[Random Monday update because fffdf

Aye, shoutout to my deteriorating mental stability thanks to education system and they damn high expectations, it's been fun B.

*****Also, TRIGGER WARNING: there is, uh, bullying and the use of that darn 'F'-word, and it ain't 'fuck'.*****

Btw, BTS COMEBACK BORCHES, HhahaAA GON BE BOPPING FOR WEEKS

Enjoy the chapter. See ya around, my dudes...!]

Stay Creepy, My Friends!~

Chapter 38

Ben's POV

My exhaustion has gotten the better of me. I can't seem to gain any energy back since my fight with Ellie. All I want to do is lay in bed, but then I fear sleep. Yet I know I can't keep sitting around doing nothing, and I try my hardest to push myself to work, but it's painful on a mental level. Above this, all I really want is to see Reese again.

He leaves me these little messages in the morning before he goes to school, like: 'Good morning', 'Hope you rested', 'Hunter just burned the bacon and now Mom is scolding him in Spanish, how's your morning?'.

Also in the middle of school, during lunch. He tells me: 'There's weird stuff for lunch and idk how to feel', 'There was almost a fight today haha,' and 'I wasn't a part of it btw'.

Sometimes he'll text me during class. One time he sent me a really zoomed in photo of a lizard in his Biology class with its tongue sticking out and I laughed at that picture for like 10 minutes straight.

And at night...I think he gets sentimental. At times I'll see a paragraph of text of something that he's thinking about, and he can't talk aloud, so he texts me his ramble instead (I never knew he was so passionately awed yet creeped out by Iz Zizzle toys). Other times, he will send small messages, yet they'll mean a lot. Like the other day, he said: 'Sometimes I wish my stars still glowed. Lately I've been wishing you were around to...substitute for them.' His messages get me by, but they make my longing for him worse. So much worse...!

It's been a few days since I had to leave him, and all I can seem to think about is what happened in his room that night. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to Ao about this, but...could he have feelings for me too? The way he hugged me, and looked at me, and talked to me...I can't stop thinking about it all. And biting my ear... Licking my ear...! I wanted to just...ugh, I just had to leave or else I'd do some weird shit to him. Weirder shit than biting ears--and he did leave a mark like he wanted! He's too much for my little, ghost heart to handle. And too rude! And too undeniably charming in every single way...

Reese gets me by. He's that reward at the end of a challenge. A reward all for me. As much as I care for everyone here at the mansion, there's too much here that reminds me of dark times. Everything is so different...our group so divided...it's hard to bear at times. Despite this, I still have a duty to everyone here. If I want things to change for the better then I have to maintain my responsibilities and pull through. No matter what.

No matter what.

...

It was late evening and the mansion was mostly quiet. I was sitting at my desk with a pile of gadgets and junk splayed out across the tabletop in front of me. There's something I want to make to help Jack control that magic arm of his. For a while now he's practiced with Ms. P and Ao to tame it, and it's working...some. The other day he accidentally punched a hole through a fucking tree and now it's leaning. If he can get a handle on it, that magic can be strong. Granted, he can only punch harder than he could before (as if he needed an extra boost) and make a shield, and it's not like Ao's, but it could be strong. If I can make some sort of device to help him then that's one step closer to, I don't know, a little more success?

While I was trying to attach two wires together, they sparked brightly and I reeled back out of surprise. I waved my hand in the air since my fingers got shocked and winced. "God damn electricity," I muttered. Even though I was annoyed, I took this as a signal to take a break. I have been slaving away at making the design and getting parts the whole day. I haven't eaten, which I don't really need to, but Reese always tells me to eat, so I feel a little disappointed in myself if I don't. Then again, he tells me to try sleeping, but there's no way I would do that again. Last time was god awful.

I scoot my rolley chair away from my desk and lean back on it, hanging my head over the back of it. With a sigh, I just stare at the ceiling, trying to imagine that it was the ceiling of Reese's room with all of his faded stars. I would give him a call, but it's a school night, and he'll be asleep already. Sometimes the nighttime is my only time of peace, but it can get so lonely too. What I wouldn't give for it to be a weekend.

"Maybe I should force Grinny to live in here with me," I murmured to myself. I would also steal Smile if he wasn't with Jeff. The furry pooch is finally able to spend time with his best friend, now that said best friend is starting to open up again. That's good. That's great. I don't have to bring Jeff meals anymore, or deal with his erratic outbursts. I mean, he still has mood swings, but they're better than what he used to do. I think Smile helps. After all, pets are therapy too.

Sluggishly, I sit up right in my chair and look down at the mess on my desk. Nothing but wires, metal bits, and tools cover the surface, and my design lay off to the side, smudged with a shadow of pencil because of how much I moved my hand around and redid lines. I rub at my eye, my exhaustion still present, and psyche myself up to continue my work.

When I reached to grab my pliers...they shrunk away from me and I missed. Confused, I blinked my eyes a bunch and reached again...but the entire desk seemed to move away from me. Frustrated, I rubbed my face and shook my hands to get them energized. Again, I reached for the table, but it shrunk away from me without really moving an inch. I kept trying to process what was happening and rubbed at my eyes again. When I moved my hands out of the way, my table was gone--and so was my entire room. Instead, I found myself in...a cafeteria room?

It was bustling with students and I could smell all of the different foods they were serving from the kitchen. As loud as everything was, I was able to focus on some mathematics homework in front of me. I was too occupied by calculating that I hadn't noticed someone enthusiastically sitting themselves at my table.

"Hello there, detention friend," Adam greeted with that signature charismatic smile of his. I couldn't help but return the gesture and say, "Hey."

"You're not eating?" he questioned.

"Ah, n-no. I'm not really hungry," I said.

"You always say that."

"You...always ask at the wrong times," I countered. He just smirked and rolled his eyes.

"So, guess what?" he says, leaning forward with an eager glint in his dark eyes.

"Another gossip story?" I guessed.

"Not now, but ask me in a few minutes. I might have some on this chick Diaphone. Anyway, guess again...!"

Chuckling, I took a moment to think. With Adam, it's hard to predict what he's got to say. He's so full of surprises that these little games are difficult to get right, yet still fun.

"You've got me," I gave in, "I can't guess. What is it?"

He grinned and said, "If I recall, you're a bit of a Zelda fanboy, soooo..."

The British boy reached into his backpack and swiftly pulled out a thick, plastic game case. One look at the cover had me gaping in awe.

"That's...the new Majora's Mask...!" I commented, astonished.

"Yup! Fresh from the store shelf!" Adam beamed proudly.

"How'd you get it so quick? It was barley released a few days ago."

"I have my way with words, dear Benjamin," the Brit boasted. "And also a way with stalking the video game store until it opens..."

Marveling at his achievement, I said, "That's amazing. I heard so many good things about it too."

"Yeah, and since you like the games, I thought maybe you could come over to my place today and we could play together. Whaddya say?"

Suddenly, my happy mood dropped at the thought of his offer and how there's no way I could take it. I've never been to anyone else's house to...hang out. Dad doesn't like to let me go out sometimes unless it's late evening, but that's too late to go to Adam's. Dad may not even care to give me any permission whatsoever, and I'm too anxious of him to be persistent.

"Uh, I-I can't," I lied. "I have homework to do after school."

"You're doing it right now...," Adam remarked, pointing at my math worksheets.

I stole a glance at them and continued, "I have more homework that I need to finish."

"You can complete it all at my place. It's cool," the Brit assured me, trying to persuade me."

"S-Sorry, but I can't. I have to go home," I urged. I don't want Dad to be mad at me. I can't get him mad.

The look on Adam's face was hard to take. His smile was gone and he just sat there, staring into me with a scrutinizing gaze. Then, he sighed and tossed me the Majora's Mask game case. "I'm gonna get a meal," he said, "I'll be back."

With that, he got up from the table and headed for one of the lunch lines. While he was gone, I looked down at the game case in my hand and admired the artwork on the front. I've always been intrigued by the Zelda games. Ever since A Link to the Past came out when I was eight-years-old, I've been hooked on the heroic green hero and his journey. At one point, I was able to play the games, but...not anymore now. Still, I stay up to date as much as I can with the games and the lore. The franchise was one of those things that Adam and I had in common as we chatted over MSN. Man, I wish I could go over to his house and see him play Majora's Mask. It's the second 3D game made, and Ocarina looked impressive, from what I could see off the Internet. I really want to go...

My thoughts were interrupted when Adam came back and sat down right next to me this time. He set down his lunch tray on the table and I returned the game case to him. Suddenly, he took my math worksheets away and pushed the lunch tray in front of me. For a second, I just stared down at it, then looked up at him. Giving me a sideways glance, he said, "Eat."

"But, I'm not hungry...," I murmured.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You look like you haven't been eating at all, mate. When's the last you had a proper nosh up?"

"Um..."

"You really can't jog your brain?" he said, appalled.

"No, what's a nosh up??"

He briefly face-palmed. "A meal! When have you had a proper meal?"

"I mean, does it matter when I last ate?"

"It kinda does," the Brit responded.

Looking down at the tray, I said, "I can't take your lunch."

"Go ahead and take it, Ben."

"It's your lunch, so here," I muttered, pushing the tray towards him. He frowned down at me before sliding it back.

"Eat," he repeated more sternly.

Reluctant to do as he says, I asked him, "What about you? What will you eat?"

"Nothing," he said bluntly.

"And you're getting after me for not eating," I muttered, grabbing for the orange juice carton and opening it.

"Ey, I ate a huge batch of last night's leftover pasta for breakfast today. I think I'm peachy 'til evening."

"Pasta for breakfast...?"

He nodded, smiling. "And it was cold too."

I stopped unwrapping a little bread loaf just to grimace at him and murmur, "You're gross."

"I'm not picky, Benjamin-boyo."

"Being picky doesn't have to do with eating cold pasta. Just heat it up."

"Well, if I did that then I wouldn't weird you out like I'm doing now, now would I?" he joked, playfully pinching my chin. I pulled my head away from him to start eating my lunch. While he sat with me, he started talking to me about gossip. Typical Adam.

"So apparently Jared and Diaphone fucked in the bushes near the gym, like...just there."

"That's...weird."

"Exactly. I mean...do you think they got covered in fuckin' leaves? I would think so. Imagine the dirt...and twigs...and pesky bugs, maybe..."

"...You'd still fuck in a bush, wouldn't you?"

"Uh, if it means I can fuck, I'm knees up," he chimed.

I laughed and finished up the last of my food. As much as I protested before, I do feel better now that I've eaten. I never even realized I had a hunger headache this whole time until I ate. I should thank Adam for giving me his lunch today.

Just as I was about to speak up, there was shouting a few feet away. Adam and I looked ahead to see one male student ruthlessly punching another boy, while some others kept cheering like animals. I sat still and watched the beatdown, frozen with anxiety even though I was far away from the commotion. The kid who was getting punched tried his best to fight back, but to no avail. The punches kept coming too fast for him to stop them. It was absolutely horrible.

Eventually, teachers jumped in to break up the fight and the poor student-victim came out with a bloody face. It seemed like all of the hysteria was dying down now that both boys were separated. Feeling awkward, I looked to Adam and said, "That was...awful. What the hell could've happened...?"

"The kid getting punched is gay," Adam answered immediately. "That's what happened."

I furrowed my brow. "How can you tell?"

"I can't, but that's what I've heard from many other students," he explained. "Apparently, he... I probably shouldn't say."

Even though I know it's bad to feel curious, Adam has a way of telling all this gossip that makes me want more. Hesitantly, I asked, "What did he do?"

Adam rested his head in one hand and lowered his voice just in case. Leaning closer, he said, "He would blow other guys for money, in secret. Some of the varsity football players found out somehow, and they...set him up, I guess. Told people what they pulled. Now everyone just...doesn't like him."

"For selling himself?"

"For being gay." Adam stifled a laugh. "Ben, you're such an innocent doof. No one wouldn't be bothered if he did shit for money; some of the girls around here already do enough of that. They don't like gay people around here. Or anywhere else it seems."

"Even you..?"

Adam stopped for a second, looking at the spot where the fight just was. He sighed and answered, "It doesn't matter to me. Not my business, ya know? The only thing that bothers me is the violence. It's unnecessary. Absolutely disgusting."

"I see.."

The Brit looked at me again and asked, "Do you hate them?"

Looking into his dark eyes, I shook my head and said, "That doesn't matter to me either. I just feel bad for anyone who's beaten down and humiliated." Because I know what that's like, and school isn't the only place where I get that.

Adam finally gave me back my math worksheets after withholding them so I could eat, and stated, "You've got a heart in there, Benjamin."

"I didn't before?"

"Of course, but I'm just commenting. And it's a big heart too, especially with that small body of yours."

"Don't call me small," I whined.

"Start eating more then. We'll see," he teased me as he stood up.

Once the ending bell for lunch rang, everyone crowded at the exits to get to their classes. Adam and I lagged behind and slowly shuffled our feet as everyone gradually trickled out of the cafeteria. The dark haired Brit leaned close to me and asked, "So, do you still not want to come over?"

I widened my eyes at him and replied, "It's not that I don't want to, I just don't know if I'll be able to go."

"You don't know? I thought you had homework," he said in a convicting tone of voice.

Feeling guilty, I looked away from him and said, "Look, I don't know. Okay? Just...let me figure it out..."

After keeping his questioning gaze on me, he sighed and muttered, "Alright then. I won't bother you anymore. Your choice is your choice."

"Th-Thanks," I said, but I felt bad. Adam has a way of doing that without meaning to.

Later on, during one of my classes, I couldn't shake Adam's deal out of my head. No matter how hard I tried to work on today's agenda, my thoughts kept going back to Adam. Eventually, this became too much and I finally did something about it.

I got permission to get out of class to use the restroom, and when I got in I took out the cellphone from my pocket. Dad gave it to me but only because he recently upgraded his so I just have his hand-me-down. The phone is small, flips open, and has a little screen with a plain, blue background. Sometimes the buttons don't work and my fingers aren't nimble enough to text perfectly on the keypad. Still, it's something.

I navigated to contacts and opened up the list. Only Dad, Miss Goodwin, and Adam are on here. My hands started to shake just looking at Dad's contact. Can I do this? Can I really do this? What if he's busy? What if he's in a bad mood? And I don't want to say anything stupid either. Can I do this?

After a few moments of just standing in the corner and staring at the phone screen, I finally selected Dad's contact and called him. It took a few seconds of dial tone to get him on the line, and the first thing he said was, "What is it?"

Mortifyingly, I hesitated because I didn't know what to say. Heart racing, I quickly sputtered, "Uh, hi Dad, I just... I wanted to ask you something?"

"Make it quick. Lunch break is almost over," he said.

"O-Okay, uh," I began, spent a second to plan my words, then continued, "I have a friend who asked me if I could go to his house today...to tutor him..."

"Tutoring? Okay..."

"Can I...Can I go?"

There was a pause of silence that made my panicking heart worsen and I was coming on with a light sweat. Then, Dad's voice came through, a little irritably, and answered, "Sure, whatever."

"Ah...really??"

"Yes. You don't want to go?"

I vigorously shook my head even though he can't see me. "N-No, no, I-I want to go...!"

"Alright then. You have until eight o'clock."

"Th-Thank you so much... Um, I can get a lift home so you don't have to worry...! There's leftovers in the fridge since I can't make dinner tonight, and--."

"I got it. Quit talking."

"Y...Yes, sir...," I murmured.

After I heard him talk to someone else away from the phone, he came back and said, "My break's over now. Used it up on talking to you."

"I'm sorry."

"Can it. I've gotta go."

"Wait!" I blurted and felt an embarrassed blush color my cheeks. Taking a deep breath, I said, "This means a lot, Dad. I...I'm glad you--."

There was a short beep in my ear that let me know he had hung up. I sighed, feeling ashamed for having taken up Dad's time, but...he gave me permission to go to Adam's house. He actually gave me permission to go to someone's house. Oh my god...!

Just as I was about to send a text to Adam, someone piped up behind me, "A cellphone...! Gallagher's breaking the rules~."

Quickly, I turned to see none other than Greg Taylor and two of his friends. I noticed they sort of blocked the way out of the restroom and gulped nervously. Finding my voice, I replied, "I was just...using it really quick..."

"Who were you talking to?" one of his friends asked. "Your boyfriend?"

"I was calling my dad...," I murmured.

"So your dad is your boyfriend?" the other friend chortled, and Greg rolled his eyes.

"Hey," the first friend spoke up, "don't those Redneck-hicks do that?"

"Fuck their dads? You're callin' Gallagher a dad-fuckin' hick?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. He's already fucked up."

I didn't say a word despite how much their words stung.

Finally, Greg jumped in and said to me, "Don't mind them, Ben. They're fuckin' idiots." His friends frowned at him for a moment. Still with that beguiling smile, he came forward, ruffled my hair, and added, "Besides, no one would wanna fuck an ugly, faggot like you anyway...!" With that, he pushed my face to the side as he and his friends enjoyed a laugh.

"Listen," I spoke up, "I need to go to class before I get detention." Which I wouldn't mind since more than likely Adam will be there, but still.

Just as I side-stepped the three boys to leave the restroom, they blocked me again and Greg pushed me back. "What's the rush?" he questioned in a taunting tone, "Are we hurting your little feelings, bud?"

"Please, just let me leave...," I mumbled, but I don't think they heard me over the insults they threw at me.

Suddenly, someone cleared his throat loudly and all of us looked at who it was. My heart soared from its pathetic, quivering state the moment I laid eyes on Adam. He leaned on the sink counter, arms crossed, glaring at the three boys in front of me.

"Hey, its Churchill," Greg remarked. "What's up, man?"

"Oh, not much," Adam said with a dry tone. "Just came in here to have a pleasant piss but who would've ever guessed I'd see the Three Stooges! Thought they weren't touring this time of year."

"Very funny, Churchill," Greg muttered.

"You know what's not funny? Havin' to listen to you three banter while trying to take my piss. The restroom is a sacred place, lads. And you're fucking it up with your being here. Get out, why don't you."

"Why don't you take your little piss and be on your way?" Greg growled, stepping toward him.

"And if I don't?"

"Then--."

"Then, what?" Adam hissed, pushing off the counter and standing straight, right in front of Greg. One thing I've learned from Adam is that one perk of being British is being pretty damn tall. And Greg and his friends had nothing on Adam.

"Tell me what you--what either of you will do," Adam challenged, sneering like the devil. None of the boys answered him, so he went ahead and said, "All of you leave if you're just gonna harass Ben."

Greg stifled a wry chuckle and said, "Ah, so that's what this is about. Ben? What is he, your boyfriend? Or, more correctly, your girlfriend?"

"At least he'd make a much better and more faithful partner than you," Adam grumbled.

"Huh?"

"You don't seem to like gays but you didn't mind Justin Ford, did you?" the Brit muttered, now bearing a sinister grin. At first, I didn't see the threat in his words until I noticed Greg all tensed up and wide-eyed.

"You may think I'm some stupid, snob, Brit who doesn't know jackshit, but I know everything," he went on. "Every little bit of chitchat, I hear it. I hear it all and memorize every detail. I looove it. All the drama, the backstabbing, the quarreling, the revenge-plotting--everything! And boy would I have a blast hearing everyone talk about Greg Taylor--Mr. Perfect Boy with a loving girlfriend--getting a fuck outta Justin Ford. Maybe people will come after you like they did to him today, beat you to a bloody, miserable pulp. How delightful would that be, huh?"

Greg said nothing, while his friends held confused and uncomfortable expressions. Adam, still grinning, said, "You wouldn't want that, would you, Greg? To be crucified by the entire school? I can make it happen. Don't doubt me for a second."

"Fuck you, Churchill," Greg hissed lowly, shaking his head.

"No thanks. You're not the kind of twat I want," Adam chimed.

After a silent stare-down between the two, Greg finally left the restroom with his friends in tow. Adam didn't watch them leave and looked at me with a triumphant smile on his face. I couldn't help but smile with him and say, "That was...something."

"It certainly was."

"Thank you, detention friend," I retorted.

"No problem, other detention friend. Now, excuse me, I've been holding a piss for a while and I really need to go...!" The Brit rushed to the urinals and I covered my face, laughing at his goofiness.

As he went to wash his hands afterward, I stood next to him and said, "So...guess who's gonna be doing homework at your house..."

The Brit stopped washing his hands and looked over at me with a big smile on his face. "Aw hell fuckin' yeah, Gallagher!"

Hell fuckin' yeah, indeed.

...

Once the final bell rang for the day, I met up with Adam at the student parking section. It was easy to find him because he lounged across the hood of his car like it was a lawn chair. As soon as he saw me, he raised his hands and said, "Benjamin-boyo, you've arrived!"

"Nice car," I complimented. It was just an average car, not too flashy but nothing that looked like junk either. Efficient, I'd say, and not like those douchebag sports cars that make the drivers look, well, douchey. Besides, those things are expensive as hell and I'm sure Adam would rather spend his money on games and food.

"Hop in," he said, pointing at the passenger side. Simultaneously, we opened our respective doors and ducked inside. The scent of apples and cinnamon attacked my nostrils immediately, and as if Adam read my thoughts, he said, "My mum puts air fresheners in here. This week's menu is apples and cinnamon, hehe. You'll get used it."

He was right. In a matter of a couple of minutes, the smell was practically nonexistent. Adam drove the car with ease and I watched the different scenery move past us. Adam lived in the opposite direction of my house, in a much nicer neighborhood than my own, but it wasn't anything lavish. I was a little jarred when the car stopped on the driveway of a red-bricked house, because it wasn't my house, and this wasn't my neighborhood, and I don't even come home in a car; I walk. I'm actually visiting someone else's house.

Adam and I got out of his car and the Brit ushered me to the front door. The second he unlocked it and opened it, I was greeted by a big, floofy dog leaping on top of me. I ended up falling on my butt and succumbing to this dog's excited kisses.

When I finally pulled my face away from the dog's tongue, I said, "You never told me you had a dog..!"

"You never asked," Adam chirped. With a whistle, he called the canine off of me and it trotted in place happily in front of him.

"Ben, meet Hopper, my Bernese Mountain dog," the Brit announced proudly.

"He's...ginormous," I mumbled, wiping fur off my clothes.

"She, and yes, she's quite a biggun. She's friendly though. Too friendly, you might say. Looks like she likes you already!" Adam helped me up to my feet and patted my back playfully. "Come inside. We've got a game to play."

As soon as we walked in and I closed the door behind us, Hopper rushed to what was the kitchen and nudged a doggy bowl. Adam chuckled and remarked, "But first, food. I'm hungry too. Want anything, Ben?"

"Uh... No, I'm good," I answered as I set my backpack by the entrance.

Adam narrowed his eyes before saying, "You're eating anyway." I sighed, but didn't protest since I didn't want to be rude. Maybe I should eat.

While the Brit fed Hopper her kibble and then started making me something to eat, I took a seat at the bar and said, "So, where are your parents?"

"Mum's at work. Dad's away on a business trip," he responded instantly. He stole a glance at me and continued, "Sometimes my mum works late, so it's practically me and Hopper."

"Don't you get lonely?"

Hopper stifled a boof.

"Aside from having Hopper," I added.

"Yeah, but I've got my games, and the telly, and now you." Adam flashed me a smile and for some reason I felt a bit flustered in that moment. A minute later, he handed me a sandwich on a paper towel and said, "How about you? What do you have when you get lonely?"

I thought about it, remembering all of the times I've spent alone in my room, curled up on the floor or the bed, wishing I could cry without getting yelled at or worse. The only things that have ever made me feel okay were music, and at one point the Zelda games.

"Um, just...books, music...nothing amazing," I answered, then took a bite out of my sandwich. Even though it would've complimented Adam, I restrained a content sigh as soon as I tasted the first bite.

Once we finished up eating, Adam led me to his bedroom with Hopper close behind me. As we walked down the hallway, I gazed at the family photos on the walls. There was even one of young Adam in a bunny costume for what must've been Easter. I refrained from teasing him about it--I'll save that for later. 

As soon as Adam opened his door, Hopper slipped past us and took the whole bed (she was big enough to leave no space whatsoever). I stood by the door, scanning my eyes over his room. A few band posters on the wall, an unkempt bed with one Hopper on it, a messy desk, a closet with a basic array of clothes, and a stack of moving boxes in one corner. Adam moved at the beginning of summer break, so he's been here for a good five months, and still these boxes are left unopened. I'm not really that surprised.

Adam crouched in front of a TV that was next to his bed and opened the cabinet underneath to reveal a Nintendo 64. Memories came flooding back of a time when I saved up all of my money earned from doing chores for neighbors to buy it, only for my dad to take the money from me and I felt so defeated that I didn't try to save money again. At one point in my earlier life, I had an NES, and I was able to play all of the Zelda games that were on it. But one day Dad got angry with me and just sold it off to some other person, along with all the games I had. Now some other kid out there somewhere has my NES, one of the only things to give me comfort. Dad took everything from me and all I had done in those moments was stay silent and watch.

While Adam booted up the N64, I walked around the room and spotted something interesting in the closet. Hesitantly, I reached inside and took out a guitar case. As soon as it thumped onto the floor, Adam turned around with a questioning mien on his face. I sat on the floor with it and asked, "You play guitar?"

"Used to," he replied.

"Well, the dust on the case is telling," I commented, trying to wipe it off only to send up a small cloud and cough. "You didn't clean it off during the move? Like at all?"

"I think some of it is permanently stuck?"

Feeling brave, I opened the case and took a look at the instrument. It had honey-brown, polished wood with a darker color on the sides. As pretty as it looked, the strings sounded horrific. Even Hopper cringed at the dissonance. This thing hasn't been tuned in years.

"I actually feel sad for it," I joked. Adam rolled his eyes with a smile and replied, "Well, if you feel so bad, why don't you take it then?"

My laughter faltered at his proposal and I murmured, "Wait...really?"

"Sure. I won't miss it. My parents won't either. Take it."

Gazing in awe at the guitar, I said, "T-Thank you...!"

"Not a problem. I'm not giving you any new strings though," he remarked.

I closed up the case again and set it aside. As Adam popped in the Majora's Mask cartridge in the grey console, I sat next to him and stared at the TV. Randomly, the restroom confrontation from earlier came to mind, as well as that fight in the lunchroom, and I realized something that I hadn't before until now.

"Hey, Adam," I started, "about that whole Justin Ford drama...you seemed to know about it pretty well."

"I'm the gossip boy, I know everything about everyone. As long as people talk, I know what it is," he replied dismissively.

"Ah, well, I get that. But...I don't know, you seemed to be bothered, I guess."

"Why are you asking me this now?"

Scratching my head, I mumbled, "Uh, s-sorry. I didn't mean to--."

"How come you say 'sorry' so much, Ben?"

Feeling anxious, I just stared at his hands as they held the N64 controller and said, "Um...I... S-Sor... Ah..."

Adam sighed and set the controller down. He turned his body slightly towards me and began in a soft voice, "Okay, yeah, I have some connection to the Justin Ford drama, and that's why I'm bothered."

A part of me had a feeling, but I was still surprised. Reluctantly, I asked, "Did you...Did you...? You know..."

"No," he said with a frown. "I didn't have sex with Justin or anything. Couple of weeks ago, I found out what he was doing and met up with him at the park. He thought I wanted something, but I just gave him the money and told him to keep it. In exchange, though, I asked him why he was doing what he was doing."

"What did he tell you?" I questioned.

Adam bit his lip for a moment, furrowing his brow. "He's got a sister with a brain tumor. The surgery is bloody expensive. All they've got is their mum with a job that barely pays enough. Justin works, does side-jobs for the neighborhood, has sold anything valuable he has, and, well, has sold his body as well, so that he can help pay for the surgery. If his sister doesn't get it within the next year or so, she'll die."

Adam glanced at me and murmured, "The kid's only nine, Ben. She hasn't even finished fourth grade yet."

"Wh...Why has no one said anything about this??"

"Because they don't care that Justin's helping his dying sister. They'd rather crucify him as a disgusting gay than see he's just trying to make ends meet, albeit in a lewd way."

"B...But still..."

Hopper, as if sensing the dour mood, leaned her head over the edge of the bed and Adam gave her nose a kiss. As he scratched her head, he said, "I texted him this morning saying I'd give him more money soon, but he hasn't responded. I don't think he will. I don't think he'll talk to anyone for a while..."

"How much?"

"Just thirty. Not much considering the surgery price but it's all I can give."

I stared down at my hands, thinking about all he's said. Since I'm not associated with many people, I don't know the happenings in school. I have heard of Justin Ford though. Very little, but enough to hear he's a decent guy. Though whatever I heard about him doesn't matter. Now, he's just a kid who needs help and all everyone is doing is hating him as if he were the devil himself.

And Adam. I never knew he was so...generous. To just donate money without really knowing why at first is so bold. In the beginning, he always seemed like those kind of guys who go with the flow and don't care too much about things, except for money. Now that I know him better, he's a charitable guy hiding behind the facade of a nosey, charismatic Brit--except he still cares about money either way. He's got a heart, just like he said I had.

One glance at the guitar case at my other side was enough to get my mind racing. Excitedly, I leaped onto my knees and grabbed Adam's shoulder. "I have an idea!"

"Huh?"

"I...I'd like to help to. I don't have a lot of money...but I have my singing, and guitar playing. If I go somewhere public and play...I can earn money. Like those musicians in New York City subways, you know? Although I tend to get anxious with crowds, and the one time I performed in front of an audience it didn't go well... But I still want to try. And if I'm consistent, I could earn a lot. I wanna help you, Adam. Or help you help Justin help his sister, hehe."

For a few seconds, Adam just stared at me without a readable expression on his face. I thought maybe I'd overstepped my boundaries by being too avid or possibly taking the situation for granted. Lowering my gaze, I murmured, "I...I've never done anything good for anyone, not like you. My life isn't exactly the best and it's hard to find solace in things anymore, but I feel that if I can help someone else find that solace then that'd be enough. So...please don't think I'm trying to make myself look good or take any credit for anything, because there's nothing I'd hate more than to--."

Suddenly, Adam reeled me in under his arm and ruffled my hair. Hopper gave a gentle boof that went equally with her owner's playfulness. The both of us went falling back onto the floor where Adam hugged his arms around me and gave a melodramatic kiss to my forehead. "An angel. A damned angel! Haha!"

"I can't breathe," I croaked.

Adam let go of me and lifted himself up above me. Looking down at me with glee, he repeated in awe, "An angel..! Look at you, you're glowing!" He patted my cheek and pinched my chin, making me blush again out of embarrassment.

"You're really willing to help out?" he inquired. I nodded without a doubt in my mind.

He smiled and said, "Then consider me your manager, Benjamin-boyo! We're in this together."

I beamed up at him, my heart fluttering with joy. "Definitely...!"

Adam chuckled and got off of me. "Now, what do you say we finally get to playing this Zelda game, huh?"

For the next couple of hours, I watched Adam play Majora's Mask, and I would help him out almost every other minute (he's strangely forgetful when it comes to video game directions and objectives). It was so relaxing just sitting with him, watching him concentrate, talking to him. And Hopper was just a doll; she eventually curled up at my side with her head on my lap, and I reveled in petting her poofy fur. Everything here made me forget about all of my problems and even the inevitable moment when I'd have to leave for home. But that moment came and I almost wanted to cry.

Adam saved the game and promised me that I could come over again so we can see it unfold together. He carried the guitar case to his car while I carried my backpack, and I had to say good-bye to lovable Hopper who seemed to not want to stop nudging her head against my legs. Sadly, Adam had to put her back inside his house so that we could get into his car. While he started the engine, I told him which directions to take and he listened. Gradually, my anxiety increased as the scenery became more familiar until there it was, my house. I gulped and hoped Adam didn't hear it.

"Thanks for the ride," I told him.

"My pleasure. Have a good night, Ben," he replied.

I nodded and turned to open the passenger door, but my hand stopped and hovered over the lever. My gaze darted up at the house, where my dad is inside, possibly waiting for me with annoyance on his mind. I bit my lip, nervous about having this wonderful afternoon ruined. A part of me wanted to tell Adam to gun it for his house again and keep me there, where I could keep watching him play, and keep sitting next to him, and keep snuggling up to lovable Hopper. But something familiar inside of me kept that thought from becoming reality: fear. Because Dad is all I have and God knows I can't make it in the world by myself. I have nothing if I don't have him.

"Ben?" Adam called, concern in his tone.

Faking a smile, I responded, "Ah, sorry, I blanked out, hehe. Uh, I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight."

Before I could allow myself to hesitate any more, I opened the car door and rushed outside, carrying my stuff with me. Just like that, my perfect afternoon was over, and I'd have nowhere else to go besides my house. My feet felt like they were tied with bricks as I walked up to the front door and unlocked it with my keys. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, that was it. Absolutely no running away.

I waved goodbye to Adam before he went ahead and drove off. Quietly, I closed the door and listened in on the house. The television was on in Dad's room. He's probably just watching or he's fallen asleep. Either way, I tiptoed to my bedroom to put my backpack and new guitar away. Then I gathered clothes to change into and headed out for the bathroom. As soon as I opened the door, my father was there and I instinctively took a step back.

"H-Hi, Dad," I greeted.

He just glowered at me and asked, "When did you get home?"

"Just now, before eight, like you told me to," I answered.

"Who's this friend you tutored?"

"Oh, um, his name is Adam Churchill. He's in my grade. He's a good guy."

"Mhmmm." He sniffled and added, "So do the two of you have a thing?"

I gaped at him. "What??"

"Ya know, because I heard about that homo kid getting beat up from a coworker. Apparently the other kid is his son and he was pretty impressed."

"Impressed? With his son mercilessly beating up a student?"

"Why not? He was a fag, wasn't he?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that, but he didn't deserve to--."

"Ben," he interjected, "why can't you do something to impress me, huh?" He suddenly hiccuped and I realized what was going on. He's drunk. And now I can smell it on him--I'm practically breathing pure alcohol. I hate this stench. I hate it so much.

"Why can't you do something to make me proud, huh?" he drawled on. "You're just...here. You don't do sports, you're not some scholar. Look at you, I bet you'd break a leg just jogging--you're so weak. Just sad."

"I..."

"You're dead weight, you know. Your mother would be disappointed if she were still here, but thank god she isn't because who would want to see your pathetic ass? She may have been a bitch but she shouldn't deserve to deal with you."

"Dad..."

"And the last thing I need is for you to be a homo, understand? That's absolutely disgraceful. I'll kill you if you so much as look at a man with whore eyes."

"Y-Yes, sir...," I murmured, knowing that there was half of his mind that meant that statement.

"Don't be more of a fuck up than you already are. Now hurry up and bathe,"--a hiccup--, "I'm getting another drink..."

The drunkard sauntered off to the kitchen, muttering incoherent words to himself. I stood still for a few moments, taking in all that he told me, replaying his death threat in my head over and over. But at least he didn't hit me, right? Still, his spiteful words hurt just as bad as his fists. Fists leave bruises that will fade eventually, but his wretched words have found a cruel home in my heart and mind. They've been fermenting for years, like the beers Dad drinks, becoming more rotten and plentiful the more he belittles me. Yet all I can do is take it. Because then he won't be as mad if I were to retaliate, and life would become absolutely unbearable if that were so. His fury could scare away demons, and I'm unfortunately the only target for it.

With an aching heart, I went into the bathroom to finally bathe, hoping I could wash away my sorrow and frustration as well. Thinking about the time I spent with Adam and Hopper helped. Remembering Adam's smile set my heart at ease. The way he called me an angel calmed my churning stomach, even though deep in my mind I disagreed with him. I'm not an angel, because I'm too pathetic to do anything saintly. But I'll let him believe I am, just because he seems happy that way. Seeing Adam happy is just as good as feeling content for myself. When I'm with him, nothing else matters. I don't even matter. He's my friend, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure his happiness, no matter what the tribulations.

I need him. I need to please him. I can't let him leave; I can't drive him away. Because if I do...

I feel like I'd die.

...

When I woke up, I was on the floor, covered in a cold sweat. Disoriented, I crawled towards my bed and climbed on top with some struggle. My body released all its tension as soon as I felt the soft mattress. Daylight poured in from my windows and I could hear birds singing outside. Morning already.

When did I fall asleep? How'd it happen in the first place? I can't recall start point at all. Was I that exhausted? Now that I'm awake, I do feel lighter than I did before. I guess I did need rest, but at what cost? I feel sick from my dream. And mostly, I feel confused.

Gently, I turned over on the bed and reached for my phone which I had left on the cluttered desk. Since it's morning, I wonder if Reese left a text message. Luckily, he did:

-Morning. Hey, this sounds weird, but I dreamt about you. NOT IN A WEIRD WAY. You just...you hung out with me, and joked with me, and laughed with me, and you would hug my waist a lot. It was nice. But it made me kinda bummed out because you're gone and busy.

I laughed and felt the giddy grin on my face as I gazed lovingly at his text. Then another came in:

-I really miss you. Please take care of yourself. I don't know if you are. You don't respond to these a lot, and at times I've thought about stopping, but I couldn't bring myself to. I need to see you again.

Another:

-I'm not having a relapse, if you're worried. I just miss you.

Another...:

-I need you here with me

And another...:

-so I can make you happy.

The tears were already plentiful on my face, overflowing in fact. Why is he so sweet? What did I do to deserve him? I don't. Not at all.

Granting him the security he needed, I texted him with a smile on my face:

-You already do, my peanut butter cup.

You already do.