I really wish more people knew this movie. It deserves it.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

it's getting there that's the problem…

He's not quite sure how they ended up living together.

It has to do with the fact that he's allowed back with his parents.

(Back. Just back, not home.)

Half the time he ends up in the school's boiler room anyway, which is much easier now since he's swiped a key.

He's pretty sure that Principle James—Augustine now really, since he's graduated, not that he'd ever say it to her face—knows he's around; she knows everything that happens in her school.

Nobody gets away with shit, not for lack of trying.

She's one of the good guys though and later, after he's worked off his ass cleaning her school to make up for her car, he finds out that they get along quite well.

"I take back all the things I said about you, ma'am."

She gives him one of her signature squinty-eyed glares, assessing his sincerity. He's being real with her.

She raises an eyebrow in response and says, "I don't."

And he knows he's forgiven.

Whenever possible, he stays away from the apartment, the crumbling furniture and smell of shoe polish, preferring to just slip whatever extra money he's been able to make under the door before he disappears again.

He thinks his parents like it this way better too.

Their place is the kind of hell he prays to a god he doesn't believe in to never end up living with again. Please kill him faster, less painfully, less pathetically.

It has to do with the fact that he's tired of running.

Tired of cold concrete floors and fighting the lure of easy money made out on the streets.

He tried that once and the price is just too high for him.

Nothing comes free. Except.

Because it has to do with a lot of things but, mostly, it's the pained look on Pierre's face when he sets down his briefcase and rubs his face. Voice thick, he asks:

"Why are you at school at four in the morning. On a Saturday?"

"I could ask you the same thing but I could already see," Rock answers, a slight smile breaking through the sleepy haze of panic. But really, it wasn't funny the first time either and when Pierre asks him to stay the night he can't find a reason to refuse.

And the next night and the next night and the—

Eventually his pride can't take it anymore and they agree to spill the rent.

Pierre, ever the gentleman, hates it. He takes the money with a hurt, tired face and sad brown eyes. Sometimes, Rock feels choked. Coddled.

(Mostly? He doesn't mind; its really fucking nice to know someone cares.)

It's funny how in two weeks their flat becomes what eighteen years with his parents never could.


(He stops paying rent.)

(He cooks on weekends instead.)