbsp; \"Do let me give you a tour.\u0026nbsp; No hanging skulls or anything, in case you were wondering.\u0026nbsp; Nope, just an eight-by-ten space to live.\u0026nbsp; The bed, here, the desk, right here.\u0026nbsp; There's a bathroom and a closet behind that door.\u0026nbsp; They're all empty, now, of course, since some idiots wanted to foster me.\u0026nbsp; Funny.\u0026nbsp; I'd never thought you were stupid, just noble.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe finally found his voice.\u0026nbsp; \"Thanks ever so,\" he said sarcastically.\u0026nbsp; \"Had I known you lived in such splendor, I'd have never talked my parents into offering you a room at our place, where you can come and go whenever you want.\"\u0026nbsp; He cocked his head to one side and continued much more quietly.\u0026nbsp; \"Am I to believe you don't want that?\u0026nbsp; I don't like you, mutt, and you don't like me, but I thought it might be good for you.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nHe had me there.\u0026nbsp; I ducked my head.\u0026nbsp; \"I'm not going to apologize to you,\" I said, trying to keep my tone from making me a liar.\u0026nbsp;\n\nJake shrugged.\u0026nbsp; \"I should have given you some warning.\u0026nbsp; But my parents and your - guardians? - are probably getting worried.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nI gave a hollow laugh at his choice of noun.\u0026nbsp; \"Well, we can't have that.\"\u0026nbsp; I followed him back out of the room.\u0026nbsp;\n\nJake's parents were waiting outside with my handlers, looking very confused.\u0026nbsp; I took a deep breath and walked up to them, holding out my paw to shake.\u0026nbsp; It was my left, but with the other at the end of a cast I couldn't help that.\u0026nbsp; \"I'm very sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Altera,\" I said.\u0026nbsp; I knew my voice was clipped, but at least it was polite.\u0026nbsp; \"I didn't know Jake was your son.\u0026nbsp; It's nice to meet you.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey seemed gratified by the attempt, and each took my paw firmly.\u0026nbsp; \"It's no trouble at all, Mr. Donovan,\" Mrs. Altera said, and her husband echoed her.\u0026nbsp; \"It's nice to meet you too.\"\u0026nbsp; I nodded mutely.\u0026nbsp;\n\nThey had to sign some more paperwork before we left - I laughed quietly to myself as I considered the small mountain they'd no doubt already completed.\u0026nbsp; Then they led me to a nice minivan in the parking lot.\u0026nbsp; I sat very straight in the back - Mrs. Altera moved her chair forward to make room for my leg.\u0026nbsp; After a few minutes I tried for speech again.\u0026nbsp; \"It's very kind of you both to do this,\" I said stiltedly.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"It's our pleasure, Mr. Donovan,\" Mr. Altera answered from behind the wheel.\u0026nbsp; \"Jake told us you and he are friends from school.\"\u0026nbsp; He sounded a little uncertain about that now.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"You might say we know each other, at least,\" I said dryly, looking sideways at Jake.\u0026nbsp; Was he _blushing_?\u0026nbsp; I'd never actually seen him blush; maybe he didn't lie often.\u0026nbsp; \"But it's just Nick, please.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"All right, Nick.\"\u0026nbsp; He hesitated, then added \"You can call us Mum and Dad, if you want.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\nI froze.\u0026nbsp; \"Um, I'd actually prefer to call you by name, if that's all right,\" I said carefully.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Oh.\u0026nbsp; That's fine - my name is Dan, and this is my wife Halo.\"\u0026nbsp;\n\n\"Nice to meet you again, Dan and Halo,\" I said politely.\u0026nbsp;\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\n\\*\\*\\*\n\n\u0026nbsp;\n\nI think I liked this part.\u0026nbsp; It could definitely be made better, but still.\u0026nbsp; I hope you did too; let me know.\u0026nbsp;\n\n  \n  \n\n","series":{"name":"All\\'s Fair","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/153607-all-s-fair-part-5.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/154866-all-s-fair-part-7.json"}}