He was moving constantly, fretting under the grazing breeze on his skin. He couldn't find comfort in his wake, and the heat of the room, the dim lights and the silence... all of it was driving him mad. He felt his chest moving up and down and the drops of sweat traveled down his forehead and his spine. The only noise he could hear was a loud, distant pounding, located far in the background of the blackness.
Boom... Boom... Boom...
How had he gotten here? He didn't know, but there was no going back now.
The skin on skin contact made his arm hairs shudder, sending a tingling sensation all across his body. He wasn't sure how he was able to breathe, let alone stay conscious. Every feeling, every sensation that his body experimented felt too surreal, too out of this world. And her beating heart right across from his sent a pulsing wave that made him feel alive.
Her lips were rosy and full, glistening under a light that didn't exist. Inside that pitch black void that the two of them were at there was no light, no glow and no exits. And yet she managed to burn bright anyway. He could swear both her eyes and her hair were shining, alive with the color of roses, blood and sunsets.
She was so close to him, so, so close... Just inches away and they were already breathing into one another's cheeks. Connor gulped down the lump on his throat. How could he breathe? How could he stay still?
"... I thought we had rules...", he tried to say, but couldn't mutter. Not even a whisper would leave his lips. Still, he had the feeling—no, he knew that she could tell what he was thinking anyway.
"No kissing. That was your rule. You promised no kissing..."
She smirked, as if his thoughts were an open book for her to read. With her left hand she took a hold of Connor's right arm, sending something fire through his body, like she always knew how to do. Her naked body against his own wasn't enticing like usual, and he didn't feel the need to take her, like they always did. Instead, she was in control. And she had other intents.
"You'd break your own rules?", he thought desperately, "Why?"
He was able to open his mouth, but her index finger placed on top of it prevented him from trying to speak at all.
"Shhhh...", Red shushed, "Rules can be broken, bad boy..."
Her eyes were dominant and strong. They shone gold, and her mane flowed in midair as if submerged underwater. It made her look like a human torch, both beautiful and terrifying. Connor took a small eternity to take in her manifestation before him, and then, before he could muster another word or process another thought, she leaned in, close enough to make his heart stop and his breathing disappear.
Suddenly there was no noise in the world anymore.
The loud pounding was gone, and the heat on his body gone with it.
The floor he had been standing on and the wall behind his back were black matter, and even though she was right there with him, he was all alone.
The void was naked just as him, and swallowing him whole.
However, it wasn't going anywhere. Connor realized that, in that moment of complete stillness, she wasn't kissing him; she was so close, just instants away from his lips, but she wasn't touching them. He was being led on by an illusion. He didn't understand, but he feared it. He feared it so. And she seemed to notice, because a sly smirk boasting mischief displayed across her face, with her eyelashes fluttering seductively.
"... Hehehe... You're so cute when you're scared."
Connor didn't care that it was Red, or that he was at his most vulnerable. He could feel a certain rush through his body, one he was all too familiar with. A type of strength that always went at his side. He knew then he had been mistaken, and that the fire before him wasn't but a mirage.
"You don't scare me.", he thought. And at this, the apparition in front of him laughed.
"But that's a lie! You are scared, so very, very scared..."
"You are wrong", Connor thought intently, screaming inside his mind, "I'm not scared of you. I don't fear you. And I am not lying. I never lie to you..."
"... Okay. You are right. But, you are lying..."
It happened so fast.
Before he could tell, the specter had pushed him off on his chest, sending him floating back into space. She had pushed him sideways, but he felt he was falling down. And as he did, she came down with him, diving towards him from above. But she was changing. Her round and rosy cheeks paling and growing thinner, her curvy body shading and turning strong. Her eyes were pitch black for a moment, as was the rest of her silhouette, and when they were looking back at Connor, they weren't hers anymore.
His hair wasn't fire anymore; now it was brown and short, curly, and his blue eyes looked right through Connor's, deep into the blackest pitch of his soul.
And he had been right.
Connor was so, very scared.
"... You can't lie to me... And I can't scare you..."
Connor felt himself going into freefall, but Troye was once again only a few inches away from his face; their noses practically touching. He leaned in closer, opening his mouth slightly, closing his eyes, and Connor did the same.
As the two of them fell together, Connor felt a strong pump in his abdomen; a rush, a lump of something that sent him somewhere far away.
And Troye's voice right before vanishing, send a chill down his spine he thought he might never recover from.
"... Strange, but in the end... fair is fair."
---
With a voiceless gasp and drenching in sweat, Connor popped up from his lying position, certain that he had fallen to his death. Instead, he came to his own bed inside his and Mikey's bedroom, in the break of dawn. He passed both hands over his chest, arms and hair; just to make sure that he was there, and that it wasn't a dream. Upon being sure of the solidness of his body, he gave out a huge sigh of relief, closing his eyes for comfort, and allowing his body to relax.
It was then that he noticed that something was off.
Something felt... funny, but he couldn't pinpoint what. He tried moving his fingers and his toes, and everything was normal. Until he realized that, unlike every morning of his life for the past seven years, he wasn't sporting a morning hard-on.
It was then when he realized his crotch felt slightly cold.
He tentatively passed a hand over the outer layer of his boxer shorts.
Damp. Wet. Sticky.
"... Shit."
Leaving the bed and not caring if he was making too much noise that may wake up the still sleeping Mikey, he shut himself in the bathroom, and got undressed. His boxers were a mess, and most of his pelvic hair was filthy and musky.
Cursing under his breath, Connor placed his pretty much ruined pajamas into the dirty clothes basket he and Mikey shared, and hopped into the shower, praying that Grace wouldn't notice. What was he, thirteen? To get a wet dream at this time and age, he sure had to be messed up in the head. It had never been an issue to him, because he wasn't the type of person to get those. Now, of course, was an exceptional case. It bugged him that it had happened because of that.
But what really bothered him was what the wet dream was about.
Sure enough, he remembered most of it. He had been fondling with Red, but that hadn't been it. No. The climax had definitely gotten the second the shadow of Troye reached in for his lips. Even if they made no contact in the dream; the sole idea was enough to send his body into an ecstasy he couldn't control.
Connor cradled himself as the water poured over his head. With eyes closed and breathing steady, he managed to set his mind completely blank. And he remained so until he exited the shower. Of course, being the klutz he was and with the urgency of the moment, he hadn't grabbed his towel before hopping in. He waited a couple of minutes for some of the water to drip off his body, and once he decided he was decently dry enough, he opened the door and found a recently awoken Mikey sitting on his bed. The two of them exchanged looks, but didn't say anything. Like they had been doing for a while now. Connor gave thanks to the universe for that, because or else it would have made the ordeal so much more awkward, and he wasn't up for that. He quickly got his towel from the dresser and went back into the bathroom to get properly ready for the day.
And told himself over and over a thousand times that no matter what, he wouldn't bring up his dream to anyone.
---
-"... So, after making sure they have done their homework, next in schedule is group counseling, before lunch."—explained their elder, handing out the corresponding papers—"There's math, history and some English. All of it is sent from Yule elementary and middle schools, so it's all part of their study plan. You have the answers to check them later, so that shouldn't be a problem..."
-"We're allowed to help them?"—asked the tallest of the bunch, whom Connor remembered was named Kian.
-"You're not supposed to give them the answers, idiot."—said Sam, the guy with a lip piercing and large eye bags—"You must let them do their work on their own. We're just supposed to supervise."
-"Hmph. Then we're supposed to just wander around? That sounds pretty useless to me."—Kian complained, crossing his arms and titling his head, giving him the appearance of a very gangster scarecrow.
Connor saw Ricky shaking his head. For being their supervisor, he sure had a lot of patience with the counseling team that the Andrew Graham Center had assembled. As the other two kept arguing, he turned to Connor and Jc, who were still waiting for instructions.
-"You two just make sure these don't mess up."—Ricky said, giving them a grin that hinted slight annoyance—"The kids have two hours to work on their homework; if they have questions, give them advice, but not the answers."
-"Ricks I'm all for education, you know that"—Jc said in such a relaxed manner Connor suspected he had to be on something—", and I can work around with Maths and stuff, but most of this is Chinese to me. I don't remember much of it."
-"That's what Connor and Jenn are for!"—Ricky said, making Connor raise an eyebrow, before ha addressed him—"You do know most of the stuff on these papers, right Connor? After all you're the only one around here who gets a proper education."
Connor frowned his lip a little, holding the papers Ricky had handed him behind his back. He sure was supposed to know most of this stuff. But of course that wasn't the case.
-"Well... I can't do any promises."
Ricky gave a sigh of exhaustion, rubbing his temples, until he got an idea, snapping his fingers and his look of concern turning into one of relief.
-"I'll have Jenn join you guys! She should be done helping Shanna at the clinic by now. She sure has a lot more brain those two over there put together..."—he said motioning towards Kian and Sam, who had started wrestling like a pair of five year olds for reasons Connor was happy to ignore.
Community service for Connor at the Andrew Graham Center meant that he got to help his former foster home roommate Ricky and other foster kids his age that had been rescued out of juvie by the foundation around with children that were on their way to a new home, and had no other place to stay. He had already gotten acquainted to Jc, whom he had seemed to have stablished somewhat of a friendship. He already knew most of the story of how his parents, illegal citizens who traveled to the States in a quest for opportunity, ended up being forced back into their home country, leaving their son behind because he was born here and, therefore, was an American citizen. It was funny seeing how Jc seemed to have learned to cope with it. Most would have developed serious abandonment issues. But not him; there didn't have a single bad bone in his body. He didn't blame his parents for leaving him there, he was truthfully convinced that they wanted the best of him. And he was certain that he would see them again someday.
Kian was younger than Connor, but he sure didn't look like it. He was a tall, lean young man who wasn't able to sit still at any given moment. Connor could swear every time he laid eyes upon Kian, he was doing some sort of random physical activity. He caught him doing squats once. Asides from hyper, he was also very loud. People could hear him talk from miles away, and when he went about his antics it wasn't unlikely that he would get into trouble. Connor wasn't sure exactly why he had been in juvie, but he knew that his parents were both in prison from drug dealing, along his two older brothers. Kian claimed he didn't use any substance ever, but he probably got involved with the wrong people at the wrong time. And that couldn't have possibly been his fault.
Sam was quiet, reserved and moody most of the time. He had several body piercings and earrings, and almost more tattoos than what Connor could count. Asides from his attitude that rivaled Connor's, he was very smart on his feet; probably resulting from living in the streets for so long. When he wasn't making a sarcastic remark he was boasting about how he had once stolen something from some convenience store and gotten away with it. So much for a petty thief, it was sort of obvious how he had ended up in a correctional facility. He didn't seem to regret it though. If one didn't know him well, they'd even say he was proud of having spent eight months behind bars. He probably had a tattoo to prove that, too.
So much mess-up in one room, some would have found tragic. Connor didn't, he saw it more as a very merry gathering. These kids had a lot more in common with him than the airhead cheerleaders and rich uptown boys in his school. He enjoyed helping out in the center, and handling Ricky's kids, assisting in every way he could, even if it was only one day at a week. He liked to think he was even good at it. The children wouldn't disobey him like Kian or tease him like they did with Sam. Sure, they wouldn't listen to his every instruction as they did with Jc, but he was ok with what he got.
Helping out with their schoolwork was entertaining, to say the least. He sucked at geometry, but stuff such as algebra and English was more his forte. So many classes with Ms. Akana had to pay off a little somehow. The woman was a genius. Her classes were more focused on practical uses for math rather than the abstract concepts traditionally taught, and that managed to spark a slight interest in Connor for things such as financing. The children's homework wasn't anywhere near the real life classes he had seen in class, but he was glad he could be of some sort of help. Jc was good in math indeed, and the kids kept calling him for even the smallest things, and he would always go to their aid ("No, you can't simplify a subtraction!", Connor heard him call out once). Surprisingly, Kian knew his way around chemistry. Connor didn't say it aloud, but he suspected it had to do something with working around drugs. He wasn't exactly sure of what Sam was good at, but that didn't stop the brunet tattoo-covered kid from wandering around and mocking the kids who were taking too long for some reason.
Like usual, the day went by swiftly. Most of the kids finished their homework, and once they announced they were done they gathered round for group counseling hour with Shanna, the lead psychiatrist on the grounds. In the end Connor and the rest didn't really need Jenn's help, but she showed up anyway to mock them a bit. Out of all the kids that worked under Ricky, she was the only girl, as well as the youngest. It was hard to believe that she had been in juvie, since she was so sweet and bubbly most of the time. But one must never judge a book by its cover, Connor thought. Around five in the afternoon, the four teenagers were sitting around on the outside of the help center, having a laugh as they drank orange flavored box juice the nice lady at the dining hall had given them as a treat. It was a strangely hot day for October, so it was well received. They were talking about the biggest nonsense, and wouldn't mind a single bit. They had brakes every now and then, but they always acted like they didn't, and complained loudly about their demanding work.
-"Maaaaaan!"—Jc groaned, stretching his arms and legs—"I'm beat! I could sleep for ages...!"
-"I'll hold you up to that."—Connor said, taking a sip from the straw, feeling like a five year old again—"At least you don't have to wake up early tomorrow for a history test with Mr. Graceffa..."
-"HA! Dude; we wake up at six am sharp every day."—Sam explained, emphasizing his bitterness with every word—"Ricky seriously thinks we are all fitness machines like him. Not all of us have the metabolism of an Olympic athlete! Some of us are diabetic, you know..."
-"Don't play the diabetes card, Sammers."—Kian said mockingly—"That's your cheat move."
-"Go eat a dick, Kian."
-"SHHH...! Guys! Language!"—Jc said, looking around to make sure no kids were listening and sighing of relief—"Last time one of the little rascals overheard me saying the "f" word Ricky wouldn't let me hear the end of it..."
Connor laughed silently at the discussion at hand. It was fun to relax like this for a while, away from Mikey's ice law and Red's intriguing mystery all over his back. He was genuinely having a good time.
While taking another sip from his juice, Connor noticed that standing by the entrance to the clinic, trying (and failing) to casually look at their gathering without looking suspicious, was Troye. He was probably on a break as well. He wasn't staring directly at them, but he wasn't moving or doing anything either. The memory of the dream of the night before still fresh on his mind, Connor resolved to put that demon to rest. Excusing himself for a minute, he stood up and left his juice box behind, making his way to Troye. His friend was arm-crossed, resting his back against one of the walls of the entrance, doing absolutely nothing. When he saw Connor approaching, a smile appeared on his lips. Those same full lips that had almost made Connor's heart stop in the dream.
-"Hey."—Troye greeted.
-"Hey there."—Connor answered, and proceeded to cut to the chase—"You're not doing anything? Why don't you come and sit with us?"
Troye looked over Connor's shoulder, to where Sam, Kian and Jc, who was waving at Connor to go back, were sitting on the grass.
-"You sure they won't mind?"—Troye asked.
-"Why would they? Don't worry, they're cool."
Troye didn't look so convinced, but Connor gave him a reassuring smirk shrugged his shoulders.
-"They don't bite, you know."
-"I know..."—Troye said, sighing, finally displaying a smile—"Sure, why not. Let's go."
Connor got Troye to walk with him to where the rest of the guys were. The first to speak up was Kian.
-"Well look who it is! If it isn't Mr. Troye Sivan Mellet!"
-"Fancy seeing you here..."—Sam said sarcastically, with eye roll included.
-"Hey Kian. Sam, Jc..."—Troye greeted everyone.
-"Hi, Troye. Been a while."
Connor raised an eyebrow. Partly confused, but pleasantly surprised.
-"You knew each other already?"
-"Sure! Troye here has been helping out at the clinic since forever."—Kian said matter-of-factly—"Shanna sends him over to the center to lend us a hand from time to time, too."
-"Yeah, that's true."—Troye said with a slight giggle—"It's been a while since she's asked me that."
-"Well we can always use an extra pair of hands."—Jc said—"There's a lot of kids these days. Connor here is good help, but you know what they say; the more the merrier."
Connor looked at Troye's almost absent eyes. He could tell that his mind was still bothered with whatever had happened the other night, when the two of them talked at the lake. Troye was struggling, struggling to get his mind of whatever that was. After a minute of consideration, he spoke up again.
-"You know, I think I can."—Troye said—"Help out, I mean. There's not many patients lately, and I'm here all day anyway. I can share my time with the clinic and you guys."
-"That's a good idea."—Connor said, earning a grin from Troye.
-"You should talk to Ricky. He can work that out with Shanna for ya."—Jc said.
-"That won't be a problem. I can ask her myself."
That seemed to have made Troye's participation in their petite team official, and Connor was glad for that. Even if he was low-key fighting for the control of his own head with every passing second. He sat down on his previous spot, fidgeting with the zipper of his sweat shirt.
-"Well that's cool!"—Sam exclaimed once again—"Now grab a juice box and join us, you've arrived right in the middle of an important debate."
-"Really?"—Troye asked, sitting next to Connor—"What's the topic?"
-"Sam's tattoos."—Kian announced—"He wants to get one in the shape of Indonesia. Just because."
---
Troye ended up adjusting just fine with the crew, and decided to stick around and help them after all. Connor couldn't say he was surprised that everybody at the center knew him. He seemed to know his way around from all his volunteering. Every worker or patient they crossed their paths with gave him a warm hello, and asked how his family was doing. And Troye replied back just as nicely, without ever losing the smile off his face.
The kids' counseling tired them off a bit, so Ricky decided to divide them off into two different groups. Apparently a small bunch of them had their doctor checkups appointed for that afternoon, so Sam and Jenn were told to take them to the clinic. Connor, Troye, Jc and Kian were given the more rambunctious lot, and were told to make them play sports and such. At first Connor was clueless on what they could do, but then Troye came up with the idea of making them play tug of war. That's how they ended up making two teams; Kian and Connor leading one small group of children, whilst the other had Troye and Jc as figureheads. The game didn't last very long; Kian was very competitive and out of all the grown-ups he was the strongest, so his and Connor's team won pretty much from the start. There was a chubby and loud kid on their side of the game who had become his lackey, and high-fived him every time they knocked Jc and Troye's team down. It did get repetitive, so they decided to play something more organized.
Jc came up with the idea of soccer, which he insisted would be fun. Perhaps it was for him, because as it turned out, he was quite the aficionado. Connor didn't want to think it had something to do with his Latin roots, because damn stereotypes; but hell, Jc could play. It didn't take him much to coach his team into beating Connor and Kian's. Troye helped out as well, of course, playing as the goalkeeper. Kian insisted in being their team's goalkeeper himself, so Connor was left as a forward. And he sucked. It wasn't easy getting the ball from the kids, let alone from Jc. And the few times he did manage to get it and attempt scoring, Troye would catch it in mid-air, mocking Connor and laughing loudly every single time he had the chance to. Connor just scratched the back of his head every time he fucked up, and just took all of Kian's incessant complaints. He knew he had terrible aim; he just didn't think it'd be that bad. However, out of all of the fellow foster kid's scolding, all the children seemed to laugh. And that, in turn, made Troye laugh as well. So Connor thought it was alright.
Now, the group was having a little bit more free time. Kian had decided to go and get some sleep, because he had gotten drained from handling all the kids (Connor found this event a historical one). Jc said something about having to help out in the kitchen, and Sam just left, brooding and complaining under his breath like usual. Troye and Connor were left to themselves, as they walked around the grounds of the center, having small talk. Troye's mood had improved considerably since the beginning of his shift at the clinic, as Connor realized. He hadn't mentioned what happened the other night once, but Connor thought it was okay like that. Maybe it meant that whatever had happened was already forgotten.
They were having the laugh, as they reached a couple of swings by the playground made for the smaller kids. Connor sat on one, while Troye stood on the other one and started swinging himself with his legs. He looked sort of funny doing it, waddling his limbs around and all.
-"So... eh..."—Troye said between whispers, trying not to cross eyes with Connor—"I just wanted to say... you know... thanks. For today. I was feeling really low and I think that... that helping you guys out ended up helping me instead..."
Connor smiled, and gave his friend a pat on the back. He would've been lying if he said that he didn't notice before the effect that day had on Troye.
-"Don't worry about it."—Connor said with a grin—"They're a nice lot. And you're great with the kids. A natural! Much better than me."
-"Well I have some experience from the people at the clinic. But you are great with them too!"
-"Pffft. Please..."
-"Maybe you don't see it; but I do. Say, see you in school tomorrow? And perhaps we can do something on the weekend?"
-"Meh."
-"Did you really just say 'meh'?"
-"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You know I don't have any other plans anyway."
Suddenly a ringing was heard and Troye realized it was his phone. He got down from the swing, sitting on the ground, and answered it with haste.
-"Tyde?"—he asked into the phone with a concerned look on his face—"What is it? Something wrong?"
Troye's cellphone had very loud volume for once, and Connor could hear Tyde speaking, albeit a bit blurry. But he could tell that Troye's brother had said something along the lines of "why does it have to be something wrong!?". And from the look on Troye's face and his eyeroll, Connor gathered that everything was ok.
-"Yes, yes, I'm going back at six today."—Troye explained—"No, I haven't seen her in a couple of hours... well I've been busy. Doing stuff. Stuff that's not your business! Go bother mom or something... ok, talk to you later. Call of Duty when I go back? Alright, I guess, why not. Gotta go."
Connor found himself smiling sadly at Troye's conversation with his brother on the phone, which Troye noticed the minute he had hung up.
-"What's with that face?"—he asked—"Something on your mind?"
-"What? Me? Eh..."—Connor stammered.
He and Mikey were still not speaking. He knew it wasn't supposed to last forever, but what really bothered him was that it bothered him at all. He had never cared about the people whom he shared houses with. Why now? Why was he so certain that this time it'd be different? Sure, Grace had taken him and Alexis in as a stable foster mother. But that doesn't mean adoption, and things change. She might see herself forced to give them away in the future.
"This town is just another passerby", Connor told himself.
The difference was that this time, Connor didn't believe it.
He sighed heavily, and decided to go on ahead and do something smart for once. And ask for help.
-"Mikey."—Connor said, looking at the sunset beyond the trees, as Troye listened—"I found out he had gone to Lisbug-"
-"You mean Mrs. Schwartz?"
-"Sure, whatever, and well, he had gotten to her and told her that I wasn't sleeping well lately... and that was part of why she sent me here."
-"But... I don't get it."—Troye said, frowning—"Is that a bad thing?"
-"Well, no. I like it here. But, you know... Lisa reports everything to my social worker. And if I don't do well in school—or here, now that I have to come here... well problem kids like me end up being institutionalized most of the time."
Troye nodded silently, understanding what those words meant. Connor had sometimes thought about it. What it would be to be in a reformatory, like Ricky, Jc, Kian, Sam and Jenn had been.
Like Mikey had been. Even if it was for the wrong reasons.
-"I mean I had it coming, with my low grades lately and... the whole you and me fist fighting thing..."
-"Hmph."—Troye scoffed—"Aren't we just the brightest..."
-"Well, the thing is that Mikey telling on me didn't help much. I know he had the best intentions at heart, but I got mad at him and went and told him some stupid stuff... And he hasn't spoken to me since..."
Troye looked at Connor strangely. Almost as if questioning with his eyes if Connor was really admitting to being upset by such a thing. Connor was sure this was a side of him that nobody saw. At all. The sole exception was Alexis, but even she was used to Connor being worried only about her, not anyone else.
-"... I didn't know you and he were getting that close."—Troye said—"That's a good thing, isn't it?"
-"Well, yeah, I guess."—Connor answered doubtingly—"Being honest... he... he reminds me too much of... my... my little brother..."
At this, Troye perked up, much more attentive to Connor's next words. The only time he had heard Connor talk about his family was the night they shared the tent at camp, and he had found Connor's picture of his family by accident. Much to Connor's annoyance.
-"... How come?"—Troye asked.
-"... I don't know, he just does, ok? And I know it sounds stupid. He and Brandon don't even look alike. Well..."
Connor tried his best to picture his brother's face in his mind. He remembered it by memory and by heart. Every feature, every detail. He focused, and he tried to imagine how he looked like today, now that he was sixteen.
And he couldn't.
-"... Forget it."—Connor said abruptly—"This is stupid. You don't need to hear it."
-"Hey, hey don't say that. You sound upset."
-"Upset is pointless. Mikey is not my family, he gets to do as he wishes and doesn't have to affect me. I understand if he prefers to cross me out. I would cross me out."
Connor exhaled, staring up at the sky.
-"I'm not here to stay anyway."
Troye didn't say anything. He stayed silent, looking quite baffled at what he had heard. Connor didn't think it was too hard to understand. When you are moving from one place to another all the time without caring about where you might end up to, it became normal to think that way.
Connor hadn't realized just how much he had sounded like Red when he had said that.
-"... Why are you saying this stuff?"—Troye asked.
Connor didn't reply. He let the silence be his answer. What was he trying to gain, doing this? Acting this way? He didn't want Troye's pity, he would hate that. Then what was the point in telling him about this anyway?
-"... Do you want my advice?"—Troye asked from one moment to another—"Well I'll give it to you anyway, even if you don't."
Connor looked at his friend. Troye looked like he had a strong resolution, but he didn't see why. This didn't involve him at all.
-"I don't think that I know Mikey that well to know what to tell him."—Troye said—"But I think that there's one person who can help you. And I mean, that's what she is meant to do, help people. And she's supposed to be paying close attention to you, so..."
Connor raised an eyebrow.
-"You can't possibly mean Lisbug?"
-"Mrs. Schwartz."
-"She's pretty much crazy. Besides, what good does it do? If Mikey doesn't care about it, neither will I."
Troye shook his head.
-"... You do care..."—he added silently.
Not another word about that was spoken of that day.
So and so the afternoon went by, dragging along the minutes like another average day. Sooner than expected their shift was over, and both Connor and Troye were meant to go to their homes. Troye had gotten there driving in his mom's car, so Connor thought he would offer him a ride home. But he didn't. Which Connor didn't mind, really; but for some reason it made him wonder if there was something Troye was trying to hide. They said their farewells just around the time Grace arrived to pick up Connor, agreeing that Troye would help out Connor and the rest of Ricky's crew every Sunday after he was done at the clinic.
After being greeted by Grace in her car by an inviting "so you survived today!", arrival back at the house was like returning to a harsh reality now, with Alexis looking overtired most of the time, even for a Sunday, and Mikey not talking to him. The only silver lining of it all was Grace, and how dreamy and awkward and happy she looked every day due to her now very official relationship. But even with her optimistic mood, Connor found it tougher not to care about the matters at hand, especially when finding Mikey lying on his bed, still awake, but not willing to talk to Connor.
And seeing him lie there, with his back turned to him on purpose, just reminded Connor too much about a certain someone else whom Mikey held way too much resemblance to. And that make Connor ache, because he had already disappointed a lot of people in the past. But never his little brother. It was different back then, and it was different with him. and the last he knew about Brandon was that he hated Connor. And now, the person who reminded him the most of him did as well. And perhaps, that was one of the reasons why it hurt.
"No", Connor realized, "That is why it hurts."
And then, Connor made a very odd decision for himself.
He was taking Troye's advice.
---
A/N
*Places finger gently over your mouth*
Shhhhhhhhhhhh...
Don't ask how, don't ask why...
Just... take it...
*Leaves to bed because 1:35 am and needs to study early tomorrow*
--Coffee