Connor turned down Randolph Lane and punched the gas.

It was a gorgeous area. Trees dotted the rolling hills of the wide-open landscape and every quarter mile or so, a new and beautiful mansion would appear in the distance. The large houses were set far from the road with long, curving driveways and the addresses were only visible on the mailboxes.

The people who lived out here had lots of money… Connor had known a boy who’d lived in this neighborhood. He was an asshole and the entire memory was a bad one… Connor felt more uncomfortable with each sprawling house he passed… He shook his head and focused on the house numbers as they passed, searching like a hawk for the right one.

3827.

If he had blinked, he would have missed it. Connor tapped the brakes and jerked the wheel, deftly turning down the long, winding driveway.

The house at the end was a three floored, white brick building. The big windows on the front of the house peered at him suspiciously as he pulled up to the garage. Flower beds and tidy bushes lined the path to the front door. The home was so idyllic, it looked like something out of a TV show.

Connor refused to be impressed. He knew Hannah came from money, so the mansion was expected. M was the only thing on his mind. He parked and jumped out of the car. He flew up the front path and pounded at the door, his heart beating four times as fast. There was no ambulance, no sign of M… Connor hoped the boy was inside…

There was a short pause and Connor clenched and unclenched his fists while he waited. He finally lost patience and beat on the door a few additional times. Finally, the door opened. An older woman with short blond hair and glasses on a chain stood on the threshold, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“He’s lying on the couch,” Beth said curtly and Connor rudely pushed past her.

“Where?”

“In the living room. To the right.”

Connor went through a foyer with fancy paintings of barns and an old grandfather clock. He turned into the first room on the right. It barely looked like a ‘living room’ though; the furniture was all a spotless-white and everything was so pristine.

The floors were highly polished wood and covered in a large antique rug. There was a huge stone fireplace in the back of the room with shelves on either side of it. There were lots of books on the shelves, candles, and tiny, porcelain angel figurines.

It was a lot to take in, but Connor finally spotted M.

The boy was lying on a plush white couch in front of a picture window that looked out into the garden. His eyes were shut and a wet towel was on his forehead.

“M.” Connor sighed with relief. He went to the boy’s side and dropped to his knees next to the couch.

M’s eyes fluttered open and he turned. His glassy stare searching until it found Connor’s face. He grinned hugely and started to sit up. Connor helped him, taking the towel away.

“What happened?” Connor asked, staring into the blond’s vibrant green eyes.

Beth answered before M could. “I thought it would be nice if he learned to cook something simple,” she said and Connor glanced back at her as she toyed with the arm of her eyeglasses. She stopped, letting them fall to her chest. “I was teaching him how to make fresh bread.”

“I really wanted to learn,” M said softly and Connor turned back to him immediately. “I thought I could make us something to eat.”

Connor smiled gently. “That was a good idea.”

“He was doing fine,” Beth said. “He helped me mix the ingredients and then we popped the pan in the oven and did a writing lesson while we waited for the bread to bake. We were almost done and I was going to slice up the loaf--”

“And?” Connor pressed. “What caused the seizure?”

“He saw the knife and his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell over.” Beth laid her hand over her chest, over her dangling glasses. “He smacked his head against the kitchen table and shook on the floor. I wanted to call 911, but my daughter made me promise if anything like this happened, I’d contact her first.”

Connor sneered, annoyed that he had no say in the matter. Hannah didn’t care about M the way he did. Of course, it was pretty hard to see with his sudden insistence that M avoid the medical professionals. He had a feeling that M would be taken away from him though. And whether they’d find out who he was and where he belonged was anyone’s guess.

M was his to protect and care for. Nobody was going to interfere again, if he could help it. So, fuck the doctors and the police. And fuck Hannah and Beth, too, because Connor wasn’t letting anyone else take charge again!

Beth cleared her throat. “I think it’s best we get him to the ER,” she said. “He hit his head awfully hard.”

“No,” Connor said. “Show me the knife.”

Beth frowned and Connor turned back to M, smoothing his hair back tenderly. It was damp from the towel and the boy’s eyes fluttered with unreserved pleasure.

“I’ll be right back,” Connor told him.

M’s eyes flew open. “Don’t go...”

“I’ll be right back,” Connor said again. Firmly. “Then we’re going home,”

M’s eyes sparkled with happiness and Connor couldn’t help but to smile back.

Beth had her lips pressed into a thin line again and she fidgeted with her glasses as Connor stood up. He easily towered over both her and M.

“Show it to me,” Connor said again.

Beth swallowed. “The kitchen’s this way.”

Connor followed her into the other room. They had to go back through the foyer and he noticed a set of stairs that went up to the second floor. There was a table in the back of the narrow hallway decorated with a vase of fresh flowers and several picture frames. Two of them contained different photos of Hannah in her childhood. She looked cute and happy and was definitely a natural brunette.

Beth led him through an arched door frame and into a marble-floored kitchen. The countertops were marble as well and the cabinets were light wood. They went to the island in the middle of the room and across from it sat a small table with several chairs. Huge windows around the room looked out on the backyard and filled the space with light.

The entire house reeked of luxury. This was Hannah’s childhood home? He felt bitter and maybe a tad jealous too. His own childhood had been poor and depressing. Connor had a scowl on his face before Beth could say another word. The blond woman stood at the island, at the corner closest to the dining nook and Connor noticed there was a baking dish with bread, a wooden cutting board, and a gleaming bread knife laid out before her. Beth gently lifted the long knife with her thin hand.

“I pulled it out of the chopping block here.” She nodded towards the holder in the center of the island. “As soon as I did, he fell over and hit his head. There.”

Connor looked towards the dining nook. There was paper and writing utensils on the table. Some of the chairs were slightly askew. “I guess he doesn’t like big knives.”

Beth carefully set it down. “I think he might have a concussion. When he came out of the seizure, I herded him into the living room and put a cool cloth on his head. He looks terrible.”

Connor shook his head. “I’m taking him home.”

“What?”

“Get his clothes together. I’m taking him to my car.”

“Hannah—”

“Has no fucking say,” Connor said. “I found M. He’s my responsibility.”

“But—”

“Lady, don’t fuck with me,” Connor said shortly. “Pack up his shit.”

Beth hesitated. She slid the knife back into the holder and moved the bread pan around the counter.

“You heard me, right?” Connor asked aggressively.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Beth picked up the cutting board and moved it to the sink against the wall. Connor ground his teeth with annoyance. “I’ve been pestering my daughter for years now, wanting to meet you. I guess this is why she never introduced us.”

Connor had a feeling he was supposed to feel ashamed or something, but he didn’t. He crossed his arms and waited impatiently while Beth washed the cutting board off. Then she strutted from the room, not looking at him again. He heard her taking the steps to the second floor and finally, he allowed himself to return to the living room.

M was slouched on the couch. He sat up when Connor came into the room. “Is everything alright?” he asked.

“Yep. You’re coming home with me.”

M beamed. “Really?”

“Beth’s getting your stuff together,” Connor said. “Think you can stand up? Let’s get you to the car.”

M got to his feet with a little help from Connor. He immediately put his arm around Connor’s lower back. For stabilization, probably. Connor bit his lip. He had to starve off a foolish smile.

M’s coming home!

They got to the car and Connor helped the boy into the front seat. He tossed his Pizza Hut hat into the back, and lowered the seat for M’s comfort. “I have to go back for your stuff,” he said, looking back towards the mansion Hannah had grown up in, a mixture of bitterness and resentment churning inside him. He hoped Beth hurried the hell up.

“I don’t have much,” M said as if reading his thoughts. “Just some clothes Hannah got for me.”

“I’ll be right back, then.” He shut the passenger door and headed back to the house. He entered the foyer and stood, tapping his foot. “You good?” he yelled up the stairs after a moment or two. He folded his arms tightly across his chest. He felt so uncomfortable in this place…

“Just a minute!”

Connor huffed and did the only thing he still could. Wait.

It took longer than a minute, but Beth was back soon, carrying a small green backpack in her arms. “We got him a few more outfits,” she said. “But he doesn’t have much.”

“Well, I’ve got a fantastic washer/dryer set,” Connor said, smiling obnoxiously.

Beth pursed her lips again, but said nothing more. She handed over the bag.

Connor turned and gratefully left the house behind. Back at the car, Connor tossed M’s bag into the back and hopped behind the wheel. “Do you get carsick?” he asked the blond.

“I like going for rides,” M said. He was reclined in the passenger seat, his fingers laced together in his lap. He smiled at Connor but his gaze darted to the window as the car started to move.

The boy seemed fascinated with the view, with the trees that passed, with the different houses and buildings, with the other drivers on the road… He sat up in his seat as they went through town, his head moving back and forth like an oscillating fan cranked to the max.

The ride was mostly spent in silence, but Connor didn’t mind. He was almost as fascinated with M’s reactions as the boy was with the world. Connor couldn’t help watching him from time to time, enamored with the look of wonder on the boy’s face.

They got back to the trailer in record time and as soon as he spotted the little, beat-up, shit-house M grinned from ear to ear. He was practically bouncing in his seat.

“Are you hungry?” Connor asked as he parked and shut off the engine.

“Yeah!”

“Cool. I’ll make something for us to eat.” Connor took a moment to collect M’s bag from the backseat and then led the way inside.

The blond was walking on his own again, without support, and they got inside without any issues. Connor tossed M’s backpack on the couch and went into the kitchen to start some lunch.

M grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. He chose a cartoon and Connor watched the animation from the kitchen.

“Beth didn’t want me to watch any TV,” M said. He moved to sit beside his bag. He touched the backpack absently, but his eyes were glued to the TV screen. “I like learning, but I really like watching TV, too.”

Connor chuckled. “That’s a teacher for you. Nothing but books.”

He brought a couple sandwiches into the living room and sat beside M. The blond looked up at him, his eyes coy. “I don’t have to go back there right? I mean, I guess I wouldn’t mind visiting. But I want to stay here. With you.”

“No. You don’t have to go back.”

M beamed some more and accepted his sandwich. He bit into it and hummed with pleasure and Connor laughed at him, feeling light with happiness. He didn’t know why he’d let Hannah take M away in the first place. M belonged here.

Almost as if Connor had summoned the girl with his thoughts, his phone started ringing again. He set his sandwich aside and grabbed the stupid thing out of his back pocket. He knew it was Hannah before he even checked.

“Who’s that?” M asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

Connor stared at the screen in silence. Eventually it stopped ringing and went dark again and he set it aside. M had already lost interest; his gaze was drifting back to the TV and Connor simply chose not to answer.

The afternoon passed easily. Connor subjected himself to whatever entertainment M found amusing. He ended up explaining a lot of things, educating M’s very lacking social and communication skills. It was annoying but yet also fairly amusing at times.

Eventually, Connor got several chimes on his phone in a row. Text messages. He didn’t check them, but he moved the phone into his lap and toyed with it distractedly. M’s silly little children’s show ended and almost as if he sensed Connor would appreciate the privacy, M said he was going to do the dishes.

Connor watched him collect the plates from lunch and take them into the kitchen, then he waited for him to start running the water before he felt free to check his phone at last.

The first thing Connor saw, however, was the time. It was nearly 3 o’clock and Connor didn’t want to go to work. He skipped Hannah’s texts and dialed Pizza Hut.

“Thank you for choosing Pizza Hut! This is Tamera. Will this be for pickup or delivery today?”

“Hey Tamera.” Connor wished he’d have thought of an excuse before he called, but figured he’d be honest. “Um, it’s Connor.”

“Oh, what’s up kid? Everything alright?”

Connor ruffled his fingers through his hair, glancing up to make sure M was absorbed in the task of cleaning before he said anymore.

“No, actually. I’m having a little emergency going on. I don’t think I can make it in tonight.”

“Really?” Tamera’s voice was flat.

“Uh, I’m sorry,” he said lamely. “I’ll be in tomorrow. But tonight…. I’ve got some stuff to take care of.”

Tamera was silent for a moment. Connor checked to make sure the line hadn’t been cut, but Pizza Hut’s number was still active on his phone.

“I’ll see if Chad can stay an hour later or Josh can make it in a little early. But it’s Friday.”

Connor knew it was Friday. It was usually pretty busy once the weekend started. But so what? He rarely called off. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to call and have this stupid conversation.

“Sorry,” he said.

Tamera sighed. “Well, I’ve got some calls to make. I hope everything’s alright.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“See you tomorrow,” Tamera said and hung up.

Connor felt strange and a little unclean. He never asked for favors. He never needed someone to cover for him. He hoped everybody would fare alright without him, but fuck it. His housemate had just experienced a seizure. He shouldn’t be pressured into work, to get shitty tips and to take care of fucking dishes and dough. Fuck Pizza Hut.

Connor forgot about checking Hannah’s texts. He let his phone fall back on the couch cushion and he grabbed up the remote from the place M had left it and he flipped through the few basic cable channels until he found some court TV.

M finished washing dishes and came through the living room, heading down the hall.

“Where are you off too?” Connor asked.

“Bathroom break,” M said happily.

Connor eyed him inquisitively as he passed. He was wearing shorts now and a vibrant green polo. He wondered what else Beth and Hannah had bought for him.

The court show started on a new case. Some buck-toothed hillbillies were complaining they’d never gotten paid for the completion of a renovation project and the defendant was saying he’d fired them for doing such a terrible job. Connor sneered at the hillbillies on the stand. The first guy had his shirt open and the hair on his chest was exposed. The second had a confederate flag tattooed on his throat.

What a couple of losers.

M came back after a couple minutes and he eyed the screen.

“What are you watching?”

“Something stupid,” Connor rolled his eyes. “Hey, what else did Hannah get for you? Just clothes?”

M smiled and he sat next to Connor again. He unzipped his backpack and besides a couple pairs of clothing, folded neatly, he also pulled out a couple children’s books and a notepad.

“I’m going to read these,” M said, flipping through the simple picture books. “And this is the notebook I’ve been writing in.” He paged through the notebook until he got to the last filled page. “I was practicing your name. C-O-N-N-O-R.”

Connor glanced at the page and his face started to heat up. M had written his name hundreds of times. In every blank space, in every margin.

“I’ll never forget it now,” M said, staring with reverence at Connor’s name spilled on the page.

“I guess not,” Connor said.

M smiled at him and pushed the clothes and books aside. “What stupid thing are you watching?”

Connor tried to explain what was happening on TV. The boy giggled as he tore the hillbillies, each of them, a new asshole. They both got really involved and by the time the judge ended the case they were siding with the defendant.

“That was fun! I’m glad someone can handle arguments like that.”

“She’s called a judge. And it’s mostly for entertainment. That stuff happens in real life, but most of it doesn’t get aired on TV.”

They watched the credits and another commercial break. Maury was up next and Connor got ready to explain what a paternity test was. And then his phone started ringing and he jumped. The phone had slipped under his butt and between the cushions and he fished it out, unsurprised to see it was Hannah again.

He sighed and finally answered. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Hannah mocked. “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours!”

“Well, I’m here now. What’s up.”

“Where are you? Heading to work?”

“I called off,” Connor said.

“Oh. Good.” Hannah didn’t sound thrilled though. Her voice was as flat as Tamera’s had been an hour before.

“Yeah. It’s totally awesome.” He rolled his eyes.

“We need to talk in person. I’m in the area, I’ll see you soon.”

“Oh yeah? And what are we going to talk about?”

“I’ll see you soon,” Hannah said shortly and hung up.

Connor ripped the phone from his ear. “Fucking bitch,” he growled.

Beside him, M was watching with wide eyes. “Was that Hannah?”

“Yep. She’s coming over. She wants to talk about something.”

M bit his lip. “Please,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “Please, I don’t want to leave.”

“You’re not going to!”

M shrank back at the anger in his voice and Connor huffed with annoyance. “I’m not mad at you,” he said. “Just…. I’ll talk to her outside. Stay here, ok?”

M nodded immediately and Connor attempted to calm down. He took a couple deep breaths, trying to compose himself. He was in the trailer with an innocent, stupid boy. He needed to get ahold of himself.

The Maury Show started and Connor stared at it without seeing. M didn’t ask any more questions and they sat on the couch together, waiting for Hannah to show up.

On the TV, a white chick with purple hair was declaring she knew the redhead beside her was her baby daddy. It was the 4^th time she’d been on the show.

Maury opened an envelope with the paternity results and the audience held its breath.

“You are not the father!” Maury cried and the audience roared with laughter. The purple haired chick ran off stage, crocodile tears streaming down her face, mascara rapidly following.

Hannah called again and Connor heard her car pulling up in the gravel.

He didn’t answer the phone. He handed the remote over to M and went out the front door.

Hannah parked behind Connor’s Honda. She had her phone pressed to the side of her face. As Connor came out, she peeled it away and stared at him through her windshield.

Connor shut the door behind him. He came to stand between the Honda and Hannah’s Prius, arms crossed, his expression grim.

Hannah carefully put her phone away and checked her reflection in the rear view mirror. It took a moment, but she finally got out. She avoided Connor’s gaze, but came to stand just in front of him. Connor said nothing. He stared her down, daring her to look at him.

She finally spoke. “My mother said you were a rude little shit.”

Connor scoffed.

“You didn’t have to be such a jerk. We were taking care of M just fine. How was she supposed to know a bread knife would give M a seizure?”

Connor glared at her.

Hannah sighed and finally looked up into his face. “Remember when I started looking for apartments in the city? So I could be closer to my internship?”

Taken aback by the change in subject, Connor’s arms dropped to his sides. “Uh, yeah?”

“Well, how come every time I mentioned you coming with me, moving in with me, you said no?” Hannah asked and Connor blinked in confusion. “You said you wanted to be alone, but now, you want this kid to live with you. What does he have that I don’t?”

Connor was silent. He vaguely remembered the series of conversations. He didn’t know how to explain himself.

“Connor!” Hannah snapped. “What the fuck is going on with you?!”

“I don’t know, ok!” Connor cried back. “I feel responsible for him,” he trailed off lamely. He knew that sounded like a dumb answer, but he didn’t know how else to explain his change of heart. “He’s not like anyone else I’ve ever met. I like him.” He finished awkwardly.

“So, you barged into my mother’s house. Demanded she pack up his things. Threw M over you shoulder and left? All in 15 minutes?”

“Yep.”

“Oh c’mon!” Hannah stomped her foot. “There has to be a better reason you’d be such a dick, besides ‘he’s not like anyone you’ve ever met’!”

“I’m always a dick,” Connor said. “And M likes being here. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“He’s basically in love with you!” Hannah cried. “You know that right? He’s infatuated with you. I showed him how to spell your name and he filled pages and pages with ‘Connor’!” She sputtered for a second. “He… he’s like a lovesick teenage girl!”

Connor shifted awkwardly, thinking back to the page M had showed him earlier. “Wait, there was more than one page?”

Hannah glared at him, her dark eyes filled with anger and Connor figured that was a yes. “Are you gay?” She asked in a rush.

Connor’s cheeks filled with heat. “No!”

“Liar,” Hannah said and she sniffled and looked away. Her eyes were suddenly brimming with tears. “You’re falling for him,” she said, her voice dripping with sadness.

Guilt crushed Connor’s heart in a fist of doubt. For the majority of their relationship, Connor had attempted to please Hannah as best he could. That’s why they’d started having sex. That’s why he let her come over whenever she wanted and why they talked about shit Connor wasn’t comfortable talking about.

He felt like he needed to protect her. Especially from this, because he actually was attracted to M and already, that fact was tearing her up.

He wasn’t happy with the way Hannah had tried to come between him and M, but M was back to stay and Connor was willing to overlook her error in judgement. She was just jealous, and, as little as he knew about love, Connor felt for the girl.

“I don’t like him like that,” he said easily and he felt confident saying it, because he didn’t love the kid. Sure, his ass was cute and his cock and balls had been more appealing than he had imagined, but he didn’t love M.

“Tell me then,” Hannah said, still avoiding his eyes. “How do you like him?”

“Like a roommate. Like a friend,” Connor said. “He’s easy to get along with. He loves anything I put in front of him, he does the dishes for me and he stays out of my way. I don’t have a problem with him.”

Hannah snorted. “And so, he gets to move in with you. Not me. I can do dishes too, you know.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to move to the city.”

“Why not?” Excitement played in Hannah’s eyes as she looked at him again. “You could ditch Pizza Hut. In the city, there’s tons of places you could deliver for. You wouldn’t even have to work with food anymore if you didn’t want to.”

Connor fidgeted. “But I like it here,” he said. “I like the trailer. Nobody bothers me here.” Hannah gave him an incredulous look and Connor knew she wasn’t buying it. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about neighbors,” he said at last.

She shook her head, looking off into the swamp surrounding the property. Her eyes were still sparkling with tears, but it wasn’t like that dumb chick on Maury. She didn’t have mascara running down her face. She wasn’t bawling her eyes out.

Connor really felt bad for her.

“So, are you moving into your new place this weekend? Your internship starts next week, right?”

Hannah snapped her gaze back to Connor in an instant. She gaped at him. “Are you serious?!”

Connor felt a bug crawling up the back of his neck and he swatted at it aggressively.

“I’m not moving anywhere!” she cried, her voice shaking with emotion. “I asked you a million times to come with me! I needed you to help with rent!” She suddenly stumbled backwards and Connor watched helplessly as she fell back to sit against the hood of her car. She buried her face in her hands, but Connor could still hear her when she spoke. “Oh my god, you weren’t even listening to me!” She sobbed into her hands and shook like a fresh spring leaf trembling under a torrential rain.

Connor glanced back towards the trailer. He wanted desperately to escape the situation, but he knew he couldn’t. He’d been the one to cause all this drama and pain in the first place…

“I’m sorry, ok,” he said, coming closer to the girl. He touched her shaking shoulder.

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” Hannah removed her wet hands from her face. Her dark eyes were overflowing with tears. They had run down her cheeks, into the corners of her mouth, and dripped from the curve of her chin. Her lips trembled. “I want you to love me, Connor. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Connor felt the urge to recoil and he tightened his hold on Hannah’s shoulder to ground himself.

He and Hannah had danced around that word for years, but neither of them had ever said it. Connor had never wanted to say it because it wasn’t true. He’d always figured Hannah would eventually get the picture. That this was all it was ever going to be.

But obviously she wasn’t getting it.

“I know you don’t do ‘love’ or whatever,” she sniffled and Connor stared resolutely at his hand grasping Hannah’s shoulder. “But why can’t you make an exception for me? I’ve been your friend this entire time. I really don’t understand your obsession with M—”

“I’m not obsessed,” Connor snapped.

“Then what would you call it?”

Connor paused. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. He could just… go with it. He could tell Hannah the truth. That he’d been having very positive feelings for the boy sitting in the trailer behind him... And then she would probably label him a homosexual and maybe slap him for the years of deception, but so what? It would be better if he were honest. It would be better for him and for Hannah.

“Connor?” Hannah’s quiet questioning voice brought his gaze back to her. Uncomfortably, he met the girl’s teary eyes and he shrunk a little.

It was true that Connor hated most people. And it was true that he wasn’t attracted to the girl in front of him. He wasn’t in love with her and they were definitely not dating.

But he loved her in another way. In a way that frequently made him feel small and dumb. Like a child.

She was Connor’s family.

He chewed his tongue. Hard. Because the realization was jarring.

He hated his own family... His father had beat him. His mother had abandoned him. He’d never even seen his half-brother and besides that? There was no one else.

“Connor, please say something—”

Connor dipped down and kissed the girl on the mouth. He tasted salty tears and felt her wet lips squish against his in an unpleasant way. The girl gasped and sighed into his mouth. She rose up, her arms wrapping around his body. She held onto him. Tightly. Crying into the kiss that seemed to last for hours.

“I love you,” she said when they broke apart at last. Her eyes were still wet, but she was smiling now.

“I love you, too,” Connor said softly, unable to keep Hannah’s intense eye contact. He knew he was lying to her, but somehow, he thought he was helping.

Hannah’s smile broadened. “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”

“Well, don’t expect to hear it again anytime soon,” he said grumpily.

Hannah laughed, moving back to wipe her eyes. “I won’t.”

They stood in silence for a minute. Hannah attempted to compose herself and Connor looked back towards the trailer again, wondering if M had seen any of that. He shouldn’t have said that stuff. He should have just told Hannah the truth, but it was done now and Hannah was back to her old self. Connor just let it go.

“So, how was the exam? And the presentation yesterday?”

Hannah shifted her long hair over her shoulder and combed through it absently with her fingers. “It went well. I’m ready to become a student teacher.” She tried to play it off, but she was glowing with pride. Connor could see it.

“That’s great,” he said.

Hannah smirked. “I’m going to be really busy next week,” she said. “I hope you and M will be alright.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“You’re working again tomorrow?”

“Yep. I paid electric. Just barely.” Connor said, rolling his eyes. He smiled a little when Hannah giggled at him. “I’ve got to get some cash together to feed us.”

“Let me help you out a little,” she said sweetly and Connor didn’t really know what she meant until she went back to her car and started digging around in the console. She returned with two 20-dollar bills.

“Thanks,” Connor said awkwardly, but he pocketed the cash. He again thought about buying some weed with his tip money. This would at least buy them a couple days’ worth of meals if he spent it wisely.

“Maybe we can make some plans for next weekend,” Hannah suggested. “We could all do something fun together. I’ll need it. Especially after this weekend. I’ve got a lot of work to do before my class starts Monday.”

“Ok,” Connor nodded. “Sounds good.”

“I’m sorry,” Hannah said suddenly and Connor raised an eyebrow. “For all the drama. That was like an episode of Jerry Springer or something.”

“Hardly.”

The girl beamed at him. “Well, I’ll let you get settled with your roomie. Have him practice reading those books in his backpack. They’re level one. I can bring level two next weekend.”

“Alright.”

Connor didn’t get off that easily though. Hannah pulled him down for another kiss. Her tongue was insistent against Connor’s lips. His eyes were closed, but he rolled them mentally.

When they broke apart Hannah tugged him into a hug. She clutched at him, digging her fingers into his back and Connor put up with that too, patiently waiting for Hannah to get her fill.

“I’ve got to go,” she said. When she pulled back, she looked nervous for some reason. She continued to play with her hair, wrapping it around one of her fingers, and her eyes kept sneaking peeks at him. Connor tried not to laugh at her. It was just funny. She looked silly. She managed to turn and go back to her Prius, though and Connor waved goodbye as she drove off. He watched her go for a couple moments.

When he returned to the trailer, M scrambled back from the window. He threw himself onto the couch and looked stubbornly at the TV screen but it was obvious he hadn’t been watching any of the programing; he’d been watching the show on the front lawn instead.

Connor sighed and came to sit beside the boy. They were both quite. The Maury Show had finished and the afternoon news had started. They watched that for a while. In silence. The tension between them was thick and negatively charged.

“Did you become mates?” M asked stiffly. It had been almost 40 minutes since Hannah had left.

Connor sighed again. “No.”

“Why was Hannah crying?”

“Because she thinks something’s going on between us.”

“But there’s nothing going on,” M said softly and Connor glanced at him. His heart sunk when he saw the crumpled look on the boy’s sweet little face. His mouth was downturned again and he wasn’t looking at Connor but at the TV instead. His eyes were glassy with disinterest.

“No, there isn’t,” Connor agreed and hated himself instantly when M sank further into the couch cushions. He looked absolutely miserable.

“I thought you liked me,” he said.

“I do.”

“I’m confused,” M said.

Connor snorted. M was confused? Fuck. Connor didn’t even know what the fuck he was doing at this point.

“Why is that funny?” M asked the TV.

“It’s not. It’s just… we’re in the same boat.”

“What?”

“I’m confused too,” Connor said.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should stop lying to me and maybe you should get together with Hannah. You obviously like her more than me. You just kissed her. A lot.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that. What just happened out there,” Connor gestured to the window. “That was complicated. It’s hard to explain.”

M glanced at him finally and he looked like a pouty toddler. He had his brow furrowed and his bottom lip pushed out. “What’s hard to explain?” the blond asked. “Nobody kisses their friends like that. You love her.”

Connor frowned. “I did it because she loves me. You already figured that out yourself,” he said. “And how the fuck do you know anything about love and relationships?”

“I’ve learned a lot watching TV,” M said loftily. “And besides, we’re friends too, aren’t we? I wanted you to kiss me and you turned me down.”

“That’s because you’re a boy. We’ve already had this conversation.”

“Why can’t you make an exception?”

“Because!” Connor cried. This argument was giving him stupid flashes of déjà vu. He knotted his fingers in his hair. “Listen to me. Hannah is jealous because I’m letting you stay here with me. I’d never let her live with me. I’ve turned her down more than once.” He said firmly. “She has this fucked up delusion that we’re together, but I’ve never once agreed to date her. I agreed to fuck her and I let her kiss me—”

“You kissed her just now!” M said fearlessly, cutting him off.

“Yeah! I did!” Connor snapped. “And it had nothing to do with love.”

“Then why do you kiss her like that?” M snapped back.

“I don’t know,” Connor said uncomfortably. “Because I’m used to living this bullshit lie.”

“What lie?”

Connor opened and shut his mouth several times, not really knowing how to explain. “The lie that keeps her as my friend,” he said finally. “I’ll never see her again if I tell her that I’m attracted to you and that I like being with you more than her. She’ll be so heartbroken. It shouldn’t be that important to me, but it is, M. I don’t have a lot of people in my life. I have Hannah and now you. And honestly, who the fuck knows how long I’ll have you.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean?” Connor laughed with bewilderment. “Who are you, M? I know nothing about you. I don’t even know where you came from. You appeared in the middle of the swamp, in the middle of the night. How do I know you won’t just up and disappear one day?”

M worried his lip. The furrow had disappeared from his brow and he looked like he was deep in thought. “I won’t disappear,” he said quietly after a moment.

Connor snorted. “Whatever. And listen, ok? I’m sorry you had to see that, but Hannah’s been a part of my life much longer than you’ve been in it. I’m doing the best I can here. I’m trying to process this shit.”

M didn’t say anything. He looked back towards the TV.

“Just…. Give me a minute. To figure this shit out—”

“That’s what Hannah said I had to do,” M said. “She said I’d get over you.” Even just repeating the conversation made M look sad.

“Well, I honestly need the time. I don’t want to be with Hannah, ok? But she’s my best friend. Before I totally commit to you. Before I start breaking everything I’ve ever believed about myself. Before I even think about kissing you, I need to be sure this is what I really want.”

M blinked a few times. “I guess I can understand that.”

“Good,” Connor sighed, smoothing his hair down. “I was lonely when Hannah took you away. I’ve never felt that lonely in my adult life, “ he said and M lowered his gaze, his pale eyelashes grazing his downy cheeks. “That means something, M. I’m not sure what, but just wait around and see.”

The boy nodded, his lips turning up at the corners. It was a gentle smile, but M looked like he was fighting an even larger one. He was failing miserably. His lips were pressed together and he was visibly struggling to keep them from splitting open.

M was so goofy.

“Just shut up and watch cartoons, “ Connor said, switching the channel back to the kid’s station. He got off the couch then and headed to his room.

He seriously needed some time alone to think…

***

Saturday was another beautiful day. Summer was almost over, but it was still bright and sunny outside.

Connor donned his jogging shorts and went out into the living room. M was already awake and he smiled shyly at Connor as he entered the room. Connor smiled back and suddenly, he an idea. “Do you want to come with me?” he asked.

“For a run?” M’s face screwed up as he thought it over. “I’d like to go outside,” he said finally.

Connor snorted. “Don’t tell me you can’t run.”

“Is it hard?”

“For some people,” Connor said. “But I know all about it. I’ll teach you. C’mon.”

M got off the couch and stood up. He was wearing green and blue plaid sleep pants and a white t-shirt with a smiley face.

“Put your shorts on. Keep the t-shirt,” Connor said.

“OK! “ M very enthusiastically dropped his pants and turned to rummage through his bag. Connor was a little sad to see Hannah had also bought him boxer briefs. Little M’s bottom was covered.

“And definitely put some shoes on,” he said, watching the blond dress himself. Then they went out together, into the warm summer air.

“Look! A squirrel!” M cried pointing out the little critter perched up in the branches of a nearby tree. “Beth told me all about those.”

“Would you look at that,” Connor said sarcastically, but M was laughing with joy and didn’t catch it. Connor mentally patted himself on the back for the idea. He should have brought M outside awhile ago.

“Ok, first of all, we have to stretch if we’re going to exercise. It’s important to stretch your muscles before and after so you don’t pull one. That hurts,” he said.

M, his eyes still on the squirrel, nodded dumbly.

“Hey, watch and learn,” Connor snapped his fingers and M obediently turned back to him.

They went through some basic stretches on the front porch and M giggled at all the strange angles they put themselves in. Connor was adamant about the process though.

“Now can we try to run?” M asked as they finished stretching out their legs.

“Yep, now we can start,” Connor said and he started off down the gravel drive at a slow trot. “Keep your arms at your sides, but bend them at the elbow. Don’t clench your fists together. Imagine you’re holding an invisible ball. Keep them loose.”

M was already falling behind, but he moved his arms and hands into the correct positions, kicking up gravel with his clumsy feet. “What’s that thing!” he cried.

Connor glanced up in the trees again, spotting a dumb bird drilling it’s pecker into the truck. “That’s a woodpecker. He’s probably trying to find some bugs to eat,” he said.

“Ohhh!”

Connor rolled his eyes. “C’mon, M. Pick up the pace!”

M tore his eyes out of the trees and struggled to catch up. He was already gasping and they hadn’t even reached the road yet. “And we… just keep… doing this?” he asked between his gasps for air.

“Try to control your breathing,” Connor said, ignoring the question. “Don’t have your mouth hanging open like that. You’ll be the one catching bugs next. Just part your lips and pull in a deep breath, then exhale slowly.”

M shut his mouth and then opened it again, just a tad. He sucked in a ragged breath and then his mouth flew open again. He panted like a dog. “This is hard!”

“It’s good for you. It keeps your body healthy. You just need to build some stamina.”

“What’s stama?”

“Stamina is when you can run for long periods of time without feeling tired,” Connor said. “The more you practice, the better you get. It’s rewarding.”

They finally neared the road, not without Connor having to pull M’s attention back from the trees and to correct his form, more than once.

M stopped at the end of the driveway and he leaned over his knees, gasping for breath. “I can’t… go anymore!”

“That was barely a half mile,” Connor scoffed, but he stopped and waited for him to catch his breath. “We didn’t even hit a good pace.”

“I’m… sorry!” M’s face was shiny with sweat and he was flushed from the exertion.

Connor shook his head. “That’s alright. We can walk the rest of the way.” He waited until M stood up straight again and then led the boy down the road. He didn’t think they’d go all the way to the abandoned house, but felt they should at least attempt a mile. And M did better with walking anyway; he was able to ask a million curious questions about nature. He wanted to know the names of the birds and the bees, he wanted plants identified and picked up rocks to study. He even asked about the clouds in the sky. Of course, Connor was no scientist, but he found he did know a thing or two about the local wildlife.

“Do you think there’s any dogs out here?” M asked as they reached the end of the road.

“There’s wild dogs maybe.” Connor put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and directed him to turn around. “But you shouldn’t try to approach them. They’re mean.”

“But the one me and Beth saw at the park was so nice,” M said. “I love dogs.”

Connor thought about the kids who’d left dog shit on his doorstep. He’d never been dog person, really…

Luckily, M changed the topic and they chatted all the way back to the gravel drive. Connor waited until they’d cleared the mailbox before he poked the boy in the ribs. “I’ll race you back!” he cried and then sprinted off down the drive.

M wailed and ran to keep up. He was no match for Connor’s longer legs and his endurance and he ate Connor’s dust in seconds.

It was just a joke though, Connor was more than aware that M couldn’t keep up, he hadn’t expected this to be an actual competition. He stopped halfway back to the trailer and waited for the kid to catch up. M wasn’t directly behind him and the seconds stretched into long, silent minutes as he waited for the boy. He sighed heavily, stuck between annoyance and concern, and suddenly there was a strange metallic humming coming from the space overhead and Connor looked up anxiously. The wind played gently with the leaves and branches above, but the foliage blocked out wide swatches of sky. Must be a helicopter, he thought, dismissing the strange noise.

He tapped his foot, nervousness agitating his sudden spike of irritation. He was five seconds away from running back down the drive so he check on the kid, when the blond finally rounded the bend about 3 yards down.

“Took you long enough!” Connor called, the instant relief making him smile like an idiot. What a slowpoke. But as M approached, he noticed the boy was covered in dust and his white smiley t-shirt was splattered with mud. His knees were bloody and encrusted with grime. “Fuck,” Connor muttered to himself and he ran to meet the kid halfway.

“I fell,” M said uselessly, because clearly, Connor could see that.

“That was a bad idea. I’m sorry,” Connor said. “C’mon let’s get back to the trailer. I’ll patch you up.” He put an arm around M’s shoulders and helped him limp along the driveway. He was kicking himself internally and feeling incredibly stupid. The blond winced with every step and Connor took a bit more of the boy’s weight. He just wanted to make things right again. Fuck, Connor! Way to ruin everything!

They made it back in less than 5 minutes and Connor held the screen door open for the blond. “Head to the bathroom,” he said. “Sit on the toilet.”

“Ok,” M groaned and limped off down the hall.

Connor went into the kitchen and found a clean dishcloth. He followed the boy into the bathroom.

M was sitting on the toilet seat, poking at his wounds. He was staring with fascination at the bloody scratches on his knees.

“C’mon. Don’t touch that.”

“Is this blood?”

“Yes,” Connor said with exasperation.

“I’ve never seen it before,” M said and suddenly they were back with the amnesia story. After all the stupid bullshit they’d been through already. Connor didn’t say anything. He pressed his lips together, frustrated with himself, annoyed with M’s ‘Captain Obvious’ questions, but mostly just overwhelmed with everything.

Connor glanced at the blond, clicking his tongue with when he saw the boy dipping his finger into the bright red spill of blood and he looked away, leaving the blond to it. If Connor opened his mouth, he’d just start chastising M and he wasn’t going to be nice about it either. He hated repeating himself.

M brought his bloody finger closer to his face and Connor turned the sink on. He ran the water and got the dishcloth wet before he moved back to boy, hoping to clean him and bandage him up quick.

M was breathing hard. He gasped for breath like he was running again. And all the while he stared at his bloodied finger with an intensity that far outweighed the simple injury.

“M?” Connor crouched between the boy’s knees. Just in time too, because M’s eyes rolled up in his head and he fell forward into Connor’s lap. “Fuck!”

The boy shook in Connor’s arms. His bloody knees rubbed all over the tile.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Connor cried, holding the shaking boy to his chest. “Wake up! Snap out of it!” He lifted M away from him so he could see his face, but M’s head lolled uselessly to the side. His eyes were partly open, but all Connor could see were the whites.

It has to be the blood. It’s the blood freaking him out! Connor thought wildly. He moved to the tub and laid M in the basin. He grabbed the shower head and turned on the water. He started spraying the blood away.

M’s knees were decently tore up from the gravel. The blood washed away easily but more was welling to the surface. Connor switched the hose’s spray from M’s left knee to his right.

M moaned. The sound was loud and insistent in the little shower stall and Connor looked up at the boy’s face. M’s eyes were screwed shut and he gasped. He sat up abruptly with a cry, jerking out of unconsciousness. “Oww,” he moaned, his green eyes tearing up. He shrunk away from the water.

Connor flinched and he looked wildly back at M’s knees. It was fucking steaming hot! M’s pale skin was stained a bright red in the knee region, everywhere the water had touched the past few seconds.

“Oh God.” Quickly, Connor jumped up and turned the cold knob on high. The steam dissipated and M sighed a little in relief. Connor turned his back on the boy for a second. He slid his fingers up through his hair, knotting the short locks and just barely managing not to start trying to rip his own stupid head off. Fuck! He was failing so hard at taking care of this kid… He yanked his shirt off before M saw the blood on it and then turned around again.

“I’m sorry,” he said slowly.

“I was burning up,” M said dazedly.

“I know. I’m so sorry,” Connor said again.

“I think I was bleeding, too.” M started to sit up, soaking wet and blearily eyed, but Connor quickly pressed him back down into the tub.

“Don’t look,” he said firmly.

“But I want to see—”

“No, you don’t. Let me take care of it. There’s blood everywhere,” Connor said firmly.

M looked at him intently with his glassy green eyes, but he didn’t try to sit up again. He nodded.

Connor left him to grab the dishcloth from the sink. When he returned, he started to carefully mop up M’s still bleeding knees.

“It hurts,” the boy hissed.

“I know,” Connor said. He was trying to be gentle but he just wanted to get M bandaged and dry. This was all his fault.

“What happened?” M asked, his eyes locked on Connor’s face.

“You saw your blood and had another seizure,” Connor said. “I’m surprised you didn’t pass out in the gravel. Didn’t you see it out there? When you fell?”

“I didn’t look,” M said. “I was just trying not to lose you.”

Connor sighed. He’d really fooled M. What a hilarious joke. “You weren’t going to lose me. I was just playing around. I’m sorry.”

M smiled softly, wincing as Connor touched a particularly tender spot. “You already said that.”

“Well, I mean it. I won’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

“What? Like tricking me?”

Connor thinned his lips. “Yeah. Definitely not.”

Once the bleeding had stopped, Connor let all the red tinged water drain out of the tub. He grabbed his bath towel and finally, he had M sit up.

“Don’t look at the floor. You got blood down there, too,” he said, and then he wrapped M up in the towel and lifted him. He carried the boy into the bedroom and stood on the threshold with M in his arms, bridal style. “I ah… have to get you out of your wet clothes before I can take care of your knees,” Connor said awkwardly.

“Ok,” the boy said and Connor found his stare drawn to M’s soft mouth. Their faces were very close together and he got caught up staring at the boy’s plump bottom lip… Then he jerked into action because he’d been standing there motionless for much too long. He moved to set M on the bed, thinking absently that he didn’t weigh very much. He hadn’t hit the lights when they’d come in, and he didn’t bother now. The sun streamed through the little bedroom window, illuminating the room better than the overhead did anyway.

“I’m going to start with your shirt first.” Connor stood over the little blond, feeling like a giant.

M nodded like it didn’t even matter, and to him, it probably didn’t.

Connor’s hand, as he reached out to grab the edge of M’s smiley t-shirt, felt as dexterous and nimble as a catcher’s glove. He tugged on the wet cotton and M lifted his arms to help.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked as Connor peeled his shirt over his head. The wet fabric ruffled his hair. “Why do I have seizures?”

“I’m not sure,” Connor muttered. “It’s a total mystery so far.”

“Do you have seizures?” The blond asked, looking curiously up at Connor. Bare-chested and with his hair mussed, M looked very innocent and sweet and Connor licked his lips, helplessly enjoying the sight.

“N-no,” Connor muttered. “Most people don’t.”

M frowned. “Oh.”

Connor swallowed nervously. “Can you sit back for me, so I can get your pants down?”

M nodded and leaned back at once, exposing his flat belly and the fly to his pants.

Connor knelt down between M’s legs and closed his eyes for a second as arousal gripped him. He reached for M’s fly.

“I’m weird, aren’t I?” M asked.

“We don’t know why your having seizures though. It could be something simple,” Connor said, unbuttoning M’s pants and undoing the zipper. At the last minute, he realized he’d forgotten M’s shoes and he hurried to remove them. “Lift up,” he said, kicking the shoes aside for later. M arched his narrow hips and Connor removed his shorts.

Connor stared directly at M’s damp briefs, now. His eyes worried desperately over the neat little bulge between M’s firm inner thighs.

“These too,” he said, tugging on M’s waistband and the boy leaned back on the bed and arched his hips again to make it easier. Unconsciously, Connor started to breath a bit quicker. He tried not to look, but as he stripped M of his underwear, the blond’s plump package popped into view and he couldn’t help himself, he looked.

M had a heavy dark pink scrotum covered in platinum blond hair. His cock was unaroused, but it was circumcised and rested peacefully on top of his ballsack. Connor felt his mouth water as he checked out M’s fat cockhead, just sitting there, waiting to be tasted.

He shook his head. Where had that thought come from?!

He tore his gaze away and gently covered the boy’s groin with the towel. He soldiered on valiantly, ignoring the semi-hard erection in his pants, ignoring the intense longing that seeing M’s lovely cock and balls had started within him. He was burning up inside, but guilt hardened his resolve. He was going to take care of M’s wounds and that was it. He’d messed up too much already. He wasn’t going to confuse them both even further by jumping thoughtlessly on his insane desires.

M sat up again, toying with the bath towel. “Are you OK, Connor?” he asked and he peered down between his legs, looking at him with misplaced sympathy.

“Yeah,” Connor cleared his throat and started to get up. “Let me grab some supplies. I’ll be right back.” He left to get bandaids from the bathroom and when he returned, it was to find M exactly where he’d left him. He still looked dazed, but the color was coming back to his cheeks.

Connor knelt in front of him and gently cleaned his cuts. M hissed again, but he sat very still and let Connor do what was necessary. In minutes, everything was cleaned and bandaged. He taped M’s knees up with medical tape, as well.

“There,” he said, patting the boy on the shoulder. “All better.”

“Thanks Connor.”

“Just sit tight. I’ll grab you some clothes and then I’ve got to clean out the bathroom.”

“Ok,” M said. “So, seeing my own blood made me have a seizure?”

“I guess,” Connor said. “That’s not as strange as a knife or your first name making you pass out, though. Some people just can’t stand the sight of blood.”

He left M to ponder that and he went into the other room to grab something for him to change into. The boy flung the towel off as soon as he returned, but Connor simply tossed the clothes on the bed and fled the room. He headed to the bathroom to do the dirty work, completely resisting the temptation of the boy on his bed.

***

Connor went to work Saturday night, but before he did, he hid any knife that wasn’t for butter in a box high up in the hallway closet. Then he showed M how to make a sandwich if he got hungry.

M was becoming pretty capable. He knew how to use the bathroom. He could clean in the kitchen. He dressed himself and even combed his hair. He could use the TV remote and now he could make sandwiches…

The last thing he showed M was the time on the microwave. He explained that when it said 12:00, he would be home.

“That seems so far away! It says 3:35 now, and it has to go through all the numbers until 12?”

“Yep,” Connor said. “It’s 8 hours. If you take a nap, it won’t feel as long.”

“I’d feel weird sleeping without you here,” M said with a pout.

“Well, you’d better get used to it. I’ve got to work most nights and Hannah won’t be coming to entertain you anymore.”

“That’s fine,” M said instantly. “I’ll try reading my book. And I’ll watch some shows. Maybe I’ll try to figure out how to spell the words they’re saying.”

“That’d be a good idea,” Connor said. “Knowledge is power,” he joked.

But M beamed and seemed to take him very seriously.

Connor had to leave for work soon after. Saturday’s were usually busy and today was no exception. He worked his ass off completing orders with Josh and the rest of the crew. At the end of the night, he cashed out with a whopping 88 bucks!

He didn’t bother to deposit the cash, but before he went home he stopped at a nearby gas station for a fill up. That left him with $65. And he made plans to see his weed guy tomorrow. It had been a couple weeks since he’d gotten something to smoke. He was looking forward to it.

He rolled up to the trailer at the stroke of midnight and let himself in. M was half asleep on the couch, propped up on the armrest.

“Connor!” M cried, and he started to get up. Connor went to him first though and he sat on the other end of the couch, near the boy’s feet.

“How was your night?” Connor asked.

“Good. It was weird being alone, but I made a sandwich at 8:00 and I read the first part of my book.”

“That’s great,” Connor smiled.

“I started trying to spell some words I heard on TV too,” he said, and he rooted around under the couch before he returned with his notebook. He handed it over and Connor carefully checked the list of words M had attempted.

“Not bad,” he said. The words were simple 3 to 4 letter ones, but he’d done a great job on the majority of them. “Want to know which ones still need work?”

“Yes,” M sat up instantly, flipping around so he could look over Connor’s shoulder. The blond leaned attentively against his side and Connor felt warm inside. Useful. The night had been a good one and he was looking forward to smoking some good stuff in the morning. But until then, he could help M with his spelling.

***

The next day, he didn’t ask if M wanted to go for a run. He figured the kid’s knees were probably hurting him, but M asked if he could go anyway.

“We’ll walk again,” Connor said. “Until your knees heal up.”

M gave him a grateful smile and got into a t-shirt and the shorts Connor had washed for him yesterday.

They took another mile-long walk, talking about everything the surrounding forest had to offer. Connor was enjoying the company, much to his surprise. M was joyful and exuberant; he was happy to be alive.

Connor wasn’t one of those cheerful people. He usually thought people like M -- bubbly idiots who couldn’t keep to themselves -- were stupid motherfuckers.

But with M, he could barely wipe the smile off his face.

When they got home, Connor made them bowls of cereal and they ate and watched the news. It was getting close to noon and Connor figured Daryl would be up by now so when M took their bowls into the kitchen to wash up, Connor called his connect.

Daryl picked up after a few rings. “Yo, what’s up?”

“Hey, it’s Connor.”

“Cool, cool, I haven’t heard from you in minute. Were you looking for something?”

“Yeah. I’ve got 60 bucks.”

“Cool, man.” Daryl dissolved into a brief coughing fit and Connor pulled the phone from his ear.

Daryl did pretty much nothing besides sit around, watch TV, and smoke all day. He’d probably just rolled out of bed and did a wake and bake.

“Can I stop by in an hour?” Connor asked once the coughing had stopped. “I’m going to run to the store first, grab a couple things, but then I’ll be by.”

“Sounds good, my man. You know where I stay.”

“Yep.” Connor said and they said their goodbyes before he hung up. There were rarely any pleasantries exchanged with this guy. He wasn’t just about business, but he was used to people calling for one thing only. Weed.

“Who were you talking to?” M asked as he returned to the living room. Connor hadn’t noticed him finishing up.

“Just a friend,” he said.

M wrinkled his nose. “It wasn’t Hannah was it?”

“No. I’m going to the store to pick up a few more things for us to eat, and then I’m going to drop by this guy’s house to get something else. Think you’ll be alright on your own?”

M considered the question for a moment. “Can’t I come?”

“I’d take you to the store, but I don’t think you should met my friend. He’s kind of nervous around new people.”

“Oh.”

Connor smirked. He hadn’t been planning on having M smoke weed with him, but after the blood fest and yet another seizure, he kind of felt like M deserved the good feels. “I won’t be gone long,” he said.

“Then I’ll be fine,” M said, lifting his chin. He looked so stupidly responsible. It was pretty cute.

Connor got his money together, adding Hannah’s 40-dollar addition. He changed into some cargos shorts and finger-combed his short hair in the mirror.

As he looked at himself, Connor decided he was attractive. Hannah and M weren’t into him for no reason.

His jawline was strong and stubbled with dark hair. He’d have to shave later, but the shadow made him look hard and manly. Connor wasn’t totally hating his eyes today, either. They were bright blue, like the summer sky outside. He had pretty nice lips as well. M’s were fuller and pinker but Connor’s were soft and kissable. And of course there was his slim, yet muscular frame…

Feeling confident for a change, Connor put on the cologne Hannah had picked up for him last Christmas. She said it made him smell delicious.

He left the bathroom feeling like a stud. He checked on M and the sunny blond eyed him curiously, but didn’t say anything about his scent or appearance. Connor didn’t let that bother him though. What would M know about sex appeal?

***

Connor took a trip to the Dollar Store. It was a little further away than the overpriced supermarket he’d shopped at before, but it was much cheaper and smaller.

He grabbed a few items and checked out quickly. He felt a lot more comfortable knowing they’d be able to eat for the next few days and he loaded the shopping bags into the back seat of the Honda in good cheer. He left the shopping center and headed for Daryl’s next.

The half-black drug dealer lived in the same shitty apartments the shitty tippers and the asshole kids did; the ones who pranked him from time to time. Daryl’s crib was located in the brick buildings in the back of the allotment and Connor weaved the Honda down the backstreets. He had to slow to a crawl several times for kids darting across the road and then he had to come to a complete stop to let a haggard old lady with a shopping cart cross the street as well. Connor waited with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. The old lady reached the other side and he squealed the tires on the pavement as he lurched forwards again.

He finally got to Daryl’s building and parked in a spot in the back. This one actually required him to use the buzzer so he texted the dealer before he went in to give him a head’s up.

Connor didn’t feel like waiting for a reply. He jumped out of the car and headed around the side, slipping into the little foyer. He scanned the buzzers for Daryl’s name, then gave it a couple short pushes. He didn’t wait long before he heard the chime and could yank the door open. The stench of weed flooded out. Most of these cheap-ass apartments reeked of it.

He climbed three flights and soon, he reached Daryl’s door and gave it an impatient rap.

Daryl opened the door in a cloud of sticky smoke. “What’s up?” He started coughing again and Connor edged past him and got inside. Daryl closed up behind him and moved into the living room, his wheezing dying down.

Connor looked around the front room. The apartment was the same as he’d remembered it. Honestly, it hadn’t even been that long since he’d last been here. He just wasn’t buying weed every single weekend like most of Daryl’s customers.

The place was still decorated with band posters and pictures of half-naked girls. A gray and blue couch sat against the far left wall and a big TV housed in an elaborate entertainment center was across from that. The hallway to the kitchen and the bedrooms was next to it, but Connor had never gone past this first room.

“I’ve got 60 bucks,” he reminded the dealer and he took the cash out immediately.

Daryl was doing his best to channel the ghetto today. He was wearing a do-rag on his head and short dreads hung out from under it. The thin little dude took the money and glanced at the 20’s before he slipped them into the pocket of his baggy jeans. He rubbed his scraggly soul patch. “Ya know I’ve always got something good for you,” he said.

“Yeah,” Connor agreed.

“I got a new blend the other day. I’ll give you a quarter.”

“Sounds good.”

Daryl went down the hall; he usually did. Just as usual, Connor didn’t follow him. He went to sit on Daryl’s couch and glanced at the TV. It was ESPN or something. It was a bunch of suited preppy guys talking about an upcoming football game.

Boring.

Connor waited impatiently for Daryl’s return. He looked disinterestedly around the apartment, studying the Tupac poster next to the entertainment center. He wondered if Daryl was trying to look like him or something, because they were almost identical.

“Hey man, want to sample a little before I finish weighing it out?”

Connor turned to see the dealer’s head hanging around the corner and he shrugged. He’d yet to be disappointed in Daryl’s merchandise but a free sample was always appreciated.

“That’s what’s up,” Daryl said, cracking a grin. He emerged with a fat blunt, already lit and he came to sit on Connor’s other side.

“So, how’s it been, home boy?” Daryl asked. He took a hit and passed it along. He let the smoke out slowly, letting it billow around him.

Connor shrugged. “I’m still working at Pizza Hut. That’s about it.”

Daryl passed the blunt with a grunt. “I ordered from them the other day. Had my lady pick it up though.”

Connor carefully drew some smoke into his lungs, a bit disgusted to feel the dealer’s spit on the end of the blunt. But it was still free weed and he didn’t complain. Once he’d gotten his fill, he passed the blunt back.

“You know, I was thinking last night about starting my own grow site. I think I could double my profits if I didn’t have to buy from a larger vendor. And then you called.”

“Me?” Connor let the smoke out in order to talk. He was already feeling the floaty effects of the weed. It felt very nice.

“Yeah. You live out in the swamp, right? The building inspects this place every couple of months. It’s not worth the risk, growing my own shit.”

“Oh,” Connor said dumbly. He happily accepted the blunt back and took a second hit. He sucked it deep into lungs and held it there. The smoke simultaneously burned and tickled the back of his throat, but Connor dug his fingers into the knees of his cargo shorts and held on. This shit was pretty good.

“Well, if you like this blend, we could grow something even better I bet. Maybe we could be partners even. I mean, we worked on some bullshit science project once. In college. Maybe we could hammer out a deal where we both win.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to grow any weed,” Connor said. Music had started playing at some point, in the next apartment over. He hadn’t noticed it until now. The bass was deep and it met the rhythm of his beating heart. He blinked lazily at the Tupac imposter in front of him.

Daryl smirked at him. “Really? Well, suit yourself then. There’s a lot of places to grow besides the swamp. And a lot of people willing to make some money. That’s the truth, bro.”

Connor shrugged. “Sure. Whatever.”

They watched the ESPN show as they finished the blunt. Connor’s head began to feel floaty and the colors on the sports program became more vibrant. The weed was good. It was obviously time to go.

“You got my quarter?” Connor asked in a deep rumble.

“Let me go get it now,” Daryl said, then he slid off the couch and ambled into the back.

Connor only had to wait a few moments more. Daryl was mercifully quick. In less than 5 minutes, Connor was heading back to the parking lot with a baggie of green in his back pocket.

He got in the Honda and automatically checked the rearview mirror.

The apartments looked completely desolate. He remembered passing more than few people on his way in, but there was no one in sight now. With a furrowed brow Connor looked towards the courtyard situated between the apartment buildings. The little park was empty.

Where had the kids gone? And the people hanging out on the front stoops? The old lady with the shopping cart had all but vanished.

Paranoia started to claw at Connor’s insides. Something just felt… wrong.

Fuck, maybe it was just the weed, Connor thought and trying to shake the weird feeling, he threw the car into reverse and started to reverse. That’s when he spotted a solidarity figure on the edge of the courtyard and he jerked to a stop.

A man in a black suit stood totally still, hands at his sides, his face expressionless. He wore dark sunglasses and a black hat, as well, and Connor had to squint to make out any of his features.

Connor knew it was probably nothing but paranoia, but the guy looked exactly like the figure he’d seen a couple nights ago; the dark figure who had watched him make his last delivery.

“What the fuck?” Connor muttered, but he shook his head and told himself he was just imagining things. He backed from his parking space, keeping the man in black in his peripheral. He knew his imagination was going haywire right now, but he couldn’t help watching the man as he drove down the side street and turned away from the apartment building. Slowly, the guy slid out of sight and only then did Connor look away.

“Guy’s probably late for church,” Connor muttered to himself. Maybe he’d wanted a ride or something.

Connor took the winding street back to Spaulding and rounded another curve, feeling better as he put some distance between himself and the weird guy in black… but, wait… wasn’t that the man standing on the sidewalk ahead?

In the same black suit, dark sunglasses, and black hat, the same man from the courtyard stood just ahead and Connor drove past him, gawking, totally amazed at what he was seeing.

Connor whirled around and gazed over his shoulder at the man as the road took a gentle turn. He tried to get a better look at the man, but he didn’t turn his head or move at all, he faced the same direction stiff as a board, pale hands at his sides.

Connor felt goosebumps pop up on his exposed flesh. He turned back to the road just in time to avoid the curb, but it barely phased him. He was way too worried about the man who was apparently following him.

Connor kept an eye on the man in his rearview mirror as he made a right toward Spaulding. The man disappeared behind some shrubbery and Connor wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. Something was wrong. Nobody else was out, just the man in black. What the fuck was going on?

There was maybe 100 yard to go before he could get out of the apartments and Connor sped up a bit. There was one last apartment building ahead on the left and Connor took the turn at top speed.

“Fuck!” There, just in front of last apartment building was the man in black again!

Connor veered to the left and steered with little caution into the parking lot. He was shaking and he double parked without thinking. There was nobody around to see or care though. Just the man in black. Slowly, Connor turned and stared at the looming figure across the grassy yard.

The man in black didn’t turn in his direction or move in any way. It was like the other two times Connor had seen him. He faced the direction the car had been at moments before, on the road, when Connor had spotted him initially.

But the man in black had to have moved! Because that was the same guy! How had he managed to get in front of Connor, twice now, when he’d last seen him standing at his rear?!

“Ok, obviously that can’t be the same guy,” Connor said out loud to distract himself from his frantic breathing. But that was impossible! Because the man in black looked exactly the same as he had the past two times! The same suit, the same height, the same stance… Fuck! Even his skin was the same exact shade of pale, off-white.

He stared unblinkingly at the man for several long seconds. He waited for him to turn in his direction. For him to flex his hands, for him to do something! But he didn’t fucking move!

Connor wasn’t a pussy that got scared easily. But this was too fucking weird to be real. He yanked his phone out of his back pocket and took a couple pictures of the guy. He zoomed in, making the resulting photo grainy and smudgy. But he tried to get a better look at the his face…

Creeped out, he closed the camera app. The man was still standing there, unmoving and Connor suddenly felt the need for reassurance. He called the only person he knew would listen to him.

Hannah.

He waited through a couple series of rings. Impatient, keeping his eyes on the motionless man in black. When the ringing stopped abruptly, he listened for the girl’s cheerful voicemail to start up.

Harsh static blasted through the earpiece.

Connor yelped and threw the phone onto the passenger seat. “Damnit,” he muttered, rubbing his ear in pain. It was ringing now and the goosebumps had come back tenfold.

The static died down abruptly. And after a few terrified moments, Connor picked up his phone. The call had ended and the phone was back on its home screen. Connor dialed Hannah again glancing nervously at the man across the yard, only he was gone! Connor had literally seen him standing there seconds ago, but now he had completely vanished!

“Just leave me a quick message and I’ll call you the second I can!” Hannah’s familiar voicemail chimed, but Connor was twisting in his seat, searching for any sign of the man in black. Fuck, what if that guy was sneaking up on him right this second! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

“Hannah?” Connor bit his tongue and cursed under his breath. Leave a message, idiot! “Hannah,” he said again. “Something weird just happened. Can you call me?”

He hung up and tossed the phone back to the passenger seat. He started the Honda and tore out of the parking lot. He paused briefly at the stop sign at the end of the street, but it was a rolling stop. He just wanted to get the hell out of here.

Connor hurried home. He didn’t see any more creepy, unmoving men in suits on the way, luckily, but his knuckles were white from clenching the steering wheel. The goosebumps were gone, but Connor felt a foreboding sense of fear gnawing at him. It was like a dark cloud was hanging over him and he was just waiting for it to start pouring rain.

When he got back to the trailer, he did a quick check of his car, making sure he had everything he needed. He grabbed his phone and patted down his pockets, almost surprised when he felt the zip-lock of weed. He’d totally forgotten about that. He hurried to collect the grocery bags from the back and locked the car behind him. He jumped up to the porch, bags in one arm, keys and phone in the other and he banged on the door.

“M!”

There was no response. Connor gave the kid a moment to react, knocking again, calling his name. But the boy didn’t open the door.

Connor instantly felt his paranoia spike. He jangled the keyring as he rushed to open the door.

“M?” He dropped the keys and phone on top of the TV. The screen was blank and the blankets piled on the couch formed a nice little nest but there was no one in it. “M!” Connor dropped the groceries and started to look around frantically.

“Connor?” M poked his head out of the bathroom down the hallway. He rubbed his eyes wearily.

“What the hell! Didn’t you hear me calling you?” Connor asked, but instantly dropped his tone. The kid looked tired. He looked like he hadn’t even slept last night, which was ridiculous because Connor knew he had. They’d gone on a walk this morning and M had been all smiles and energy. “Where were you?” he asked as calmly as he could.

M chewed his pretty little bottom lip. “Someone was at the door.”

Connor’s stomach fell. “Who?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t answer it.”

Connor looked the boy over. His outfit was kind of ruffled. His hair was in the same shape as his clothes and his blond locks stuck up willy-nilly. “M, what happened?” he pressed.

The boy took a deep breath and walked past him. He went to sit on the couch, pushing the blankets to the side. He glanced nervously out the open door and Connor went to lock it. Then he turned on M, staring at him, silently willing him to speak.

It must have worked because M smoothed his hair down and without looking at Connor, he started speaking. “I was watching TV. Doing some more work with vocabulary and there was this loud knock on the door.”

Connor felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. “Did you see who was at the door?”

M nodded. “I peeked out the window. I thought maybe it was you. I thought you needed help. But it wasn’t you,” he said.

There was a long pause and Connor rapidly grew impatient. “What did you see?”

“A man I’ve never seen before. Dressed in black. He had a hat on and dark glasses.”

Connor’s heart started thumping like crazy. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“He must have seen me,” M said quickly. He finally looked up at Connor. His young face was full of worry. “He started banging on the door really loud and fast. He said he needed me to let him in.”

“You didn’t, right?”

“No!” M shook his head, his silky hair flying out of place again. “I ran to the bathroom and shut the door. But I could still hear him.” M pulled his feet up on the couch, wrapping his arms around his legs. He was fell quiet, apparently lost in thought.

But Connor was dying to know what had happened. “Then what?” he snapped.

“T-then he said a name. And that’s the last thing I remember.”

“A name?”

“I woke up on the bathroom floor and my head hurt. I guess I had another seizure.”

“What name?” Connor said intently.

M started rocking back and forth. His arms tight around his folded legs. His gaze slid away from Connor’s and he looked blankly towards the front door.

“Michael Thomas,” he said in a whisper and Connor blinked.

“That’s it. That’s your real name.”

M shook his head. “My name is M.”

Connor waved him off. “It must be your full name. Oh my god, these people know who you are for some reason.”

“These people?”

Connor shook his head. He didn’t want to explain his own encounter with the man in black. He didn’t want to scare M more.” Someone called me at work a few days ago. They were asking about you.”

“What did they want?” M’s gaze zeroed in on Connor. He looked scared, despite Connor’s attempt not to push him over the edge.

“I hung up before they could say much, but I thought it was weird that they knew my full name.”

“But… “ M hesitated. “But I’m not Michael Thomas.”

“Maybe you just don’t remember.”

“No,” M snapped. “I wouldn’t forget something like that!”

Connor looked at the kid. His face was slowly filling with color and his eyes weren’t as sleepy and dazed now. He was starting to look angry.

“You forgot how to eat,” Connor said carefully. “It makes perfect sense that you’d forget your name if you can’t even remember something rudimentary like eating.”

“I didn’t forget.” M said angrily. “I’ve never eaten before. There’s a difference!”

“What, were you tube fed your whole life?” Connor chuckled in an attempt to lighten the suddenly tense conversation.

“Something like that,” M said quickly. “Look, I told you I was new to the world. It’s not amnesia. I didn’t forget anything. I just can’t tell you certain things.”

Connor stared at M in shock, but the boy wasn’t looking at him. He was glaring at the door. At whoever had brought them a new piece to the puzzle.

“Can I call you Michael now? It doesn’t seem to affect you anymore.”

“No,” M said and a visible shiver took over his body for a moment. He closed his eyes and sucked in a few deep breaths. “Please. Just call me M.”

“Alright,” Connor said. But there was no way he was going to forget this had happened. Whoever these men in black were, Connor had a feeling they knew more than he did. Maybe even more than M did and Connor wasn’t about to run from the facts.

M was hiding something. And Connor wanted to know what.

Connor decided, the next time he was contacted by these weirdos in black, the next time he saw one of them, he was going to try and get some answers.

“Well. Ok.” Connor struggled to come up with a change in topic. If M didn’t want to talk, then fine. Connor definitely wasn’t in the mood to force him. “I got us some food. And some weed.”

“What is weed?”

Connor pulled the zip-lock bag from his back pocket and showed off the green stuff to the little blond.

“What is that?” M scrunched up his nose.

“It’s a dried plant you can smoke. It makes you feel good. And I think we both deserve it, after all that.”

M quirked an eyebrow.

“Trust me. I know what I’m talking about,” Connor laughed nervously. He stood in the middle of the living room, dangling a bag of weed for a couple seconds. And then he realized he was just standing there, trying not to think about all this crazy bullshit. Only one thing left to do at this point…

He went to grab his bong and lighter from the bedroom. Maybe getting high would serve more purpose than one. Maybe M would open up and tell him some of his secrets.

Maybe.

But honestly, Connor just wanted to stop the feeling of terror from growing any larger. He had a feeling something bad was happening. But he chose to ignore it for now.