Will met Kyle outside his secondary school. He had to wait at the gates as the students steamed out. As he expected, Kyle had a rotten expression. That expression probably had something to do with him having seen Will. Will waved. "Kyle, hey."

Kyle came over, pulling his headphones off. "What are you doing here?" He practically growled.

"I'm here to see you." Will answered him. "Laragh said you two usually meet now, and she didn't mind freeing up your afternoon."

"So instead of her crap I have to listen to yours." Kyle muttered. "Whatever. Are we going all the way to shop street, or can we stop by somewhere here?"

"I thought we could visit the art gallery in the city centre." Will suggested. "It's open until half eight today. Is that something you'd be interested in?" He expected Kyle to shoot down whatever he suggested, and he could see clearly that the idea didn't make him look too pleased.

"Do you like art?" Kyle asked.

"I haven't ever taken a special interest. I did art for the junior cert, but I was pretty terrible at it." Will explained. "Seeing an art gallery could be good though."

Kyle glanced at the passing students. There was nothing but reluctance in his gaze.

"Is there something else you'd rather do?" Will questioned. "The point of the thing is to just to spend time together, right?"

Kyle blinked up at Will, for once the animosity leaving his eyes. Will wondered what he'd said to warrant it.

"Is that not the point?" Will asked, doubting himself when Kyle remained utterly silent, but didn't seem to be doing it out of spite.

"How the hell I'm supposed to know?" Kyle snapped suddenly. "The last dick-head lectured me for hours about how to live right, and be better, and be a good fucking person—the one before that would look at me like I'm an idiot and sigh. And you—" he stopped.

Will put his hands into his pockets, and faced Kyle as the outburst continued. "What did I do?" He asked, fully aware he was poking the beast. He felt as if they needed to get this part out of the way. And he felt like even if he didn't, Kyle would be giving him a mouthful.

"You just sit there smiling as if your not the exact type of guy who gives the rest of us sad lot body image issues." Kyle got out. It was a guttural sound. More growling.

Will took in a hard breath and thought it over. "I get what you mean. I'm athletic."

"Yeah. And whoever thinks it was good idea to pair you up with anyone in my group is an idiot." Kyle was talking about Laragh again.

"I look like this because I spent years staring at pictures of what an actual guy is supposed to look like." Will said suddenly, the admission leaving him before he'd really thought it out. He paused then, to consider, and found in the aftermath he wasn't really bothered. Kyle was in the program for a reason. He was like Will. "I stared and I stared, until I started starving myself."

Kyle looked up at him, his green eyes scrutinising. Will weathered the look.

"When was that?" Kyle asked.

Will cast his eyes to the remnants of students getting on buses. "Second year." Will couldn't remember a time when he didn't obsess over the differences between himself and everyone else. He certainly had during primary school, when his classmates were crushing on one another and asking each other out through notes. Maybe if he wasn't gay he wouldn't have been as preoccupied with how a guys body could actually look? Maybe that was why he spent so long staring at pictures?

"So you were twelve."

"When I started doing something about it." Will replied. "So, art gallery?"

Kyle crossed his arms. "No, that's stuffy and boring. It's not something teenagers do."

"I'm not a teenager."

"I am."

"So the workers will think you're being forced to come along with me, big deal."

"Won't your boyfriend be mad if you take me out on a date?"

Will laughed. It left him like a shot, and he covered his mouth. Kyle's cheeks went red immediately, and Will could see from the sharp look in his eyes he was angry at Will for laughing at him.

"Come on, you're way younger than me." Will said trying to kill his smile. "No way would it be a date. More like an older brother trying to culture his bratty sibling."

Kyle's eyes narrowed. Will probably shouldn't be trying to wind him up, but it happened naturally.

"So you're here to insult me."

"You don't look all that insulted." Will observed.

"I don't look angry?"

"You always look angry."

Kyle went quiet. Will suspected Kyle would keep them arguing at the gate all day when he finally stepped out onto the street.

"I want to hang out at the youth centre." Kyle told him.

"Okay." Will agreed immediately. "Where's that?"

"This way."

Will recognised the place when they were a block away, and the thought of it tightened his gut. The 'youth' centre was the one Laragh had told him about. She'd tried pushing him to go to group sessions, but Will had adamantly refused. It wasn't often he answered one of Laragh's suggestions with 'no' and he figured that was the reason she let it go so quickly. Will didn't even like thinking about having an eating disorder, talking about it with other people was low on the list of things he ever wanted to do. But bottling things up had led to a bad night with Gabriel and Dune. And he'd managed to talk to Kyle, even if it was just one sentence, so maybe it wasn't actually as terrible as Will was making it out to be in his head.

The centre was set up like a giant living room connected to a hospital. Will frowned at the desk cutting across the hallway. Past it, he could see through an open door there was a bed.

"It's a clinic too." Kyle explained to Will, apparently noticing him staring. "They keep the kids who need drips and stuff here. And the ones that try off themselves."

Will jolted. He looked sharply at Kyle, who had now screwed his lips tightly shut to glare at an approaching nurse. She had on colourful rainbow scrubs. Her name tag read 'Grace'.

"Kyle, it's lovely to see you." Grace greeted him. She had a thick Donegal accent. "And you brought a friend."

"I want to hang out with PG." Kyle declared. The fact that he didn't tell her to shove off made Will think he liked the nurse.

"She's just woken up from a nap, I'm sure she'll love the company." Grace nodded. She walked past the desk, Kyle followed her so Will went as well. He cast a glance around the room they passed through. There were a fair amount of kids in it, at least a dozen, all scattered about in the middle of different activities. There was a little bookcase in one corner, a hockey table, a tv and gaming console, plus a large table with boxes and boxes of art supplies in the middle. Will guessed that table was where Kyle spent his time here. Curious eyes followed them as they walked through the room. Will dodged eye-contact.

PG was a young girl all wrapped up in fleece blankets. Her small face peeped out from the mounds around her, and there was something comical about the visual. It appeared like a normal bedroom; there were posters and books and desks and even a keyboard propped up against the wall. Will knew nobody had a permanent bedroom in a clinic without good reason.

"Kyle." PG greeted in a small voice. Gray eyes assessed Will.

"That's Will." Kyle introduced them, "He's the loser Laragh paired me up with."

"Nice to meet you loser." PG said.

It was the first time Will heard Kyle laugh. It was a pleased sound, and he ducked his head to hide his face as he let it out. Will rolled his eyes. It was a childish jab, and he didn't mind it. "Nice to meet you to. Kyle said you're called PG?"

"Piano girl." Kyle elaborated. He threw his bag aside and plucked up the keyboard, setting it up on the bed for PG. "Play us something."

Before he'd finished the request, PG was already plucking at the keys, producing a tune. Kyle sat on the end of the bed, so Will pulled the desk chair nearer the both of them and settled himself.

"She's a prodigy." Kyle said once she'd started playing. "She's composed a load of music, assembles pieces for shows, even got a commission work to do the soundtrack for a film."

"She's like, fourteen."

"She's eighteen." Kyle corrected.

Will had to check if Kyle was yanking his chain, but those green eyes were serious. "This is like, the sixth time she tried to kill herself." Kyle nodded to the drip attached to her arm, the only thing in the room that gave away it wasn't an ordinary bedroom. "Starvation is the preferred method. And who better to deal with starvation than a clinic specialising in kids who starve themselves on a daily basis?"

Will felt a little queasy. Kyle must have seen the change in him, because he paused. "Are you going to pass out?"

"No." Maybe, Will thought.

Kyle leaned against the post on the end of the bed. "Have you ever blacked out? Happens to me a lot. Usually when I exercise."

Will was sure he had, but he couldn't remember any specific incident. "I'm pretty good about sitting down if I'm getting dizzy. I always get the black coming in on my vision, so it's never sudden. I have time to react."

"I drop like a rock." Kyle reported. "Cracked my head open on a sidewalk once."

PG stopped playing. She gave each of them a little smile, and Will couldn't imagine that she was anywhere close to eighteen. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah." Kyle replied.

Will nodded, though he'd been preoccupied more with Kyle.

"I'll play you another."

PG played, and the door opened as someone came in. The someone ruffled Kyle's hair, making the boy scowl, and then flopped out on the bed at PG's feet. It was then that Stephen glanced in Will's direction. His eyes widened. Immediately he flipped onto his stomach and turned toward him. "Well hello there." Stephen greeted.

"Why are you here?" Will asked. He didn't try hide his dislike. Their first encounter had been too awkward and confrontive for Will to pretend it hadn't happened—no matter what he told Tara.

Stephen wore a uniform of some sort; a black blazer, a tie over a white shirt, and a pair of black pants. With his hair combed to the side, he looked like a preppy school boy. But Will knew he was too old for that. He resisted the question: And what are you wearing?

Will noticed that his uniform was the same as Kyle's.

"I'm visiting, as I always do. What are you doing here, golden boy?" Stephen asked. "Come to save us?"

"I'm here with Kyle." Will was begrudged to answer him. Somehow, he suspected his answer would be made fun of in some way.

"Is Kyle your boyfriend?" Stephen asked, mirroring Kyle's remark from earlier.

Kyle smacked Stephen's stomach, and Stephen laughed.

"One of Laragh's boys." Stephen said, "I know."

"She only speaks to boys, you know." Kyle told Will. "Girls think she's too pretty so they don't want to talk to her."

"She screwed one of her clients," Stephen said. He peered up at Kyle. "Did I tell you about that?"

"Yeah."

PG's song came to an end. Stephen rolled to face her. "Wonderful, play me something modern next."

PG gave him a little smile. "Okay."

She started into the next song, a merrier tune than the last one.

"So," Stephen looked between the two of them. "How is this match up going? He tried to break my arm you know."

"He's definitely stronger than you." Kyle observed. "If he'd genuinely tried, it would be broken."

"No, no—look." Stephen pulled back his sleeve. "It's all bruised."

Will didn't want to look, but did. He could see no bruises. Stephen shot a cheeky smile his way.

"Are you related?" Will questioned.

"Cousins." Kyle answered.

PG played for them until their time was up, and they were leaving. Kyle didn't say goodbye, but this meet-up was definitely an improvement over last weeks disaster. And Will even gave Kyle his notebook back, though Kyle growled about him looking. Will assured him he hadn't.

He only had to linger a few minutes by the front door for Stephen to come out.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Will asked him.

"There was a dinner party." Stephen answered him. He didn't elaborate. "Join me for a few minutes, I'll buy you a drink."

Will only went to get more information. Because Stephen now knew that was something going on with Will. A sphere of life he didn't want connecting suddenly had a big Stephen-shaped bridge joining them; Will trusted Cassie and Dune never to talk about him, but Stephen?

They took a bus to a bar downtown. It was practically empty for seven pm, and they had the place to themselves.

"What did Tara say to you?" Stephen asked after they got two drinks. Stephen didn't ask Will what he wanted, simply ordered two vodka cokes. Will didn't have his car, so it wasn't a problem to sip on the drink. Mainly, it gave him something to do.

"About what?"

"Me. Obviously. I'm one of her favourite topics of conversation." Stephen propped his elbows on the table and looked at Will expectantly. "So? Spill the beans."

"Something about family."

Stephen's expression darkened, and Will immediately followed up. "In the context of getting me to give you a second chance, and not hating you."

Stephen rolled his eyes. "You'd hardly hate someone after meeting them once."

"When they stick their hand up your friends skirt, it's more than possible."

"I was a little drunk, and it was an accident."

"Which is what Tara was saying. Not the drunk part, the accident part. She said underneath the dick there's someone half-way decent."

Stephen snorted.

Will studied him. "Is she right?"

"Am I decent? I dunno would I make to 'half-way'. Maybe like a quarter, or a fifth way decent." Stephen answered. "I'm mostly a dick toward myself, and once all my energy is used up there, I sometimes have some decency left to show other people. Sometimes."

"Like Kyle?"

"Fuck, no. Kyle would shiv me if I tried being nice to him."

Will sighed.

Stephen grinned. "You know what I mean. And I know what you're thinking—it's obvious we're related. He's almost as fucked up as me, but, you know, there's hope for him."

The wording caught Will's attention. "And there isn't for you?"

"I'm beyond it." Stephen declared. "What about you?"

Will took a long drawl of the coke, and the glass was emptied. "I'm hoping there's hope for me."

"But you're not sure?" Stephen was waving the bar-tender and pointing toward their empty glasses. "Why?"

"I don't know."

Stephen looked curious. "What's not to know? I think we always know. Instinctively."

Know what, exactly? Will wanted to ask. If there's hope?

"It's a bit much sometimes. It's hard to know."

"What's a bit much?" Stephen pressed. He was trying to grapple an answer out of Will that he didn't have.

"I don't know."

Stephen gave him the second vodka-coke. "You know what? I think I could actually get along with you. Cheers." He clinked their glasses together.

"Jury's still out," Will answered.

Stephen grinned. "Let me know what they decide."