Team Brendon: A Burnt Child Dreads Fire
Brilliant Smiles and Barely Scraping By


"Greg said you did really well tonight."

Brendon's eyes were focused on his hands. He kicked an old fast food bag away from his feet on the car floor, and he looked up at his sister. Her face showed pride, and he smiled.

"I wish you didn't have to go to that place with me, but it works, you know? He'll just hand you the money every night... what all did you do, anyway?"

Brendon ran through a list in his head. "Just... kept the water coming, you know... cleaned the floors..."

"You were sitting in that chair every time I came back there. Must be pretty easy, eh?"

"Sure." Brendon swallowed some guilt without taking time to ask himself where it was coming from. "I guess."

"Must be a good first job for ya. You know, all the girls think you're cute."

*****

Ryan leaned back in his chair with his arms stretched behind his head. It was halfway through the morning and he still wasn't quite awake. He knew he had several weeks of this ahead of him as he'd try to snap out of his summer schedule and get used to a routine that would be slightly more normal. The rest of the day was going to be full of moments for him to yawn and hardly pay attention to anything.

The start of the new school year meant that students from three middle schools would pile into one building. They'd form an incoherent, confused freshman class, which would try to build some sort of bond although most of its constituents didn't even know each other. Ryan was glad to not be in that position again, but he was more than happy to welcome his old middle school friends to the building by means of assaulting them with friendly "stupid freshman" jokes. Some people took it a bit further than Ryan in order to stake their territory, but all Ryan had been concerned with was wrestling Spencer into a locker in a bit of fun meant to mock his peers who take things a little too seriously.

Ryan had seen Spencer plenty outside of class and the school difference didn't bother them much, but he was happy to live out the remaining three years of his high school career with Spencer and the rest of their friends. It was also no secret that he was one of the few who actually looked forward to scanning the crowds of new freshmen to pick out potential friends.

"So what's with your fascination with new kids?" Spencer placed his hands on the wall on either side of Ryan's head. "Am I just not enough for you anymore?"

Ryan lifted his knee toward Spencer's stomach but the boy knew to duck away. "Yeah, yeah... you just don't cut it anymore. A man has needs, you know."

"You dick."

"Freshman."

Spencer feigned offense and kicked Ryan's bag toward him as he started to walk away. "We doing anything tonight?"

"Uh, homework I guess."

"Yeah, what the fuck's up with that? I have a goddamn test on Friday!"

Ryan laughed and slung a supportive arm around his friend's shoulders. "Get used to it."

"It's only the first day, what is this shit?"

"You can't have that much to do."

Spencer put his bag over Ryan's shoulder but the boy leaned over to let its ridiculous weight fall to the floor. "Yeah, exactly. Every fucking subject."

"Your teachers clearly hate you." Ryan eyed up the row of buses once he exited the building and he quickly located his number. "I'll call ya later or something, probably when I get tired of--ah hell what am I saying, I'm not going to read any of that damn book tonight."

Ryan boarded his bus with the background music of his best friend walking away and calling him a slacker, but he knew that Spencer would probably accomplish just as much in the way of homework as he himself would be doing that night. He beat the main rush of kids to the bus and pretty much had his choice of seats, but he was happy to throw himself down into the seat behind the weird kid he saw in his gym class. He had seen him laughing at one point during the class, and those few seconds were enough to keep Ryan busy for the rest of the day. The boy was leaning against the side of the bus with his head back against the window, and he held a portable CD player on one raised knee while he tapped out a beat on the other. Ryan rudely looked over the seat and, with a slow, non-threatening motion, lifted the headphones off of the boy's head.

"Dude, what the hell?" The boy seemed stuck between confusion and fear, but he was reading Ryan's face for intention when he noticed a smile as Ryan held the music up to his ear.

"Sweet. Dashboard!" He shoved the plastic into the boy's open hand. "Love them."

"Yeah, probably my favorite."

"What about Further Seems Forever?"

"Oh God, of course!"

The smile on the boy's face was rather endearing and Ryan instantly loved his excitement over the simple questions. "You're in my gym class, right?" Ryan remembered him as the kid who seemed to like running as much as he did, because he could recall being near him while they barely kept up a slight jog in the back of the line.

"Yeah, I remember you."

There was also the smile, which was etched into Ryan's memory, and he was thrilled to see it again. "You know Spencer Smith?"

The boy seemed to search his mind for a second. "Don't think so."

"Mmm. Well shit, you're on my bus; what school did you go to?"

"Oh, I kind of live in the middle of nowhere, and I was right over the cutoff to go to Creek River."

Ryan laughed, but the boy didn't give him a chance to bring up the longstanding joke on his own.

"I know, I know. The school that can't make up it's fucking mind and decide what it wants to be named after."

"There isn't even any water around that place, is there? And fuck I'm trying to figure out how I've never seen you around before or whatever." Ryan kept looking over the seat, but he started to dig around his bag for some paper.

"Uh, there's a ditch along the side for the runoff if it rains or whatever. But yeah, I used to live in Eastridge, so that's probably why. We moved here last summer so I was only at Creek River... Lake Ocean, whatever you want to call it, for a year."

"Ha, I always wondered if you guys made fun of yourselves, or if it was just everyone at my school ripping on you all the time."

"Oh we had fun with it." With a smile, the boy quickly put the music back up to his ears, and Ryan wondered if he would turn out to be the kind of kid who couldn't go without it for more than five minutes.

Ryan sat back in his seat and decided to write his phone number on the top half of the paper, along with some nonsense. In the end, he had written "HI I'M RYAN LET'S BE FRIENDS!!1!!111!!" complete with capital letters, numbers, and a picture of a tree shouting instructions of "call meeeee!" As Ryan saw it, if his stupidity didn't scare the boy away, they'd get along quite well.

The paper was passed through the gap between the seat and the wall, and the boy took it presumably when it was shoved into his face. About a minute later, the bottom half of the paper hit Ryan in the head in the form of a ball over the top of the seat. When he unfolded it, he read the message of "Sure, why the hell not? But only because you have nice hair. Fuck your hair up, and I'll never talk to you again. I am not shallow; I am Brendon" along with the boy's phone number, about twenty little hearts and stars, and what appeared to be a drawing of a pony. Ryan was happy to have found someone who would fit in flawlessly with himself and Spencer.

*****

Brendon pulled the screen door until it quietly clicked into place. His bus stop was a good few minutes walk from where he lived and by the time he got inside, he was ready to strip out of his shirt and use it to soak some sweat off of his face and neck. Three cats swarmed at his feet and their fur stuck to his warm legs while he bent down to scratch a chin and feel the soft rumble of a purring throat. He saw that his mom forgot to feed the cats when she came home from work that morning, so he threw his shirt over a chair and took it upon himself to dump some food into a bowl to get the cats away from his legs.

His mom didn't like to leave the place opened up while she was asleep and nobody was home. Of course, Brendon figured, with the heat how it was there really wasn't much of a reason to open any windows. His only justification was that open windows would help stop the place from smelling like a combination of whatever their last couple meals happened to be. A trip down the narrow hallway told him that his sister was at work at her weekday job. He opened the window in his tiny bedroom and contemplated crashing down on his mattress, but he knew that the living room floor would be a cooler option. He was glad to have a ceiling fan in the living room, even if it did wobble a little, but it didn't cancel out the fact that he could hear his neighbor's air conditioning unit running at full blast just next door.

There was never anything Brendon could really do. With the hours that his mother worked, she was always in bed about two hours before he'd get home from school, and he'd have to stay quiet. Not that there was anything on television without cable, or anything enjoyable to do in such awful heat. The summer was worse without even school to keep him occupied. The pain of the summer was just worsened by the number of nights he'd have to spend at work. Brendon didn't necessarily like school, but he welcomed it as an excuse to stay busy and cut work down to almost entirely just weekends.

From the first day that everything started months before, Brendon had been keeping a running countdown in his head: there were only 1,317 days until he'd be eighteen years old.

*****

Ryan was having a hard time hiding the fact that he may have been a little disappointed in the lack of phone calls. Until he got on the bus, he figured that his personality had in fact scared Brendon away the day before, and the kid had just been nice enough to play along. Ryan was used to that; some people liked him, many did not, and he didn't waste his time on people who couldn't appreciate his sense of humor. He just saw Brendon differently and he had hoped he could have been right about the goofy kid.

Ryan was well on his way to being a brooding teenager with a sore ego for the rest of the day when a sandaled foot darted out in front of him in the isle of the bus. He caught himself and managed to only stumble forward, and he saw Brendon's face--Brendon's stupid, grinning face--staring at him like a chocolate covered four year old denying any involvement with ice cream. He greeted Brendon with a couple mumbled words and sat down next to him. The bus was nearly full and he didn't feel like searching around.

"So what's up? Something wrong?"

"Uh, it's morning. I'm not in bed. Lots is wrong, I guess."

Brendon laughed at Ryan's inability to use proper sentences and stuck his CD player inside his bag.

"Hey, you didn't call last night."

"Yeah you didn't call me either."

Ryan started to blush and he quickly moved his hands to rub his face.

"But yeah, I wanted to, but my mom was asleep until nine and by then I didn't know if it was too late for you or not."

Ryan shook his head. "Nah, it's my cell number. Call it whenever. Why was she asleep?"

"She works nights. She's in bed by one or so and she gets up around eight or nine at night."

"So I guess it's good I didn't call and wake her up, then?"

"You could have called me."

Ryan smirked. "Oh I see... I have to do all the work. I'll even come answer the phone for you."

Brendon was the one blushing this time and his grin didn't hide it very well, so he turned his face toward the window.

"Oookaaay, wow this is awkward." Ryan wiped his hands on his thighs. "So, um. How are you this morning?"

"I'm good. Good. Tired."

Ryan lifted his knees and pressed them against the seat in front of him so he could sink down a little bit. "Not enough sleep?"

"Not really. It's so fucking hot in my room. I can hardly breathe, let alone sleep."

"Ah. No A/C or anything? Fans, or...?"

"Nah, we're too poor." Brendon chuckled and shoved his bag down to the floor to make the seat less crowded. "Uh not gonna lie, I basically lay there naked and just hope I don't drown in my own sweat."

Ryan's eyes widened as he laughed shyly toward his lap.

"Yeah, you were talking about awkward. How's that for ya?"

"Dude, you need to meet Spencer."

"Why?"

"You're perfect for us."

"Uh I don't know if you can adopt me or anything..."

Ryan laughed and rubbed his face again. He was finally realizing that he needed to keep his mouth shut to avoid humiliating himself any further. He never expected Brendon to be so happy to fight sarcasm with sarcasm and be so willing to smile at everything, and he wasn't used to needing to play his own game.

"Fuck, how many shades of red do you have in you? I've seen like eight of 'em so far." Brendon stood up when the bus rolled to a stop beside the school, and he stepped over Ryan's legs while ruffling a hand through Ryan's hair. "Don't worry; I think I have about fifteen shades, myself. You'll pull them all out of me eventually."

*****

"You like him."

"Fuck you."

Unthreatened, Spencer laughed and kept his excited voice quiet. "You totally like him."

"Dude, I don't give you shit whenever you check out some random chick. I don't see a girlfriend around you at all."

"Yeah, but I see your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"No, I mean I see him. Over there."

Ryan sighed and looked in the direction of Spencer's nod. Brendon was oblivious to Ryan's presence down the hall and he was hovering around a drinking fountain, laughing with a couple friends. Ryan tried to hide his embarrassing grin by throwing his locker open and digging for the handle of his gym bag.

"Yeah, I don't really know him, but I think he's in like three of my classes."

"No shit? Which ones?"

"Uh, he was in freshman lit this morning... pretty sure he was in my algebra and chem class yesterday, so yeah."

Ryan shoved his books onto a shelf and threw his gym bag over his shoulder. "Okay, that's... really not fair." He had to chuckle at himself and his sudden jealousy. Spencer rolled his eyes, and Ryan wrinkled his nose and slammed the locker shut.

"But you fail to remember. You have gym with the guy."

"Yeah, and you have three classes with him."

"But you have gym. Gym, Ryan. Hell I even see the benefits of this."

Ryan leaned against the wall and shot his eyes toward a clock before looking down at the floor. "Oh, fuck..."

Spencer laughed at his friend's smile. "Yeah, you need tips from a straight kid. Great. Are you retarded?"

"Clearly."

Spencer lifted a hand and gently patted Ryan on the head. "I can't believe you haven't realized you'll be in the locker room with him."

Ryan started walking and raised his voice so Spencer could hear him while trying to catch up. "You do know I'm dropping out, right? I don't even need a tenth grade education, anyway."

"Huh?"

"Dude, locker room? Gym? I can't take that. I'll die." Ryan threw his hands up and ended up scratching his head vigorously. "I'll explode and die and you'll find me splattered all over the walls because fuck, him. He exists and I can't take that!"

"Ha!" Spencer grabbed Ryan's arm and made him swing around, and he lowered his voice. "Dude I fucking told you! You like the shit out of that kid and I'm going to harass you relentlessly until you make something of it, because God help me if I have to live with you going on and on about him and doing nothing about it."

Ryan smiled widely and leaned in closer to his friend, whispering. "It's his fucking smile, Spence. I can't help it. It kills me."

*****

Nobody ever used the locker room showers. Outside of student athletes needing them during practice and events, they remained untouched, and Ryan was very grateful for this fact for the sake of every ounce of composure that he needed to maintain. A main stretch of hallway dead ended into the neglected shower room, and small isles of lockers and benches branched off the main walkway. There were roughly enough isles for each boy in the class to have his own semi-private area for changing and Ryan had used it to his advantage the day before. This time, however, Ryan called himself an idiot for each step he took down the hall and he questioned his sanity with each isle that he blatantly looked down. Subtlety was never his biggest talent.

Brendon was shirtless at the end of the bench in the last row of lockers. He was clad in gym shorts and his back faced the isle while he tended to his shoelaces, and Ryan hesitated for a second. He had every opportunity to turn around and claim his own bench elsewhere, and he knew he would have if he had any self control whatsoever. He watched the floor as he sat his bag down gently as if he was laying it out on the line along with everything else.

Brendon's head shot around and it wasn't even a second before he smiled. He uttered a quiet but cheerful "hey" before he flung his shirt over his head and tugged at the bottom edge to keep it down.

"Hey."

Brendon chuckled at Ryan's apparent cluelessness as the lanky boy clutched the handle of his bag and became a staring statue in the middle of the isle. He pushed his own things to the floor and smacked the seat next to him. "Sit or something; you're creeping me out." He leaned forward again and started to tie his other shoe.

"Ah, yeah... sorry. Sorry." Ryan held his breath while he boldly took Brendon's advice on where to sit. It wasn't until he was sitting down that he remembered he eventually had to change his clothes.

"So." Brendon sat up and leaned forward on his elbows. "What's up?"

Ryan shrugged. "Not much. Hey, I can go somewhere else, if ya..."

Brendon grinned and shifted his eyes before looking back at Ryan "No, why would I care?"

"Just... I don't know, checking." Ryan held his breath again while he pulled his shirt over his head. "You have classes with Spencer, I heard."

"Yeah he threw paper at me in Lit this morning."

Ryan laughed. "Doing his job well, I see." He was pretty sure he was blatantly undressing completely before putting any of his gym clothes on, but when the realization hit him, he decided that he at least needed to sit back down.

"He's funny." Brendon's eyes scanned Ryan's arms. "How do you know him, anyway?"

"Oh, we've been friends. You know, just... since we were kids."

"Oh. Friends, then?"

Ryan nodded and hid laughter caused by the complete awkwardness that had just left Brendon's mouth, but nervousness hit him suddenly. "Yeah... God, yeah, he's pretty much my brother, I mean... love the kid, but you can only love him so much, ya know?"

Brendon ended the almost painful exchange with some nervous laughter of his own. By the time class was over, Ryan had concluded that never in his life had he tripped over his own two feet so many times within forty minutes. Neither boy had ever caught someone else's smile so many times at any other point in their lives.

*****

Brendon pushed the bed sheet away to get through to his side of the room. It hung from the ceiling in the small room that he shared with his sister, who had graciously given him custody of the hole in the wall that was supposed to look like a closet. He wouldn't have needed to get a clean pair of shorts had he been paying attention to anything other than Ryan, but while they talked and walked toward the bus, Brendon literally fell victim to an uneven sidewalk. Blood from his knee decorated the bottom edge of his scuffed shorts and while he wasn't going to call the clothing a total loss, he at least wanted to wear something clean.

The wound stung and Brendon knew he'd be limping for a while, but all he could do was laugh at himself. He had known worse pain before. He dabbed it with a wet rag and wiped the blood that had trickled a couple inches down his shin. Brendon couldn't get over the concern Ryan had shown. He had concealed the bit of fear that sprung up in his chest when Ryan immediately grabbed him at his sides, just under his arms, and pulled him up to his feet. He hadn't expected to be grabbed, but his fear dissipated when Ryan started sounding like his mother. When they were seated safely on the bus, Ryan examined Brendon's hands and tried his best to dust off whatever dirt was scraped into them when he caught himself. Brendon nearly expected Ryan to cry when he noticed the carnage that was his knee, and despite several instances of "I'm fine, seriously," Brendon still had to fight off Ryan's attempts to get him to go to his house for some first aid. Brendon was afraid that Ryan's extreme concern would result in a cast that would run up to his thigh; possibly a neck brace, for good measure; so he decided it would be best to go to his own home.

Brendon grabbed the paper with Ryan's number from beside his mattress. He knew Ryan would want an update and confirmation that he hadn't in fact needed to get his leg amputated, but his intention to call wasn't completely selfless. Brendon couldn't remember ever feeling as good and worthwhile as he did when Ryan's hand crossed his leg slightly and rubbed the inside of his knee until he had to go home.

"Hey guess what?"

"Are you okay?"

"My leg was able to be saved, and they think I'll be able to walk again with the proper equipment."

Ryan laughed and flopped down on his bed. "And what might that be?"

"You. I'm gonna need to hop on one leg for the rest of my life and I'll need you for balance."

"Aw, I was hoping you'd say stilts. I'd love to see that; your only option for walking being stilts."

Brendon laughed and pushed his hair off of his forehead. He was laying on the living room floor and the fan helped to get some of the sweat off of his face. "That might not work out too well for ya, though. I'd eventually learn how to run with them and I'd be able to outrun you easily."

"Yeah but would you really run away?"

Brendon laughed again and made an effort to keep it quiet. "Probably not, but we can pretend."

*****

Brendon still felt a little too awkward to turn his music off, but when Ryan slid into the seat, he stopped pressing himself against the side of the bus as he had been the whole morning. Their smiles collided while Ryan positioned his bag on his lap. Brendon seemed to be glowing slightly and it made Ryan happy.

"You." Ryan lifted a hand and pushed the headphones down to Brendon's neck. "Sleep well last night?"

Brendon nodded, still grinning. "Wasn't as hot as it has been, I guess."

"Yeah." Ryan focused on Brendon's hands. He was picking at his fingernails and nervously cracking his knuckles, and Ryan didn't want any of that. "Hey, can I have that?"

Brendon looked across his lap, confused. "What?"

"This." Given the previous night's conversation and all of its flirtatious, awkward ramblings, Ryan wasn't too afraid to grab Brendon's hand.

Brendon's only response was a grin toward the window when he felt Ryan's fingers between his own. Sometimes he didn't want this. Sometimes his futile defenses would go up if anyone held any part of him, and sometimes the fear would take over and make him give in. Ryan seemed to care, though, and Brendon didn't feel like he was taking any chances. He felt like he had a say in the matter and he liked the safe sensation that everything was making Ryan feel the same way.

*****

"No, come on... I can get my dad to come get you or something, and he can take you home later. Or you can just come home with me for a while. It doesn't have to be all night or anything and you can get to work."

"I can't, though."

"We could even drop you off at work."

"Ryan, I can't."

Ryan let himself fall down to the bench and he wiped his gym shirt across his face, speaking through it. "Why, though? I just want... fuck," Ryan stood up and sighed angrily. "I just wanna hang out or some shit. Why can't we just do something?"

"I'm not saying we can't. I'm saying it can't happen tonight."

"Why can't I even see where you live? You said you don't work 'til later."

"Yeah but I'd like to see my mom before she leaves."

"You said she wakes up at nine, though. We'd have about six hours to do shit before that."

"Ryan, just... how about tomorrow? During the day sometime, 'cause I'll need to work tomorrow night... I can have my sister drop me off at your place sometime tomorrow."

"I just don't see what the big deal is." Ryan's frustrated disappointment was evident in his voice. He was unaware that he was starting to sound like a toddler on the verge of a meltdown, complete with a slight unintentional pout.

"Me either. Look, tonight's gonna suck at work, and that'll make me love seeing you tomorrow." Brendon let out a stressed chuckle in order to try to calm his nerves. "I can't be your only friend; you shouldn't be too bored tonight."

"Why will work suck so much?"

Brendon adjusted the strap over his shoulder and wrapped his arms around his books. "It always does. It's work."

"Aren't you fourteen? I don't even have a job and I just turned fifteen."

"Yeah but my sister works there." Brendon paused to glance over the words in his head. "It's all kinda under the table for me. I go there with her on some nights and help out; nothing I had to apply for or anything."

"Where is it?"

"Just some bar."

Ryan's head twitched back in half surprise and half disbelief. "A bar? They let you in there?"

"Well, yeah... I just kinda stay in the back and help out. When she's done, our boss just hands me some money and that's that. It's no big deal."

"If it's nothing official, why can't you just say you won't be there tonight?"

Brendon found himself put on the spot. He hadn't thought this far into any potential conversation, and he was starting to kick himself for it. "That doesn't matter; I need the money. Like I said the other day; we're poor, and I like having money to do stuff." Brendon leaned sideways to quickly nudge Ryan as they walked. It was an easy way to stop him from asking anything further. "And if you want to hang out this weekend, it might be good if I had some money to do something."

Ryan grinned and nudged Brendon in return, except he used the back of his hand lightly against Brendon's forearm. "You don't need money; it's not a proper date if you have to pay for yourself."

"Hey, who said I'd let you be the one who pays?"

Ryan sighed and tried to act annoyed despite his beaming smile.

"Freshman."

*****

Brendon didn't like the familiar nervous tingle that would always dance around the lower three-fourths of his body. "Hey Liss, you about ready?"

"Yeah, yeah... just go wait in the car. Be out in a sec."

His sister's voice was cheerful and his mother's goodbye hug still hung over his body two hours after the fact. He didn't want to let go of it. He had to, though, because mental preparation couldn't kick in unless he rid himself of all feeling.

The inside of his sister's Buick was warm and stuffy, and it was better for Brendon to just leave the door open while he waited. He saw their bedroom light go off and he laid his head back on the headrest. Inhaling deeply calmed his nerves just a little, but it also helped his stomach feel even sicker.

Brendon couldn't win either way.

"So." Alyssa sat down quickly and her keys were clanging together while she started the car. "How's high school, old man?"

Brendon forced a small smile. "Whatever, it's alright I guess."

"Sorry I haven't been around much this week." Alyssa laughed and winked at her brother. "How many dudes beat the shit out of you so far?"

"None; thanks for caring."

"Hey, you know I'm just givin' you shit, B. I feel bad for not being there to lay around and talk when you get home."

"I know; it's alright... I just fall asleep when I get home, anyway."

"Well you know you can have friends over or whatever, as long as you're quiet. Mom's fine with it."

Brendon shrugged. "Nobody wants to see our place, Liss. It's shitty and hot and I'm not bringing anyone over."

Alyssa sighed and shook her head. "I'm not arguing about that again; you know it could be worse because it was worse where we used to live." She noticed her brother starting to shift down into his seat and she knew the mood had to be lightened. "So do you have your first high school crush yet? Because I totally need to hear about it."

"Yes I do and no you don't."

"Oh my God, Brendon!" Even in the dark, Alyssa could see Brendon's obnoxious, defiant smirk, and she could tell it was the first glimpse of honest excitement that she had seen in him in a while. "Come on, you can't leave me out like this!"

"Watch me."

"You're such a brat. I'm grounding your ass!"

Brendon raised a middle finger and offered a more vibrant yet still obnoxious grin. "You're not Mom, sorry to say."

"But you have to tell me about it! A name, at least. Just a name!"

"Nope."

"Brendon! I haven't been in school for three years and I never even went to your school! Like I'm gonna even know; you have to tell me!"

"Starts with R. That's all you're getting."

"Ugh, Brendon!"

"Nope." Brendon started to try to collect himself when the pink neon sign came into view. More deep breaths. "I mean, if anything comes of it, whatever... just not now."

"Please?"

"Liss, just... no. Please."

Alyssa laughed quietly but decided not to push the matter any further. Her brother seemed tired.

Brendon slid down in his seat a little more instead of sitting up in preparation for getting out of the car. He didn't want to be out for longer than he needed to be.

Once they were inside, Alyssa ruffled her brother's hair as she usually did, before telling him to stay out of trouble. He always wanted to tell her he would if he could, but just like he didn't have the option, he also didn't have the ability to talk. His mouth was too dry and his throat was always on the verge of letting go of a whimper.

"Be good, B. I'll see you later."

Brendon watched his sister slip into a pair of disgustingly high heels and walk away as if she was barefoot. She was too used to this, he thought. But then again, so was he. They had resorted to this too long ago for it all to still seem so wrong. Brendon was happy for his sister; she had somehow managed to remain oblivious the entire time. Even with her being older, he still wanted to protect her. She always talked about what a great boss Greg was.

"Brendon," Greg laid a strong hand on Brendon's shoulder. His thumb came to rest on Brendon's collarbone and he started to graze the length of it, but he stopped. "How's school treatin' ya?"

Brendon knew what to do. He smiled, and it was as innocent and childlike as he could manage. He cleared the emotion from his throat and tossed in some pretend excitement for good measure. It could be worth a few dollars in the end. "Pretty good, but it's school."

A nervous chuckle left Greg's throat, but it wasn't like Ryan's embarrassed, nervous laughs. It didn't make Brendon feel important or loved. "I'll miss you during the weeks, though, even though we're not as busy. We'll just have to make it up on the weekends, won't we?"

Brendon didn't start crying. He had finally reached his state of situational numbness for the evening. All he let himself focus on was a simple number: he'd be eighteen in only 1,313 days, and the thought of that steadily shrinking number was what let him get by every night. He always wanted to try to see the good side of things. The future held Ryan, and no matter what, the present would become the past if Brendon could just get by.

*****

Brendon decided to relax on a metal park bench while he waited for Ryan. He didn't know what kind of car Ryan's dad drove and he was sick of getting nervous every time he saw a vehicle turn into the parking lot, even though not many people were heading to the pool quite so early on a Saturday morning. The metal was protected from the sun by several large trees that were in the vicinity, which also helped to take some of the sting out of the heat. He laid his head down on his towel and turned onto his side, his back resting against the back of the bench and his arms wrapped snugly around his body.

He looked forward to Ryan. The night before, as well as that morning, all he did was look forward to Ryan. What he didn't look forward to was the unexpected phone call as soon as the clock struck nine. Ryan's voice felt safe in his ear, but after only four hours of sleep that followed a bad night, it was bittersweet. Ryan hadn't wanted to call too late and risk Brendon's mom being home and waking up, and he was afraid that waiting too late would sacrifice some of the time they could spend together.

Brendon was barely awake when Ryan approached the bench. He crouched down and put a hand on top of Brendon's head. "Hey... awake?"

"Eh, yeah. Sorry." Brendon's face contorted slightly. He stretched his arms out in front of himself to move his muscles a bit and Ryan leaned over, nonchalantly letting Brendon's arm slide across his lips.

"Hey there."

"Hey." Brendon grinned and rubbed his eyes. "It's hot out here."

"Really? Shit, maybe that's why we're here. I couldn't figure out why I came here."

Brendon laughed and accepted Ryan's outstretched hands to get himself to his feet. They stepped away from the bench and their hands lingered together for at least four or five steps.

Ryan tossed some money onto the counter for the both of them and they proceeded to the men's restroom, which had a doorway to the pool on the other side. He threw his towel and shirt down and squeezed some sunblock into his hand before handing the bottle to Brendon. "Would you mind getting my back for me?"

Brendon nodded while Ryan pretended to not notice his mouth drop open slightly.

"Will you need any of this or are you good?"

"I... didn't think to bring any, so yeah I guess." Brendon's hands were light and nervous on Ryan's back. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he went over Ryan's shoulders and then down onto his upper arms, even though it was a bit more than the "could you get my back" that Ryan had requested. Ryan's smile in the mirror told Brendon that it wasn't much of an inconvenience.

Ryan calmly switched places with Brendon and he got a handful of lotion while the boy shed his shirt. "You ready?"

Brendon had his eyes closed, but he opened them and looked at Ryan's reflection in the mirror. "Yeah, I... why?"

Ryan grinned and looked away. "I don't know; it just felt weird to not ask before, uh... rubbing my hands all over you?"

Brendon laughed. The honest sound felt good and refreshing in his throat. "Thanks, really... but yeah, go ahead."

Brendon instinctively flinched when Ryan's thin hands touched his skin. The twitch made Ryan pull away momentarily and he caught Brendon's face in the mirror. A small, apologetic smile brushed Brendon's lips and his eyes closed again. Without comment, Ryan continued.

Brendon's skin was pale and flawless to the touch. It felt vulnerable and Ryan almost felt bad for touching it so much, but Brendon's face looked so relaxed in the mirror and Ryan wanted to make it last. "Hey Bren... uh, I can call you that, right?"

Brendon nodded.

"Okay, hey..." Ryan's voice was soft and close to Brendon's ear. "Bren... what happened to your back?" His hands stopped moving. One sat on the boy's shoulder and the other fell into place on his hip. Ryan's thumb stayed vertical and gently dusted over a deep bruise on the otherwise pale, clean skin.

"Oh. There are these kids on either side of me... like, their houses, I mean. Like three in each family, and they really like me for some reason."

Ryan couldn't blame them. He resumed rubbing, this time focusing on Brendon's shoulders. "What did they do?"

"Oh, they just like to play with me. Or on me, I guess. They're all, I don't know, under ten I think. They don't try to hurt me but they play this stupid game where they're all going crazy and I don't know, I guess I just bruise easily."

"Yeah, your skin's... really soft."

Brendon didn't want to get nervous. He felt like he was taking a risk when he lifted his eyes toward the mirror, but he felt safe again when he saw innocent happiness and carefulness dripping off of Ryan's face and it made him feel okay. Ryan's hands were gentle and even more so were his smile and his way of asking for permission. Brendon wasn't used to that.

"God, Bren, are your shoulders made of concrete?"

"Huh?"

"Your neck and shoulders, the muscles here..." Ryan squeezed a little harder than he had been. "I didn't know someone could be so tense; doesn't this hurt?"

"Yeah, I'm used to it hurting really bad, though."

Oddly, Ryan felt like he was getting his feelings hurt and he had no idea why. "What causes this?"

"I don't know; it's like this most of the time. It's like all the stress goes right to my shoulders and I can't really fix it."

Ryan continued to rub gently but with enough force to try to massage some of the tension away. "Well, does this feel good?"

Brendon nodded. Ryan had no idea. Brendon hadn't felt anything like it before.

"Hey, there's... I don't know why a kid your age... or our age, rather, could have so much fucking stress, because this is terrible... but hey, turn around..." Ryan used his hands to lightly spin Brendon around. The boy's eyes caught his own, and he smiled while he rubbed with his thumbs on the sides of Brendon's neck. "Just try to let it go for a little bit, okay?"

Brendon nodded and wished he could tell Ryan everything.

"Whatever it is, it'll be okay." Ryan moved on to spread more lotion on Brendon's entire arm, and he spoke quietly, almost has if he were ashamed. "I'm here for ya, okay?"

"Thanks." Brendon's smile was evident in his small voice.

Ryan piled a little more lotion in his hand and he laid his palm against Brendon's chest. It was easy to do if he didn't think about it. His problem was, though, that he did think about it. All he could focus on was how the front of Brendon was just as flawless as the back. It was soft and Ryan once again felt bad for touching him, but Brendon's embarrassed smile made everything worthwhile. "Well, I don't know about you, but I just realized that you could get this yourself."

Brendon giggled. "Yeah, well, probably."

"You can, um. Take over if you want."

Brendon shook his head and lifted his still uncovered arm. He was surprised for a number of reasons; mainly because he was actually enjoying the touch, but also because Ryan was being so gentle. "It feels nice; you're fine."

Ryan was careful to be gentle over the few small bruises that lined the skin above Brendon's hipbone. Both boys were smiling but neither could make eye contact for fear of somehow making everything stop. "It alright if I get your face, then?"

"Of course."

Ryan felt a tingle in his chest as Brendon closed his eyes and lifted his head. He felt like he was violating the boy by running his fingers over the skin of his face, and Ryan had no idea that his thoughts were the same as Brendon's; neither of them felt any sense of deserving what they had right then. Ryan never expected to be trusted with such a flawless body, and Brendon never thought he'd deserve such loving, soothing touch. Brendon was still waiting for the catch.

Brendon didn't move until Ryan managed to pull himself away and gather their belongings. He carried their towels and shirts to some white plastic lounge chairs that were sitting away from the pool and under a tree. Brendon watched from a small distance, longing for the water to distract him from his greasy skin. He watched Ryan bring the chairs together and lay the towels down and he knew Ryan was putting effort into everything; so much so that it did, in fact, feel like what Brendon thought a date should feel like. He grinned and took himself to sit on the edge of the pool, and the cool water felt like heaven on his legs after the heat of the sun and the concrete that he had walked on.

Ryan's feet could be heard pounding the ground for a couple seconds before he flew past Brendon. He landed several feet out and successfully soaked Brendon with a large splash, and Brendon watched the boy swim back toward him under unsettled water that was dotted with bright reflections of the sun.

Ryan's hand shot up and grabbed the side of the pool, but it searched for a second and came to rest on Brendon's knee. He used his friend to hold himself above the surface while he wiped his eyes. "That's how you do it, seriously. Just jump in and it won't seem as cold."

Brendon shrugged and rubbed the hand on his knee before he put both of his hands back on the ground. "It feels really good, actually."

"Oh, uh... you can swim, right? Because the kiddie pool is usually filled with pee and that goo that falls out of soaked diapers, and that's not really my thing..."

Brendon giggled. "Yeah, I'm fine. I mean I won't drown or anything, at least. I'm just so damn tired I might completely fail at keeping my head above water." Brendon glanced over at the paint on the concrete that described their end of the pool as six feet deep and not suitable for diving. "It just wears you out so much and I don't know if I have the energy to uh... not die."

"Well, that's what my shoulder's for. Just get in and hold on to me if you want. I wasn't planning on doing laps or anything so we can just float around."

Brendon smiled and dropped down into the water while continuing to cling to the edge. He didn't lie when he said he knew how to swim, but he was afraid that his mediocre skills would result in the flailing and splashing of limbs in the water, which wouldn't look very charming next to Ryan's rather impressive abilities. "You know," Brendon's words got Ryan's attention and the boy assumed Brendon's position, folding his arms and resting against the side of the pool. "I know we've had gym every day and I see you and everything," Brendon's hand floated under the water and came to rest on Ryan's back. He moved his fingers around and finished his sentence. "But I really don't get tired of seeing this."

Ryan laughed silently, but it was more like the feeling of air escaping his body as his chest sunk in against his heart. He briefly hid his smile over his folded arms by laying his head down, but he turned to look at the boy who was awaiting any sort of response. "And I feel the same way."

Brendon laughed at himself. "Well I'm glad because I'd be pretty creepy if you didn't."

"But you're not creepy; you're just really fucking adorable."

"Hey, no name calling!" Brendon let go of the side and rested his arm on Ryan's shoulder, boldly wrapping his hand around the back of Ryan's neck. "Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you. Or uh... something about rubber and glue as well, I think?"

Ryan laughed. "Are you calling me adorable?"

"Sounds like it, huh?"

Ryan smiled and lifted his hand to wipe the hair off of his forehead. "Hey, hold your breath for a second."

Brendon inhaled and nodded, and Ryan gently pushed him down under the surface of the water in order to get his hair wet. Brendon's hand slid down Ryan's side and when the boy resurfaced, Ryan moved wet hair out of his face for him. Brendon's hand stayed where it had landed on Ryan's side, and it was then that Ryan realized that he wasn't going to be able to control things anymore.

"Hey I know I said I wasn't going to swim laps of anything, but I'm gonna go down to the other end and back real quick if you're okay."

Brendon nodded and reluctantly let go, even though he knew it was for the best that he take some time to relax. Neither boy knew that they were starting to share the same problem. Going to the pool was both the best and worse idea that Ryan ever had.

An unspoken, awkward understanding formed regarding their little issue, and about an hour was spent swimming at a close distance and saying random things. Brendon's eyes were burning from the chlorine and he got out of the water, shaking himself off to get rid of some of the excess wetness.

Ryan was slightly disappointed and he followed closely behind his friend. "I think you need more sunblock."

Brendon grinned and shook his head. "It hasn't been two hours yet."

"Yeah, well." Ryan lifted his towel and wiped his face. "I still think you need it."

"You just wanna touch me, you know."

"I can't help it if your skin's soft!"

Brendon laughed and sat down on the foot of the lounge chair to dry his hair and face. "I really... you know," Brendon's voice was quiet and Ryan sat down behind him. "You think you could rub my shoulders again?"

"Of course; they still hurt?"

"It felt good and I just... really need it, if that's okay."

"Yeah... of course, Bren, anything..." Ryan's voice trailed off into concern. He put a small amount of lotion in his hands and rubbed them together while he watched Brendon lean forward. His arms were folded on top of his legs and he rested his forehead against them, giving Ryan complete access to his shoulders and back. "Did it start hurting more from swimming or whatever?"

Brendon shrugged. He felt bad for making Ryan try to undo damage that he didn't even cause.

"Well... alright, should I just do what I did earlier, or..."

Brendon nodded. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I'll do anything to make it feel better; I just didn't know if you had any suggestions." Ryan felt a huge sense of responsibility crash into him as he started to rub Brendon's shoulders. With as much tension was built up, the lack of hair was almost all that let Ryan know he wasn't pressing on Brendon's skull. "Really, is it... always this bad?"

"A lot, yeah."

"God I'm sorry, bab-- shhhhit, no, I'm... really sorry it's like this."

"Call me whatever, Ry, just keep going. Don't wanna talk."

Ryan's embarrassment stayed hidden behind Brendon's back. His phone rang and he looked down to see Spencer's name, but he let it go. "Just Spencer. Hell, he's probably calling to see if I want to come here with him. Which I don't because he's a dick." He laughed when he realized that Brendon couldn't see his face or identify his intent. "Nah, I'll call him later... he was just giving me crap the other day for hanging around you, but only because he likes to be a bitch. He'll find any reason he can to make fun of me but I guess that just goes back to us being like brothers... really, he's just jealous because he can't impress a girl to save his life, and here I am..."

Ryan let his voice trail off and he looked down at Brendon's bright red ears, but they weren't burnt. He knew he covered them with sunblock earlier in the morning. He moved his fingers slightly more onto Brendon's neck and he felt the boy relax, but Brendon twitched sharply when Ryan's finger hit his collarbone.

"What, what... I'm sorry, what's wrong?"

"It's okay, just don't touch the bone. I hate how it feels."

"Okay, I'm... sorry... and I know you said you didn't wanna talk, but yeah. I kind of don't know when to shut up."

"Can you sing?" Brendon's voice was scratchy and soft.

"I, uh... I wish?" Ryan chuckled while Brendon moved quickly, keeping his head down and producing his CD player and a set of little portable speakers from a plastic bag. "I'll sing when I'm alone sometimes... I'm afraid if I sing when people are around, I'll end up alone anyway."

Brendon listened, but he didn't respond. He resumed his previous position once The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most started to pour out of the small speakers that sat by his feet. Ryan continued to rub, but due to the redness of Brendon's shoulders, he kept his grip a bit lighter.

The second time the song started on repeat, Ryan started to sing quietly. He felt sort of okay about his voice if he was singing along with something, and besides, he needed something to break the silence between the two of them. Brendon just kept his head down; he had never felt so miserable and yet so wonderful at the same time.

Ryan sat back and watched Brendon momentarily. The boy's back was warm from Ryan's hands and he felt like it was time to at least take a break. Ryan shifted gently and laid down on his stomach on the chair that was pushed flush against the one Brendon was sitting on. He laid his head down and figured that if they weren't going to swim, he'd at least lay in the sun and listen to the music for a little bit.

Brendon stayed silent and put some lotion on Ryan's back and slowly rubbed it around. Ryan's eyes opened slightly and started to roll back. The heat and relaxation was starting to make him tired, and the feeling of a hand on his back didn't help. When Brendon finally took his hand back to himself, Ryan gently turned over onto his back and found himself staring up at Brendon.

Brendon's eyes were fixed on the speakers and Ryan saw that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, probably out of contemplation or sadness but probably closer to both. He watched a single tear fall from Brendon's eye and follow the trail of the ones before it and Ryan wanted to do something without bringing it up.

"Hey... hey," Ryan's hand went up to Brendon's shoulder, and the boy flinched and looked toward him, still expressionless. "Give me your ear; I wanna tell you something.

Brendon looked confused, but he leaned down and followed the path he was being pulled in by Ryan's hand. Giving in to pulling usually made him feel sick, but it was Ryan. Ryan hadn't hurt him yet.

Ryan put one hand on the back of Brendon's head and his other thumb discreetly wiped across the line of wet guilt that came from Brendon's eye. With his mouth almost against Brendon's ear, Ryan realized that he hadn't exactly thought of something to say; he only wanted an excuse to wipe Brendon's eyes. He inhaled and sat his nose completely against Brendon's ear, and a rush of warmness filled it when he laughed at himself. "You're okay."

Brendon sat up with a smile on his face while he clutched his ear. Ryan's hand was still on the back of his head and he gently messed with Brendon's wet hair before letting go. Brendon laughed nervously and wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. "That felt good."

Ryan wasn't sure if Brendon was referring to the shoulder rub or the honest words, but he hoped it was a little bit of both. He didn't want to pry for information that wasn't volunteered. The growing sadness was shot down the moment that Brendon lifted Ryan's spindly body and threw him back into the water, jumping in after him and managing to tickle his stomach before either of them resurfaced.

"You tickled me underwater?! You're gonna make me inhale the entire pool and drown, you jerk!"

Brendon laughed while Ryan pretended to pull on a handful of his hair. He scratched Brendon's head before letting him go, but Brendon grabbed a hold of his hand to keep him from letting go completely.


*****

part 2