Archive of Our Own

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Stifling air seemingly stuck to every fiber and molecule of Ryan’s being, cozying up and drowning him in a hot wetness that he had yet to get used to. Sweat droplets dripped down his back; at least what little back his shirt had not yet clung to. If he had to describe the consistency of the air, he would liken it to that of pea soup; warm, thick, and slightly sticky. He brushed a bit of hair behind his ear, having grown it out during the summer, just past his jaw. It seemed like a good idea at the time, however the dry, Nevada heat had nothing on the late summer weather of Georgia, humidity at an all-time high. He wore a pair of dark, baggy jeans, and a black shirt with Robert Smith on it. Ultimately, it was his fault that he was melting.Ryan swallowed thickly and glanced at his new, digital wrist watch, an early birthday present from his dad. His clock still read Nevada time; he hadn’t bothered to change it yet. However, after having taken this trip so many times before, Ryan easily added up the hours in his head to get the time in Georgia. It was around 11:30 in the morning. Ryan was jetlagged to hell, sweaty, and he just wanted to crawl into Rachel’s, Spencer’s aunt’s, car and enjoy the only air-conditioning he would get for four months for the two hours it would take to get to their school, just outside the surprisingly modern town of Red Creek. He’d only been waiting ten minutes, but unfortunately, he would probably be waiting longer. Rachel was notorious for being late to just about everything. Ryan didn’t mind too much, knowing that it was very likely they would stop for McDonald’s on the way. Ryan licked his chapped lips, a tug at the corner of his mouth, in anticipation of his vanilla milkshake and fries. Around 11:45, Rachel’s beige station wagon rolled up to the pick-up area of the airport, fifteen minutes after she said she would be there, but fifteen minutes before Ryan expected her to arrive. “Ryan, sweetheart, I am so sorry for being late.” Rachel said as she opened her door and rounded the front of the car towards Ryan. Ryan raised his hand and was about to tell her it wasn’t a problem, but he suddenly found himself enveloped in the soft, yet firm embrace of his friend’s aunt. It was comforting in a way that Ryan wasn’t used to. The most affection he usually got was pats on the back, maybe the ruffling of hair. His dad was awkward, and so was Ryan. Not Rachel, though. She had made it her mission to give everyone as much affection as possible, including Ryan. It just surprised Ryan that she still had so much affection to give him. Still, it felt good to be hugged by Rachel and so he embraced her back, bony arms giving their own firm hug. “It’s all good, Mrs. Jones.” Ryan said once he was released from the hug. Rachel huffed, shaking her head. “Now sweetheart, I tell you this every year, just call me Rachel. You’re practically my own nephew by now, what with all the Thanksgivings you’ve spent with us. Now go on Spencer, help Ryan with his bags. If we want to get to the school before the rush, we best hurry.”Ryan smiled as he saw Spencer, half hanging out of the car, trying hes best to avoid so much of the heat and humidity. Finally, though, he pulled himself fully out of the car and took a step towards Ryan. Ryan greeted Spencer by clapping his hand to Spencer’s and tugging him forward. Spencer clapped Ryan’s back and then took a step back and scanned Ryan, from his head to his shoes, but noticeably lingered on the hair. “You let it grow out.”Ryan tucked another strand behind his ear.“And you straightened it.”“Yeah. You know, going for the whole Kurt look.”Spencer smirked. “You look like a dork.”Ryan rolled his eyes and hit Spencer’s shoulder, no more than a friendly, light punch. Hair styled and brushed to the side, Spencer wasn’t allowed to grow his hair out like that, his mother’s orders, and what his mother said, his father enforced. He could call Ryan a dork.Spencer laughed and then helped Ryan put his suitcase and guitar case into the back of the car. Most of their things had already been shipped to the school prior to their arrival, Spencer himself only having a suitcase and small box. Ryan’s backpack, however, he kept with himself, sitting it on his lap as he climbed into the backseat with Spencer. Spencer’s aunt always said he could put in on the floorboard, swore it was clean, but Ryan always kept his bag with him. He liked to make sure it was secure. Having his bag on his lap made him feel secure.As they exited the airport, Rachel looked back at the boys through the rear-view mirror. “I can’t even believe it Ryan, you’re even more of a string bean now than you were last spring. I know boys grow, but you just keep going. And your hair! I loved your short hair, nice a curly, it made you look so handsome. I hope you aren’t turning into one of those hooligans that run through Atlanta now. Long hair, baggy clothes, just unbecoming. Your father is okay with this?”Ryan shrugged. “I don’t think he really cares. I stay out of trouble. That’s what he cares about.”Rachel gave a sigh and one last worried look before focusing on traffic. Spencer covered a smile and swallowed a giggle. Ryan smirked and gave Spencer’s shoulder a light shove. -They stopped at a McDonald’s before leaving Savannah, Rachel allowing the boys to sit at a table by themselves. As Ryan was just digging in to his milkshake and fries. After Spencer had taken a bite of his cheese burger (extra pickles, no onion), he spoke up. “I heard Brent’s not coming back.”Ryan nodded his head in affirmation, dipping his second fry into his milkshake and letting the cream drip onto his tongue before swallowing the whole thing. “Sucks man. You know who your new roommate is gonna be?”Ryan shook his head and stole a sip of Spencer’s coke, but then pulled a face when he tasted it. Diet. Spencer snickered at Ryan’s distaste and stole the soda back, taking another bite of his burger after taking a sip of his drink. “Hope he doesn’t suck.”Spencer stole a fry from Ryan and smirked. Ryan hoped his new roommate didn’t suck either. Brent had sent Ryan a letter during the summer telling him that he would be moving and that his parents had found a new school for him closer to their new home. For Ryan, getting that letter had really sucked. Brent was a chill dude and they had known each other since Ryan had started going to the school, had become roommates the next year. Brent was easygoing and quiet when Ryan needed him to be and was actually a great study partner for the classes they shared. This plus the fact that Ryan would be assigned a new roommate without his input made the situation doubly sucky. Ryan dreaded the thought of getting stuck with someone he didn’t know. Still, Ryan was also glad Brent had given him the heads up. If he hadn’t, then Brent would have sucked too. Soon they were hurried along back to the car for the long drive to the school. Ryan had been going there since he was twelve, had met Spencer his second year when Spencer had arrived as a second year. Ryan had already been friends with Brent and then when Ryan had entered the high school portion of the school, he met Jon, a boy a grade above them. He was cool because he was older and liked to break the rules. And there were other students, too, who sometimes intermingled with the group, like William “William, Bill, but never Will” Beckett and his little follower Adam “Sisky” Siska, but for the most part, it had just been the four of them.Then it was only the three of them. They arrived around 3:30 in the afternoon, along with dozens of other students. Ryan liked the long driveway up to the school. A nice paved road up a hill, lined by trees and Spanish moss. Well, the Spanish Moss kind of creeped him out, but still, the drive was nice. Fitting the car into the long drive in front of the school was a difficult feat, as dozens of other parents had also parked their cars along the front, but it was one Rachel seemed to manage with ease. The boys grabbed their bags and boxes and headed inside with Rachel to check in. It was crowded in the front entrance of the school, a little desk set up with a woman, someone from the Student Affairs office, checking the students in from a stack of papers, each boys name and year written down. That and large stacks of folders sitting neatly on the ground by her feet, holding the Welcome Week’s activity list as well as a handy planner for each student who checks in. There was a banner hanging above the table, homemade, black and blue with an alligator painted in the middle, an obvious creation of the student council who had arrived at the school a week ahead of everyone else. They were shuffled into line and then shuffled off to their dorms, Rachel hugging them goodbye, twice, and saying how she couldn’t wait to have both of them in her home on Thanksgiving. Ryan and Spencer both made their way to the dorms behind the school, dragging suitcases behind them on the cobbled path (“I get that it looks cool, but c’mon, the wheels on my suitcase don’t really appreciate it” Spencer complained) and somehow managing not to spill their extra cargo, Ryan straining his muscles as he held his guitar high enough not to drag it on the ground, and Spencer somehow managing to carry the medium sized box with one arm.Ryan managed to swing open the front door to the Emerson dorm. The other dorm to the left, Sullivan, was for lower classmen, grades seven to nine. Emerson housed the upper classmen, grades ten to twelve. Both dorms were named after the families of students who had once gone to the school and later donated hefty enough sums that made the school name a dorm building after them. Not many boys were milling about. Most were probably in other parts of campus or, more likely, still in the nearby town with their parents before they leave their children here for good (or at least until Thanksgiving). The entryway lead into a hallway with bedrooms on both sides. Walls were carved out of wood paneling, not too extravagant, but nice enough to show that this was a classy institute for classy boys. The rooms were much less classy, and Ryan often likened them to the rooms in insane asylums; stark white walls with piping coming out of the walls towards the high ceilings. Wooden floors that managed to give Ryan splinters at least once a semester. Big heavy doors that were, for some reason, painted a deep, dark green and honestly just looked out of place. Quite bare and lacking a personality other than “vaguely unsettling.” Ryan and Spencer even had to bring their own lamps; the rooms weren’t equipped with any light source at all. “At least we’re not on the ground floor this year.” Ryan said as he started up the, steep, narrow wooden staircase at the end of the hall, carefully maneuvering his guitar case so as not to bang it into the walls or corners. Sure, it was a hard case, but his baby was delicate. He wasn’t about to go making any holes that his guitar didn’t need. “Sure, if you don’t mind trekking up a flight of stairs to reach the second floor every day.” Spencer huffed. Ryan smirked as the box was starting to cause some difficulty in maneuvering. In all honesty, they could have taken the large service elevator that the movers used when moving in large boxes or other things, but both Spencer and Ryan agreed, that elevator was way too creepy. It moved too slow, looked dirty, and had a weird smell in it, like it had never been aired out. If given the choice, they’ll choose the narrow staircase any day. Finally, they made it to their floor, the one that housed all seventy or so odd Juniors. Each floor of the dorms could hold about seventy students, though 60 was the average class size. Spencer and Ryan looked down the long hallway. There were more boys in their hall, unpacking their things and catching up with old friends; talking about their summers and their plans for the school year. Ryan looked at Spencer.“Which room were you assigned this year?”Spencer held up a finger, then set his box down on the floor before taking off his backpack and swinging it around. He unzipped it and then began digging into the bag. Within seconds he pulled out his folder he got at the Welcome Desk and perused through it before coming to the page he needed. “I got 206.”Ryan sighed.“Damn, I got 234. I’ll be on the other fucking side.”“Sucks to suck.”“Oh whatever.”Ryan began making his way to the other side of the dorm as Spencer quickly found his own room and was about to open the door.“Hey, see you at Jon’s room in an hour?” Spencer called before Ryan got too far away. Ryan turned back and gave a thumbs up before setting off once again towards the other end of the hall. When Brent had told Ryan he wouldn’t be coming back, Ryan had considered asking Spencer if he wanted to room with him, but thought better of it. His and Spencer’s personalities would have clashed so hard if they were roommates. Ryan was kind of a slob and didn’t worry too much about room inspection. Spencer was a bit of a neat freak and would not have permitted Ryan’s natural messiness. Spencer also liked to go to sleep at a normal hour and wake up at a normal hour. Ryan was kind of a night owl, but also an early riser. He usually got only five or six hours of sleep a night, though it wasn’t totally up to him. He couldn’t help how he slept. But Spencer was a light sleeper, and probably would have killed Ryan if Ryan woke him up too many times. Brian, Spencer’s current roommate, was perfect for Spencer. Ryan wasn’t about to break up a good roommate pair.Ryan made his way down the hall, cramped by boxes and people. Even with his guitar case and suitcase, he maneuvered well enough through the bodies and boxes, saying ‘hi’ every so often to a familiar face. His room was at the end of the hall, right next to a big window that would let you look out into the garden next to the dorms. He glanced out and saw some boys and their parents out there, sitting on the benches next to the fountain, or walking around the flowers and bushes. Ryan liked the garden, liked the little old black man, Mr. Thomas, who took care of it. Kids liked to joke that Mr. Thomas had been at the school for as long as the school had been here. Ryan liked to talk to Mr. Thomas; the old man let him ramble as much as he wanted to. Ryan also liked to hear Mr. Thomas’ stories. The man had a million of them because, while he wasn’t as old as the school, he was pretty old. In Ryan’s eyes, Mr. Thomas had seen everything. Ryan turned towards his room and opened the door. He was happy to find it devoid of any persons, just boxes on the beds and the floor, names written on them so that the first roommate to arrive would know which boxes were his and which weren’t. The room was average; two beds, two desks at the ends of the beds. There was a window on the opposite wall, between the beds, and a little desk where someone could put a lamp. Once Ryan had entered, he sent his things down, shrugging off his backpack and gently laying his guitar case on the floor. He found his boxes were put on the left side of the room, and so Ryan claimed that side for his own. He shoved a few of his boxes over, making enough room on his bed to place his suitcase and to start sorting through his clothes. Each room had two closets on the same side of the room as the door that led into the hallway. Ryan first took out all his clothes hangers from his suitcase and then started putting clothes on hangers, doing that back and forth dance between his bed and his closet to hang all his clothes. He was done within ten minutes. He neatly placed his suitcase in the corner of his closet, right next to all three pairs of shoes he had. Now was time to do the unboxing. The first box he opened was, of course, the one that had “Open First” scrawled onto it in sharpie. Ryan ripped off the tape and opened the box, spying the prize that had made him write open first onto this box. His red radio, not cordless, but still cool, was sitting write on top of everything else. He pulled it and quickly sat it on his desk before squatting down to plug the little radio into the wall. As the little box buzzed to life, spitting static sound, Ryan turned the knob to a radio station he had begun to thoroughly enjoy last year when he had first gotten the radio. Finally, he heard music and news filter through and soon enough he was on his favorite local station (also the only one he listened to there.) Music poured through and the song that was playing had already become one of Ryan’s favorites over the summer.“…not looking for absolution, forgiveness for the things I do...”Ryan hummed along as he turned the sound on the radio up and walked back towards his bed, taking the next item out of his box, a plastic bag of bedding. He started shifting the boxes and lifting them all off the mattress, so he could make it; probably the one time before Thanksgiving that his bed would be fitted with clean sheets.He had a foam mattress pad, as the mattresses at the school were thin and the feeling of laying on them was akin to the feeling of laying on the wood floor; stiff and just plain uncomfortable. His sheets were plain and white, and Ryan was fine with that. They were bed sheets, what did it matter what color they were? His comforter was a dark blue, and thick. Though it would spend much of its time until November folded up at the end of his bed, he looked forward to the days when he would be able to bury himself into it, blocking out the rest of the world. Ryan is only slightly embarrassed by the fact that he has four pillows. He’s tried sleeping with just two, but he’s found it an impossibility, and sleeping with an odd number of pillows is, well, it’s just odd. Four has been his magic number since he was nine years old, and he’ll be damned if he lets embarrassment sacrifice him his comfort, especially when he’s sleeping. As he smoothed out his sheets, comforter folded neatly at the end of the bed, Ryan hummed along to the current song playing on his radio as he hefted up his next box, one with his lamp and a couple of his favorite books, ones he knew he wouldn’t find in their school library. Sure, the school was a little more liberal than a lot of the religious schools in the area, but even St. Anthony’s has standards. He pulls out well-worn copies of Naked Lunch, On the Road, Go Ask Alice, Brave New World, and a couple of others. Arms full, he heads towards his closet, opens the door, and stashes his book in a dark corner where most people wouldn’t think to look. Ryan wasn’t about to have his favorite books confiscated during a surprise room check. Who knows if he would ever actually get them back. He closes his closet door and walks back towards his bed, humming along to radio. He takes his lamp and puts it on the desk between the beds, plugging it in and turning the switch to make sure the bulb was still functioning. Satisfied, he turned it off and turned back to his bed. The first box now empty, he takes the rest of the tape off, flattens the box, and stores it under the bed, ready to take it to the basement tomorrow to recycle it. He picked up another box off the floor, this one lighter than his book and lamp filled box. Ripping off the tape, Ryan notes that he packed this box with more miscellaneous things, like pencils and, a few personal notebooks, an old coffee mug, and a stack of polaroid pictures along with his ugly, yellow polaroid camera; last year’s early birthday gift before going to school. He pulls out his camera first, setting it on his desk. Then his pictures and his mug. The Smiths are playing, and Ryan sings along, as he starts gathering his pens and pencils from the bottom of the box.“…exactly do you mean? See I’ve already waited too long and all my hope is gone…”His door was opened at that moment and Ryan was startled out of his duet with Morrissey. Three people, a man, a woman, and a boy who Ryan is going to guess is their son, are standing in his door, staring back at him as Morrissey’s voice fades out and the radio announcer begins to speak. Ryan glances at his radio, then back at the family and then reaches for his radio and turns it off. He the turns and faces the family, the air electric with an awkward hum. So, this was his new roommate. Ryan took a moment to look at the other boy. He had short dark hair that looked like it had been just cut; it was still at that awkward, freshly cut look that most fresh haircuts were before they’d grown out a little. He had a large nose and thick lips that he hadn’t quite grown into, which made sense looking at the woman beside him. She definitely wasn’t white, but Ryan wasn’t sure what she was. The man on the boys’ other side was unremarkable looking, graying, dark hair styled conservatively, dress pants and a white button up with the top button undone. He was holding his jacket, folded, by his side. He was broad, but not fat. His face was blank, brown eyes, staring down the whole room with mild disinterest.The boy was wearing a white, short sleeve button-up and a pair of khaki pants along with a pair of brown dress shoes. He had on a pair of dark, thick rimmed glasses and behind them were dark eyes, matching the woman’s own. The first thing Ryan noted to himself was that the boy looked soft and compact, a contrast to Ryan’s own gangly, awkwardly skinny body. The woman was the first to break the silence, which Ryan was thankful for. He certainly wasn’t going to be the one to break it. She steps forward and reaches out her hand, an enthusiastic and hopeful smile on her tanned face. Ryan shook her hand, her grip firm and confident. She herself was wearing a pair of dark pants and white button up, tucked in, a pair of dark, kitten heeled boots on her feet. Her hair was cut short, but it fit her. “Hello! It’s nice to meet you. My name’s Grace Urie and this is my husband, Boyd. And this is our son, Brendon.”She finishes by pushing her son, Brendon, forwards. Brendon himself, looked back at his mom, before quickly whipping his head forward, facing Ryan. His arm shot out, obviously to shake Ryan’s hand. Brendon’s handshake is less sure, with a weak grip. His palms are sweaty. Ryan would have guessed it was because Brendon was nervous, but it was also likely that the heat got to him outside. “It’s really nice to meet you!”Brendon basically shouted this at Ryan and then looked embarrassed about shouting at Ryan. Ryan felt bad for the kid. If Ryan felt awkward, he could only imagine how awkward Brendon was feeling. “It’s, uh, it’s nice to meet you too, Brendon.” Ryan said, voice steady. He looked back towards the beds. “I hope you don’t mind; I just took the bed that my stuff was on.”Brendon shook his head, animatedly. Anxious energy buzzed through Brendon and it was like every little movement released more of it into the room.“Not a problem, I’m fine with either bed, you know? I mean, it’s not even like there’s much of a difference really, cause the window is right between us and the sides are pretty identical, like it’s just the right side or the left side and I guess that would matter if I liked sleeping on a certain side, but also liked facing the wall, but it’s okay, because I don’t, so everything-““Brendon.”Brendon’s mother had touched his shoulder, and said his name quietly, not meanly, but more like a way to make him aware of how much he was talking. His father looked mildly annoyed, ready to go, but didn’t say anything.Brendon was, again, back to looking embarrassed and like he was still silently buzzing with nervous energy. Ryan decided it had become uncomfortable enough that it was time for him to go. “Hey, I’m just going to, uh, go find some of my friends. I’ll get you for dinner Brendon, okay? Show you the way around the place and everything.”Ryan ducked out before another word could be said. Now he was buzzing with nervous, awkward energy. He headed towards the side staircase right beside his room, heading up the stairs towards the senior floor. There’s a few people around, but Ryan didn’t really pay attention as he ducked down a side hall, better known as Senior Wing. It was a side hall that had rooms for those special seniors who managed to have the best room scores from all the previous years. They were rewarded with single rooms instead of being forced to share a room. Ryan wasn’t sure how it happened, but Jon had managed to get a perfect score during every room check. He checks the name tags on the doors, graciously put up by student council members, and finds Jon’s room near the end of the hall. He knocks on the door as a warning and then enters, turning the knob and opening into a room that looked like it’d been hit by a tornado, with a newly buzzed-cut Jon in the middle of the mess, sifting his things out of his boxes, his suitcase seeming have exploded all over his bed. Jon has head turned towards the door and smiles as he sees Ryan. “I wondered where all my hair went. Nice to see it has a good home.”Ryan gave him the middle finger and then shut the door behind him, standing in the only clean space of floor in the whole room. “Dude...your room is a fucking mess.”Jon got off the floor, looking around his room, seemingly cataloguing each scattered poster, carelessly tossed book, the nest of clothes on his bed, and his assortment of school notebooks, text books, pencils, and pens that have fallen in various places around the room. “Dude…I know.”Jon laughed, shaking his head. Ryan did the same; Jon’s room was like this at the beginning of every semester, when he first moved back in. Ryan and Spencer had theorized that Jon is the type of person who can only create order out of chaos; thus his room. Jon turned to his bed, pushing his clothes back and clearing a spot for Ryan to sit on. Well, at least the bed was made. Ryan carefully walked through his room, hopping at points so as not to step on anything. Jon took a seat on his desk, feet in his desk chair. He turned and began to fiddle with the radio that sat on his desk. Almost all the rooms had at least one radio brought by a student; it was maddening to live in the silence. Jon fiddled with the dial and Ryan knew he was going to be disappointed with the station, the slight annoyance already settling within him. Jon made a happy sound as he settled on what Ryan knew was his favorite local station. “…through life with my glasses blurred. It’s like that, and that’s the way it is…”Jon nodded his head along to the rhythm as Ryan rolled his eyes. “Jon Walker, you convince me more and more that your mother stole you out of a stroller from Compton.”Jon laughed and shook his head. “It’s a unifying genre, Ross. Hip-hop is the future; everyone can and will enjoy it, just you wait. Plus, it’s my room. I get to play my tunes.”“The fact that you just said ‘tunes’ should automatically revoke your…hip-hop card, or whatever.”Jon laughed and shook his head, and Ryan laughed along with him. He was so glad to be back.-“So, Brent ditched and now you have a new roomie?” Jon said, packing a bowl next to his open window. Ryan thinks it’s a little early (and a little too light out) to be toking up, but Jon does as Jon does. Besides, Ryan knew he would still have more tomorrow to share, as friends do.“Yeah.” Ryan answered, picking at a piece of skin around his fingernail. He knew if he kept picking at it, it was going to bleed, probably sting. He picked at it anyway. “He seems…kind of wired. Nervous wired. And his parents were...nice I guess, but kind of weird too. And dorky. He looked like he was going to youth group or something.”Ryan tears the bit of skin and squints. It did sting and it was bleeding. He sucked on it before regaling Jon more about his new roommate. “His mom was nice, but it was like she was desperate to seem as inviting as possible. His dad was quiet, he didn’t say anything, just kind of looked like he didn’t want to be there.”Jon nodded, taking a hit and holding it in for about ten seconds before blowing the smoke out the window. Ryan was jealous of Jon’s smoking capabilities. He always choked when he smoked. Jon didn’t even cough. “Oh, and his mom, she’s not white. She kind of looks kind of Asian.”Jon hummed as he took another hit. “Never had an Asian kid before. Could be interesting.”Ryan nodded. They had only ever had one black kid, and he had graduated years ago. Him, along with a few Hispanic kids scattered in and that was about as diverse as their school got. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, Jon smoking and Ryan sitting in not-so-deep contemplation. A knock at the door woke them from their personal stupors. Jon got ready to quickly stash his bowl below the outside window sill, just in case. “It’s Spencer.” the disembodied voice called from the other side of the door. Jon sighed in relief and Ryan told Spencer to come on in. Spencer entered the bedroom and quickly closed the door. “Dude, seriously? It isn’t even five, couldn’t you have waited until after dinner?”Jon smirked, lighting up his bowl once more. Ryan scooted over on the bed, making room for Spencer. “Ryan has just been telling me the fascinating tale of his new, nerdy, and exotic roommate.”“Oh yeah?” Spencer said, quirking an eyebrow. “So, what’s he like?”Ryan tells Spencer the same thing he told Jon, about Brendon and about his parents. Spencer nods and looks like he’s contemplating what Ryan is telling him, which is what he often does. “So, do you think he’s okay to hang?” Spencer asked after a moment. Ryan looked forward and then leaned back on his hands. “I don’t know. Probably. He’s probably better when his parents aren’t around. He’s not a dick or anything. I think he’s just, like, shy. He’s probably cool.”Spencer smiled and nodded. “Cool” he said and scooted back more on to the bed, leaning against the wall. For the next hour, all the boys talk about their summers. Jon stayed in Chicago and mostly hung out with his girlfriend, Cassie. He regaled sexy tales of alone time in his apartment, while his mother was at work. Of course, sexy times quickly turned to sweaty times when the air-conditioner gave up the ghost halfway through July.“It wasn’t the heat, it was the humidity.” Jon insisted. Then it was laying in bed in their underwear with the fan trained on them, doing their best not to touch each other.Spencer cracked a joke about Jon being careful – he wouldn’t want tiny Walkers running around before he finished high school. Ryan stifled a laugh, just imagining Jon trying to take care of a living, breathing human. “No way, man.” Jon said, taking a hit. “She’s on The Pill. No baby Walkers yet.”Ryan was amazed they were still together, three years strong even though for most of the year they were apart. They did write letters to each other though, Cassie insisted. It wasn’t a secret that Jon loved getting letters, presents, whatever, from his girlfriend. Any day he got something from Cassie, he’d be on cloud nine and absolutely nothing could bring him down. Spencer had spent most of the summer with his cousins in the Outer Banks, working at his uncle’s restaurant. While being a waiter had sucked, he loved being able to go the beach every day and living like a local. His favorite place to hang was this bookstore, with books stacked floor to ceiling. After a day of work, he and his cousins would head out onto the beach for the afternoon and mess around in the waves or go on the sound side to get away from the tourists and just relax. At night they would go to this ice cream parlor to get a cone and then go to the pier to watch and talk to the fisherman. Spencer swears up and down that he saw guys catch sharks, though not like big sharks, just these small ones. He also told Ryan and Jon about his summer fling as well, with a local girl he met at the bookstore. Though he would not name names, he did say, “Sex on the beach sucks. Sand gets fucking everywhere.” The guys howled with laughter and congratulated Spencer on a summer well spent. Ryan, himself, spent his summer in Nevada, hanging out with his dad. They had managed to fix up a semi-old, not quite junker during June and Ryan was gifted the car once it had been okayed by a mechanic and had passed his father’s own, personal safety inspection. Ryan would drive out into the desert at night when his dad went to work. He would write or smoke or just look at the stars. “Take any girls out there? Heard it gets cold in the desert at night. Maybe some cuddling, some, you know…” Jon waggled his eyebrows and Spencer smirked. Ryan shook his head and laughed.“No, no, nothing like that.” Ryan giggled some more at Jon’s ridiculousness. Jon sighed, leaning back against the wall, still sitting on his desk. “Dude, I’m waiting for you to turn into the heartbreaker that I know you are. I need to listen to stories of the woes of the heartbroken girls dismissed by the dashing Ryan Ross.” Jon said, dramatically clutching his chest like he himself was a fair maiden who had fallen for Ryan. “I’m just waiting for the alumni to spring for air-conditioning. I’m sick of fountains and additions to the library.” Spencer half-heartedly lamented from his place on the bed. This started another laughing fit from Ryan and Jon, the abruptness of Spencer’s statement catching them off-guard. Spencer soon joined them, the laughter infectious between the close friends. Soon they quieted down, wheezing and catching their breaths. Ryan rubbed circles into his left hand. “You know, actually, um, two weeks ago, dad hit his six-month mark.”The boys went quiet. They understood the seriousness of what Ryan had just told them. Both Jon and Spencer had been there when Ryan had been pulled out for two weeks last January when his father had ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. The alcohol poisoning had led to the doctors finding out that Mr. Ross’ liver was in bad shape. Those two weeks was Ryan being petrified that his father was going to die. Ryan had practically lived at the hospital for the first few days, barely leaving his father’s bedside. His mother had flown in from Tampa on the fourth day and had forced Ryan to go back home so he could get a shower and some decent sleep. Then his hospital visits had been highly regulated. In those two weeks he and his mother spoke maybe ten words to each other. She was just there to make sure he didn’t become a semi-permanent fixture at the hospital. And just in case. Just in case Mr. Ross became fully handicapped. Just in case they needed to put Mr. Ross on the transplant list. Just in case he didn’t make it. She had a whole other family in Tampa, but she was there with him, just in case. Her cooking still sucked.Once his father had cleared the danger zone, though, his mother had left, and his father had sent Ryan straight back to school. For a month straight Ryan had walked around like a zombie, consumed with worry that he was going to get pulled out of class again, pulled into the head master’s office to be given much more devastating and final news. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, just couldn’t function. Two of the school nurses would let him skip class and hang around their office. They helped distract him. Without Jon, Spencer, or Brent, he didn’t know if he could have made it through. Spencer helped him with his work (sometimes did his work), Jon made sure Ryan ate (thanks to sweet, understanding Mary Jane), and Brent wouldn’t go to sleep until he was sure Ryan had fallen asleep. They all knew the weight of his father’s sobriety. It was hope that Ryan desperately needed. His father was trying and all throughout the summer he had done so well. The first two weeks back home, Ryan’s dad swore up and down that the hospital visit had been a wakeup call. The doctors obviously couldn’t fix the damage he had already done to his liver, but he didn’t need to destroy it further. He quit drinking cold turkey after detoxing in the hospital. He threw out any alcohol he found, had searched in every nook and cranny. He told all his friends to make sure he didn’t drink. He told his friends wives to also make sure he didn’t drink. He went to AA once a week. Ryan was even surprised that his father had totally changed his diet, eating foods he claimed were great for liver health. He started going to the gym twice a week. He also started doing things with Ryan. Sundays and Thursdays Mr. Ross didn’t work, so those were their own Father-Son days. Mr. Ross always had something planned. A lot of those days were spent fixing Ryan’s junker. A half dozen or so of them were movie days where he and his dad would go see the latest summer blockbuster. And many, many days were them getting up at the crack of dawn and travelling all over Nevada seeing “The Natural Beauty and Wonder of The State”. They visited numerous canyons, camped at Lake Tahoe, and hiked in Great Basin National Park. They saw the capital, went to a historical lodge, and even went to the Hoover Dam. Ryan was sure they had seen everything they actually could in Nevada that summer. It had been his best summer ever. “Dude, that’s really great.” Jon said, grinning wide, ear to ear. Spencer nodded, rubbing Ryan’s shoulder in congratulations. Ryan nodded and smiled too. The summer had been amazing. It was being away from his father that he was worried about. He knew about relapse rates, the doctors had told him, and they didn’t sugarcoat it. He didn’t want his father to be another statistic. Ryan pushed the worry back, though. Right now, he would feel proud and happy.Ryan glanced down at his wrist watch and figured out that it was 5:45. Dinner had started fifteen minutes ago.“Dudes, it’s dinner time. We better go, or else all the good stuff is going to be gone.”Ryan and Spencer hop off the bed and Jon empties the remnants of his pot into a small baggie, which he would, discreetly, get rid of later. They left the room, Jon twisting the switch on his lamp to turn the light off and headed down the hall to the staircase. They tumbled down the stairs, talking about what they would be gorging themselves on at dinner. It was only at the bottom step the Ryan suddenly realized he had forgotten all about Brendon. “Shit.” He muttered to himself and turned around to run back up the stairs. “I told Brendon I’d grab him for dinner. Go on, I’ll meet you at the dining hall.” He didn’t wait for a response as he launched himself up the stairs, taking two steps at a time up the steep steps. Once he had reached the top of the stairs he ran down the hall, past a couple of stragglers, to his own room. He didn’t bother knocking, instead, throwing the door open. His lamp was on and Brendon was on his own bed, decked out in his dress pants and blazer, their school uniform. He was rubbing his eyes, and even in the dim light, Ryan could see what was going on. He wasn’t stupid. Ryan shut the door behind him, taking half a step into the room. He doesn’t look at Brendon, instead opting for the floor under his own bed, seeing the boxes still unopened or half-filled with junk of his. He really needs to finish unpacking. “You, um, you don’t have to wear the uniform when it’s not class time. Just, like, regular clothes will, um, do.”He can see Brendon shift on the bed from the corner of his eye. He glances over only to be met with Brendon’s eyes. Ryan quickly averts his gaze, back to his boxes. He lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. He was never good at comforting people. Too socially awkward. “I get it, you know? It really sucks, like uh, the first night you’re here. Cause, you don’t know anybody. Especially since you’re, like, kind of a late comer. But, like, it’s all cool, you know? Cause the guys here, they’re all pretty chill. And like, you can hang with me and my friends. We’re all pretty chill.”There was a beat of silence and Ryan congratulated himself for not stuttering. “It’s dinner time. You should get changed. I’ll wait outside.”Ryan beat a hasty retreat out the door and managed not to slam it while closing it. He hated talking with strangers. Not that Brendon seemed bad or anything. He just hated talking to people he didn’t know. He was also really bad at comforting others, even friends. He was great with writing, all his teachers said so, but he was just no good at speaking out loud. Ryan once again pondered the idea of becoming a mute. It seems like a good life. A nice lack of oral communication. He saw the door knob turn and heard the squeak of the hinges. Brendon came out, wearing a pair of cargo pants and a white polo shirt. Still dorky, but definitely not as dorky as he looked this afternoon. At least now he didn’t look like he was going to church. “Come on, let’s go.” Ryan says, walking down the hall. It’s empty now, all the other boys most likely in the dining hall. Brendon was just a step behind him, quiet. The silence made Ryan feel awkward. He wouldn’t say it was an awkward silence, but Ryan was definitely not comfortable. “The food’s like, really good tonight.” Ryan said as they reached the top of the staircase down the hall. He was trying to fill a quiet he had decided he did not like. “It’s cause it’s the Welcome Night, so it’s a special dinner. We’ll have another one near Thanksgiving and one on the last night before Christmas vacation.”They reached the bottom of the stairs and Ryan opened the side door of the building, stepping out. It was still light out. The sun wouldn’t set until sometime around 8:00. It was only a little until 6:00. They headed for the main building.“Dinner around Halloween is cool. Mostly normal, but we, like, get to dress up and stuff and, uh, they do this thing where we can Trick-or-Treat at, like, the teacher’s houses on campus. It’s pretty sweet. You get good hauls and, like, we do whole floors of candy trading and shit. And, uh, Easter dinner is really good too. It’s dress up and stuff and, like, before dinner, we have church for, like, an hour, but the dinner and dessert are really good, so it’s totally worth it.”Ryan realized that he was probably making himself sound like a pig to Brendon, talking only of the food they got at the school. He shut his mouth and they walked the rest of the way in silence. They went through the back entrance of the main building into the lobby area where all the students checked in that day. The banner was still up, but the table was now folded up and leaning against a wall, waiting for one of the cleaning people to take it away until it would, once again, be used. Ryan lead them towards the right, down a long hallway. They passed by offices, where administrative staff worked. He knew them all by name, Miss Lisa, Miss Rachel, Mr. Smith, Mr. Daniels, Mrs. Judd. They all knew him too. They knew everybody; it was their job. After that, they passed the nurses station. Ryan peaked in and saw Nurse Payne was manning the station. He was always amused by how ironic her name was, especially considering that she was the coolest nurse there; she was very laidback with the students and would talk with them about any of their problems. Ryan was fairly certain he would have gone crazy if she hadn’t been there. He made a mental note to swing by within the next few days and have a chat with her.After the nurse’s station, they walked only a few more steps until they were in the dining hall. It was huge and buzzing with students getting food and meeting up with friends. Food was served buffet style with a wide selection of what they could eat. Ryan figured he could let Brendon explore the food on his own. He turned towards Brendon, saw the other boy taking in everything, but only looking slightly overwhelmed. “Just get whatever you want and then come find me. Me and my friends usually sit next to the windows on the left side, kind of towards the back. I’ll pull up a chair for you.”And then Ryan left him, went to get his own food. He pushed through the lines and grabbed a plate, immediately heaping it with chicken, green beans, mac-and-cheese, and two dinner rolls. He headed towards the dessert counter and grabbed a smaller plate, piling it with lemon squares that he craved. He then went to find his table, planning on dropping his food off before going back in to get some sweet tea. He had a lot of complaints about his school, but he would always be grateful for their sweet tea.It was easy to spot Jon and Spencer, sitting at the table they usually sat at. He strolled over and sat his plates down.“Brendon’s gonna sit with us, okay? Don’t be jackasses.”Jon gave a fake gasp.“Ross!” he exclaimed, hand over his heart. “I would never act like a complete dick in front of your new roommate. Who do you take me for?”Ryan rolled his eyes as Spencer threw back his head and laughed, Jon joining him. Ryan walked back towards the food to get his glass of sweet tea. As he was pouring it from a pitcher where all the drinks were, being carefully watched by one of the kitchen ladies, he looked around and spotted Brendon still getting his food. At least he wasn’t still standing at the entrance of the dining hall. Ryan figured he would be okay. He pushed his way through the crowd, back to his own table. He listened to the dull roar of the voices in the dining room with happy familiarity. He knew that most kids hated school, but for him, and most of the boys here, school was great. He got to hang out with his friends all the time, no bullies were skulking around, and he actually felt challenged in his classes. Contrary to popular belief, Ryan did like being so far from home. Sure he was worried about his dad, but their weekly phone calls would make sure he kept tabs on him. Besides his dad, he didn’t like his hometown. Vegas sucked when you were under twenty-one; then it was just desert. So yeah, Ryan loved going to school and didn’t like thinking about how, in two years, it would be over. Sometimes he wished he could stay forever. He got to his table and put his drink down, Jon and Spencer digging into their food, eating like pigs. Ryan joined them in their piggish behavior, shoveling in a mix of mac-and-cheese and green beans, savoring the buttery, cheesy, fatty goodness. “Did you guys see Barnard?” Jon questioned, washing down his food with a glass of lemonade. Both Ryan and Spencer scan the dining hall, trying to see if they could see said sophomore. Finally, Ryan did spot a kid whom he assumed must be Barnard.“What the fuck? How do you grow a fucking foot in three months?”And really, what the fuck. That energetic, skinny kid from last year had seemingly shot up at least eight inches over the summer.“Not to mention bulked up.” Spencer said, turning back to the table and taking a bite out of his cornbread. Ryan nodded in agreement. The kid had drastically changed over the summer; he looked ready to join the football team now. “Hey, if he joins the team, maybe we’ll actually win championships this year. I’m tired of losing to those Woodfairy shits.”Jon, of course, was talking about their rival, Woodberry Academy, another college preparatory school, known for their distinct lack of scholarship kids and their overabundance of alumni with connections to big business and government officials. They also had a pretty good football team and Jon, being on their own football team, took the schools rivalry a little more personal than Ryan or Spencer. At that moment, Ryan looked up and spotted Brendon, plate and glass in hand, looking around the room, unsure of where he was to go. Ryan stood up and waved his hand, hoping to catch Brendon’s attention. It only took a second before Brendon saw him and started making his way over. Ryan sat down, giving the evil eye to Jon and Spencer.“Seriously guys, don’t be assholes. He’s new, go easy on him.”Jon rolled his eyes, but Spencer nodded and smiled at Brendon when he reached the table. Brendon set his plate and glass down next to Ryan. He gingerly sat down, looking at the table rather than making eye contact. Ryan figured it was his job to introduce him. “Brendon, this is Jon Walker and Spencer Smith, Jon and Spencer, this is Brendon Urie, my new roomie.”Jon said, “What’s up?” and Spencer just said “Hey”. Brendon looked up, a corner of his mouth quirked up into what could be classified as an almost smile, though Ryan wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not. “Uh, hey.” Brendon said, unsure of what else to do. He played with his fork, mixing his food together. Ryan just sat there, not sure how else to break the awkward silence.“So…Brendon, where do you come from?”Thank God for Jon Walker. If anyone could get Brendon to partake in a conversation, it would be Jon. It started of slow, just asking where he was from, what his home was like. Brendon was from St. George, Utah. “Yo, that’s, like, Mormon central.”Brendon nodded, taking a bite of his mashed potatoes. “Yeah, well, I’m Mormon.”There’s a beat of silence and Ryan doesn’t know what to say. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a Mormon it’s just…well he’s never met a Mormon before.“That’s cool.” Thank God for Spencer Smith. “My family’s Episcopalian. And Ryan’s an atheist.”Ryan snorted and smiled taking a bite of his lemon square. “Damn Spencer, no need to out me.”“Yeah” Spencer nods. “Jon is the only real Catholic here.”Jon chuckles. “Yep, you’re all going to Hell except me. I’ll get to chill in purgatory.”“I don’t think you exactly ‘chill’ in purgatory,” Brendon says with a grin, taking a bite of his green beans. All of them laugh at that. They learn Brendon is a vegetarian, when Jon questions the lack of chicken or ham on his plate. “You know, just nothing with a face.” Brendon said, sipping his sweet tea. The boys nod along in understanding, but then dig into their own heaps of chicken and ham. They talk about movies and books and Spencer comments about how Ryan is a book snob, only reading books “where people are, like, drug addicts, or they suffer and probably die. It’s seriously depressing, don’t let him talk you into reading anything.” Ryan rolled his eyes but laughed along. He was proud of his self-proclaimed nihilism. It didn’t take much longer for Brendon to begin talking a mile a minute. Honestly, Ryan was surprised with the amount of energy he saw now in comparison to what he saw in their room earlier that afternoon. It appeared that, once the shell around Brendon was cracked, he was unafraid to unleash his full self on the unsuspecting populace. Ryan was glad that Brendon felt so comfortable. And really, Brendon could talk about anything. Movies (especially Disney movies), T.V. shows (Ryan is now prepared to hear about every detail of M.A.S.H. ever), but especially music. Ryan had been convinced that Mormons were kind of crazy and lacked any personality except a personality devoted to God, but now he was starting to think otherwise, especially when Brendon could go on and on about so many musicians, not to mention all of the instruments he was able to play. Ryan had felt pretty proud about his guitar skills, but something in his stomach made him not want to mention it. He was stuck half-way between awe and jealousy. He then realized what dick he was being and pushed the jealousy down. The awkward kid he had met in his room wasn’t at the dinner table, and that was enough for Ryan. Honestly, Ryan was pretty impressed by Brendon’s proclaimed skills. Not only could he play the guitar, but the drums, the piano, and he “dabbles” a little in violin and the cello, more at his parents’ insistence than his own. Ryan comments that they should jam sometimes, and the way Brendon’s face lit up, Ryan knew he would make it. No more would he have to contend with that awkwardly shy boy, which was an immense relief to Ryan. Dinner time was coming to a close, though the boys barely noticed. They were too busy busting a gut over Brendon’s Inigo Montoya impression. Brendon had jumped up and stood on his chair, holding out a butter knife towards Jon, who was just losing it. “Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!”A teacher from another table barked at Brendon to get off the chair. Brendon slipped down, back into his chair easily and then leaned over, laughing harder than anyone. Even Ryan had tears forming from laughing so hard. Jon reached over and wrapped his arm around Brendon’s shoulder, tugging him in. “God, I love this kid. We’re so keeping you.”It’s when they start getting ready to head back to the dorms when Ryan saw senior student William Becket strutting (literally strutting) over with Adam Siska, a junior William had picked his sophomore year and hadn’t let go of yet. Ryan figured they were in it as long haul (high school) friends. William was more Jon’s friend than his or Spencer’s, as they were in the same class and shared a lot of classes together. However, William was friendly with all of them, had “adopted” them as his “primary vagrants”, his words, not theirs. While William liked hanging around Jon and his friends the most, he quite easily slipped into any of the many social and friend groups around the school. He was just that type of guy, who could strike up an in-depth conversation with anyone and have an opinion about everything. Ryan was usually quiet around him. William was nice, but Ryan never felt pressed to have a conversation with him. That didn’t mean William never tried hard to have a conversation with Ryan. “’Sup, losers.” William said as he stopped by their table. He was wearing tight dress pants and a white dress shirt, tucked in, with the first two buttons unbuttoned. He leaned on Jon’s chair, with something halfway between a grin and a smirk adorning his face. Adam was next to him, a normal grin on his face as he brushed his curly, blond hair out of his eyes. “Hey guys.”Ryan liked Adam more than William. Adam was normal and chill, a lot like Jon. He was smart too, especially in math and science. He knew Adam was taking Honors pre-calculus and AP physics this year. William scanned over the table, landing a piercing gaze on Brendon, who seemed to have started reassembling his shell with the arrival of William. “And who’s this fresh, young thing?” William questioned, walking around the table until he got to Ryan and Brendon’s chairs. He situated himself between them, skinny arms along the backs of both chairs. Ryan rolled his eyes, used to Williams antics. “William, this is Brendon Urie. Brendon, this is William Beckett. Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite.” “Much.” William tacked on to the end of Ryan’s introduction.Ryan sighed and leaned forward, grabbing his glass and drinking some watered down sweet tea. William was usually dramatic, but Ryan believed he kicked it up a notch for new people.Brendon stuttered out a “Nice to meet you” and William hummed before leaning back and letting go of their chairs, walking back around the table towards Jon. He leaned against Jon, sharp hip against Jon’s arm. Jon didn’t care, and leaned into William. “So, where’s Wilson?” William questioned, eyes staring down Brendon and Ryan.“Didn’t come back this year.” Spencer spoke up, giving William a friendly, but also challenging look. William smiled back.“Oh well. Anyways, I’m obviously ecstatic about seeing the rest of you again, and especially about meeting Brendon.” He was quiet for a beat before continuing. “We can mourn the loss of Brent later. Instead, tomorrow night, let’s celebrate the beginning of Welcome Week in our own, special way. I have a little surprise that I believe everyone can find some amusement with. I guarantee it’s something that none of you have seen before. So, after our little ice cream social tomorrow, Ross, your room for our own little meeting?” William had a raised, expectant eyebrow. Ryan glanced at Brendon and all Brendon did was shrug. Ryan looked back at William, only the slightest bit of challenge gleaming in the corner of his eyes. “Sure. Why not.”“Excellent.” William clapped his hands together, mouth now turned into a grin. Ryan was very curious about what William wanted to show them.William ran his fingers over Jon’s fresh buzz cut, a gleam of disappointment in his eyes at the fact that Jon had cut his hair.“Well, see you all tomorrow.” William turned and sauntered off, Adam behind him, waving at everybody before turning and catching up with William. Ryan chuckled, once again reminded of the antics sure to come with a year full of William Beckett. Brendon looked slightly concerned, but Ryan gave him a reassuring smile. They cleaned up their table and brought their dirty dishes to the conveyor belt at the far end of the dining room, depositing forks, spoons, and knives into a bin of soapy water before piling their plates and cups onto the conveyor belt that took their dishes into the back of the kitchen, where they would be promptly washed for tomorrows use. There were only pockets of people left in the dining room, most having gone back to their rooms, which was where all four boys were headed. Ryan was beat, and he knew the others probably were too. Even Brendon had a shine of sleepiness, dark eyelashes beginning to fall over dark eyes. They walked past the nurse’s station and offices, heading towards the back exit. Ryan’s digital watch read 5:30, Nevada time, which meant it was 8:30 Georgia time. Ryan was going to have to change the time on his watch when he got back to his room. It was cloudy out and the only lights they could see were from the surrounding buildings, so it was dark too. Still, it was easy to make it back to their dorm, less than two dozen meters away. After getting inside, they trudged up the narrow staircase, saying goodbye to Jon on the landing to the second floor. Then it was down the hall they went. Ryan and Brendon stopped by Spencer’s door, saying goodnight. Ryan and Spencer clapped hands, saying goodnight. Spencer smiled at Brendon and told him goodnight as well, saying he would see them both tomorrow. Ryan and Brendon made their way back to their room. Brendon held the door open, so Ryan could use the hall light while he turned on the lamp on the little table between the beds. Looking at the boxes under his bed, Ryan decided to finish unpacking tomorrow. Tonight, he was only prepared to change, brush his teeth, and then read a little in bed before going to sleep. He picked his book-bag off the floor and unzipped the middle front pocket, reaching in and pulling out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He turned around to find Brendon standing by his own bed, looking not quite sure what to do. Ryan decided to help him out. “I’m gonna go change and brush my teeth. Our bathroom is only a few doors down, on the right as you’re going down. It’s a big red door with a handle instead of a doorknob. You can’t miss it. Heck, in a few days, it’s gonna start smelling bad, and then you really won’t be able to miss it.”Brendon laughed at that, not even chuckled, but laughed. He was back at ease. Ryan toed off his shoes and socks before heading out the door and down the hall. He would take a shower tomorrow morning, but for now, teeth and then bed. The bathroom was basic, six toilet stalls, three on one wall and three on the other and three showers, all lining the wall opposite the door. There were six sinks on an island in the middle, three on each side, partially dividing the bathroom. It was fine besides the fact that, through the mirror, you caught the reflection of a stall. It was a good-sized room, but imagine thirty boys, half their class, all trying to squeeze in, use the bathroom, brush their teeth, and half of them trying to get a shower. It could become chaotic. Every floor of the dorm buildings had two bathrooms on each floor to accommodate all the boys. In Ryan’s bathroom, four stalls and all the showers were occupied, along with three sinks. Ryan said hello to the boys at the sink, two of them on the cross-country team, same as he was. He left his toothbrush and toothpaste on the sink counter before slipping into a stall to take a piss and change into his night clothes. After relieving himself and changing into his sleep garments (red and green flannel pants and a white wife-beater), he went to the sink and washed his hand, taking one of the paper towels that had been piled into special dispensers on the counter and drying his hands, before throwing it away. He made small talk with one of his track mates, talking about the upcoming season, what training regimens, if any, they did that summer, and a little about classes starting next week. As Ryan spit his toothpaste into the sink and began rinsing his brush, he saw Brendon come in, a little hesitantly, holding some clothes in his arms and his toothbrush and toothpaste. Two of the boys glanced up and one gave a half-hearted wave. Brendon made a beeline to a sink and began getting ready to brush his teeth. Ryan told him he would see him back in their room. Ryan, depositing his toothbrush and toothpaste on his desk and his old clothes under the bed, crawled onto his bed, feeling suddenly exhausted from the day. He reached over from his bed to his desk, grabbing a dogeared book. He had grabbed Junkie by William Burroughs. It wasn’t a favorite of his, but he had read it once before. He figured it would be good to read it again. He was on page seven by the time Brendon had come back to the room dressed in honest to God pajamas. A pair of nice, blue pajamas; long roomy pair of pajama bottoms and a buttoned shirt with a little pocket on the front. They looked nice, made from probably breathable cotton. Ryan felt only just a little hickish in his own sleep clothes when compared to Brendon. Brendon didn’t say anything, depositing his day clothes in a dirty clothes sack under his bed, and his toothbrush and toothpaste on the bookshelf of his desk. He crouched to the ground, looking through his own backpack before standing back up and situating himself into his bed. He settled himself under the sheet, propping himself up on his pillows, also reading a book. It was The Bible. Ryan wasn’t exactly surprised, if just caught off guard. It made sense though. Brendon was Mormon, he probably would read The Bible before bed every night. Ryan settled into his bed and started reading his own book.After reading for about twenty minutes, Ryan looked at his digital wristwatch and realized he hadn’t set it to Georgia time. Grumbling to himself, he set his book down and began messing with the buttons, trying to get the time forward to the correct time. It took about five minutes, but he was successful. It was closing in on 9:30 and Ryan realized he was plenty tired. He turned towards Brendon, seemingly captivated by whichever story he was reading. It was near the beginning. Maybe Exodus. “Hey, Brendon, could I turn the light off? I’m kind of tired.”Brendon was startled out of his reading and whipped his head around towards Ryan. It looked like he was processing Ryan’s request before he quickly nodded his head, shutting the book.“Yeah, of course.”Ryan smiled and crawled towards his desk at the end of his bed, placing his book down. Brendon seemed to take on the same idea, as Ryan heard him shuffling towards his own desk, while Ryan was shuffling back into his own bed. Ryan reached over to the little table between their beds, holding their lamp. Ryan twisted the switch and the room was plunged into darkness. He settled into bed and heard Brendon settling into his own. Along with the darkness came immense sleepiness. Ryan hadn’t realized how much he had worn himself out. It was five minutes until he had fallen asleep. The same couldn’t be said for Brendon.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

It was always hazy, right before he woke up. That moment right before he was truly conscious, where he was drifting between being asleep and being awake. He almost didn’t register the fact that he was no longer in his own house, but at the school. The snores he heard to his left alerted him more. Brent never snored. Brendon, apparently, did.

Ryan took a deep breath and cracked his eyes open slowly, looking at the ceiling. He saw light filtering in through the blinds. He really needed to buy some curtains. Brent was the one who always brought them. Ryan breathed deeply, again, and then sighed, starting to become more aware of himself. His sheets were tangled at his feet, having been kicked off sometime during the night. His left pants leg had ridden up to his mid-thigh and he felt some dried drool on the side of his face. He could guess that his hair most likely looked like a mess. He rubbed at his eyes, clearing the gunk that had built up. He felt tired and a little stiff. Also dirty.

Granted, Ryan knew it was kind of gross to just go to bed without showering, especially since it had been so hot the day before and he had sweat like a horse while waiting at the airport. But his bed had been calling him and, well, he figured the sheets wouldn’t get too dirty. Ryan sat up and curled inward, rubbing his hands through his hair, sleep still trying to cling to him. Time to get on with it.

He left the room and walked down the hall, bare-foot, towel over his shoulder and shower caddy in hand with all of the essentials. He had forgotten his flip-flops at home, something he mentally scolded himself for. Showering in the communal showers barefoot wasn’t the…most appealing thing he could do, but for now he could bear with it. Spencer usually brought an extra pair anyways.

The bathroom was mostly empty, most of the boys probably still asleep or having already showered last night. One shower was occupied and another boy, Taylor, was at the sinks, brushing his teeth. Ryan walked past the sinks to the showers, getting in one on the far-right end, shutting the stall door and locking it. The showers had two compartments, one where you could put your clothes, towels, what-have-yous and the other compartment where you actually showered. A plastic, off-color aqua green shower curtain separated the compartments. Ryan set his towel and caddy down on the bench before drawing back the curtain. He was pleasantly surprised to find the shower dry, which meant he was first in there that morning. That meant this flip-flopless shower would be a little less gross.

Ryan undressed himself, folding up his flannel pants and wife-beater and setting them apart from his dirty boxers. He grabbed his shampoo and soap and stepped into the shower portion of the stall, placing the soaps in a little alcove set in the wall of the shower. He turned the single handle for the water, standing close to the wall so as to avoid the spray. It always started off cold, no matter what, and even in the summer heat, Ryan didn’t want to be attacked by icy water. He let it warm up for a minute before stepping under the spray. Cool water with just a hint of warmth was best for the summer mornings; already his skin had begun to prickle with the heat in his bedroom. He would have killed for a fan in their room, but Ryan had neither the packing space nor an actual, portable fan to pack, so the sweltering heat was his home until November.

The only thing Ryan liked about morning showers was how few people actually showered in the mornings. Most of the boys, including Ryan, did evening showers in exchange for those extra fifteen minutes of sleep. For now, Ryan enjoyed the relative solitude and quiet; it let him think, actually think. Not like in class or at study hall or when he was hanging out with his friends. Here, he could just let his thoughts wander, like he could when he did long runs for cross-country. There was something freeing about thinking without writing down every thought.

He finished up his shower within fifteen minutes, shampooing his hair and giving himself a good scrub down (he really did feel kind of gross from yesterday). He turned the water off, listening to it gurgle down the drain as he stepped past the plastic shower curtain. He grabbed his towel and began drying his hair as much as possible and then dried off his body. He put his night clothes back on, sans underwear, which he wrapped up in the towel. Exiting the shower, he stepped up to the sinks and set his things to the side. He was alone again and he stared into the mirror as he brushed his teeth, just like he did most mornings.

Ryan thought he looked tired. He was. He looked at the acne on his face, happy that it wasn’t bad that day, only a few red spots. He saw that his hair was beginning to curl again, like it did every time after he showered. He hated it.

Ryan spit the frothy foam into the sink, some catching on his lip. He looked into the mirror for a moment, foam hanging off. He scrunched up his face and opened his mouth, giving a small growl. He then wiped his face and left the bathroom, walking back down to his own room. Brendon was there, dressed in khaki pants and a white t-shirt. Well, at least it was a t-shirt.

“Hey.”

Brendon put on his glasses, those thick rims boxing his eyes. He seemed earnest in his ‘Hey,’ and eagerness for Ryan’s acceptance for the day. He needed to make sure yesterday wasn’t just a one-off.

“Bathroom’s empty now, if you wanted to go brush your teeth. It can get pretty crowded later in the morning.”

“Oh,” Brendon said, before he nodded his head and turned around, searching for where he had thrown his toothbrush and toothpaste.  Ryan threw his dirty boxers into a laundry bag he had under his bed and threw his towel over his closet door, to let it dry. He started to straighten out his bed sheet and smooth out the comforter at the end of his bed. He heard Brendon leave the room, the door closing behind him. Ryan went to his closet to get out some clothes. He easily picked out a pair of dark, baggy jeans and a pair of boxers but picking out the shirt was another entirely. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling Neil Young that day and knew he wasn’t feeling Nirvana. But perhaps…yes, Smashing Pumpkins would be great. That and a big, green flannel. Sure, he’d get hot, but at least he would look good. He got undressed and dressed relatively quickly. He pulled on a pair of white socks and his gray sneakers, only a little ratty. He folded his sleep clothes and tucked them under his pillow after his bed was made. Going to the school only enforced what his father had had him doing for years and it was a rare day when he left his bed unmade. It was about the only thing in his room that would be consistently neat for the remainder of the year.

Ryan was straightening his hair when Brendon came back to the room. He paused mid-lock and he and Brendon locked eyes for a very long second before Ryan continued straightening that particular piece of hair.

Brendon only hesitated a moment more before heading towards his desk and putting his stuff away. Ryan finished up and unplugged his straightener, wrapping the cord around it and setting it on his desk.

“Come on, it’s time for breakfast. And then we have chapel. And then, well, you have all the other activities they've planned for new students.” Ryan said, turning around to face Brendon. Brendon was looking at his wristwatch, a tiny clock face as opposed to Ryan’s digital one. He had his packet detailing the weekend schedule. Brendon, as a newbie, would have a few more meetings to go to than Ryan and the others. Poor guy would be surrounded by thirteen-year-olds half the day.

Ryan and Brendon leave the room and go down the hall, Ryan winding his way through the now more crowded hallway as boys head towards breakfast. Ryan had told Spencer he would stop by his room before they headed to breakfast. Brendon followed behind him, quiet, but got through the crowd just as easily as Ryan. They stopped in front of Spencer’s door and Ryan knocked. The door opened just a moment later, Spencer standing in the doorway, wearing baggy jeans and a black Metallica t-shirt. He smiled, stepping out of the room and shutting the door.

“’Sup.” Spencer asked, walking side-by-side with Ryan, heading towards the stairs. Brendon trailed a little behind them, listening in, but not speaking.

“The sky.” Ryan snorted. “Dude, do you have an extra pair of shower shoes? I forgot to pack some.”

Spencer squinted his eyes in though before nodding. “Yeah man, I think my mom threw in an extra pair. She knows that you always forget them.” Spencer smirked. Ryan rolled his eyes, but nudged shoulders with Spencer, deciding to pick them up after assembly.

Ryan glanced back at Brendon, before paving forward. He got it. Being the awkward, third-man out. He didn’t quite fit yet, and Ryan felt it. Ryan didn’t know if Spencer felt it, but maybe. But Ryan left it alone because he knew it wouldn’t take long to get used to Brendon and his place with them. He fit well at dinner last night; first-tier of friendship was fitting into situations like that. Dinner, lunch, breakfast. Being able to shoot-the-shit for an hour or so, nothing deep. Second-tier, hanging out in Jon’s room, maybe smoking some weed together, Ryan couldn’t see Brendon doing too bad. And God, if he was able to handle William Beckett, he’ll probably do all right with them.

Jon had told them he would meet them at breakfast, saying he would need to “wake-and-bake” before he ate. Ryan couldn’t believe the amount Jon smoked, and yet not only was he a top student (and only raised a few suspicions among the faculty and staff) but he also never seemed to run out of weed. Ryan had asked him about his dealer, but that was one thing Jon had never revealed to him. If Ryan wanted weed, he could get it, he would just have to go through Jon. Ryan wasn’t about to complain though, he wasn’t exactly the pothead Jon was. He only needed to know he could get it when he did need it.

The dining hall had just begun to fill up with hungry boys, not yet too crowded. Spencer and Ryan got in the line that would be serving sausage and bacon. Brendon drifted down to the line forming for pancakes. Ryan made a mental note to definitely get some pancakes. He didn’t know what kind of recipe was used, but his school probably served some of the softest pancakes, sweet, but not too sweet. Ryan always added heaps of butter and lots of syrup. He tended to make a mess of things.

Within ten minutes all three boys had found a table of their own in the back-left corner. Ryan had also drenched his sausages in syrup, while Spencer had opted to slather them with grape jelly. Brendon was going to town on his plate of pancakes and eggs, absolutely everything covered in sticky syrup. Ryan saw Brendon suddenly stand and wave his hand. He turned around and saw Jon moseying around the dining hall, seeing Brendon, and then making his way over.

“Walker, you’re starting to smell like your bowl,” Spencer snarked, jokingly waving his hand as if to get the smell away.

“Oh yeah,” Jon said, setting his plate and glass down, sitting next to Spencer. He leaned over, getting as much into Spencer’s personal space as possible. “Lean a little closer, maybe we can get you contact high!”

Spencer shoves him away laughing. Jon gave out breathless laughs, his high getting to him a little. Brendon laughs, not fully, but almost halfway there. He’s amused and he’s letting them know he is, grinning and giggling, paying attention to the group rather than his food. Ryan grins at their antics, shaking his head.

“If there’s anyone who needs to get high, it’s Brendon. He hasn’t had the Walker treatment yet.” Ryan grinned and glanced at Brendon. Spencer and Jon nodded, smirking and looking at Brendon as well. Brendon had stopped laughing and now realized how all three stares were trained on him. His mouth hung open a little, as if he wanted to say something, though nothing came out.

“Ohhhh yeah. Definitely, definitely.” Jon leaned back in his chair, eyes trained on Brendon, giving him a once over. He then leaned back in, voice dropping an octave because he wasn’t actually an idiot and the school did have a few snitches who would have loved to see his ass reprimanded (and better – expelled). “Since we have this oh so wonderful welcome week, I was thinking we could maybe smoke up tomorrow night or something, after lights out.”

Spencer and Ryan nodded in agreement. Brendon did too, though a little more cautious. Ryan could only assume that Brendon had never smoked pot before and he figured it would be fun to have a newbie with them. He can remember the first time they got Spencer to high. He had been so blissed out and Ryan hadn't known how many secrets of the universe Spencer would discover that night. It would be interesting to see how Brendan took to pot.

They spent the rest of breakfast talking about nothing too important, mostly discussing teachers and classes they would be taking that year. Brendon was a little left out in this respect as he knew nobody they were talking about.

“We have a ton of clubs here, you’ll probably find a few you like. Everyone usually joins at least one. Unless you’re Ryan,” Spencer said.

Ryan huffed and rolled his eyes.

“What-the-fuck-ever. Like I want to be surrounded by people I don’t like for two plus hours a week. I already do that in sports, I don’t need to add clubs.”

Jon laughed.

“Don’t worry about him, Bren. Ryan likes maybe...six people in this entire school. I don’t think he has the capacity to like anyone else.”

Ryan gaped.

“This is total harassment. You know, when they write those bullying PSA’s, they’re thinking about you, Walker.”

Brendon threw his head back and laughed. Jon and Spencer quickly joined him. Ryan chuckled and played a little with the food on his plate. When Brendon managed to stop laughing and caught his breath, he looked at Ryan.

“Um, are there any singing groups here? Like choir or something?”

“There’s two choirs: St. Anthony’s Choir and Chamber Choir,” Jon answered. Brendon looked away from Ryan and towards Jon. “Anybody can be in St. Anthony’s Choir, but you have to try out for Chamber Choir. And then of course there’s Octet. They’re, like, this elite senior year singing group. You’ll see them perform at special events and stuff. And of course you have to be a senior to be in them, but tryouts are at the end of the year if you wanna try out.”

Brendon looked down at the table thoughtfully.

“You gonna try out for choir?” Ryan asked.

Brendon was quiet for a beat then nodded his head, slowly.

“Yeah, maybe. I was in the choir at church, and that was usually fun. It’ll probably be more fun here with, like, not being the youngest person in the choir for a change.” Brendon smirked, a tiny shining mischievous glint in the corner of his eye, a blink and you’ll miss it type. Ryan smiled and continued eating.

Around a quarter-to-nine, boys began cleaning up their tables and heading out of the dining room.

“Time for assembly.” Spencer bemoaned as he shoveled the last of his eggs in his mouth.

“Yep, time to head out.” Jon said as he stood up, picking up his plate and drinking glass. Ryan and Brendon stood too as they began gathering their things.

“Assembly always happens in the chapel.” Ryan told Brendon, as they stood in line to put their dishes on the conveyor belt. “It’s at the side of the school, near the Headmaster’s house. You might have seen it on the drive up. It’s also where they have choir tryouts and practice.”

Brendon nodded and then put his plate on the conveyor belt.

-

The boys, along with many other students, went out the side doors in the dining hall, and walked along the bricked path in front of the school, towards the chapel. It was already hot out, air sticky with humidity. Ryan wouldn’t be surprised if they got a thunderstorm within the next few days. Ryan walked alongside Spencer and Jon and Brendon walked as a pair behind them. Jon was pointing out the trees on the front lawn that worked to hide the school from the long drive and the road beyond. Ryan didn’t know how long the trees had been there, perhaps since the start of the school. They towered over them, almost as tall as the school building itself. There were some sugar maples, beech trees, and of course, magnolias. Ryan likes the magnolias the best, with their branches coming all the way to the ground. They were great trees to climb and hide in, or to just sit in and enjoy the afternoon.

“I thought I would see more Spanish moss,” Brendon said, squinting through his glasses at the trees.

“Oh sure, in the woods behind the school. Up front, the groundsmen keep it pretty clean.

Brendon looked a little disappointed, but Jon promised that they’d go on a walk on a trail in the woods sometime.

The group approached the chapel, a tall, red and brown brick building with a towering white steeple. On the stone steps stood Dr. Martin, the headmaster of the school, and Father Bishop, the priest who had been working for the school since before Ryan became a student. Dr. Martin was in his mid-fifties and had been working at the school in various capacities for the last twenty years. Ryan knew he had been a student at the school and was somehow related to the founder. Father Bishop was in his late seventies and had been with the school as it’s priest longer than Dr. Martin had been there.

Both men were greeting students as they filled the chapel and handing out that mornings’ programs. Ryan smiled at Father Bishop as he passed by. The boys shuffled inside, looking for a relatively empty pew that they could sit together on. Jon spotted one on the left, towards the front of the chapel that only had one other student sitting on it. Jon led them into the pew and that was when Ryan noticed that there were two other students sitting on it. Gerard Way, an overweight, quiet senior. Ryan never really talked to him, but nobody ever really talked to Gerard. From what Jon had told them, Gerard had always been pretty quiet and socially awkward, at least as long as he had been at the school. The most Ryan knew about him is that he liked comics and that he wrote a lot.

Even as they were sitting down, Ryan saw a notebook in Gerard’s lap, Gerard scratching his pen on the blue lines in the notebook. Once he noticed that he was no longer alone, he tucked his pen into his notebook and shut it, slipping it between his thigh and the end of the pew. Jon greeted him and Gerard smiled and gave a faint wave before turning his head towards the front. Ryan turned his head and cracked his neck before looking towards the front as well. Spencer was on his right side and Brendon sat beside Spencer. Ryan felt Spencer nudge his shoulder.

“Hey, wanna hang in my room after this?”

Ryan smiled and nodded without turning from the front. Brendon would have to stick the other new kids until lunch and Jon would be busy doing “Top Secret Shit” with the other seniors. It would be nice to just hang out with Spencer for a while.

As the last of the students and faculty trickled in, the doors to the chapel shut and the organ music from an alcove above the ground floor began to pray. All the older students stood and the newer ones followed suit as Father Bishop walked towards the front of the church, followed by Thomas Gordon and Mark Lewis, two altar boys, and Dr. Martin. Dr. Martin sat in one of the front pews, along with other faculty members, while Father Bishop continued towards the front of the church. He bowed and crossed himself before turning back to face the students and faculty.

The first assembly of the school year is very typical and doesn’t change much from the previous years’ assembly. The students are welcomed back by Father Bishop and are asked to stand to sing a hymn in their programs (

Morning Has Broken

). They then sit back down and wait for Dr. Martin to take a stand. He switches places with Father Bishop at the pulpit.

“Gentlemen,” he says, surveying the students. “Welcome back.”

Ryan zones out during the rest of his speech. A lot of it is the same as previous years, talking about the students maintaining the honor and integrity of the school, continuing to uphold the traditions of the past, and for the students to keep pushing forward and working hard to make this year successful for all of them. There’s then a special message for the seniors at the end, as that was their final year. Ryan nudged Jon to his left and smirked at him; Jon had been so excited at the previous graduation ceremony, because it meant next year it would be him graduating. Ryan remembered when they all piled into Jon’s room after graduation to check out the class ring he had received. It was 12-karat gold, with a red carbuncle gem with the school's emblem scratched into the stone. On the inside of the ring was Jon’s full name and the year of his graduation. Glancing towards Jon’s lap, Ryan notes he was wearing the ring. All the seniors would wear their class rings throughout the year; it was tradition.

As Dr. Martin ended his speech, the students stood and clapped their hands. Father Bishop took his place back at the pulpit.

“Thank you, Dr. Martin. And thank you, gentlemen, for a new school year. Now, before The Lord’s prayer and our final hymn, I have an announcement to make. This will be my final year at St. Anthony’s. I have been blessed to spend 45 years at this institution and I would not trade a second of it. I have seen countless boys grow into men; I have seen many of you sitting before me grow and become exceptional young gentlemen. It has been the highest honor to serve you here.

“This has been a heavy decision to make.” Father Bishop took a moment of silence before continuing to speak. “I have spent much time contemplating and praying to our Lord for guidance in this matter. And as much as it might pain me, it has become clear to me that it is my time to leave this station in my life and go on to the next.

“I have cherished every moment here. Every young man who has passed through these halls, I am unequivocally proud of. At this time, I could not ask for better men to spend my final year with. You are the brightest, the most curious, and the kindest men to set foot here. And I am eternally gracious to you for allowing me to have complete happiness in my final years here. Thank you.”

Even in the applause, Ryan was stunned by Father Bishop’s announcement; most boys were. He frowned, slightly, eyebrows knitted as he thought of the idea of having no Father Bishop for his final year at the school. Ryan bowed his head automatically when it was time for the Lord’s Prayer, and recited it as he had done a thousand times before. They then stood for the final Hymn in their program (

All Things Bright and Beautiful

). Ryan didn’t sing so much as mumble along with the words. He looked at Father Bishop as he sang along and tried to see what was the matter, because Ryan couldn’t accept that everything was okay. Once the hymn was done, he folded his program and put it in his pants pocket.

Mr. Reeves, the organist, began playing out a tune for their exit. All the boys had turned towards the center, ready to exit their pews. Father Bishop led the way out, followed by the altar boys, Dr. Martin, and then the teachers. After them, the students in the front most pews were allowed to exit. That was the good thing about sitting up front, Ryan supposed, at least you got to leave first. He shuffled out with the rest, listening less than intently to Brendon and Spencer’s conversation, which had somehow become a The Beatles vs. The Stones debate. Ryan thought that it really depended on what kind of mood you were in.

There was a throng of boys in front of the chapel, some lingering around waiting for friends or teachers, others just lingering. Ryan knew that the new students and the seniors had meetings to go to soon. He stopped walking where Spencer and Brendon had stopped. Ryan saw William and Adam with them now. They were mostly talking to Spencer, as Brendon had gone quiet with their arrival, but he seemed attentive to the conversation at least. William saw Ryan and Jon catching up and turned to smile at them.

“Ross.” William smirked at Ryan. He had a more friendly smile for Jon. “Care to accompany us, Mr. Walker? We have super secret senior stuff to do; don’t want to be late for that.”

Jon chuckled. “Yeah yeah, whatever. Catch you guys at lunch. Have fun with your bonding activities, Brendon.”

Brendon gave a close lipped smile and waved at Jon as he started walking off with William and Adam. Adam waved at the boys and told him he would see them later. William turned back a second, calling to them, “Remember, meeting in your room tonight after dinner Ross. I’m expecting you to be a most gracious host.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and shook his head as William, Jon, and Adam walked off with the rest of the seniors. Spencer cracked his neck and told Ryan they better be getting to their own super secret hangout of catching up on summer reading. Ryan snorted and glanced at Brendon. He felt kind of bad that, being a new student, Brendon would have to spend the morning, and some of the afternoon doing ice breakers and having meetings with the other high school students. He knocked shoulders with Brendon and gave him a half smile.

“We’ll see you at lunch, usual spot.”

Brendon nodded and gave him a more reassured smile back. “Good, great.”

Ryan and Spencer waved at Brendon before heading back towards the dorms.

-

Ryan and Spencer allocated themselves to Spencer's room; Spencer’s roommate was hanging out with his own friends elsewhere. Ryan was allowed to fully stretch himself out on Spencer’s bed as Spencer still had a summer essay to finish and the last few chapters of the book

Beloved

for their AP American Literature class to read. Ryan had requested the privilege to use Spencer’s radio (“Not too loud Ryan, I really need to finish this. And please, I beg of you,

no duets

with Morrissey”), and for the morning period he half dozed, half mumbled along with the radio while Spencer tried, quickly, to write the last three pages of a summer essay, complaining of hand cramps whenever he felt like communicating with Ryan.

Around eleven, Spencer had migrated to his bed, making Ryan scoot towards the wall. Leaning against the headboard, he thoughtfully underlined important dialogue or ideas with black ink in their summer reading, and underlined the really important stuff in red. Ryan was feeling more awake now and tracing the lines of cracked paint on the ceiling with his eyes as he mumbled along with the current song on the radio.

“...doused in mud, soaked in bleach, as I want you to be…”

Spencer closed his book, his thumb holding his place in it. He let his head roll to the side to look at Ryan.

“As much as I enjoy you serenading me, I also want to finish this chapter before lunch so that when I decide to take a nap before dinner, I won’t feel quite as guilty.”

Ryan gave him a lopsided smile, as he tilted his head towards Spencer.

“Aw, but how else am I supposed to convey my undying love for you if not through song?”

Spencer snorted and shoved his free hand at Ryan’s face, pushing him more towards the wall.

“You are literally such a dork face.”

Ryan flailed a bit, laughing. Spencer moved his hand lower, grabbing Ryan right under his armpit and prodded at the sensitive skin. Ryan shrieked, kicking his legs and waving his arms, trying to ward off Spencer’s attacks.

“Help! I’m being assaulted! This is abuse!”

Spencer laughed with him as he finally took his hand back and opened his book again. The song on the radio had changed and Ryan breathlessly settled back in his spot on the bed.

“There. Now shut up while I finish reading. I promise, you can totally try to woo me later.”

-

Spencer and Ryan headed down to lunch a little early, hoping to beat the rush of new students and seniors that would soon crash the dining hall. So far, there were only a couple dozen students already there. They took their time getting their food; today an assortment of cold cut sandwiches and pasta salad as the main courses. Ryan picked out a turkey and cheese sandwich and added a small serving of pasta salad next to it. He also added a pile of baby carrots to his plate and grabbed an apple on the way to the drink station. There he opted for just water. He made his way to the table, where Spencer was already seated. Jon and Brendon hadn’t arrived yet, but Ryan figured they would be there soon.

Spencer had two sandwiches on his plate, some pasta salad, and an orange. He had a tall glass of lemonade that he was sipping from, after having taken a bite of his sandwich. He waved at Ryan before diving back in. Ryan followed Spencer’s lead and started in on his own food. He was finishing up his sandwich by the time Brendon had arrived, plopping down at the table next to Ryan and a seat away from Spencer. He smiled at both of them, before beginning in on his pasta salad. He had a good helping of carrots as well, and even ants-on-a-log. His drink of choice for lunch was kool-aid.

“How was it hanging out with the freshies this morning? I’m sure everyone wanted you in their group during activities,” Spencer said.

Brendon chuckled and glanced at his food before glancing back at Spencer.

“Kinda. Though I had some competition. There’s this German student, Johan. He’s a junior too, and, like cool, older foreign students beats regular junior any day. But it was cool. Sometimes we teamed up and stuff. He’s nice. I think he’s already got his own friends, though. The foreign kids kinda stick together, don’t they?”

Ryan hummed. “Yeah, kinda. They’ll stick with each other and, like, if they do sports, then they’ll mostly stick around the sports teams too, like the varsity soccer team and lacrosse team. A lot of them have scholarships here for sports, so it makes sense.”

Brendon nodded his head and took a bite of a carrot. “The ice breakers were kinda fun, honestly. It was really boring when we were just sitting down and going over the rule book and, like, policies and stuff. And then after lunch I have to go to a lot of one-on-one meetings and meet my advisor.” Brendon chuckled and ran his hand through his hair. “Ugh, I just feel so tired, all I wanna do is nap.”

Ryan nodded his head, chuckling. “That is exactly what I’m doing after lunch.”

Brendon slumped in his seat dramatically and sighed as loudly as he could. At that moment, Jon showed up with a plate of food. He asked Brendon how his morning had gone and Brendon told him what he had told Ryan and Spencer. Jon had just laughed and told him not to worry; he would probably be done by three that afternoon, and then he could just relax until dinner.

-

Dinner that night was special; it was going to be a picnic on the back lawn, a giant field on the edge of the woods. The groundsmen had already started setting up the tables and tiki torches for when it got dark. It would be a buffet and they would have games set up for the boys and team activities. Ryan and his friends always had a lot of fun every year. This year would have the added bonus of whatever William had planned for after dinner.

Before lunch was over, while Spencer and Brendon were talking, Ryan turned towards Jon.

“Hey, Jon.” Ryan was quiet when he spoke, almost like what he was going to ask was supposed to be a secret. “Do you have any idea why Father Bishop is retiring?”

Jon shrugged his shoulders, looking unconcerned.

“I mean, priests don’t

really

retire, at least, not that often.” Jon chuckled. “Maybe he’ll become a monk.”

Ryan found him very unhelpful.

Soon lunch was over and they all headed towards their respective rooms, save Brendon, who had to go to meetings about classes and sports. He waved them goodbye as they split off and Ryan, Spencer, and Jon headed towards the dorm building.

-

Ryan was reading a book of his when Brendon returned to their room around three in the afternoon. He looked up from his slumped position on the bed, lowered his book as he watched Brendon toe off his shoes, drop his packet of papers and documents on his desk, and then promptly fling himself on his bed with a groan, face buried deep into his pillow.

Ryan snickered and closed his book.

“That bad, huh?”

Another groan was released before Brendon turned his head towards Ryan.

“Long and arduous. But at least I’m signed up for all my classes, now, and a sport.”

“Oh, which sport?” Ryan tilted his head, curiously.

“Oh, hmm, lacrosse. We have a lot of the same sports at my public school; I just wanted to try something different.”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

Brendon sat up on his bed and crossed his legs, putting his back to the wall so that he could face Ryan’s bed. Ryan continued laying down on his bed, head tilted in brendons direction.

“Which sport are you doing?” Brendon asked.

Ryan quirked his mouth. “Cross country. Not that I really like running or anything, but I don't do well at team sports.”

Brendon nodded, hands picking at a thread on his pants.

“Yeah, I’m not - I’ve never really done any team sports before and I’m not that, like, athletic or anything. I’ll probably be benched a lot, but it's something new.”

Ryan nodded and then sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed.

“You said you got your class schedule. Wanna compare?”

Brendon nodded and crawled to the end of his bed, towards his desk to grab the class schedule from his paper packet. Ryan pushed himself off the bed and crouched on the ground, reaching under his bed for his book bag. He grabbed his schedule and climbed onto Brendon’s bed. He and Brendon looked over each other's schedules, looking to see where they matched up.

“Cool.” Ryan grinned. “We have pre-calc and Latin together.”

Brendon grinned as well. “Nice. You any good at math?”

Ryan waved his hand in a so-so gesture. “Kinda. I've never made lower than a C, so I haven't failed yet.”

Brendon nodded. “You're better than me, anyways. I usually can't make any higher than a C.”

Ryan chuckled. “Dont worry too much about it. Mandatory study hall usually means at least a little studying. We always go to the library to do homework together anyways. Jon’s pretty good at math. He’s doing calculus this year; he can probably help. And Spencer’s pretty good at math too.”

Ryan slid off Brendon’s bed and laid his schedule on his own desk. He climbed back into his own bed, situating himself back into his slouched position and picked up his book, thumbing back to the page he had left off. He heard Brendon situate himself on his own bed, and then a muffled sigh.

“Is it always this hot here?”

Ryan turned a page. Up until this point he had been doing a good job of pretending it wasn't as hot as hell.

“Kinda,” he answered, not looking away from his book. “We should probably get some curtains. And maybe a fan. It’ll probably be like this until around November.“

Brendon groaned.

-

Brandon ended up taking a shower later that afternoon to try and survive “the fires of Mordor, seriously,” while Ryan had kept reading his book. After getting back from his shower, Brendon had passed out in bed, mumbling to Ryan to wake him up when dinner came around.

When it was time, Ryan sat on the edge of his bed. “Brendon. Hey, Brendon, wake up. Hey.”

Instead of actually getting off his bed, Ryan reached over the gap with his foot and shoved Brendon’s shoulder. “Hey!”

“Hrumph-gah!”

Ryan recoiled his leg as he watched Brendon turn and tumble to the ground. He couldn't help but laugh at his roommate.

“Dude, what the world? You couldn’t wake me up like, uh, like a normal person?”

Ego bruised more than himself, Brendon picked himself off the floor and leaned against his bed, rubbing the back of his head. He looked annoyed, but there was a tinge of amusement pulling at the corner of his mouth. Ryan laid back in his bed and laughed. Brendon groaned.

“It’s not that f-funny man. Gosh, you’re such a lame-o,” Brendon huffed, picking up his socks from the floor with his toes and pulling them on.

Ryan finished up his laughing at the expense of Brendon and sat up from his bed, still grinning widely. Brendon was now putting on his shoes, and Ryan guessed he had half a mind to leave Ryan there. Sliding off the bed, Ryan pulled on his own socks and shoes before grabbing his flannel from the end of the bed.

“Sorry dude, it’s just…no offense, but it was real funny watching you fall off.”

Brendon had put his glasses on by then, and Ryan watched as he rolled his eyes. Ryan would be worried, but he saw Brendon’s smirk and knew it would be all good.

“Whatever man. Hey, we gonna stop by Spencer’s room?”

-

They did stop by Spencer’s room, and then Ryan was sent to the floor above to get Jon. Instead of heading towards the dining hall, they headed behind the dorms, down a hill, and towards the field in the back. It was a wide open field, with a large oak tree off to the right, a couple yards away from the woods bordering the field. There were already many students at the field, and most of the faculty as well. Ryan saw the women and men from the kitchen already serving the food off the long tables that had been set up. Boys were sprawled across the grass in groups, eating and talking. Closer to the woods, Ryan saw an impromptu soccer match happening and off to the side, a couple of guys were throwing a frisbee.

Jon pushed them towards the line for food, letting them know that, yes, seriously, he is starving and that he is not above eating one of them. Ryan picked up a flimsy paper plate and then decided he would be better off with two plates, just to make sure it didn’t collapse under the food he planned on getting. All four boys piled their plates high, even Brendon with his generous serving of macaroni and cheese, buttered corn on the cob, and a fresh garden salad that he managed to squeeze onto his plate. Ryan himself grabbed a hamburger, some macaroni and cheese, and a dinner roll. He definitely planned on coming back for seconds. Plastic cups full of water, tea, and lemonade filled the end of the long serving table as two women from the kitchen took the time to fill each cup up. They grabbed their drinks and headed off to find an empty bit of grass to eat on. Jon, leading them, took a sudden right turn and Ryan just noticed why. William and Adam were already sitting in a good spot of grass, not too far from the various activities going on, but far enough away that they wouldn’t be trampled by someone kicking around the soccer ball or catching a frisbee. They even had a large sheet on the ground where they could sit.

Jon plopped down next to William and Spencer next to Adam. Ryan planted his knees firmly next to Spencer and Brendon squeezed into his spot between Ryan and Jon. Spencer eyed Brendon’s plate and smiled.

“Hey, I didn’t even see the cookies over there,” he said, leaning over Ryan’s plate and snatching the cookie off Brendon’s.

“Hey!”

Spencer smirked and licked the cookie, firmly claiming it as his. Brendon scrunched up his face in disgust and laughed.

“Ugh, fine, have it. It has your cooties on it now, anyways.”

The whole group burst out laughing, William gasping out a “who even says that anymore?”

After the laughter died, they talked while they ate their food, William and Adam catching up with the others and getting to know Brendon. William thoroughly expressed that he had big plans for his final year at the school. Ryan could only imagine. Last year he had been voted onto student council, which meant William would play a role in most of the events that happened at the school, including fundraisers, student lead activities, and the annual winter formal. Ryan could only imagine the mischief William would get up to that year (and what he would get them up to).

Brendon had intrigued William by mentioning that he was planning on trying out for chamber choir. William himself was in chamber choir and always liked to scout the new talent that may join. Jon joked with Ryan that he only did that so as to make sure no one upstaged him. As Spencer and Adam were in the middle of discussing who would win, Wonder Woman or Hawk Girl, two persons walked into the middle of the field, carrying with them a long, thick, rolled up rope, and called for everyone's attention. Both were seniors. One, Tyson Ritter, was decked out in my black shorts, a black T-shirt, and a black bandana around his head. The other, Alex Marshall, was decked out similarly in blue, though his bandana was around his neck rather than his head.

“Alright gators, listen up,” Tyson yelled, hands cupped around his mouth. “It’s time to get up off your butts and see who’s gonna win this year!”

“And we all know it’s gonna be the blue team!” Alex had a smile on his face as he called out to the students. Everyone was starting to get up from their spots and leave their frisbees and balls where they stood to walk over towards the rope, which was now being unfurled by Tyson, Alex, and a few others who had decided to help. Ryan had gotten up off the ground and heard Spencer ask Brendon if he remembers which team he was on.

“Black team,” Brendon said, as he brushed any dirt he might have had on the seat of his pants. Ryan grinned. So did Spencer.

“Cool! You’ll be with Ryan and me then.”

Brendon grinned.

“Man, really sorry you’re on the losing team, Brendon,” Jon mocked lightheartedly. Brendon laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess we’re gonna see who the real losers are pretty soon.”

They all made their way behind their respective team captains. Ryan, Brendon, and Spencer found themselves somewhere along the middle of the rope. Ryan was ahead of both Brendon and Spencer, with Brendon in the middle. They all got a good grip on the rope.

“Really dig your feet into the dirt. You wanna make Walker eat his words, right,” Ryan said, digging his own feet in. He got a good grip on the rope and grin stretched across his face. He felt Brendon grip the rope near his elbows and start to pull. Everyone quieted down as they waited for the game to begin.

“Ready!” Tyson yelled from the front.

“Three, two, one!”

Ryan immediately started to pull backwards, and he felt Brendon shift behind him as well. The day had cooled tremendously by the time they had gotten onto the field for dinner, but the sun was still up and Ryan felt the little pinpoint beads of sweat as they began to form on his brow. He had already been sweating a little in his flannel, but he barely noticed it as he continued to pull. He could hear Tyson and others in the line rooting them on and he felt himself taking a half step back, feeling as his team began to take the upper hand. He could hear Brendon almost growl behind him as the team kept pulling on the rope; Ryan felt his own hands shake, his muscles pulling with all their might. He feels his team gain more ground and Ryan takes a step and a half back. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, feeling victory close at hand.

At some moment in the forty-five seconds since they had begun their Tug-O-War, Ryan’s eyes had wandered to the tree line, about fifty yards away. There he glimpsed a figure standing just inside, not quite shadowed by the trees. It looked like...Gerard Way.

But why...

Ryan thought to himself as Gerard turned and stalked into the woods.

Ryan didn’t have long to dwell on it as he was suddenly jerked forward, rope slipping in his grip, feet stumbling. His head was back in the game as he worked with his team to regain their footing. Tyson yelled even louder at the front, and boys dotted through the line yelled with him.

“Pull, pull, pull!”

Like a drum beat to march to, each “pull!” had the line tugging backwards on a count. Ryan dug his feet in even more, grunting and sweating, muscles straining under his clothing. Step, step, pull, his team was slowly gaining. Suddenly, Ryan felt a jerk and then a slip, muscles releasing and he was falling backwards as his team tugged the rope over the line, over to their side. He felt a knee hit the middle of his back and then slide around as he crashed onto Brendon behind him. Brendon himself had toppled half on top of Spencer and so on down the line. Though most of the boys had fallen on the ground, his team hooped and hollered in their victory. Ryan could feel the vibrations in his back as Brendon cheered along with the rest of the team.

Ryan swung his own fist into the air as he cheered with the rest of his team. Then, rolling over and off of Brendon, he pulled himself off the ground, wincing now that the adrenaline had started to wear off and he could feel the inevitable bruise forming on his back. He straightened his back and stretched, trying to bring some comfort to his sore muscles. Looking over, Brendon was still lying flat on his back, laughing from the exhilaration of the game, hands clutching his stomach and eyes scrunched closed. He raised both arms in the air, fist clenched in victory.

“That. Was. Awesome!”

Ryan laughed at the sight. Spencer, who had picked himself off the ground, smirked and stepped towards Brendon, grabbing a hand and hauling him onto his feet. Brendon continued to giggle, holding onto Spencer.

“That was so fun Spencer Smith. We won!”

Ryan smiled wide, still feeling invigorated from the victory. Suddenly, he felt himself being grabbed from behind, an arm wrapping around his head, placing him in a headlock.

“Hey!”

He heard a chuckling from his side and felt a fist grind into his hair.

“Too early to claim victory yet,” the voice of Jon Walker said above him. “We still have the whole year to see who the real winners are. This is simply the first battle.”

Ryan continued to struggle in the head lock.

“Jesus, Jon, let me go. Go smother Spencer or Bill.”

“Come on Jon,” Spencer said, “let go of the princess. You’re messing up his hair.”

“Fuck off,” Ryan said, as he was finally released. His face was red and his hair a mess. Thin fingers combed their way through, trying to untangle the mess that Jon had created.

“Aw, come on Ryan, you look so much more punk rock now,” Jon said, grinning.

Ryan was unamused and flipped his middle finger at him.

“What the fuck ever.”

Jon sighed and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, vying for peace. Ryan let his head loll away from Jon, but he smiled, accepting the ceasefire. That was when William appeared on his other side, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Good fight guys. We’ll see how the next one goes, of course.” His eyes glanced at Ryan, a smirk playing on his mouth. “I believe that one will be cross country. You ready for it Ross?”

Both Ryan and William ran in cross country during the fall. William was faster, but Ryan had more endurance. While it was a team effort, Ryan and William saw it as a personal play between themselves.

“I’m always ready to kick your ass, Beckett. You’re the one who’s gotta live up to your hype, since it’s your last year and all.”

William snorted, and flung an arm around Ryan’s shoulders.

“I’d love to see that. Anyways, fellas,” William said, addressing the group. “Ready to go back to the dorms? I’m dying to show you what I’ve been planning for tonight.”

-

They had settled in Ryan and Brendon's room, Ryan and Spencer on Ryan’s bed, Jon and Brendon on Brendon’s bed and Adam and William sitting in the desk chairs they had pushed towards the beds. William had his backpack, though it was more like a stylish messenger bag, made of a dark leather with shiny brass buckles. It looked new, and it probably was, or at least it wasn’t the bag William had used last year. The year before, William had been all about the leather rucksack he had gotten from his trip to Europe, and it had been a very rare occurrence that Ryan would not see it by his side.

William was grinning, more so than usual, the excitement palpable to everyone in the room. His long fingers clutched his bag, with one hand, working at the buckles to open it. Even Adam was sitting on the edge of his seat, seemingly intrigued by what might be hidden from view and Ryan wondered if even Adam had not been privy to the information.

Finally William loosened the buckles and pulled the bag open. Barely peeking out, it looked something like a board game, which, to Ryan, seemed strange to be so secretive about. William pulled out the rest of the board, and a triangular piece of dark wood with what looked like a mirror in the middle, or maybe a piece of glass. William let his bag fall to the floor as he turned to face the middle of their little circle.

“This is a spirit board. My brother got it at some antique store or something.”

William held it out for everyone to look at. It was made with a light wood and was about the size of a regular board game. It had letters, the alphabet carved and painted over in black paint, highlighting it against the board. It also had the words YES and NO carved in above the letter at the top and the word GOODBYE carved at the bottom. Ryan was less than impressed.

“Dude, is that a Ouija board?”

William turned to Ryan and scoffed, obviously offended.

“No Ross, do you see ‘Ouija’ or ‘Hasbro’ printed anywhere on here? Or the fact that, I don’t know, this isn’t a cardboard print?”

Ryan rolls his eyes, and leans back against the wall next to his bed, very much over with the surprise. The rest of the group, too, is looking less than impressed.

“Ugh, you guys have no imagination. This isn’t some corporate knock-off or money grab, this is a real spirit board used by real spiritualists.”

“Then why would you find it at an antique store? Wouldn’t the spiritualist want to, like, keep their spirit board?” Spencer asked, getting some nods from the rest of the group.

“Oh my God, I don’t know, maybe they died, who cares?” William said, exacerbated with the tone in the room. “Look, I thought it would have been a cool thing to show you guys, but obviously any sort of fun that takes an iota of imagination or a sense of adventure is just too much for you.”

William huffed, going to put the board back in his bag before Jon spoke up.

“Hey, wait a minute Bill. We’ll play the game, okay?” Jon turns to look at Ryan and Spencer. “Look guys, it could be cool to try out. I mean, come on, Ryan, you liked The Exorcist enough to buy the book, why not just, like, try it out?”

Ryan groaned and rolled his eyes. “Whatever, fine, let’s play the game.”

William rolled his eyes, but put his bag back down and slid onto the wooden floor of the room. He placed the board facing him and put the triangular piece of wood, the planchette, in the middle. Then William looked up expectantly, eyeing both beds.

“Well, Ryan, Brendon, this is your room. I think you both should be the first ones to play the game, with me, of course.”

Ryan grumbled, but slid off his bed in a fluent motion. Brendon slid off his bed as well, though a little more slowly. There wasn’t a lot of space between the beds, letting Ryan lean against his own bed, but still be fairly close to the board. Brendon leaned a little more forward. Ryan noticed he seemed a little cautious about the whole situation.

“Well, gentlemen, I’m assuming we all know how the game goes.” William said, starting to place his hands on the planchette. Brendon looks up, a corner of his mouth tugged down in a frown.

“Actually, I, uh, I’ve never done anything like this before. My family is really religious and, uh, so, yeah, I don’t actually know what to do.”

William sighed.

“It’s easy. Just put your fingers on the planchette - lightly - like so.” William placed just the tips of his fingers on the planchette, and Ryan did the same, leaning forward slightly. Brendon followed suit, putting just the tips of his fingers on the board. Brendon licked his lips in concentration, obviously taking the game more seriously than Ryan did and Ryan had to wonder if Brendon actually considered this to be more than just a silly game.

“Alright,” William continued, “then we move the planchette in a circle, counter-clockwise, so that we can give our energy to the spirits so that they can make contact with us. But we only do it thirteen times; no more, no less.”

Ryan rolled his eyes, but followed suit when William and Brendon began moving the planchette, slowly, still applying the least amount of pressure on it as possible. William already looked giddy, but Ryan couldn’t discern the expression on Brendon’s face. He looked like he was counting along silently as William counted aloud to the number thirteen.

“Okay, stop,” William said, as they reached thirteen. Both Ryan and Brendon looked at William, waiting for further instructions. William looked up and around the room, searching for something that was just beyond any of their reach.

“Hello? Hello? Are there any spirits who wish to make contact with us?” William waited a moment before asking again. Despite himself, Ryan looked up too, trying to see...he wasn’t sure what. He just didn’t want to miss it.

“Hello? If you’re there, spirits, and you wish to make contact with us, feel free to use this board and use our energy in order to do so.” William waits and Ryan keeps glancing up, but Brendon’s eyes are stuck staring at the planchette on the board. And then, a tug, a slight pull and Ryan looks down, still keeping his fingers, ever so lightly, on the planchette. He watches as it moves, little by little, towards the corner of the board before it hovers over the YES. Brendon’s eyes go wide and William grins, but Ryan is a little more skeptical.

“You’re moving it, aren't you Bill,” Ryan accused.

“Shut the fuck up, no I am not,” William shot back, glaring.

Ryan huffed and rolled his eyes.

“Anyways, thank you, spirit!” William exclaimed, looking down at the board again. “Spirit, if you wish, tell us your name.”

The room is silent and the planchette lays still. And then, after about half a minute, it moves again. It crawls up towards the left corner, but stops short on the letter carved into the board. It stops moving and hovers over D and then moves slightly to the left to hover over A. The planchette takes it’s time and Ryan wonders if he should just give it a push to help it along. Soon though, it does spell out a name. Daniel. William is practically buzzing while Brendon is staring wide-eyed at the board. Ryan glances towards William, who’s already looking at Ryan.

“Why don’t you ask him a question, Ross?”

Ryan quirks his mouth, head tilted to the side. He’s really not impressed with the game, but he figures he’ll humor William for a few more minutes.

“Okay, uh….spirit, or, uh, Daniel, how old were you when you died?”

They waited half a minute before the planchette moved again, creeping down towards the numbers and over to the left. It hovers over the two before skirting over, slowly, towards the right and finally resting on the six.

“Twenty-six,” Ryan says.

Ryan looks up and across the board towards Brendon, who had been quiet this whole time. Raising his eyebrows, Ryan nods towards the board, signalling for Brendon to give it a go. Brendon’s eyebrows scrunched up and he looked down, seemingly concentrating on what he wanted to ask.

“Um… how did you...how did you die, Daniel?”

The planchette waits, again, for about half a minute before up towards the letters. Ryan catches himself saying the letters that the planchette hovers over.

“F...A...L...L. Fall.”

William grins, and goes to ask another question.

“Daniel, could you tell us mo-”

William doesn’t get to finish as the planchette suddenly moves, more quickly than it had been, towards the bottom of the board until it stops over GOODBYE. It doesn’t move again. William scrunches his eyebrows in confusion, head tilted, but then shrugs his shoulders and let’s go of the planchette. Ryan lifts his hands next and then Brendon.

“Guess he just didn’t want to talk anymore,” William said, leaning back.

Ryan heard a chuckle from above and realized he had totally forgotten that the others were in the room. Spencer was sitting on the edge of Ryan’s bed, leaning over and Jon was laying on his stomach on Brendon’s bed, arms cradling his head. He had been the one to chuckle.

“I’m telling you Bill, you always pry too much. One day you’re gonna ask the wrong question.”

William rolls his eyes and stands up, dusting off the non-existent dust from his clothes.

“Anyways...Walker, Smith, you wanna give it a go? Adam can lead.”

They switch spots, Ryan and Brendon hoisting themselves onto Ryan’s bed while William all but lounges on Brendon’s bed. They watch as their friends try to contact another spirit. The night wears on and they take a few more turns, changing up the groupings each time. Ryan actually starts to have fun, trying to figure out questions to ask the “spirits” and even Brendon seems to loosen up and relax with the game. Eventually though, it’s getting close to lights out for Ryan, Brendon, and Spencer. William packs up his board after the final GOODBYE.

“We will definitely be doing this again. This school is old enough, I’m sure it has more ghosts laying around somewhere.”

-

Ryan is pulling off his shirt from the day when Brendon comes back to the room from the showers. He hears a gasp before pulling his shirt fully.

“Oh geez, Ryan, did I do that to you.” Ryan looks over his shoulder, fruitlessly trying to see what Brendon was talking about.

“Huh, what, what happened?”

Brendon moves forward, letting his dirty clothes fall on the floor and putting his shower caddy on his desk.

“There, right in the middle of your back. That bruise. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt.”

Ryan, again cranes his neck, full well knowing there’s no way he would be able to see the bruise on his back. His mind goes backwards and his thoughts land on that afternoon.

“Oh. Yeah, I mean, it hurt when it happened.”

Ryan pulled on his sleep shirt, an old, dark green t-shirt with most of the logo washed away.

“But I don’t really feel it now,” Ryan said, turning to Brendon and shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll probably feel it tomorrow.”

Brendon’s face became slightly  pained and obviously more remorseful.

“Really, don’t worry about it,” Ryan said, hopping into his bed, “Jon says I bruise when the wind blows a little hard. I’m sure you’ll give me plenty of bruises before the end of the semester. Don’t worry though, I’ll be sure to knock you around too.”

Brendon crawled into his own bed, seeming a little more relaxed.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll get beat up enough at lacrosse tomorrow.”

Ryan snorted loudly.

“Oh man, you and Spence? Good luck. Some of those guys actually take it seriously. Don’t feel too bad if you get tripped.”

Brendon laughed.

-

The next day was the first day of classes and Ryan was not too enthused to be putting on his warm weather uniform. Sure, the dress shirt was short sleeved and the blazer was a thinner, warm weather jacket, but still. It was a uniform. Not to mention he had to wear a tie.

Brendon, on the other hand, seemed right at home in his uniform and Ryan couldn’t help but notice the enthusiasm in his roommate as they walked to their first class after breakfast, one they happened to share. Unfortunately it was pre-calculus and Ryan was already dreading the amount of work he would get from Ms. Halls, the well meaning, but strict math teacher. Ryan and Brendon snagged a pair of desks next to the windows opposite the door. Ryan knew it wouldn’t help his math grade, but he really did enjoy gazing out the large bay windows when class was slow.

At the end of class, Ryan bumped elbows with Brendon and asked if he wanted to be study partners.

“Sure. Then we can fail in a glorious blaze together.”

Ryan snorted and parted ways with Brendon, going on to his next class. By the end of the day, Ryan felt himself already worn down by his full schedule. Still, he was happy about sharing a lot of classes with his friends. Besides pre-calculus, Ryan also had his Latin III class with Brendon. He and Spencer shared his Chemistry class and AP American Literature class together. His surprise, though, came at the end of the day when he found himself in his small creative writing class with Gerard. Gerard’s short hair was styled well and parted to one side. He wore his blazer unbuttoned. As Gerard sat straight in his chair with rapt attention. Ryan, on his part, paid him little mind. The only other person who really interacted with Gerard was Gerard's little brother, a freshman named Mikey.

When Ryan arrived at his room after his Creative Writing class, his last class of the day, he flung himself on his bed and began mentally preparing himself for two hours of cross country that afternoon. Luckily, he had time, as it started at four o’clock sharp and it was only two-thirty. Brendon appeared in his room soon after Ryan had and similarly kicked off his shoes, dropped his bag, and dragged himself to his own bed.

“Okay, I think...I think I’m too tired to move from this spot for the rest of the day,” Brendon groaned, face buried in his pillow.

Ryan snorted, borrowing his head deeper into his own pillows.

“I think I may be too tired to live,” Ryan spoke, words muffled by his pillows. “Say, would you put me out of my misery?”

Brendon surprised Ryan with his sudden, deep laughter, as Brendon clung to his pillow, muffling said laughs. Ryan snorted and rolled over.

“Since I’m much closer to my own demise, would you mind keeping an eye on the clock and wake me up when it’s three-thirty? Coach Bernard wouldn’t even hesitate to make me run laps if I’m late to cross-country.”

Brendon gave him the affirmative and Ryan drifted quickly to sleep. The nap did him good, though he was still pretty tired when he woke up at three-thirty. He and Brendon both changed in their rooms into their respective sports wear. Ryan wore a pair of basketball shorts and a black t-shirt. Brendon’s own outfit was similar, though his t-shirt was white and more fitted than Ryan’s, clinging to his own skinny form. They both left the room, Brendon carrying a pair of beaten up, grass-stained cleats. Ryan was just happy that all he needed were the shoes on his feet.

They parted outside the dorms, Brendon heading for the lacrosse pitch on the left side of the school and Ryan heading towards the front to meet up with the cross-country team on the lawn. Ryan didn’t drag his feet as much as other people did going up to meet his team. Even though he was a little low-energy, he knew first day practices were all about introductions and easing into the sport. His coach could be a hardass, but he was also pretty relaxed with the team when he knew they were. They would probably do some team stretching and then make their way to the back of the school where they would run the trails. Ryan would appreciate the shade from the trees, considering the fact that sweat was already starting to bead on his brow and roll down his back.

Getting up towards the front, Ryan a group already gathered, some talking, other stretching. One looked over at him and waved. William. Ryan sighed and gave a half-hearted wave back. Here’s to another good season.

-

William partnered up with Ryan almost immediately for group stretching and had this annoying quirk where he tried to talk Ryan’s head off whenever he had a moment. Ryan’s not even sure what he talked about half the time because Ryan had that amazing ability to quickly change most annoying sounds into white noise. William was blissfully unaware.

Even on the team’s way over to the back of the school to do some trail running didn’t save Ryan from William talking his head off. Ryan wondered how Adam ever put up with this. As they were passing by the lacrosse field, Ryan looked over to see if he could find Spencer or Brendon. Spencer was easy to spot, already standing in his spot as goalie, ready for their scrimmage to start. Ryan caught sight of Brendon, clutching his lacrosse stick towards the right of the field. Brendon seemed to notice Ryan at the same time and straightened up to wave at him. Ryan waved back, but then winced (and chuckled, just a little bit) as Brendon was knocked down by another player who was carrying the ball. Poor Brendon hadn’t even noticed that the scrimmage had started.

The first hour of practice would just be running on a trail of your choosing. They weren’t too difficult and would only take about half an hour to run them. Only forty or so minutes for the new runners. Hitting the trails made Ryan feel a little more free. He diverged from most of the team, hitting the trail to the right. William waved at him and hit the trail in the center. While annoying for the most part, Ryan did appreciate William’s competitiveness in cross country. Both of them were some of the best runners on the team, with William holding the second best 5k runtime and Ryan holding the third. While Ryan didn’t take it as seriously as William, he and William did have this friendly rivalry going on and Ryan really wanted to beat William’s time before William graduated.

He had taken the trail to the right rather than the one on the left or in the center. Technically, it was a shorter trail, but it had this awful, steep hill you would have to either run up or down on. Running up, obviously, was a pain in the ass, but running down meant possibly falling down. Most runners found it hard to keep pace on it and so took the other trails. But Ryan liked it for the sole reason that it was mostly empty. Only him and a few others even tried to run it. Though it was still taken care of by groundskeepers, it was overgrown along the edges of the trail. Ryan thought that even the trees seemed a little thicker and a little denser on this side.

Ryan was behind all the others who had entered the trail, running more leisurely than normal. He just wanted to enjoy his time out there before he would have to start thinking competitively again. There was a slight breeze that brushed against him, licking away at the sweat forming on his brow. He enjoyed the breeze and the little relief it gave him. He let his mind wander and he thought about the start of the year and first day of classes.

He thought about his dad at home, alone now, but how he would also be waiting for Ryan’s call at four-thirty that afternoon, six-thirty for Ryan. He thought about his friends at school, Spencer and Jon, and what they might get up to before Jon graduates. He thought about William, on the other trail and how he really wanted to beat his time that year. He thought about Brent and how he didn’t come back. He thought about Brendon, his new roommate who was kind of quiet at first, but really you just had to get him to start talking and then he might not stop. He thought about Brendon and his thick glasses and dark hair and nerdy clothes. He thought about how Brendon had been knocked over when he had tried to wave at Ryan passing by. He thought about Brendon and his eager smile and cautious eyes and his utterly palpable want for acceptance. And then he stopped thinking about Brendon and ran faster along the trail and to the hill and up the hill without hardly slowing down.

-

After they had run the trails in the first half, the team was directed to the basement gym to do individual strength training. Ryan didn’t like that as much as just running. He wasn’t all that strong and struggled lifting anything above the fifty pound weights. Still, he only had to suffer for an hour before they were dismissed for dinner. As starved as Ryan felt he was, he decided this would be a perfect time to catch a shower before they were swarmed by all the other sweaty boys. He lugged himself up the stairs, legs feeling like they would buckle after the first day of a trimester of long practices.

Opening his door, he saw Brendon sitting on his bed, tying his sneakers. His hair was wet, but not dripping. He had toweled it off. Ryan kicked off his own sneakers without untying them and toed off his socks. He grabbed his own shower stuff before turning towards Brendon.

“You get out early?”

“Yep,” Brendon said, lips smacking on the P.

Ryan sighed. “Lucky bitch.”

Brendon looked at him a beat before grinning, snickering a little.

“Oh, don’t worry. Coach said he’d give us plenty of back-breaking practices in the future. Expect me to come back in a body bag at some point.”

Ryan laughed and told Brendon not to wait up for him for dinner; he’d meet them in the dining hall in fifteen or so. He tried to enjoy any alone time he could get. It was more or less a sure thing that the bathrooms would be empty at dinner.

-

Dinner had been typical, all of them talking about their first day of classes and sports. Both Ryan and Spencer took turns in talking about Brendon being bowled over by a senior on the lacrosse team when he hadn’t been paying attention. That got quite a round of laughs, even from Brendon whose cheeks were flushed in slight embarrassment, but the bright smile on his face told Ryan that he didn’t take it hard.

Jon told them of his hopes for the football season, saying they had a couple of impressive sophomores join the team, not to mention Barnard had joined the team. Jon was still securely in his place as wide receiver. He asked Ryan if they could go running on the weekends, just so he can keep up his endurance. Ryan accepted, of course.

After dinner, they returned to their rooms, promising to meet up in the library for study hall. Spencer said he was going to go early and would pick out a table for them, somewhere on the upper level. There were three levels to the library, the basement level, the ground level, and the upper level. All of them preferred the upper level. It was generally quieter, as it mostly held charts, maps, dictionaries, thesauruses, and almanacs.

Ryan showed Brendon to the dorm parent’s room; theirs was Dr. Barker, the physics teacher for the sophomores. He was a skinny guy and could get intense sometimes, but he was pretty cool all the same. They signed their names on the sign out board for study hall, indicating that they would be in the library. If you weren’t going to stay in your rooms, you had to let the dorm parents know where you would be going. Then whoever was on duty for that area that night would come by to check and make sure you were there. The library was the most popular place to go for study hall, if you weren’t staying in your room.

Ryan played his radio and straightened his hair, humming along as he was careful not to burn himself. Brendon had gotten his stuff together and was just sitting on his bed, listening to the music from the radio. Suddenly, he perked up.

“Oh, I know this one.”

Ryan nodded and put down his straightener, having just finished. He ran his hands through his hair, feeling for any missed pieces, but he’d been doing this for two months now, almost everyday, and basically had it down pat. The warm hair tickled the back of his neck.

He turned the radio up and leaned against the back of his chair, one knee drawn up and the other leg hanging towards the ground, looking up towards the ceiling, listening.

“...pretty the way you are; you’re so pretty the way you are…”

Ryan smiled. “The Cranberries. Yeah, they’re pretty good. I really like their single, Zombie. It’s just really kickass.”

Brendon nodded, smiling at Ryan. “My mom has their albums. I think Dreams is my favorite song. Or maybe Daffodil Lament. But yeah, they are pretty kickass.”

The song finished and it was almost seven-thirty, time to pack up and head to the library. Ryan sliped on his sneakers, same as Brendon. Brendon had changed into a pair of sweatpants by that point and had put on a light jacket after Ryan told him it got cold in the library. Ryan himself had his flannel. They headed towards the library, backpacks on their backs, packed with textbooks, notebooks, pens, pencils, and miscellaneous paper. Brendon was even carrying two notebooks that wouldn’t fit into his bag.

“Study hall is kinda bullshit,” Ryan said. “Sure, we get two hours to do work, but it isn’t really enough time to get everything done. Say goodbye to your weekends.”

Brendon groaned, but smiled still.

They crossed the dark grounds, along with some dozen or so other students, between the dorms and the staircase that led up to the walkway between the building with most of the classrooms and library attached, Regan Hall, and the main building, Stumph Hall. Brendon had asked about the names of the various buildings around campus at dinner. Ryan hadn’t  really known who most of the buildings were named after - he assumed alumni or important families - but he did know the main building with the administrative offices and the dining hall attached was named after their founder and told Brendon as much at dinner.

Ryan left Brendon at the staircase up the walkway, telling him he needed to make a call home before study hall. He told Brendon how to get to the library, basically just going straight until he hit it, and how to sign into the library for study hall, so that the proctor could check off his name when they found him. He’d be on the middle level then and would only have to take another flight of stairs up to get to the third floor of the library.

Ryan headed towards a corner on the outside of Regan Hall and came to a little, brick staircase that led down to a basement level door. He walked down and opened the door that led into the basement of Regan Hall. Walking in, it was quiet, no students around that he could see. Right by the doors were the telephones students could use to call home.

He sat down in the little booth, letting his backpack slide to the floor beside him. He opened a small pocket in his bag, that had a little ziplock baggie filled with quarters. He grabbed the four quarters he needed to make his long-distance call. His watch said it was four twenty-five Las Vegas time. He dropped the quarters in and dialed his home phone number, remembering to use the long distance extension. His dad picked up on the second ring and Ryan smiled.

“Hey Moose,” his dad said, voice scratchy and warm.

“Hey dad. How’s it going? Getting bored yet without me there?”

His dad chuckled, deep breaths huffing over the telephone.

“You kidding? Now I don’t have to wrestle you for the remote. It’s great.”

Ryan chuckled, grin pulling at his skin.

“You missing the desert yet?”

“Not yet. Wait until I turn into a popsicle in the winter; I might miss it then.”

That got another laugh from his dad and Ryan laughed with him.

“How you like your new roommate? I know you weren’t too excited when you found out.”

Ryan thought for a moment before answering.

“He’s cool. His name is Brendon and he’s from Utah. He can do funny impressions.”

“Good, sounds good. Well alright kiddo, I know it’s almost time for study hall. I’ll talk to you next week, alright?”

“Alright dad, talk to you next week. Take it easy.”

“Take it easy, Moose.”

The dial tone sounds and Ryan hangs up. He sits for a moment before standing and lifting his backpack off the floor. It felt heavy on his back.

-

Ryan found the guys on the third floor at a table towards the back, surrounded on three sides by bookshelves full of large, old world encyclopedias and maps, some opened, some folded up. The lights were softer in the library, more orangey tones rather than the fluorescent horror that pervaded the classrooms. The library had dark green carpeting and old open bookshelves. Ryan would have called it comfy if it weren’t for the fact that it always felt cold.

Ryan and Brendon started working on their math homework together; a worksheet with forty-two equations, front and back. All of it was review work and it was easy enough to follow their notes and the review pages in their textbooks. Then he worked on his chemistry homework with Spencer. It was mostly reading and comparing notes. By the time they were half way done with that, the bell rang for a ten minute break in study hall, signaling an hour had passed, cutting the easy quiet abruptly and making Brendon jump in his seat. Somehow, the bell sounded even louder in the library than it ever did the hallways.

“I hate that fucking bell,” Jon said, continuing to read his textbook, underlining a sentence in it. He put his pencil down and pushed back in his seat, stretching his arms.

“Hey, Bill and Adam are going to join us for the second half of study hall, hope you guys don’t mind. Me and Bill are in the same AP Geo and Envi-Sci classes and Adam told me he’d help me out with some Spanish homework.”

Ryan stood up, stretching his arms over his head, shirt riding up and he could already feel the chill of the building brush against his stomach. Spencer had his head on the table, arms cradling it. It was his own way of using their break. Brendon was trying, unsuccessfully, to balance on the back legs of his chair. Jon warned him he was going to end up cracking his skull on a bookshelf.

William and Adam found them at their table a few minutes before the bell rang for the end of break, pulling up chairs and piling their bags onto the ground with the others. Both of them brought out textbooks, notebooks, pens and pencils to join the rest of the mess on the table. Ryan was forced to scoot over a little, William taking a corner spot of the table between him and Jon. They only had a few minutes to say hello before the bell rang for the second half of study hall. They dived back into work, knowing the proctor for the library study hall, Dr. Spedman, would be around again soon to make sure they were still here for the second half of study hall.

Ryan and Spencer managed to finish the rest of their chemistry homework, Ryan feeling relief at shutting the book. He’d had a hard time with physics the year before, but he could already tell that chemistry was going to kick his ass all year long.

Ryan began work on an essay he was to write for his AP Literature class, due next week, on the book they read over the summer,

Beloved

. He spent most of the last bit of study hall working out themes and looking back over notes in his book. He worked with Spencer, both talking about overarching themes in the book, making notes for each and deciding which ones they think could give them the highest page count. Spencer decided on the theme of owning “oneself” and self image. Ryan decided to write on guilt. They had only barely decided on their themes when the bell rang and study hall was over. Ryan was just happy it would at least be enough to give their AP Literature teacher, who happened to be Dr. Spedman, tomorrow. They packed up their things, leaving William and Adam behind, who still had work to do.

-

The boys ended up in Jon’s room, after having dropped their bags off in their own room. Jon occupied his desk, smoking a bowl with Ryan who sat on the edge of the bed next to the desk, knees pulled up with his toes just nudging the edge of Jon’s desk. They passed the bowl back and forth, being careful to blow the smoke out the window. Brendon sat in the middle of the bed, back against the wall, with Spencer next to him, sitting with one leg folded on the bed and the other leg hanging off, shoulder leaning against the wall. The radio was playing on a generic station and the boys were just talking to talk.

They grilled Brendon about his first day, making sure to tell him how much worse it was going to get. Brendon laughed along with it, telling them he’d much rather be here than going to seminary.

“It’s like more school work on top of school work, except they make it so clear to you that it’s really more important, cause like, your immortal soul and stuff is at stake,” Brendon said, smiling, running a hand through his hair. He straightened his glasses before leaning his head further back. “I don’t miss it at all.”

Ryan laughed, inhaling deeply and blowing smoke out the window. He felt light and good; relaxed in that he felt his muscles lose their tension, something he doesn’t notice until it’s gone. He passed the bowl back to Jon and leaned his shoulder against the bed post, turning his head towards Brendon and Spencer, tucking his hair behind his ear and toying with the hairband around his wrist.

“What’s life like in Utah?”

Ryan hadn’t been aware that he even had the question in mind. He wasn’t sure why he asked. Brendon looked at Ryan and then looked up at the ceiling, thinking.

“It’s okay. It’s really hot in the summer. Not like this kind of hot, but, like, it gets really hot. It doesn’t really snow, which kinda sucks, cause then you’re just cold. Maybe once or twice a year, but not really. Oh, and Mormons everywhere!” Brendon laughed, shaking his head. “You couldn’t throw a rock and not hit a Mormon. I don’t know, church is a big deal. There was always a church activity or something, so at least I was never bored.”

Ryan nodded, feeling relaxed, eyes half lidded and he knew he’d sleep alright that night. They didn’t talk about anything else too important, save Ryan and Spencer’s birthday weekend next week. This was news to Brendon.

“Are you guys planning anything for it?”

Spencer shrugged his shoulders.

“We don’t usually. We’ll, like, suffer through everyone at dinner singing the birthday song to us. We’ll probably do something as, like, a group.”

“And of course,  Brendon, you are invited,” Jon said, dumping the debris of what was left in his bowl outside his window. He shut the window, slipping off his desk and grabbing a bottle of air freshener that was sitting on the floor, next to his desk. He sprayed around the room, much to the chagrin of the other boys, who were batting away the overpowering spray, even coughing a little.

“Jesus Christ, Walker, at least wait until we fucking leave,” Spencer said, coughing into his shirt as he tried to cover his face.

“Shut up. Believe me, you guys smell like weed too.”

-

They all returned to their rooms, signing in with the house parent when they came down. Ryan was sleepy-relaxed, wrapping himself in his sheet, as much as he could stand, anyway. The heat of the day had soaked into the building, thoroughly, and even at ten-thirty at night, the room held onto the uncomfortable warmth. It was nothing like the library, which always managed to be cool. Ryan heard Brendon yawn deeply, the bed creeping as Brendon lay back.

“You mind if I turn off the light?”

Ryan shifted, turning towards Brendon’s bed. He shook his head, eyes half lidded but not all that tired.

“Go ahead. I don’t really feel like reading tonight.”

It’s quiet in the dark. Ryan has his eyes closed, but isn’t tired, doesn’t figure he’ll be asleep for a while. His muscles were relaxed, though, and allowed him to just sink into the bed as much as possible.

“How old are you turning?”

It comes from the dark, the other side of his bed, and Ryan opens his eyes, perks his head up a little.

“Seventeen.”

“Oh.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Spencer’s turning sixteen.”

“Really?”

Ryan grinned at the surprise.

“Yeah. He’s really smart. He had skipped a grade in, like, middle school. I probably wouldn’t be doing as well as I am in half my classes if it wasn’t for him.”

“That’s really nice of him, to like, help you out.”

“Yeah. I don’t know. He’s just cool like that, I guess.”

They lay in a comfortable quiet until they both fell asleep.

-

Ryan’s birthday was on a Thursday. His day was normal, more or less. Brendon wished him a happy birthday when they both got up in the morning, and Spencer did the same thing when they had class together. That evening, after study hall, they all hung out in Jon’s room, with the addition of William and Adam. It made the room a little more crowded, but it was fun all the same. William was less annoying when he smoked. Or maybe Ryan could just tolerate him more when he himself was high. Either way, he easily listened to William declare that they should have a little birthday celebration for Ryan and Spencer in the attic above the dorms. It wouldn’t be the first time Ryan had ventured up there; many students used it as a storage place for their furniture when they went home during summer break. Ryan had been up there looking for a lamp that had been misplaced. By now it would mostly be empty, save for the odd chair or couch, probably some lamps that got left behind. It was accessible through a few places, including a door in the senior wing, right beside Jon’s room. William thought it would be a great idea to get some candles and wine and go up.

Ryan was pretty sure this was a thinly veiled excuse to just use the board in the attic, but he also didn’t care too much. Maybe it would be cool. Maybe he could scare William. Why not.

-

On Friday, it had started to rain quite heavily after classes, big fat drops coming down, drowning the campus. The wind had also picked up, blowing through the trees. Ryan could see swaths of rain come down, like waterfalls from the sky. The cross country team met in the front lobby of the administrative building, rather than the front lawn. Coach Bernard let them know that, unfortunately, the exercise room had already been signed out by the football and lacrosse teams. That meant mandatory afternoon study hall for everyone else in the library. Coach gave them ten minutes to run to their rooms and get their homework and then to get to the library and sign in with him.

Even though Ryan managed to change his soaked through clothes and grab his rain jacket, he still felt uncomfortably wet when he got to the library.

After checking in with his couch, he found a table by a large window facing the soccer field and the woods next to it. Someone else’s books were at the table, but Ryan didn’t really think that they’d mind sharing. He pulled out his own books. He ignored his creative writing assignment and pulled out his pre-calculus to do first. Even with the writing prompt twisting his brain, it wasn’t nearly as hard as his pre-calculus homework.

He had only gotten through two problems when the chair diagonal to him squeaked, signaling the return of the owner of the other books on the table. Looking up to see who the person was, Ryan felt kind of awkward. Gerard was across from him, looking at Ryan similarly to how Ryan was looking at him. Ryan gave him a half hearted wave and Gerard just looked down at his books. Rolling his eyes, Ryan got back to his own work. Whatever. It wasn’t like Gerard was sociable anyways. Ryan ignored him.

As soon as the bell chimed for the start of dinner, Ryan packed up his bag and left Gerard at the table.

-

At dinner, Ryan sat at his usual table, Jon already there. When Ryan sat down, Jon gave him a smirk and Ryan pointedly ignored him, after, perhaps, sticking his tongue out at him. Brendon arrived next, shortly followed by Spencer, both covered in sweat, fresh from the workout room.

Jon tried poking fun at Spencer about it being his birthday week, and Spencer promptly kicked him. Ryan chuckled. Brendon pushed his hand through his sweaty hair, eyes slightly squinting since he didn’t have his glasses.

“So like, does everyone sing happy birthday?”

Jon smirked. “Just wait.”

Like he’d been cued, Dr. Martin stood from his place at the faculty table, ringing a small gong that sat beside his place. It commanded attention, hundreds of heads turning towards the head table. Dr. Martin had a powerful voice that commanded attention and the room lended it’s acoustics to make him heard.

“Good evening, gentlemen. I hope that all of you have enjoyed your first full week of classes. It is unfortunate we have to end the week with such dreadful weather. Now, I have a few announcements.” He straightened the circular classes on his crooked nose, looking at a small note card in his hand. “Firstly, club sign up sheets may be put up on the activities board across from the mailroom tomorrow morning, so club presidents, be sure to get your sheets up by tomorrow. Next, there will be a supervised visit to the town of Red Creek tomorrow, weather permitting, at ten on the dot, where you can shop and see the local sights. It is first come first serve, so if you were planning to go, best get to the front lobby early. Now, I do believe we have some birthdays to celebrate this week.”

Dr. Martin smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Would Ryan Ross and Spencer Smith please stand so that we may wish them a happy birthday?”

Both Ryan and Spencer stood with embarrassed reluctance. Jon snickers at their discomfort. Dr. Martin starts off the song and then you have a room of about two-hundred boys singing the birthday song, giddily with a schadenfreudic glee. Ryan partially hid his face in the embarrassment of being put on the spot while Spencer stood with his head held high, looking only mildly annoyed. The dining hall erupted in applause and a few “woos” at the end and Ryan and Spencer were allowed to sit down. Next week it would be some other student who would have to go through the public gawking.

Jon was laughing, digging back into his food. Spencer rolled his eyes and said “whatever.” Brendon smiled at Ryan and Ryan shrugged back, a grin tugging the corner of his mouth. Ryan would have to just sing extra loud on Jon’s birthday.

-

The storm was raging right above them by the end of dinner. The power didn’t get knocked out, though, until about a quarter to nine.

Ryan was sitting on the edge of the bed in Jon’s room when the power blew.

“Oh shit.”

It sounded like Spencer.

“Hold on, I have a flashlight in my desk somewhere,” Jon said.

There was some shuffling and the sound of a drawer being pulled open. Ryan was facing away from the window, waiting for Jon to find his flashlight and turn it on. Lighting flashed outside and Ryan caught little glimpses of the room.

“Hey Walker, could you hurry it up?”

William sounded just a little impatient, but more teasing. Adam chuckled and Ryan heard Jon mumble ‘shut up’ under his breath before, Ryan assumed, he successfully found his flashlight. The flashlight itself wasn’t very powerful and gave off more of an orangish-yellow glow.

“Jon, dude, that’s weak as hell.”

Spencer was unimpressed and Ryan could hardly blame him. Ryan was sure that a candle could do better than that flashlight.

“Whatever. All right, so we meet back here at two?”

When they had gone to Jon’s room after dinner, they had made a plan to meet and go up to the attic that night. They all have an affirmative before Jon helped lead them out of his room. The house parents were up with flashlights and had other students with flashlights help light the hallways. Brendon tripped on the steps going down to the second floor, nearly throwing Ryan down the stairs as he grabbed his arm when he pitched forward, missing a step. Luckily for both of them, Spencer was fast acting and grabbed Brendon’s shoulder, hauling him back.

Spencer just laughed, as they stepped off onto the landing.

“Shit Brendon, you don’t have to kill Ryan if you don’t want him for a roommate. All you have to do is ask for a switch.”

Ryan punched Spencer in the arm. Brendon just laughed.

-

Two a.m. and Ryan’s alarm sounded on his watch. It’s a smaller alarm, less noisy and unlikely to be heard by anyone other than those in their room. He breathed deeply, only feeling a little incoherent. He was used to not sleeping too much and so it wasn’t too bad. The storm was still raging outside and Ryan could just picture Dr. Martin “rallying the troops,” as he called it, the next morning and having the boys help with the cleanup that was going to have to be done because of the storm's damage. There goes that whole town visit. Maybe they would do it Sunday. Ryan was just glad it wasn’t tornado season. That would have been shit.

He threw his legs over the side of the bed. He was wearing a pair of dark sweatpants and a T-shirt. The storm had cooled down the school significantly; which was a relief. He reached down between the table and his bed, where he had stored his own flashlight. He turned it on, bright shining not brilliantly, but enough. He turned towards Brendon’s bed, crossed the short space between beds and shook Brendon’s shoulder. He didn’t stir. Ryan shone the flashlight straight in Brendon’s face and gave him a hard shake.

“Dude, wake up, we gotta go.”

Brendon jerked, mumbled out a “huh, wha,” trying to block out the light.

“Dude, what, why, the light,” he mumbled out, pushing his hand against Ryan.

“Come on, we gotta go, it’s attic time.”

Ryan turned his flashlight away and took a step back. Brendon seemed to realize what was going on. He stretched out, like a cat, all four limbs pulling their own separate ways. Ryan was pulling on his flannel and toeing on his shoes, socks be damned. He heard Brendon slip off his own bed, feet thumping lightly on the ground. He turned his flashlight to the ground, helping Brendon locate his own shoes. Brendon also pulled on a sweatshirt he had lying on the back of his chair. Ryan had seen it before and asked about it. Brendon claimed it had come from his old high school.

Before they left, Ryan went to his closet and pulled out a black cloth grocery bag. Earlier that night, before they left dinner, he had grabbed some oranges and bananas from the dining hall. William had told them earlier that week they should bring something to the attic with them, since this was kind of a party. He also had a small bag of candy, something he had picked up at a gas stop in Nevada before getting on his plane. He figured that night would be as good a night as any to bring them.

-

They had crept down the hall quietly, and listened out for anybody who might have caught them. The light from their flashlight had only hitting the ground, showing their way. The floor creaked with each step, small gasps under their feet. Ryan didn’t think such little squeaks could thunder, but when one is sneaking, he suspected squeaking floors made a great effort to sound louder in his ear.

Creeping past the house parents room was the most perilous part of their journey. Ryan felt Brendon like a shadow behind him, and he quickened his steps, hoping Brendon would do the same, but just as quiet as they had been. Getting to the senior wing let Ryan sigh and unclench his stomach. He tiptoed down to Jon’s door and opened it, slowly. Everyone was there, with flashlights and bags. Ryan didn’t even have the thought to speak before William raised a finger to his lips, letting both Ryan and Brendon know to be quiet.

Ryan and Brendon stayed at the door as the others quietly gathered their things. William had a particularly loaded bag. Besides the board, Ryan could only imagine what could be in there. Still, though, knowing William, he had a pretty good idea. Light bounced off the wall as flashlights moved around, mixing with the light from the lightning that came through the window, thunder still disturbingly loud. Ryan swore it was right on top of them.

They quietly made their way into the hall. Very slowly and carefully, using a bobby-pin he had, he fiddled with the locked door. Listening closely and breaths bated, they all heard a tiny

click.

Jon opened the door, leading into a bare wooden staircase. It was three steps up to a landing before the staircase turned to the right. They all piled in and up, Jon the last one. He closed the door, re-locking it from the inside, before following them up.

The staircase was dusty and old, with uneven steps. Ryan could look down and see a dip in the steps, worn down by time and many feet. It felt stuffy and hot and he hoped the windows at the top were actually able to open. He remembers seeing them when he went looking for some furniture one year; round circular windows. They reminded him of portholes on a ship. Looking out of them, he had seen just the tops of the trees, a big green sea, so maybe they were kind of like portholes.

William made it to the top first, the rest following behind. The attic was more narrow than the rest of the building, maybe as wide as two bedrooms put together. It was long though, and even with their flashlights, they couldn’t see the end. William looked practically giddy.

“Okay, let’s see if these windows actually open. I don’t want to suffocate up here.”

Walking over to the window, William fiddled with a latch that probably hadn’t been moved in decades. He had to take his elbow and force the window open and Ryan’s heart jumped to his throat thinking that William was going to break the thing. But luckily, the window was intact and a strong breeze blew in, heavy with spray from the storm. They opened a few other windows on each side, hoping to get a cross breeze and to air the attic out. The windows were so small they didn’t worry too much about rain getting in and the attic was so warm they didn’t worry about becoming cold.

William sat his flashlight in the middle of their area and rifled through his bag. He pulled out a couple of sheets for them to sit on, so that they wouldn’t be dirtied by the attic floor. Ryan and Jon helped him arrange them on the floor, spreading them out. Next he grabbed honest to God candles out of his bag, thick white one that looked like they had never been used before.

“Wait, I don’t get it, why do you have candles,” Brendon asked, arms crossed and confused.

“For the atmosphere, duh,” William said, as if it were obvious.

Ryan rolled his eyes, but sat down on one of the sheets. The rest followed, with Brendon plopping down on his right and Spencer on his left. William, Jon, and Adam sat on the other side. Jon was messing with his lighter, trying to get the candles lit. Adam was digging through William’s bag.

“Look what I brought.”

Adam took out a tall, dark bottle with a beige label.

“Dude, is that wine?” Spencer seemed excited at the prospect of getting a little drunk. Ryan was less sure himself.

“Yeah dude. I snatched it from my parent’s wine cellar before I came back. It’s not one of their really fancy ones, so they’re not gonna even know it’s gone.”

Adam sat the bottle down and returned to rummaging through the bag. William was berating Jon for his inability to light a fucking candle and Spencer seemed to remember that Ryan was sitting right next to him. He turned towards him, not making a big deal about it.

“Hey dude, is it okay? Like I know with your dad and things...like we won’t drink if you’re not into it.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, it’s chill dude, really. It’s all good. Besides, it’s wine. I don’t think you guys are gonna get, like, wasted.” Ryan chuckled and smiled at Spencer. Brendon was watching Jon and William, but it wasn’t too unnoticeable that he hadn’t heard the exchange.

Finally Jon got the candles lit and William had them turn off their flashlights. It kind of surprised Ryan how three little candles gave off so much light, even better than Jon’s poor excuse for a flashlight.

Adam had set up more things beside the wine bottle that he and William had gotten; half a bag of potato chips, gummy worms, and a box of animal crackers. They also had half a liter of Coca-Cola. Jon had his stash of weed and honestly that was enough for Ryan. Spencer got out a bag of snicker-doodle cookies his aunt had sent him a few days ago and Ryan was very excited for. Ryan got out his and Brendon’s stash of apples and bananas and the candy Ryan had, a couple of Reece’s Cups and some Airheads.

William did the honors of popping the cork off the wine bottle with a wine opener he had had in his bag. He gingerly placed the cork in his bag, so as not to lose it or leave it in the attic and took the first swig out of the bottle.

“Well, gentlemen, lets dig in.”

-

By candle light they ate, drank, and smoked. They talked about their week at school, talked shit about classmates and teachers, and told jokes and stories.

“Hey, did any of you guys notice Gerard going into the woods when we did the tug of war?” Ryan had just remembered that day and thought that it was strange that nobody else had seemed to notice.

“Gerard’s a freak.” William took another hit before passing the joint to Ryan. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He probably thought he was going to find a vampire or something.”

Ryan passed Brendon the joint, feeling pleasantly light. He watched Brendon put the joint to his lips, eyes half lidded, already feeling a little high. He breathed in and held his breath before passing the joint to Spencer. He coughed only a little and Ryan watched him as he was passed the soda and took a swig, Adam’s apple bobbing just a little. Ryan was distracted and nobody noticed.

Brendon put the drink down and picked up an orange, began peeling it, clipped fingernails digging into the skin. As if he had finally felt Ryan’s eyes, he turned towards his roommate and grinned.

“Wanna split an orange?”

Ryan quirked his mouth, an almost grin, eyes downcast and staring at the floor, the little space between it and Brendon’s sweatpants.

“Sure.”

-

Food eaten, pot smoked, and wine drunk, William had gotten out the board and placed it in the middle. They had arranged themselves in a more circular way around the board, closed in with the candles sitting at the corners of the board. Jon, Spencer, and Ryan were starting. Jon asked the questions, trying to see if any spirits could tell them their future.

“Spirits, will Beckett be valedictorian?”

It took a few moments before the planchette began to move towards the top right corner, hovering on the “No” before moving back towards the middle.

“Aw, Bill, looks like you can’t be top of the class this year,” Jon teased. William rolled his eyes, and lightly kicked Jon’s shin.

“Shut up. Ask the spirits something else.”

Adam asked the next question.

“Will we all be successful in the future?”

It took less time for the planchette to move again. Spencer laughed.

“Oh geez, I wonder which one of us will be a failure.”

Brendon laughed from his spot beside Ryan. He was leaning back, hands resting against the floor.

“Are you sure there’s only gonna be one, Spencer Smith? We could all be terrible.”

That made everyone laugh, the energy still light and the boys still feeling buzzed. Ryan couldn’t really picture himself having a very successful future. It was funny to even think about.

“Should we ask who’s going to die first? I mean, they’re spirits, they’ll probably know.” It was quiet while everyone thought.

“I don’t know.” Ryan’s eyes were downcast as he thought. “That’s kind of morbid, even for this.”

Spencer tilted his head, thinking. “I guess so. Yeah. Okay how about...spirits, is Jon going to get Cassie pregnant before they get married.”

The planchette swiftly traveled up to the top left side of the board, hovering over the yes. The boys howled with laughter.

-

It was now Brendon, Ryan, and William’s turn. Brendon sat to the left of Ryan and William was on the other side of the board from them. Ryan was the one talking.

“Hello, are there any spirits who wish to make contact with us?”

The planchette stayed still. Ryan waited, but after over a minute of nothing he tried again.

“Hello, spirits? We would really like to talk with you. Please, are there any spirits who would like to talk with us?”

The planchette began to move, a little slow, but steadily towards the top left corner, hovering about the yes before slowly going back to the middle. Ryan smiled.

“Cool. Spirit, can you tell us your name?”

It didn’t take as long for the planchette to move again.

“R...U...D...Y. Okay, Rudy, it’s nice to meet you.”

Ryan looked and grinned and Brendon and William before concentrating on the board again.

“How old are you, Rudy?”

The planchette barely took a moment before moving towards the numbers.

“Four...four? Oh, okay.”

It’s a game, and Ryan knows it’s a game, but he suddenly didn’t feel as comfortable with it as he did before.

“How did you die?”

Ryan watched the planchette cross the board, gliding easily from one letter to another.

“Hot...you were hot?”

Ryan gasped just a little as the planchette crossed the board some more, apparently writing an actual sentence, and Ryan could swear he felt goosebumps forming on his arms.

“It...too...hot. Thirsty.”

Ryan felt uneasy and Brendon looked a little freaked. William looked blank, but Ryan could see just a little tension in his features. Ryan didn’t like this and he didn’t know if William was trying to dick him around, but he didn’t feel like playing the game anymore.

“Rudy,” William said and Ryan didn’t even have a moment to object, “Is there anyone else with you?”

In a blink the planchette was on top of the YES and Ryan felt very done with the game, but Brendon was the one to end it. Before William could ask any more, Brendon had moved the planchette to GOODBYE and even said the word out loud. Ryan lifted his fingers off the planchette and looked straight at William.

“Are you fucking with us?”

“I mean it, are you fucking with us? Like this is fun and shit, but that last one wasn’t. I want to know if you’re fucking with us.”

William took a deep breath before leaning his elbows onto his knees and looking straight at Ryan.

“I swear to God, I didn’t move the planchette. Not one centimeter. I’m sorry you got freaked out.” He turned his head and looked at Brendon, who had crossed his arms and wasn’t looking at anything in particular. “I’m sorry you got freaked out Brendon, but I really do swear, I didn’t move it.” He looked around at the whole group. “Considering the history of the school, it’s not surprising that we’re finding freaky shit. It was a plantation. We’re in Georgia, shit happened.”

Ryan nodded and scooted back.

“I think I’m ready to call it a night.

-

They gathered up their things in the attic, making sure to close the windows. They stopped back at Jon’s room for a few minutes, just to regroup. Before William left, he took Ryan aside.

“Hey, we’re cool, right?”

Ryan was leaning against Jon’s dresser, next to the door. He nodded.

“Yeah, we’re cool. Sorry if I, like, seemed like a spazz or something. I don’t know, that last one was just weird.”

William nodded. “Yeah, no, I totally agree with you. That one was creepy as hell.”

William laughed, but it sounded a little strained. Ryan smiled at him.

William and Adam left, with Spencer following behind them shortly after. Evidently he actually wanted to get some work done before lunch tomorrow. Ryan teased him for being a nerd and Spencer shot back at him by calling him a future dropout.

Ryan stayed a little longer, nerves still frayed a little. Jon was kind enough to smoke him out. He and Brendon shared a joint while they talked to Jon about their time in the attic.

“No lies, that shit was weird,” Jon laughed, running a hand through his barely there hair. He was perched on his desk while Ryan and Brendon shared the bed. The window was open as the storm had fizzled. It felt nice and cool in the room as it drizzled outside.

“Do you guys...do you believe in all that, like...spirits and stuff?”

Brendon had passed the joint to Ryan, head leaning back against the wall.

Jon shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, Urie. Maybe? Like, I know my family’s Catholic, but like...I honestly haven’t thought about all that...like after everything deal. You know, we’re young, we don’t really have to.”
 
Ryan had his arms wrapped around his knees. He held the joint between his fingers, just this side of precariousness. He took another hit, before passing it to Jon. He had had enough. He felt light and heavy at the same time and didn’t really want to think.

“Maybe it’s just energy. We’re all just energy, something has to happen to it when we stop.”

-

Ryan and Brendon left Jon’s room soon after their conversation. Looking at his watch, Ryan saw it was nearly four in the morning. He took it off and put it on his desk before crawling into bed, making a nest out of the cool sheets, his skin felt flushed and all he could feel was relief in the cold.

In the dark it was quiet. Ryan was on his side, legs curled up, hands tucked under his cheek. He knew Brendon wasn’t sleeping, that he probably wasn’t even trying to sleep. Brendon was laying on his back, one hand tucked under his head. As his eyes adjusted to the only vaguely moonlit room, Ryan could try to guess that Brendon was just looking at the ceiling.

“Do you guys smoke pot a lot.”

He was avoiding almost every other talking point he could bring up.

Ryan stirred a little, lifting his head, just to show he acknowledged the question. He laid his head back down, fingers fidgeting with the ends of his hair, curling them around his fingers.

“Mmm...not really. I mean, Jon smokes the most, like a couple times a week. He smokes as much as he can afford it. But, like, he’s also cool to share with us too. Spencer’ll smoke a little, but he doesn’t make a habit of it. Me and him will smoke over breaks too, when I go stay with his family during Thanksgiving and spring break.” Ryan stopped talking for a moment, staring at a streak of pale light on the desk between their beds. He liked the glow. “Do you smoke pot a lot?”

It’s a bored question, as much as Ryan tries to make it, not taking his eyes off the little streak of pale light, barely fuzzy on the bedside table.

“No,” Brendon says easily. “Only sometimes. It’s not that uncommon. You know, it can get kind of boring in Mormon town. Honestly, I deal more pot than smoke.”

Ryan sat up, turned his head.

“No way.”

He chuckled, he couldn’t help himself. He had a hard time acknowledging that Mormon boy Brendon even smoked pot, much less dealt it. He heard Brendon snort across the room.

“Yeah. Even repressed Mormons need to, like, let go sometime. That’s where I help out.”

It was quiet then, for a few minutes. Ryan wasn’t asleep, and he was pretty sure Brendon wasn’t asleep yet either.

“I didn’t really start until, like, January this year.”

The bed creaked across the room; Ryan assumed Brendon had shifted into his side. He didn’t know for sure, his eyes were unfocused on his own hands, hair threaded between his fingers. He pulled and he could feel that dull pull on his scalp, a small sting. He decided to beat Brendon to the question that would eventually find its way into the room.

“I was going through some shit earlier this year, and like...it didn’t make anything better, obviously, but, like, I don’t know. It helped me relax when I thought I shouldn’t relax.”

They were quiet for half a minute before Brendon spoke in the darkness.

“Cope.”

“Yeah, cope.”

Ryan yawned and turned over.

-

The next morning, all of the boys were awoken by their dorm parents knocking on each and every door, opening said door, and yelling “Wake up, wake up, it’s a cleanup day!”

Ryan was jarred out of his sleep, startled at how bright it was, and, looking at his watch, just slightly furious that it was seven in the morning on a Saturday and he was being woken up.

He heard a mumble from Brendon’s bed, something akin to “Oh dear God, why.”

Rolling over, still bleary eyed, Ryan managed to slide off his bed without falling onto the floor. Brendon was sitting up, rubbing his eyes with his hand, hair disheveled and looking decidedly like he was wishing he wasn’t awake.

“Dude...why, what is happening.”

Ryan cracked his neck before shuffling over to his closet.

“If the weather gets, like, real bad and stuff and makes a mess outside on campus, Dr. Martin has all the students get up early in the morning to help clean it up. So, like, a lot of raking and moving branches and things. It usually takes a couple of hours, cause the campus is so big.”

Ryan’s looking through his closet, trying to find a shirt he didn’t mind getting dirty. Brendon had gotten out of bed, looking less dazed but still a little confused.

“Just wait for tornado season,” Ryan joked as he pulled some clothes out of his closet, “shit can get real fucked then. One time this old tree fell onto the soccer field and they actually had to get some guys to cut it up and haul it away.”

Ryan chuckled. Brendon yawned.

-

They were separated by grades. Seventh and eighth graders helped clean up in the garden and the outdoor walkways, grade nine raked leaves and removed small branches from the sports fields and courts around the school, and grade ten cleaned up the front lawn, making big piles of leaves and branches that had been blown off the trees. Ryan’s class was stuck dragging branches off the long drive up the school. Jon, William, and Adam’s class got the job of cleaning up the old school cemetery and around the church, plus cleaning the yards of faculty houses.

Different groups of faculty members were assigned to different grades, helping out and enforcing what the grounds men said the students should be doing. Even though the rain had cooled them off last night, the sun was soaking up the water and making it almost unbearably humid. Ryan was just glad they still had trees over them, shading them from the sun itself. He, Brendon, and Spencer were already sweating before an hour even passed, and with the way the road up the hill looked, they wouldn’t be done any time soon. At ten-thirty, they were allowed a fifteen minute break before getting back to it. The three of them had found a good enough spot to sit around and rest. Spencer had been nice enough to grab them some water bottles that the kitchen staff had brought out for them. Ryan greedily gulped his down, little drops dripping from the corner of his mouth. Spencer called him a fish and he didn’t care. When he had drunk three-fourths of the bottle, he put the cap back on and leaned back further into the tree. Little flecks of sunlight shone through as he looked up through the branches and leaves. He heard Spencer sniffle a little and saw, from the corner of his eye, Brendon pour some of his water over his head, trying to beat the heat. Ryan chuckled.

“You feel like you got character yet?”

“Huh?” Ryan wasn’t sure if Brendon had quite heard him.

“This - the work, it’s supposed to be character building. Do you feel like you have any character yet?”

Spencer laughed loud and Brendon just groaned. Ryan chuckled, head leaning back against the tree. He took another gulp of water.

-

At a quarter to twelve, with most of the road cleared, they were allowed to trudge up the hill to the dining hall. Instead of thirty minutes, they would get an hour for lunch before going back down the hill to finish the rest of the job. Ryan felt his muscles strain, like when he first started running again. His shoulders felt tight and he felt gross and sticky and really, really wanted a shower. He knew there wouldn’t be a point, though, if they were just going to send them back down the hill after lunch.

As tired as he was, seeing Jon almost made it worth it. Jon was at their table, head down, looking like he was taking a fevered nap. William was sitting next to him, hair tied back. He was poking through the food on Jon’s plate, stabbing grapes with his fork and eating them. Jon didn’t even seem to notice. Adam was on his other side, looking obviously very tempted to poke Jon. He looked up when Ryan arrived and waved half heartedly. Adam looked beat, eyes sleepy, and smile tired. Ryan sat at the table, groaning a little. He took a bite of the apple on his plate.

“What happened to him,” Ryan asked, pointing his fork at Jon.

William shrugged and Adam chuckled.

“I think it’s safe to say that Jon left a part of himself at the graveyard.”

They all laughed.

-

Around four in the afternoon, the boys are allowed to go back to their rooms before dinner. The road was more or less cleared of branches and debris, and the branches themselves were dragged up the hill and put into piles on the front lawn. A service would come the next day to take them away.

Brendon and Ryan left Spencer at his room as they made their way to their own rooms. Both boys collapsed onto their beds, aching and tired from the day’s work. Ryan in particular would be just fine not getting up again. He breathed deeply and tried to find some will-power within him to get up and take a shower, wash off the day’s work and sweat and dirt. Brendon seemed to find the strength within him before Ryan. Ryan vaguely heard Brendon saying he was going to go take a shower, as Ryan wavered between waking and sleeping. It was hot in their room, even with their window open and a little breeze coming through. The sun was still shining through, not below the tree line yet. It was quiet, with birds outside, and the muffled sound of boys in the hallway. Ryan faintly heard his own breathing. And somewhere in the birds and boys and breathing, he thought he might have heard a whisper. It was probably just the wind.

-

That night at dinner, Ryan felt more energized, hair still slightly damp from the shower. Spencer was tugging at it, poking fun at him for not straightening it yet. Jon teased him and told him he looked like Jim Morrison. Brendon laughed, mouth wide open, with nose and eyes scrunched up, head back. Ryan couldn't help but laugh with them, calling them asshholes.

Near the end of dinner, when Brendon was regaling about choir tryouts earlier that week and the three separate boys whose voices cracked loud in the middle of their tryouts, William stopped by their table. He grabbed an empty chair beside Ryan and looked across the table at Jon.

“So, did you tell them?”

Jon was halfway through a bite of his sandwich. He pulled back, finishing the bite, but now having trouble swallowing it without chokling. William rolled his eyes. Jon shook his head and managed to get it down.

“Not yet. I was gonna wait for you to get here.”

William sighed. “Well, I’m here.”

Jon looked surprised. “Oh, you want

me

to tell them?”

“Well duh.”

Spencer leaned over towards Ryan, a smirk on his face.

“Do you think we should tell them we’re still here, or do you think they'll figure it out,” Spencer stage whispered. Ryan laughed and Jon rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, Smith. Anyways,” Jon began, leaning forward in his seat. “When we were cleaning up the church and the graveyard today, me and Adam were around the back, cleaning up the trail to the road. While we were back there, Adam noticed, near the tree line, this dirt path. It was kind of overgrown, but you could still see it. So, like, Father Bishop was out back with us, raking leaves and shit and we ask him, where does the path go. And he says, ‘Oh, that leads to the old cemetery,’ and we’re like ‘what?’

So he tells us that, back when this place was a plantation, back in the woods is where the slave houses used to be, and like, their cemetery. And that path leads directly to their cemetery. Father Bishop says it’s all overgrown now and you probably couldn't find the actual headstones or anything-”

“They probably wouldn’t have headstones.”

Everyone looked to Brendon, surprised that he spoke.

“What do you mean,” Spencer asked, leaning against the table, chin resting on his hand.

“I mean they probably wouldn’t have headstones. Headstones cost money, and they were slaves. They wouldn’t get headstones. Probably just a brick or rock to mark the place where they were buried.” Brendon shrugged, like it should be common knowledge.

“Yeah, well, anyways, you still probably couldn’t find where they were buried anyways,” Jon continued, “but Bill had this idea. That we, you know, take the spirit board out there.”

Jon spoke with a secret in his voice, sharing what was obviously only for them. Ryan was intrigued; he’d never known about the old cemetery, apparently none of them had. He pictured weeds and overgrown grass and moss covered stones and boulders, misshapen ground where the obvious laid right beneath their feet. And to take the spirit board out there, for all that Ryan half-thought that it might be a joke, well, it sounded like they were creeping on the edge of danger.

“When?”

The voice was Ryan’s own, but the question was on everyone’s mind. William grinned.

“What about tonight? Come on, it’s a Saturday. We won’t really have to be anywhere until six p.m. tomorrow for mass. We could sleep in all day if we wanted.”

Ryan would not be sleeping in all day, but he could see himself getting up around ten and then having a mid-afternoon nap.

“Alright, yeah. Sounds cool,” Ryan agreed.

He glanced at Spencer and Brendon. Both nodded, agreeing to the plan.

“Great!” William had a cheshire grin and Ryan felt unease lightly flutter in his stomach. He ignored it, though, and looked forward to the prospect of scaring Spencer in the woods; it’s what he deserved after the library incident last spring.

William suggested they get some sleep before heading out. This time, they planned to meet at the garden by the dorm, next to the fountain at two-thirty a.m.; campus security wasn’t likely to be outside at that time. The little knot of apprehension quickly turned into a knot of excitement; it was cool to be sneaking out of the dorm and into the woods. Ryan can still remember when he was fifteen and had first met Jon. After a month of knowing each other, Jon, Ryan, Spencer, and Brent had snuck out of the dorms and onto the soccer field to watch a meteor shower. Even in the desert in Nevada, Ryan hadn’t been able to see the night sky very clearly; still too close to Las Vegas and the city lights. But out there, in Georgia, they were hours away from any major city and the town was mostly shut down by ten p.m. The sky had looked brilliantly beautiful; Ryan could even make out the Milky Way and he swears he saw at least a hundred meteors that night. It was the best memory he had.

-

Ryan and Brendon had checked in early with the house parent to get some needed shut eye before their night out. Brendon was buzzing with excitement; he didn’t seem scared at all. Ryan was glad he seemed to embrace this bit of rebellion; he was pretty sure Mormons didn’t like it when you “talked with spirits.” Brendon talked about how creepy it would be out there, but also cool because there was a full moon that night.

“It’s just too cool.” It was dark, lights out with only moonlight coming through. Brendon whispered, even though he didn’t need to. Ryan whispered too.

“Yeah. It’s pretty neat that the moon is, like, full tonight. Makes it even more mysterious and shit. Maybe we’ll see a ghost.”

Brendon made little ohhh-ing sounds and Ryan laughed and called him a dork. Surprisingly, Brendon fell asleep quickly, around ten. At about eleven, Ryan was staring at his dark wall, willing himself to fall asleep as well. He wished he had read a little before bed, or even just smoked. Something to relax him, but the tense energy was still running through him. It reminded him of Christmas Eve and how no matter how much he willed it, he was never able to fall asleep.

But then his alarm was ringing and he was being jerked awake, out of a sleep he had no recollection of falling into. He stopped his watch’s ringing and sat up, stretching his limbs, willing the sleepiness to go away and clearing out the fog in his head.

-

It was very much like the night before, getting up and dressed and sneaking out of the room. But instead of taking a right down the hall, it was a left to the staircase next to their room, then tiptoes down. They couldn’t use their flashlights, not while they were still inside the building, so they felt along the walls and held close to the railing. Once they reached the bottom landing, it was simply another left and out the door into the night.

William, Adam, and Jon were at the garden, sitting on the benches next to the big fountain. The moon was so bright out, they didn’t even need their flashlights, not yet. Jon waved them over, but put a finger to his lips. They had to keep quiet, so long as they were close to the school.

Spencer only showed up a minute or so later. They set off across the grounds. They went past the small magnolias that had cozied up the back of the library and then up a hill towards the back of the church. Ryan still felt tired from the day, and his legs strained going up the hill. He just hoped the terrain in the woods wasn’t much worse.

Jon was the one to see the path first, heading out in front of everyone else, flashlight turned on. It was just a little, dirt path, overgrown with weeds and grass, leaves and a few branches covering it, but you could still see it. The path was small, but the forest around it felt so huge already, just at the entrance. Ryan turned on his flashlight, felt like he was being swallowed by the darkness that was such a stark contrast to the pale moonlight that bathed the rest of the campus.

They walked slowly in, first Jon, then William, Adam, Spencer, Brendon, and Ryan brought up the rear. The ground was still soft, soggy, and their feet left little imprints. Ryan wouldn’t say so, but his back felt uncomfortably exposed and he looked behind him, every so often, to catch something that was never going to be there. The little ball of excitement was slowly curdling into apprehension and he started to think, well maybe he should have just stayed in bed after all.

Ryan wasn’t sure how long they walked, but not too long. They didn’t step into a clearing, but the trees seemed to get further apart all at once and Ryan felt like he could breathe easier without their suffocation. They all waved their flashlights around, trying to see if there was anything to look for. They spread out a little, too. Not too much, not too far to not see, but enough to get a feel for the land they had just stepped on. Ryan was trying to look for something that would tell him, ‘cemetery!’ or ‘once inhabited, now deserted!’ or something, but he kept finding his eyes drawn deeper into the woods, unconsciously looking for something that wasn’t there.

Yet

.

Yet

, his mind said, a warning trying to get through, but before he could even begin to decipher

why

, Brendon spoke up to the right of him, about five meters away.

“Guys, I think I found something!”

And that was all it took for him to forget apprehension and lingering fear and the questions because,

shit, Brendon found something!

They all ran over to Brendon, lights shaking and bouncing off the trees. Brendon had gone farther than any of them, off to the left, deeper into the woods. His flashlight was held towards the ground just a few meters away and they looked at the ground with him. They looked like little, sunken bumps, dotting the ground, seemingly random but in an order at the same time. Stones, some the size of their heads and round, some looking like misshapen slabs. There must have been two dozen or so.

“This is perfect!”

William was excited and he went forward, finding an area between the stones to set up. Ryan walked forward with the rest of them, conscious of just exactly what he was stepping on. Spencer stopped beside him, looking around.

“I didn’t think they’d be so...I don’t know. Like, well preserved.”

Ryan wondered the same thing.

“Well, it is private property.” Adam was over with William, setting up the towels and candles and messing around with the lighter. “It kind of makes sense. No one’s around to mess with them.” He couldn’t get the lighter to light, and held it up. “Hey Walker, could you get this thing going?”

Ryan stood and watched them. He also looked around, waving his flashlight towards the trees, trying to see how far the light would go.

“It’s kinda creepy out here, isn’t it?”

Brendon was beside him, eyes following Ryan’s flashlight into the dark woods. For as strong as the light was, the darkness seemed to engulf it fully and hungrily.

“I didn’t know how dark it could get. Like, out in the desert, even when you’re not in the city, it doesn’t feel the dark.”

Ryan quirked his lips, eyes sliding down, thinking.

“No matter how fast light is, it always finds the darkness has gotten there first.”

Brendon chuckled and Ryan grinned.

“You read that somewhere?”

“Yeah, the Discworld series, Terry Pratchett. I think there's a few of the books at the library in town. They’re pretty cool.”

“Hey ladies, are you ready to join us?”

Ryan gave William the finger, but he just laughed.

-

Sitting in the dark outside, candles lit, it was definitely very creepy. William, Brendon, and Ryan were set up around the board. The others sitting on the outside of their little circle. William had told them not to turn on their flashlights. Ryan almost called him a dork. It’s Ryan’s turn to ask questions and he feels almost nervous. There’s sweat on the back of his neck, yet he feels almost chilled.

“Hello. Are there any spirits here? Is there anyone who wants to talk to us?”

His voice sounded dry and though he thought the others couldn’t have heard it, he was sure he heard a quiver in his voice, a tiny little scream that something was wrong.

They waited, maybe two minutes, maybe three. It was strange, usually they didn't have to wait so long, but the seconds dragged by and Ryan teetered between nervous and impatient. He took a breath, half to prepare himself to speak again, half to help soothed the tightening of his chest.

“Are there-”

And then the planchette moved up towards the left hand corner of the board, and hovered above the yes before moving back to the center. Ryan was still. He looked across the board, to William to see if he felt it. William’s eyes were wide and there was a sweat on his brow. His shoulders seemed tense and Ryan knew something was wrong. He also knew he needed to continue; he just had to.

“Have we spoken to you before?”

He doesn’t know why, but he thinks he needs to know this, to know that if there are actually any ghosts, at all, if they’ve talked to it before, made any connection.

He thinks he feels a vibration in his fingers, a small one, one you would miss if you didn’t concentrate. The vibration travelled invisibly up his arm and he felt wrong.

The planchette moved, more quickly that time, to the right, to hover above the NO. No, this one was new and Ryan didn’t like that. He sniffed, nose feeling runny and he felt suddenly so small. He glances at Brendon, who looks like he’s concentrating on the board, bottom lip jutted out, eyebrows drawn. But he felt Ryan look, and he looked to Ryan. He smiled, breaking that harsh face he had been wearing and Ryan felt himself breathe a little easier and feel a little more secure. He felt safe looking back at the board.

“What’s your name?”

The vibrations were back in his fingertips, a buzzing that went to his head. The planchette moved to the left, over the P and then, Ryan could only guess that it was trying to go up when, suddenly, the planchette jerked and stilled. He heard a vague ‘what the fuck’ from his right, probably Spencer, but he wasn’t paying attention to that, he was looking at the planchette. Something had changed, and now the wrongness he felt was more profound and ugly. The planchette slid to the middle again and Ryan didn’t dare take his fingers off. That’s not how you played the game. And then the buzzing.

The vibrations were back, tenfold, and an audible buzzing could be heard and Ryan didn’t know if it was from the board or from around him but it didn’t really matter because all he wanted to do was to pull his hands away. He almost did, almost snatched them back, but he heard Jon say, “Don’t let go,” because that’s how the game went and when Ryan thought about it later, he would question himself, all of them, why they just didn’t say GOODBYE before things got to where they were.

The planchette stopped buzzing, vibrating, but Ryan could feel his arms still shaking. His eyes were only on the planchette and the board, waiting for what it would say next. It didn’t say anything. It had stopped vibrating and sat still and the stillness filled Ryan with dread. The dread didn’t dissipate when the planchette began to move again. Slowly, slowly it moved up and right and then down and left and then up and left and then down and right, little figure eights and they were too shocked to stop it. Ryan was getting lost in the little movements when he heard William gasp.

Ryan wasn’t quick enough when William seemed to snap, to remember that they did have the option of saying GOODBYE and Ryan, he let go. He let the planchette slide out from underneath his fingertips. William had jerked it too fast and gave them no warning. It seemed Brendon’s fingers had slipped too, as William’s were the only ones on it as he left it at GOODBYE.

“We need to leave.”

William had picked up the board and planchette and was stuffing it in his bag. Ryan was left on the ground, on his knees, confused and kind of pissed off.

“What the fuck, Bill.” That was Adam, and Ryan had to be honest, he’d never heard Adam curse at William. “What the fuck was that, what the fuck happened.”

William looked like he was ready to yell back, Ryan was sure of it. He didn’t get the chance to.

Deep, deep in the woods, Ryan swore he heard it. The vibrations. Audible vibrations, now traveling along the ground, shifting the dirt and moving the trees. It rustled the grass, bounced the pebbles, and made the graves grind. And under that, that buzzing was a groan. There was a groaning and Ryan couldn’t tell where from, but it got him to his feet, quick, dragging up Brendon without a second thought. They were frozen, standing and looking, trying to find where the groaning was coming from. The candles were still burning, but the light they gave off wasn’t much comfort for any of them. It was Jon who finally got enough sense to grab his flashlight from the ground and shine it into the woods. The other boys followed, Ryan fumbling with his flashlight, shaking hands gripping hard to the cylinder.

Time was stopped and rushed at the same time, it didn’t make sense and Ryan’s jaw was clenched, his bones felt shaky. When he thought back to it, he couldn’t recall seeing what William apparently saw in the woods. He could only just react.

“Run like hell!”

Ryan didn’t recall starting to run, he just was, through the woods, vaguely down the path that led them there. He couldn’t tell who was in front or behind him, flashlights shaking, bouncing off trees and ground and sky all at once. He remembered a growl, a vague, echo of a groaning growl, like it was far away, surrounding him. He heard a thumping,

thump thump thump

, like war drums, drowning out any other noise except the groaning. He almost missed the flash of color, the crash right next to him, he couldn’t even fathom what made him stop running, sliding in the dirt, still damp from the storm, sliding and falling and getting up again.

There, meters away, Brendon had fallen down, was not getting up and

oh shit oh shit oh shit

Ryan didn’t even think before sprinting back to Brendon, grabbing his arm, and dragging him up from the forest floor for the second time that night. The air felt tight and Brendon felt heavy and Ryan didn’t care, he dragged him from the spot, tripping, but running, vice grip on Brendon’s wrist, hand cramping, but it didn’t matter, because they needed to

go go go

.

All at once, Ryan saw a break in the trees and he knew that they were the last once in the woods. They needed to get out, to get free of the woods, or else Ryan knew, he

knew

that if they didn’t get to the tree line, right now,  didn’t get out of the woods, they were dead. Something was on their heels, biting at their feet, and Ryan felt all the air escape him, felt dead already, cold and hopeless, and the

thump thump thump

was getting louder, almost, but not quiet, overpowering the growling, groaning sound. And then they were out.

They broke through the treeline and they kept running, up towards the church then along the back lawn when Brendon collapsed, behind the library and Ryan went down too. He breathed hard, wretched the air right out, gulped it back in. He coughed like he had been drowning, and maybe he had been. He felt soaked through his clothes, covered in sweat, dripping slick down his back. Everything sounded muffled and he felt dizzy, his head suddenly struck with an angry pain in his right temple and he groaned. The only loud sound was the

thump thump thump

and now he understood that it was his heart, fucking racing faster than it ever had before. Brendon cried.

Brendon was crying beside him, legs crossed, elbows resting on his thighs, and his head cradled in his hands and he was gulping out big cries. Ryan could hear him trying to swallow them back in, but they spilled out, out of his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Giant crocodile tears running down his face. He was shaking so hard and Ryan was frozen, on hands and knees and looking down on the grass, he saw his fists clenched and shaking and he saw the water slipping down into the dirt. He felt his own eyes crying too.

“We need to go, we need to go, we need to go, Ryan,

please

.” Ryan felt Brendon’s hands grip his shoulder, hard and savage, trembling and scared. This time, it’s Brendon hauling Ryan up from the ground, and dragging him away.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

Before they were able to run up the steps of their dorm, Spencer threw open the door. Ryan couldn’t see his face in the dark, but Ryan knew his voice, shaky, relieved, and horrified all at once.
 
“Oh my fucking God!”
 
They were pulled into the dorm hall, everyone’s voices hysterical, but still trying to maintain control. They couldn’t wake up anybody, not at all.
 
“Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck.”
 
“We didn’t see you behind us and-”
 
“Just, we thought you guys-”
 
“We for sure thought something happened to you and fuck-”
 
Everyone's words bumped around in Ryan’s head, knocking on his walls, becoming entangled and confused. He had the beginnings of a migraine, and he was kind of pissed off, done with the night.
 
“I think we should report this.”
 
The first thing Ryan said was, upon reflection, probably a stupid thing to say. But it seemed important to say at the time. William gaped at him.
 
“Are you on crack?” William hissed at Ryan, and Ryan snarled back, feeling exceedingly pissed off.
 
“What the fuck, Beckett!” Ryan wished he could yell at William, really let him have it for dragging them into stupid shit that could have got them hurt. “We can’t fucking ignore this.”
 
“No fucking shit, Ross, but we’re not going to tell a fucking teacher, Jesus Christ, are you fucking twelve?”
 
“Alright, shut the fuck up, both of you.”
 
Jon’s voice spit out between them, without the stutter or flutter of either Ryan’s or William’s voices.
 
“Bill, stop being a fucking dick. Ryan, we can talk about this tomorrow, but we’re not gonna tell a fucking teacher. What the fuck would we even say? We snuck out? We’d be lucky if they didn’t kick our asses out. Now, we’re going to go upstairs and go the fuck to sleep. If a dorm parent finds us out here, we will be fucked."
 
They were quiet for a moment. Ryan didn’t know what to say. He kind of wanted to yell at Jon too, now, but obviously couldn’t. It was Adam who broke the silence.
 
“This is fucking stupid.”
 
He turned away from the group and started walking up the stairs, old wooden steps groaning under him, too loud in the quiet darkness. He seemed tired. Ryan felt tired watching him walk up the steps. William followed behind him, still pissed off, saying he would see them tomorrow. The rest of them followed. Ryan didn’t have any fight left in him that night. He hung back a little with Spencer, who had stayed quiet throughout the conversation. Ryan figured he was trying to think things through. Or maybe he was just done with their bullshit.
 
On the second floor landing, Jon waved at them and continued up the steps. Brendon went into his and Ryan’s room wordlessly, but Ryan hung outside his door, feeling like there was a conversation Spencer wanted to have.
 
“What do you think happened?”
 
Spencer’s voice was soft in the hall, soft like the moonlight that streamed through the hallway window. Ryan chewed his lip and shrugged.
 
“I...I don’t know. I know I’m gonna sound crazy, but I swear to God, Spence, it felt like something was chasing us, like, it was right behind us.”
 
Spencer looked out the window and ran a hand through his hair.
 
“We shouldn’t have gone out there. Man, like...we were really stupid.”
 
Spencer took a deep breath, shook his head, and told Ryan goodnight. Ryan turned to the door and opened it, closing it softly behind him. Brendon was under his bed, suitcase moved out of the way. His comforter was folded up on the floor, and he was laying on top of it, pillow under his head. He looked straight up at the bottom of his bed, hands folded over his stomach, like it was the most normal thing. The light casted from their lamp made the shadows look weird, like they were engulfing him. Half his face was shadowed, black eye sockets and black lines along his jaw and throat.
 
“Dude, Ryan, it’s dusty as shit under this bed. Like, I think I see cobwebs in the corners.”
 
Brendon’s voice was too light and there was a strain to it. Ryan didn’t pay much attention to that, he was just confused.
 
“Why are you under your bed?”
 
“You should try it.” Brendon wouldn’t look at him. Ryan didn’t know what to say, if anything should be said at all. He took off his shoes and looked at his watch, sighing at the fact that it was almost four o’clock in the morning. He felt like he shouldn’t even care. Another sigh later and Ryan was kneeling under his bed, sorting things around. Luckily, his suitcase was already stored in his closet and the boxes his stuff had been stored in were broken down. He made a kind of pallet on the floor, hoping for some cushion between his back and the floorboards. All he really needed to move was his dirty clothes bag. Then it was just pulling down his comforter, folding it, and laying it on top of the boxes and then grabbing a pillow. He was careful not to let it touch the floor; Ryan never swept and it was dusty under his bed as well. Settling down, it was a little awkward, and a little stiff, but he didn’t mind much.
 
“Okay, so, under the bed now. What does this do for you?”
 
Brendon chuckled.
 
“It kind of reminds me of camping. Me and my brothers, we used to camp all the time, with our dad. Do boy scout stuff, cause we could never join the scouts.”
 
“Huh.” Ryan didn’t have much more to say on the matter, just reached up and turned their lamp out. It was dark, very dark under the beds. Ryan shifted, tried finding a comfortable spot. He ended up rolling on to his stomach, arms tucked under his head.
 
“You know how, when you were little, and you were scared of the monster under your bed?” Ryan perked up, half interested in what Brendon had to say. “Well, if you go under your bed, where does the monster go?”
 
Ryan thought about the question, too tired to second-guess why Brendon asked such a weird question. 
 
“I don’t know. It probably crawls into your bed.”
 
-
 
Ryan didn’t remember falling asleep. All he did know was that he woke up with a very bad crick in his neck and a stomachache and that he could just kick Brendon for even suggesting that they sleep under their beds. Looking at his watch, Ryan saw that it was only about a quarter after seven in the morning.
 
“Oh fuck no.”
 
He lifted himself off his makeshift mattress, joints cracking, muscles straining. He grabbed his pillow and threw it back on top of his bed. He left his comforter under the bed and stood up, climbing on top of his bed, falling down on his infinitely more comfortable mattress, and promptly went back to sleep. Ryan woke up again around one. Brendon was sitting at his desk wearing gym shorts and a white-gray t-shirt. His glasses had slid to the end of his nose as he was hunched over a workbook for some class. There was sweat on his brow and he was mumbling to himself. Ryan did feel the prickle of heat and sighed, vowing to buy a fan the next time they were allowed in town.
 
Ryan cleared his throat, feeling groggy. Brendon perked up and turned around. Ryan could now see the front of his shirt. It read
D.A.R.E.
in hot pink lettering and underneath in black lettering, it said
To Keep Kids Off Drugs.
In the background of the lettering were splashes of neon green, blue, pink, and orange coloring that resembled paint splatters. Ryan snorted. Brendon looked down at his shirt then back to Ryan, grinning.
 
“Would you believe me if I told you this was actually my sister’s?”
 
Ryan chuckled and shook his head.
 
Brendon offered him food from brunch that morning (apparently Brendon had been the only one of them awake for the 10:30 brunch), which consisted of a banana and a blueberry muffin. Ryan accepted both gratefully. He sat at his own desk, mind still dumb with sleep, focusing on chewing and swallowing the muffin, wishing he had some milk to go with it. They sat like that for minutes, each boy at his own desk.
 
Ryan was feeling at ease until he heard Brendon clear his throat in a

hey, I’m trying to get your attention

type of way. He looked over to see Brendon looking at him. Ryan was feeling a little perplexed and scrunched up his eyebrows.
 
“What?”
 
Brendon held the look of someone desperate with the need to speak and Ryan was getting concerned exactly what he wanted to talk about.
 
“Brendon, what? You’re wigging me out, dude. What? Is this about last night?”
 
And he didn’t mean it to be, but his tone was accusatory, and he was really fucking tired, and he didn’t want to talk about this right now. He didn’t know if Brendon got the hint or just lost his nerve, but he looked away and shook his head.
 
“Never mind, forget it. It doesn’t matter.”
 
-
 
William ignored the group at the 6:00 p.m. chapel that evening, and wasn’t anywhere to be found during study hall or afterwards. Jon claimed that he had talked to William earlier that day, about meeting after study hall to talk about the night before and, according to Jon, William had agreed, had said he would swing by Jon’s room with Adam and they could speak on it. Spencer even checked William’s room, but neither he nor Adam had been there. Jon was pretty pissed.
 
“Fuck ‘em then.” Spencer broke through Jon’s frustrated rant, rolling his eyes and straightening up on his spot on the bed. “If they want to act like a bunch of pussies and hide from us, then fuck them. We can deal with it on our own.”
 
A silence followed, uncomfortable, each waiting for another to speak.
 
“But what is there to deal with?”
 
Brendon spoke with a quiet, but also defiant voice. He had been silent for the most part, sitting in Jon’s desk chair and tipping it back onto its hind legs, trying to balance it.
 
“What do you mean?” Spencer, who had been sitting beside Ryan on the bed, turned his head, arms resting against his thighs. His voice was stronger than Brendon’s, but wasn’t accusing.
 
“I mean,” Brendon paused, sighing. He leaned forward in the chair, elbows resting on jean clad thighs, head tilted up towards the group. “I mean, like, what would we even do? How are we supposed to talk about what happened? We don’t even have the slightest idea about what happened. So, how are we even supposed to discuss it?”
 
“We could try to figure out something.” Jon was leaning against his desk. “I mean, we can’t just say, ‘At least we didn’t die,’ and move on. What if there’s something dangerous out there?”
 
“What if there’s not? What if we just acted stupid and got scared over nothing. Maybe it was just windy. We heard a coyote or a bobcat.”
 
“You can’t be serious, Brendon.” Jon gaped at him, bewildered.
 
“I am. Honestly, like sure, William is being a pussy, but I also don’t think there’s anything to discuss. Like, let’s just move the fuck on. We scared ourselves, how embarrassing.”
 
Brendon stood up, stretching his arms over his head.
 
“And what about the board? That was nothing?”
 
Ryan leaned against the wall behind him, shifting his legs on the bed. They had grown numb. He looked directly at Brendon. Brendon stared back.
 
“Yeah. It’s just a game. A creepy game, but still just a game. It can’t hurt us.” Brendon was quiet for a beat, and then turned towards the door. “Look, I’m already over this whole thing. I’m going to bed.”
 
The rest of the boys were left staring at the door.
 
“What the fuck.”
 
Spencer voiced everyone’s thoughts pretty well.
 
“Ross, what the hell is up with Urie?”
 
Ryan could only shrug at Jon. He thought about that morning and maybe he made Brendon think he shouldn’t talk about it. It’s not like Ryan didn’t want to talk about it, it was just that he had just woken up and he was tired and frustrated and he didn’t have anything to drink with his food and he didn’t want to talk about the fucking whatever it was in the woods. So maybe he did make Brendon think he couldn’t talk about it. But Brendon’s also his own person, even if Ryan didn’t want to talk about it there and then that morning, it was his decision not to talk about it with the group and Ryan wasn’t going to take any shit or any kind of responsibility for Brendon not speaking up for himself.
 
Getting back to the room about half an hour before lights out, Ryan tried to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He found Brendon at his desk, head lying against an open textbook. 
 
Ryan grabbed his shower caddy and shower flip-flops (thank you Spencer) and was heading towards the door before looking back at Brendon and he felt that little bit of guilt as it gnarled at him.

Ah fuck.

“Brendon, I-I’m sorry if, like…I don’t know. Dude, we can talk about it. I didn’t mean to like, cut you off this morning or whatever. I was just tired and I guess I was-”
 
“Ryan.” 
 
Brendon still had his head on his desk, but now it was turned towards him. He looked tired, eyes half-lidded, lines tugging at the corners, stressed. “Dude, I don’t care. I thought about it, and like, it really was nothing out there. And talking about it isn’t gonna do anything about it. We scared ourselves, that’s it. You know, I’m over it, so let’s just leave it alone.”
 
Ryan could only nod, mutter out a small okay before leaving their room to shower. He stayed there for a while, almost embarrassed to go back. He turned the water hot and let his mind filter out everything,

It doesn’t matter, we were stupid, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t fucking matter.

When he got back, Brendon had packed up his books and changed into his night clothes. He was curled up on his bed, but wasn’t asleep. He changed positions every so often, his face pinched at the edges of his mouth and eyes and Ryan guessed that the headache was going strong.
 
Later, after lights out, Ryan shared some of his weed with Brendon for his headache and told him he would set an alarm so Brendon could get up in the morning and shower.
 
The next day, Ryan told Jon to lay off Brendon,

“No, seriously, lay off.”

Jon called a truce by annoying both Ryan and Spencer at the next night’s dinner by doing an absolutely awful imitation of Kermit the Frog and Miss Piggy fucking. By the end of the week, even William and Adam were talking to them again, acting like they didn’t totally blow them off earlier in the week. Ryan and William paired up at cross country practice. Ryan was able to let go of whatever the hell happened that night. It was just a stupid game.

.

-
 
It was a month into school, barely a week in September left, and Ryan was feeling like shit. The work had more than steadily piled on and he wasn’t so surprised that junior year was known as the worst one. Pre-calculus had thrown him for a loop and he hadn’t actually considered what it would be like taking so many writing and reading intensive classes, but there he was, staying in the library five minutes until ten-thirty at night so he could then sprint to his room on the other side of the school in time for check-in. Then, when the dorm parent had made his rounds, Ryan would switch on his desk lamp and continue doing work. He didn’t even feel bad that he was so happy Brendon was in the same boat.
 
Brendon wasn’t stupid, definitely made good grades at his old school, considering he was a fellow scholarship kid, but the classes at their school were much harder than any normal public school class. Add the extra anxiety of needing good grades to keep their scholarships, and misery followed. However, Brendon was lucky that all of the faculty seemed to like him. Unfortunately for Ryan, he seemed to have ended up on Dean Jacob’s shit list. Dean Jacobs was the Dean of Students and his office was right next to the main entryway. He had been on Ryan’s ass ever since classes started again. Ryan had gotten no less than three write-ups for “dress code violation” and had been pulled into Dean Jacob’s office twice to have a “chat” about how he, apparently, seemed withdrawn in social settings and was anything going on at home?

“I’m your pal, you can talk to me, Ryan. That’s what you go by, right? Ryan? We all just want to make sure you do well here, that you put your best foot forward.”

Ryan had slunk back in his seat, arms crossed. He didn’t speak much, but Dean Jacobs seemed to fill a whole pad on his desk about their “chat.” Ryan was pretty sure he hated him. Two more write-ups and he would be getting detention and grounds restrictions for a week, not to mention a call home, and he didn’t need his dad worrying about him getting into trouble at school. Ryan’s done his best to avoid going near Dean Jacobs office, including skipping breakfast most mornings or going the long way around to the outside entrance of the dining hall.
 
He complained about it often with Jon who, during his first few years at the school, also had a giant target on his back from Dean Jacobs.
 
“You know it’s ‘cause of what happened during spring semester, right?”
 
It was a Thursday afternoon before sports. Brendon was at choir practice and Spencer was who knows where. Ryan was hanging out in Jon’s room while Jon was getting ready for football practice.
 
“What, my dad going to the hospital?”
 
Jon finished putting on his shoulder pads and practice jersey. He looked at Ryan and shrugged.
 
“I mean, not just that, Ross. He probably knows

why

your dad was in the hospital too. Most of the faculty probably does. I mean, everyone knew when my parents were getting divorced, and my parents only told Dr. Martin and Dean Jacobs. I don’t think Dr. Martin would have said anything, but I’m fucking sure Dean Jacobs told

all

the faculty. Face it Ryan, you’re a scholarship kid who hangs out with scholarship kids. You’re fair game.”
 
Ryan knew Jon was right, and it sucked.
 
-
 
After dinner one night, the first week of October, Ryan ran up to his room to grab his books for study hall. Brendon had already gone down to Mr. Morton’s class for help on a lab report. Entering the room, Ryan stuffed his textbooks and notes into his bag, but he noticed he was missing one.

The Crucible

, a play he was reading for his literature class, was missing. It had been sitting on his desk, Ryan was sure of it. He searched high and low on his side of the room, checking every drawer, behind his desk, under his bed, even in his closet. It wasn’t hiding under his sheets or in his pillows and Ryan couldn’t figure it out. On a whim of desperation, Ryan checked Brendon’s side.
 
Ryan felt really shitty for going through his drawers, but he was at a loss to do anything else, absolutely positive that he had never taken the book out of his room. He moved on to the bed.
 
And, to his immense surprise, there it was, under Brendon’s pillow and Ryan couldn’t figure out

why

Brendon had put it there. What the hell was that about? Or why he didn’t just ask to borrow it in the first place.
 
Ryan met Brendon at the library for the second half of study hall, just the two of them and Spencer, since Jon had decided to do work in his room that night. Ryan had been planning on asking Brendon, right there in study hall. He even sat the book on the desk in plain view, kind of hoping Brendon might say something like, ‘Hey, sorry about taking your book’ or ‘Hey, I borrowed your book earlier, sorry about not asking you.’ Brendon said nothing, just continued chewing on his eraser as he worked through some chemistry questions.
 
“Alright guys, I’ve got this group thing with Teddy and Laszlo, I gotta run. Check y’all tomorrow.”
 
Spencer stood up and shoved his books into his backpack. He gave Ryan a fist-bump and waved at Brendon as he departed, leaving the two of them alone. After a few more minutes, Brendon gave a heavy sigh and closed his notebook, slumping down in chair.
 
“Ryan, pray for me now! I don’t think I’ll ever actually understand chemistry.”
 
He threw his arm over his eyes dramatically, slumping off the side of his chair. Ryan rolled his eyes and snorted.
 
“As long as you finish the work, man. Can’t walk in with your ass in your hands.”
 
Brendon laughed, leaning over onto the table, a good belly laugh. Ryan hid his grin behind his hair, laughed just a little and figured they both must be too tired if this is what’s funny. Brendon rubbed his eyes, and pulled out some note cards to help study.
 
Ryan tried focusing back on his work, but found his concentration had been partially broken for the night. Though he resisted, he glanced back up at Brendon, who was a little stooped over, forehead creased, eyes tired behind his glasses, flipping through note cards. Ryan’s stare lingered for just a moment before he looked back down at his own work, He’d forgotten he had been upset at all about his book.
 
-
 
It was about 6:00 p.m. on the second Friday of October and Ryan was sitting on the bleachers next to the football field. It was their first home football game of the season (pretty late, according to Jon), and their seventh game overall. They only needed to win this one and the next one to play the championship game, something that hadn’t been accomplished in the last six years. Generally most of the students wouldn’t have been so caught up, but this time around it almost felt important. There was a sense of potential pride in winning a championship game again.
 
They tried doing this, whenever one of them had a game or a meet. They had gone to Ryan’s only home cross country meet he had had, but that mostly consisted of them lounging on a shaded hillside as they waited for Ryan to cross the finish line. Lacrosse has already had two home games. They had all gone to the first one, but only Ryan and Spencer managed to go to the second one. Brendon had been benched for the first game, but he had gotten to play the second half of the second game as a sub. He wasn’t terrible, but he wasn’t great either. Ryan and Spencer had lingered by the stands once the game was over, waiting for Brendon to be done with the team meeting their coach had called after their game. Luckily they had won, so the meeting was short. Brendon had jogged over, cheeks ruddy and sweat glistening in his hair. He had the biggest smile on his face, so happy to have actually played in the game.
 
For Jon’s game, they had all shown. Brendon and Spencer sat on either side of Ryan, William and Adam sitting next to Brendon, all of them in their school uniforms, to varying degrees. Ryan’s tie was loosened and Spencer’s was completely undone. William wasn’t even wearing his. Brendon and Ryan both had taken off their blazers and just held on to them. Spencer was wearing his, but it was totally unbuttoned. Adam had taken his off and had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Even with summer completely behind them, it was still pleasantly warm out, especially sitting in the sun for the past two hours.
 
They had come, of course, on Jon’s behalf, as it was his first home game of the season, but for the first half of the game, all Ryan could think was that watching football was really fucking boring.
 
“I swear to God if they don’t win this…”
 
Within the last twenty minutes though, after a rough start, and two player changeouts, their team had actually started making some more touchdowns and catching up to the other team. They were neck to neck now, 37 - 39, so even Ryan was on the edge of his seat. With less than twenty seconds left on the clock, the teams lined up for the final play and all three boys had their eyes on Jon.
 
There’s the whistle, a play is called, the players scramble, and they just see Jon sprint towards left field, then make a sudden turn, juke another player, and sprint towards the end zone. 
 
The ball is thrown and the crowd roars when Jon catches it, sprinting hard towards the end. The boys are up on their feet, jumping up and down as they scream for their friend.
 
“Go, Jonny, go!”
 
Ryan had cupped his hands and screamed loudly towards the field, Spencer and Brendon screaming alongside him, William and Adam just as loud.
 
“Fucking run, Walker!”
 
As though the crowd couldn’t get any louder, the roar was exponential when Jon reached the end zone and threw down the football, just as the time hit zero and the buzzer rang for the end of the game.
 
William had locked arms with Brendon and Adam and all three were jumping up and down in the stands, screaming, “we won, we won, we fucking won!” Ryan threw his hands in the air, caught up in the excitement and adrenaline of the crowd. He felt Spencer grab him around his middle and lift him up, almost feeling like he was about to be thrown. He laughed and screamed and kicked his legs just a little, but goddamn fuck they won the game and the victory was for all of them.
 
The boys screamed themselves hoarse as Jon was lifted into the air by his own team and they knew they probably wouldn’t get him that night, but that was fine, he could celebrate with the rest of the school, because they knew they wouldl have him back again soon.
 
The next morning, even with his forty-eight hours of guaranteed fame for the win at the football game, Jon still sat with them at breakfast, blew bubbles in his milk, and did funny voices with Brendon.
 
-
 
It was midafternoon, after classes, but before sports, when Ryan found himself going down to Father Bishop’s office in the bottom floor of the library, tucked away into a corner, one you might not see at first glance. Ryan peaked through the open door and knocked on the siding, knowing full well that if the door was open, then Father Bishop was available. He would just feel rude barging in, though. Father Bishop looked up from a paper he had been writing on and smiled at Ryan, beckoning him inside. Ryan smiled and closed the door behind him, settling into one of two upholstered chairs in front of the desk.
 
Father Bishop’s desk was cluttered, but organized, much like his office, full of pens and pencils in a black mug, books stacked on top of each other, and pictures of a few people Ryan knew were Father Bishop’s family, specifically his brother and sister, from when they were younger and he had just graduated from seminary. He had a dish full of individually wrapped peppermints and a coffee mug that actually had coffee in it and not just pencils and pens. He had a small calendar on his desk that had daily quotes from the Bible, and right behind that a green desk lamp with a gold chain that you pulled to turn it on.
 
The walls of his office were just as covered, mostly by bookshelves, filled with even more books and folders and documents. The spaces on the walls were mostly covered too. Right behind Father Bishop, you could see degrees on the wall, one for a doctorate in psychology and another one from seminary school. On the right wall there was a split chalk/cork board, with notes written down and flyers hung up. Beside that was a crucifix, a picture of Pope John Paul II, and a picture of Mary with swords circling her heart. 
 
On the left was a small table with a coffee maker, with a box of sugar packets opened next to it, a container of powdered creamer, and a bundle of wooden stirring sticks. There was a small trash can right next to the table, with a fresh grocery bag in it, one that he used to substitute a trash bag. There was a goofy inspirational poster of cat hanging off a branch that said, “Hang in there.”
 
Ryan liked the office and had spent a lot of time over the years just hanging out in there. He felt a safe comfort from it, much like he felt from the man across from him.
 
Father Bishop was older than most of the faculty at the school, even older than Ryan’s dad, who himself was in his sixties. Even so, he always seemed so lively. He always pitched in at school activities, even joined in during faculty basketball tournaments. He’d run around, not as fast as most, and he needed a knee brace, but he always gave it his all. And now, sitting across from him, looking at his shining eyes behind round John Lennon glasses, Ryan couldn’t believe that he was actually leaving.
 
“Ryan, so good to see you. I’m sorry we haven’t been able to catch up this semester, how have you been? How’s George?”
 
Ryan smiled and leaned back into his chair. “I’m good. Dad’s been doing really good. We had a really good summer. We did, like, a lot of trips and things.”
 
“Yes, y’all went to the Grand Canyon, right? And y’all camped at Great Basin. That must’ve been something.”
 
“You guys talked?”
 
Ryan knew his dad and Father Bishop talked sometimes. The first time they had arrived at school, they had just gravitated towards each other. His father was a lapsed Catholic in his own right, never bothering to put Ryan through Catechism classes, never even bothering to baptize him. But there was a reason his father chose a Catholic school. So that first day of move in, George fiddled with the folders and papers that needed signing and Ryan, just shy of hitting his growth spurt, hid around the side of his father and stared at the ground, pissed off about being shipped away.
 
Father Bishop was there, in the foyer, greeting new students, catching up with old ones, and speaking with parents. Ryan wasn’t sure if they were just some new family he saw, or if there was something else, but either way, he walked towards them and introduced himself. Ryan is a little guilty to admit that he did not give a shit about this priest, that he didn’t look him in the eye, he kept staring at the floor. But his dad put a hand on his shoulder and introduced Ryan and then himself. It took about two minutes to discover the fact that both men were Chicago Cubs fans and oh man, this season was looking interesting.
 
Of course being all of twelve at the time, Ryan couldn’t really give a shit about an old, Catholic priest. Throughout that first year, though, Father Bishop was probably the only adult who was actually able to talk to Ryan on what felt like an even plane. Ryan felt seen and felt that his ideas and feelings were respected. So even though Ryan wasn’t Catholic, didn’t even really believe in God, he believed in Father Bishop. He believed he was seen and understood and that’s all he ever really wanted.
 
So when he asked the question, “You guys talked,” it wasn’t accusing or defensive. Ryan knew Father Bishop wouldn’t go behind his back like that.
 
The Father smiled, nodding his head.
 
“Oh yeah. George called me on move-in, probably while you were still up in the air.” Father Bishop chuckled. “Just wanted to see how things were going here. Had a good talk, a little about you, mostly about baseball.” Again, Father Bishop chuckled and even Ryan snorted. “I was sorry to have to tell him that this would be my last year.”
 
The mood shifted and Father Bishop even looked sorry. Ryan fiddled with the hem of his blazer. He didn’t want to look Father Bishop in the eye, so he looked at the desk.
 
“Why do you have to go?” Ryan focused even more on the desk.
 
The Father sighed. “Oh Ryan. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m getting old, son. I can’t shake it like I used to, especially with you boys.” He looked at Ryan, letting the quiet fill in. Ryan raised his eyes, just a little, enough to look at Father Bishop.
 
“Ryan, I really am sorry.” The Father’s voice was quiet and sad sounding. He paused a moment, before speaking again. “Ryan, I’m going to tell you this in confidence.”
 
That made Ryan look up, look him in the eyes fully. Ryan nodded his head.
 
“Ryan, I had a stroke, back in June.”
 
He felt like he was punched in the chest. It was similar to how he felt when he got the phone call about his dad.
 
“Wh-are you okay?”
 
“I don’t mean to scare you, I’ve almost made a full recovery. You won’t see me legging it with the track team,” Father Bishop laughed at himself, “but I can still get around. Don’t even need a cane. However, I do take it as a sign that I need to shift gears to a slower pace of life.”
 
Ryan found himself nodding, of course.

Jesus Christ, a fucking stroke?

He felt somewhere between uncomfortable and angry. His eyes strayed down, focusing on nothing at all.

A fucking stroke.

Ryan felt slightly queasy, the surprise wearing off. 
 
“I’m so sorry.” Ryan had looked up to Father Bishop, not his eyes, but just passed them. He felt his teeth clench and he was now he felt a horrible itch to leave, wishes he hadn’t even brought the topic of Father Bishop leaving up. He holds back a groan or a whine, he can’t tell, can barely look Father Bishop in the eye, can only see the man’s sudden worry in his periphery.
 
“I’m so sorry.”
 
-
 
It was Sunday night and Ryan and Brendon were getting ready for bed. Both had already taken their showers and Ryan was finishing up some sentence translations for Latin while Brendon read cross-legged on his bed. Unfortunately it was an English assignment rather than his own choosing.
 
“Alright, what do you think?”
 
Ryan turned his head towards Brendon, tucking his pencil behind his ear. He arched his eyebrow, signaling for Brendon to go on.
 
Brendon folded the page down to keep his place and threw the book on his desk.
 
“So, you read it already, do you think Ophelia killed herself, or was it an accident?”
 
“Uuughh.”
 
Ryan rolled his eyes and closed his notebook, vowing to finish the last two sentences in the morning. He placed his pencil on his desk and climbed up and settled on his back in his bed, starfishing, stretching out his muscles from what seemed like a surprisingly academically exhausting day.
 
“Nobody knows Brendon, that’s the big, like, question.” Ryan laughed, waving his hands in the air. “Look man, use your context clues or something. Or just accept you’re gonna do a shit job on the discussion.”
 
Brendon laughed and told him to shut up.
 
Ryan wriggled down under his sheet and comforter. The room felt cold. The heating wouldn’t be turned on until November, and even though it felt comfortably cool outside, Ryan had noticed that their room had a chilly edge to it recently. He didn’t know if it was because it was a corner room or maybe the tree outside just blocked most of the sunlight.
 
Brendon turned off the light and they both fell asleep rather quickly.
 
-
 
It was dark. That’s the first thing Ryan noticed. Pitch black, not even moonlight. The second was that he was dead cold. He shifted, feeling around, foggy headed. His comforter and sheet, he thought he must have kicked them off while he was asleep. He stretched his legs, cold toes poking at the end of the bed, trying to find them. He still felt groggy, like he hadn’t slept long enough, and considering how dark it still was, Ryan suspected he’d only been asleep for a few hours. His head felt light in a sickening way, almost dizzy. He felt all dead weight, body stiff. He was running a hand through his hair when he heard it.

Tap, tap, tap

.
 
The shock that went through him thoroughly awoke him, eyes widening, as if that would help him hear better. He stayed absolutely still, straining his ears.

Tap, tap, tap

.
 
And there it was again, someone knocking on the dorm room door.
 
“Did you hear that?”
 
Ryan nearly jumped out of his skin; he was so startled by the quiet voice of his roommate. Quickly, he reached over and twisted the knob on the lamp, turning it on. Brendon was looking right at him, head cradled in his arms. Then he noticed, Brendon didn’t have his comforter or sheet on him, either, or even on the bed. Ryan glanced down to the floor and saw both of their sheets and blankets strew across the floor, reaching out towards their door. Ryan sat up more, trying to figure out how either of them could have kicked their blankets that far.
 
“What the fuck…”
 
Ryan didn’t have a chance to finish his thought.

TAP. TAP. TAP.

Much more loudly, the tapping sound came from the door, almost like an open hand slapping the door from the other side. Before Ryan could react, Brendon had already sat up, snatching his glasses from the bedside table. He slid to the floor and looked at the door. Ryan swallowed a lump in his throat.
 
“You gonna answer it?”
 
Brendon gave him a nervous laugh. “You know, I don’t know.” Brendon whispered at him, voice straining through the sarcasm. “I thought I would see how long they would go for.”
 
Ryan slipped down and off his own bed. He stood behind Brendon and stared at the door.
 
“This is stupid.” Brendon took the three steps to the door and placed his hand on the handle, ready to open it.

TAPTAPTAP!

Brendon wrenched the door open, shoulders and calves tense. Ryan looked over Brendon’s shoulder. No one was at the door.
 
Brendon stepped out and peered around the door to the right and then to the left, even stepping into the hallway to look into the stairwell. Ryan waited for him, feet glued to the ground, not daring to move.
 
Brendon went back inside, shutting the door behind him. His mouth was agape and he was staring at the floor. He looked up at Ryan, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

TAPTAPTAP!

Brendon was even quicker at wrenching the door open, barely letting the third knock ring. No one was there.
 
“What the fuck!” Brendon sounded breathless and Ryan’s legs felt weak. How could there be no one there?
 
Brendon shut the door again, softly, looking through the gap into the hallway until he couldn’t anymore. Ryan couldn’t believe someone was fucking with them like this. They stood for a moment, waiting to see if it would knock again. They stood for a minute and nothing happened. Ryan breathed deeply, trying to exercise the tension from his body. Brendon slumped into his chair and ran a hand through his hair.
 
“I thought hazing wasn’t a thing here,” Brendon said, a nervous grin tugging at his mouth. Ryan could only look at him, eyes wide, a frown on his face.
 
“It’s not.”
 
Ryan wasn’t sure if this was some kind of fucked up hazing thing for Brendon, or if some guy just wanted to be an asshole to them for shits and giggles, but Ryan didn’t fucking like it.
 
“Dude, like not to be a bitch, but should we go-”

TAPTAPTAP!

Brendon’s question ended in a squeak, unable to even finish the rest of it. The tapping didn’t stop either, but continued, as if someone were hitting the door over and over and Ryan couldn’t believe that

no one

else in their hall heard what was happening. 
 
Ryan was the one who got up this time, Brendon shell-shocked and staring. Ryan closed his hand around the door and turned the knob slowly, frustrated and pissed off and also a little bit scared. Even as he turned the knob, the knocking kept going. Ryan pulled open as quickly as he could. He felt a flush in hi cheeks, but cold at the same time, a weird clamminess. His nerves were being fried and his stomach felt queasy.  There was no one there. No one was on the other side of the door.
 
-
 
The tapping went on all night. When Ryan finally had the mind to check his watch to see what time it was, it was almost a quarter to two. Sometime around 3:30 they had toyed with the idea of keeping the door cracked. The only trouble was the light from the room; if any other student, or worse, the dorm parent saw the light through the crack, it would be a lot to explain why both of them were up past lights out. Neither one wanted to think about sitting in the room with the light off either. The tapping didn’t stop until 6:30 in the morning.
 
Both boys were exhausted. Ryan felt almost sick from the tension that held his body through the night.  Brendon looked like he was on the verge of passing out. Ryan did and was awoken by his alarm at 7:30. There was an angry groan from across the room. Brendon rolled over and looked tired and annoyed. Ryan turned off his alarm, but stayed still on his bed. He couldn’t imagine dragging himself to class, not only because he was tired, but the fucking weirdness from the night.
 
Ryan was frustrated and angry and didn’t want to fucking go to class. But Brendon had managed to raise himself from his own bed and Ryan knew there was no way in hell that he’d be able to skip his classes, especially while he was walking such a thin line with Dean Jacobs. So, begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and put on a clean uniform, as neatly as he could stand to spend the energy on. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at himself in the mirror on the front of his closet wall. His eyes looked tired and red. He had dark circles under his eyes, and he couldn’t imagine half a night of no sleep causing that. But that fucking tapping throughout the whole night.
 
-
 
The end of the day was almost a relief. Ryan threw himself onto his bed after slamming the door shut and kicking off his shoes. He dropped his bag on his desk, but he couldn’t be bothered to care when he heard it fall. The fact that he managed to set an alarm for 3:50, so that he could wake up in time to get ready for cross-country, was a miracle.
 
The alarm blared too soon, and he was taken out of whatever inky black dream he had just been having. He was on his side, curled up, facing the opposite wall. While it looked like Brendon had been to their room, he wasn’t there now. His bag and jacket were thrown on the bed, and it looked like he had gone through his closet for something. Ryan guessed he had been searching for his cleats.
 
It was overcast at practice, but no rain had been predicted. They had a meet that Wednesday and were working up to it. The coach gave them a short speech about the importance of eating the right food this week, getting enough sleep, stretching, yadda yadda yadda.
 
Ryan couldn’t really give a fuck. He stretched his quads, holding one leg up behind him and standing on the other. Balancing was harder with how exhausted he was. William sauntered towards him, but Ryan had zoned most of the world out. It wasn’t until William poked him, breaking his concentration, causing him to stumble, that Ryan noticed him. He glared at William, really not in the mood.
 
“What?”
 
“Oh, sorry. What crawled up your ass and died, princess?”
 
“Fuck off, Bill.”
 
Ryan turned his back. It was like he could hear William thinking behind him, thinking on whether he should ask Ryan what was wrong or if he should just tell him to go fuck himself. In the end, he didn’t say anything. He just walked away.
 
-
 
Ryan was paranoid in their room now. There had been no more knocking incidents, but even just being in that room gave him a bad feeling. Ryan wasn’t sure if they should tell the others, even Jon or Spencer. Brendon had asked him about it, the evening after the night with the knocking. Ryan had cautioned him against saying anything. They had already gotten freaked out over the spirit board a few weeks earlier, there was no reason to bring this up if they weren’t sure what had even happened. Ryan did his best to convince himself that it had been some stupid prank by upperclassmen. Or maybe even pipes, some water pipes that were knocking against the wall. Those were sound theories, theories that didn’t make his skin crawl.
 
Still, though, he didn’t like being in his room more than usual. Brendon seemed similar. Brendon always signed out with him for study hall, but even Ryan would come up to their room to exchange books, have some time alone in the afternoon, etc. But Brendon had started taking all of his textbooks, notebooks, and folders with him at the beginning of the day and only came in when it was time to change out for sports in the afternoon. Ryan thought about bringing that night up once or twice, but what

exactly

did he need to bring up? Some knocking? Their night in the woods had been freakier and the more Ryan thought about it, the surer he was that there had been nothing all that freaky out there. What, some wind? Weird noises? It had stormed the night before, that’s why it was windy. The growling could have very well been a bobcat, or even a mountain lion. Dangerous, but not diabolical. Not a thing beyond their comprehension. And the knocking was so much more mundane in comparison, just someone being a dick. A very stupid prank. He was being stupid by thinking so much about it, by letting it get to him. Ryan could help but wonder if he was letting his fear from that night fed his paranoia about their room. He reminded himself over and over that they had been stupid to go out, alone, at night, but nothing was wrong. They had been stupid. He was being stupid. He needed to get over this, there was nothing wrong.
 
About a week later, Ryan forced himself to stay in their dorm room for study hall. He told Brendon he just needed some time alone, that he had an essay he really needed to get done (he did). Brendon just shrugged, said okay, and then left. Bedroom doors had to be opened during study hall and the hall parent checked on him twice in the course of two hours. And everything was fine. He finished his essay, he finished his chemistry homework, and he was able to do practice problems for his pre-calculus test coming up. Everything was fine. At the end of study hall, he found himself full of new enthusiasm. Why yes, he could stay in his room alone at night and not flip his shit, it absolutely was possible.
 
Normally, once study hall was over, Ryan would go to hang out in Jon’s room, or even go bug Spencer, but he hadn’t been able to feel at peace in his room for weeks, not until that night. So he checked in with the dorm parent early and closed the door of his dorm room, muffling the noise from the hallway. Ryansat down and just enjoyed the fact that he could be alone in his room and feel okay. He thought about reading a book, but then remembered his guitar, forgotten and neglected in his closet. He got it out and sat on his bed, fiddling with the chords. They were terribly out of tune and Ryan took his sweet time tuning them again. It took all of five minutes, but it was something he could focus and relax his mind on.
 
Ryan played his guitar, played songs he knew, played tunes that could be songs, and ran through chords for practice. He didn’t even notice how much time had passed until Brendon opened the door of their room, surprising Ryan. Glancing down at his own wristwatch, he saw it was almost eleven at night, almost time for their lights out.
 
“Oh shit.”
 
Brendon snorted. Ryan chuckled and slid off his bed, taking his guitar with him. He would forgo the teeth brushing that night, just regret it in the morning. He put his guitar back in its case and slid it to the left side of his desk, leaning up against the wall. He wanted to try and play it tomorrow too, to get back into the habit of it. He felt relaxed, more so than he had been in a week. He also felt very tired, now that the stress that had kept him wired had ebbed away some. He gladly changed his clothes, back to Brendon, and went to bed, snuggled under his sheet and comforter, burrowing into his pillows. He didn’t even care that Brendon stayed up to read, because Ryan fell to sleep so easily that night.
 
-
 
Ryan woke up suddenly, inhaling sharply. His eyes were wide in the dark and his brain was catching up to his body. He was confused and wired and was only starting to comprehend that he was wide awake. As the inky darkness ebbed away, his eyes adjusted, he registered a low whimper from across the room. He turned over in his bed, towards the noise. Soft moonlight filtered in from the window, and he could see Brendon, on his back, but head turning from one side to the other, whimpering and moaning in his sleep. In the moonlight, it almost looked like his blankets were constricted around him, pulling against his shoulders and chest. His eyes were scrunched shut and Ryan was sure he was asleep. Ryan sat up in bed, muscles resisting, head still heavy from sleep.
 
“Brendon?”
 
Brendon didn’t answer, of course, because Brendon was asleep. Ryan maneuvered himself to the edge of his bed, pulling his legs out from under his sheets and comforter. He slid down slowly off his bed, floorboards creaking ever so slightly. He reached out a hand towards Brendon, ready to wake him up from whatever nightmare he had found himself in.
 
“...nngh…”
 
That

had not

come from Brendon. Ryan froze, hand stretched out, fingers reaching. His chest hurt and his lungs wouldn’t cooperate. It was dark, but he could tell that wasn’t Brendon, it didn't come from Brendon. Ryan strained his ears, trying to see if he could hear it again, see if he actually heard it in the first place. Even if he wanted to argue against himself, tell himself it was late and he was hearing things, he knew better. He licked his lips, itching to jump away, run away from his room. But he was also so scared to move. If he moved, then something might happen to him.
 
A sudden, long groan froze the blood in his veins, heartbeat spiking in fear, sending electric shocks through his limbs, down through to his fingertips and toes. Ryan's head was frozen, looking dead ahead, just above the twitching and whimpering body of Brendon. The body that was now shaking almost violently, pained squeals coming from his mouth, and Ryan was deathly afraid he was having some type of seizure. Even through those, there was no question now where the groan had come from, Ryan's left ear twitching, head aching both to look and refusing to turn towards the upper left corner of the wall, right above Brendon's bed. His heart beat heavy and fast in his chest and Ryan had to force himself to breathe, brain filled with static. He was trembling and if he were able to, he would probably feel like a coward. He felt a chill on his skin, goosebumps dotting his arms and his stomach churned, acidic. He took one, two deep breaths and forced his eyes up.
 
He saw darkness, then a large silhouette in the darkness. It might have been of a man, but Ryan wasn’t sure, because before he could even comprehend the hulking figure, he was taken in by two bright, red dots, eyes he assumed, that glowed like fiery coal.
 
That was all that Ryan could see and comprehend before he fell heavy to the ground, like a man shot dead. He knocked his head against the floor, a heavy thump echoing in the room. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow and his breaths were shallow.
 
In the upper left corner, the glowing red orbs shifted, like a head tilting to the side. The orbs were trained on Ryan, never clouded or turned away from him. It reached a long, inky-black appendage down, down past Brendon, who was shaking, spasming on his bed, whimpering and squealing even more violently, to the floor, slinking in the dark towards Ryan.

-
 
Breathing hurt. Ryan cracked open an eye, feeling achy. His throat was sore and his face and head hurt. The room looked a dark blue, not quite day. He realized his cheek was squished against the wooden floor of his dorm room; his right arm bent at an awkward angle. He groaned, pushing himself up on shaky arms, confused, eyes struggling to focus. He felt mildly sick, stomach aching, his temples pulsating. He reached for the edge of his bed, his legs feeling strangely weak.
 
Pulling himself up, Ryan was struck with worry, not remembering another time he felt quite this way. He leaned against the side of his bed, putting a cool hand to his head. He didn’t feel like he had a fever and wasn't clammy. His brows knitted together, confused and worried.

What happened? Why was I on the floor?

He lifted his eyes, looking across to Brendon, laying in his bed, tucked in tight. Brendon, who was snoring softly. Brendon,

who he had seen in the dark last night.

Ryan gasped, memories surfacing from last night. Waking up in the dark, hearing Brendon whimpering in his bed. Ryan being scared of a noise, scared of a

thing

in the corner of the room. Red eyes, eyes that snatched his consciousness from him.
 
Ryan looked up to the corner of their room, but there was nothing there. He rubbed his eyes, and still there was nothing there. He looked around the room, saw nothing, under the beds, still nothing. His heart was beating hard and, with one last look at Brendon, he left the room, walking fast and scared towards the bathrooms. Bursting through the doors, he was relieved to see that no one was there.
 
Ryan ran up to the first sink. He could see a dark bruise on his right cheek, blotchy purple and red. He touched it with the tips of his fingers and winced, pain blooming from the touch. He took his hand away and turned the water one, splashing his face.

This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real.

It was a mantra, over and over, he splashed his face and whispered to himself.
 
“I’m okay, it’s not real, that didn’t happen, I’m okay, I’m okay.”
 
He barely had time the night before to feel any panic, he had passed out so suddenly. But now his panic had come, the panic he should have felt last night. His fingers were trembling, and he was embarrassed to see himself shaking in the mirror. He splashed his face one more time, then shook his head, trying to shake away the thoughts and memories of last night, trying to shake away the panic welling in his chest and stomach, making him feel like he wanted to puke.
 
“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine!”
 
He left the bathroom, walking with some conviction back to his room. As he neared the door, however, he slowed down. He looked at his big, green door, paint chipping around the bottom edges, and he did not want to open it. He did not want to go into that room, didn’t want to look at it at all.
 
But he had to. So he put his hand on the knob and opened the door. And it was just his room. It was his room with his sheet and comforter crumpled at the foot of his bed. With Brendon’s books piled high on his desk. With Ryan’s guitar leaning against the wall beside his desk. It was just a room,

his

room, and it was okay.
 
He walked into the room, still shadowy, day not yet breaking over the forest behind the school. Ryan finally had the mind to look down at his watch, to see that the time read 6:49. Just eleven minutes until his alarm would go off. He walked towards his bed and laid back down, mind quieter, his panic ebbing slightly. His stomach still churned and there was an ache in his chest, but it was one he could deal with. He laid down for eleven minutes, sunken into his mattress.
 
-
 
It was 1:57 p.m. and Ryan was legging it away from his AP Lit class and towards the library. He was overtired, not only from whatever that was the previous night, but also from fielding questions all day from people asking him what happened to his face. The bruise was blooming nicely, much to his embarrassment, now darkening into a blotchy purple blackness, high on his cheek and curling around the edge of his eye. Brendon saw it in their pre-calc class. Ryan had lied, had told him he accidently rolled out of bed. He skipped lunch, but couldn’t avoid Spencer in their shared chemistry class. They were lab partners, so of course Spencer immediately asked him about it. Even after Ryan assured him, he was fine, he fell, he caught Spencer out of the corner of his eye, glancing at him every so often, a worried glance and Ryan wanted to just fucking leave because now, almost assuredly, Spencer would go to Brendon and confront him or to Jon to ask Jon to talk to Ryan. If he told Jon about the bruise on Ryan’s face, Jon would absolutely make Ryan talk to him, and it was all getting so fucking complicated. Even Dr. Spedman kept him behind after the bell rang for the last period, asking him straight up if someone had hit him and, when he vehemently denied anyone touching him, if he was being threatened by anyone. It took almost ten minutes to get out of the room. 
 
So now Ryan was rushing to the library, trying to put his thoughts in order, trying to figure out exactly what happened, how much of it he could remember anyway. He thought back to earlier that morning, before classes when he and Brendon were getting ready to go downstairs. He had asked Brendon how he slept, just casual conversation. Brendon had shrugged.

“I slept fine, dude.”

Ryan nodded, pulling on his blazer and throwing books into his bag. He was quiet and hid his face, keeping his back to Brendon, letting his hair hang over his eyes, hiding his bruise because he hadn’t even thought of a story to cover that yet.

“How did you sleep?”

There was another question within that one, Ryan could hear it. Brendon wanted to know why he was being so weird, and Ryan couldn’t even begin to think about bringing up the previous night.

“Fine.” His answer was soft and clipped and he could feel Brendon’s eyes on his back. Fuck, he shouldn’t have said anything at all.

Talking to Brendon was useless. Ryan, begrudgingly, decided he needed an authority figure of some kind, to tell him a reasonable explanation, or to tell him that he was losing his fucking marbles, and the only authority figure he thought he could actually count on to tell him anything, really, was Father Bishop. Ryan didn’t like feeling like he was fucking losing it or like he was being cornered by something, because either he had a fucking seizure or psychotic break and had imagined it all, or whatever he saw was actually fucking real, and that’s the real terrifying bit. If it was real, some kind of fucked up monster-demon thing, then he definitely wanted the help of a priest over, say, a guidance counselor.
 
So Ryan hurried through the hallway to the library and ran down the steps, jumping over the last few, to make it as quickly as possible to the basement office of Father Bishop. 
 
The door was open and Ryan didn’t really have a plan, just barreled into the office, shutting the door behind him. He looked disheveled and wide-eyed and could only choke out, “I need to talk to you,” before settling down into the plush chair in front of Father Bishop’s desk. Father Bishop, obviously, had a look of great concern on his face. He was dressed down, wearing a school sweatshirt with his glasses perched at the end of his nose. Pushing his work aside, he folded his hands together, giving Ryan his undivided attention.
 
“Of course, Ryan.”
 
Ryan could see the look of concern in his eyes, could see them focusing in on his cheek and how awful it must look. Ryan didn’t want him thinking anyone had been hurting him, even though this must look like him confessing some kind of abuse. So, Ryan took a few deep breaths, collecting his thoughts, trying to think of how to say this clearly without seeming like he was deranged or making something up.
 
“Father Bishop, have you ever…last night, I woke up, and I saw…something. I don’t know, it was terrifying. It was black and, like, shadowy. A shadow man. I couldn’t really see anything, except it had these red eyes. Bright red eyes. They glowed like...like a stop light.”
 
Ryan paused, looking down at his hands, which were twisting nervously in his lap.
 
“I don’t really remember anything else. I think…I fell.” He pointed to his cheek. “That’s where this came from. I woke up on the floor, I guess I hit the floor pretty hard.”
 
Father Bishop nodded, head tilting.
 
“I was wondering about that.”
 
His lips made a thin line of concern and Ryan wasn’t sure if he believed any of this at all.
 
“I just-” Ryan ran his hands through his hair, trying to soothe himself, feeling a tinge of panic at the recollection of the events from the night before. “Why would I see something like that? What was it, could it be, like, a seizure or something?”
 
Ryan looked at him, eyes pleading for an explanation. Father Bishop cracked a knuckle, and leaned back in his chair, eyes not focusing on Ryan. He looked like he was trying to word something together for him, some answer to ease his mind.
 
“Ryan, have you ever heard the term Sleep Paralysis?”
 
Ryan shook his head. Father Bishop nodded, brow lifting a little, eyes looking less concerned.
 
“It’s a phenomenon that occurs during the REM cycle. In this case, when a person passes between being awake and being asleep. Their brain isn’t quite awake yet. Hallucinations are very common during this, which could explain your shadow man with the eyes. Usually, though, people are not able to move, hence the name sleep

paralysis

.” He gave Ryan a small, questioning look. Ryan stared back, but said nothing. “But it could be possible that your body was more awake than asleep.”
 
Ryan held his hands tight, eyes glancing down, taking in Father Bishop’s explanation. It was a sane, logical explanation, one Ryan had thought he had wanted. But it didn’t feel right. It sat wrong and uneven within him.
 
“So, this is normal. Like, there’s nothing super wrong or…I don’t know, there’s nothing, like, weird…going on.”
 
“It’s a possibility.”
 
Father Bishop leaned against his desk, fingers threaded together. He sounded concerned. He sounded like he wanted Ryan to tell him more, like he could see there was something behind this incident, a trigger or something. Ryan thought about the spirit board and the woods and the

thing

that was out there and suddenly he was seized with a panic that he had to immediately squash down.
 
“How’s your dad?”
 
Ryan’s head shot up, the question catching him off guard. He frowned slightly.
 
“Uh, fine, I guess. I talked to him on Tuesday. He seemed good.”
 
Father Bishop nodded.
 
“And his AA meetings. I know he’s going, don’t look so shocked, he told me he was going. But they’ve been going well?”
 
Ryan was feeling uncomfortable. This part of his dad he wasn’t totally comfortable to talk about. He was embarrassed, honestly, that his dad was an alcoholic. He was angry, too, but at this moment, embarrassment was winning over while he was sitting in front of Father Bishop. Sure, he was proud of his father for making progress in getting better, not only for himself, but also for Ryan. But he let himself get to that point in the first place, drinking so much that it nearly killed him. Ryan felt small, sitting in front of Father Bishop, cornered, and wishing he hadn’t talked to him.
 
“Yeah, they’ve been going well, I guess. I don’t know, we don’t really talk about it. I don’t really get why this would matter.”
 
“Well, sometimes stress can trigger these…episodes. It’s even been noted that soldiers suffering from PTSD have higher rates of sleep paralysis.”
 
“I don’t have PTSD,” Ryan bit back, defensively.
 
“I’m not saying you do.” Father Bishop shook his head and raised his hands up a little. “But I am saying, it wouldn’t be surprising to me that, if you were under some abnormal amount of stress, that maybe it triggered an episode.”
 
Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, frustrated and trying to search for the right answer.
 
“I’m not…I’m not under any kind of abnormal stress. At least, nothing more than what my classmates are under. I’m fine. Like…I’m fine. I guess I just had a really weird dream.”
 
The corners of Ryan’s eyes were pinched and he sat stiffly in his chair. He was upset. He had gotten the answer he had wanted, something reasonable, but it turned out that wasn’t what he wanted at all. He knew what he saw, deep down, and he was sure that it wasn’t some strange dream.
 
They sat in silence. Ryan didn’t know if he wanted to stay or go. The conversation felt unfinished, but maybe he wanted to leave it unfinished. Maybe Father Bishop couldn’t actually help him at all, not the way Ryan needed it.
 
“Ryan, you know you can talk to me about anything. I am here for you. Even if you are afraid, I am here for you.”
 
Ryan nods. They’ve had this conversation once, years ago. It was an important one, one that had ended with Ryan crying his eyes out, feeling so much all at once. Father Bishop had put an arm around him then, telling him that he was okay. Ryan had never cried in front of him since, had kept comfortably distanced, as you did with a teacher. But the time he had cracked, Father Bishop had been there for him. He was there for him now, too. It ached in Ryan’s chest to think that this time was different, he knew this time was different and that this time he couldn’t trust in him, not yet, not when he didn’t know exactly what was going on. But Ryan nodded. He sunk down in his chair, suddenly tired, and nodded.
 
-
 
Ryan sat at their usual table for dinner and picked at his food. He was hungry, he was pretty sure, but he also wasn’t and that in itself was concerning. Spencer was giving off his “aura of worry” and Ryan thought that maybe he should say something to try and diminish it. Jon was pretty wrapped up in the conversation he was having with Adam and William. William had asked him about his face when he had gotten to dinner, uncharacteristically serious. Ryan had had to talk him down from a plan to grill the rest of the juniors and seniors because he thought Ryan was covering for someone. It was just some silly accident, he had fallen down. Ryan didn’t know if Wlliam believed him. Among the group, Ryan barely noticed that Brendon wasn’t there. That is, until Brendon came running over to their table, hopping down on the seat next to Ryan and jostling him.
 
“Ryan, someone wrecked our room.”
 
Beyond the bags under his eyes, Brendon was very obviously freaked the fuck out. All Ryan could manage was a “what.”
 
Before Brendon could respond, before even Ryan was aware of himself processing the information, he was up and quickly walking out of the dining hall. It took less than a minute for him to get to the dorm building, Brendon keeping pace behind him. He didn’t even have time to think about how he had just left the others at the table, or how he must have looked strange suddenly storming out of the dining hall and how happy he was that most of the teachers and faculty went to their own homes for dinner on Friday night.
 
Ryan ran up the stairs of the dorm two at a time before tearing down the hall to their room. Opening the door, it looked like a bomb had gone off. Their room was absolutely trashed, sheets and comforters torn from the beds, books, notebooks, paper, ripped and thrown about the room. Clothes torn from their hangers and spilling out of their closet. Desk lamps had been thrown on the floor, bulbs cracked or even shattered. The lamp they shared between their beds was on, shining light upon the carnage. Ryan figured Brendon must have picked it up and turned it on, seeing as the glass shade had been cracked, shards missing.
 
“Holy fuck.”
 
That was Jon behind him, and Ryan could only guess that the others were with them.
 
“Who the hell did you piss off, Ross?”
 
William was beside him now, and though it sounded as if he were trying to lighten the mood, his voice was strained and shocked. Ryan could only shrug. Between the bruise on his face and the state of his room, Ryan wouldn’t be surprised if they all thought he was lying and that there really was a student who was out to get him. Looking down on the ground, he could see his own books, Burroughs, Kerouac, Bukowski, Whitman, Ginsberg, they were shredded, their covers barely surviving. Ryan was absolutely fucking pissed off.
 
“Fuck!”
 
He kicked the door, not caring if it would leave a dent in the wall. He walked into the room and kicked his desk and cursed again.
 
-
 
They spent the rest of dinner cleaning the room, all of them. Jon had some trash bags in his room and they stuffed them full, Ryan’s shredded books, glass shards from the lamps and light bulbs. All of their notebooks were shredded, an essay due in two days for Brendon was completely gone. The only solace Ryan got was that his guitar, in its case, was untouched. Unfortunately, his radio was smashed to pieces and its remains were stuffed into a trash bag. Textbooks had pages torn out and Ryan and Brendon painstakingly tried to find the pieces. They stuffed them into their respective books, resolved to use the weekend to try and piece them back together. A library book Brendon had taken out for a class was ruined. William told him that he would pay Brendon’s fee.
 
When the end of dinner bell rang, they had cleaned up almost everything, trash wise, and set the bags in the corner of the room. Ryan said he and Brendon would take them out to the dumpsters behind the dining hall early the next morning, so as not to be seen by anyone else. Then they all went to Jon’s room; neither Ryan nor Brendon could stand to be in their own room.
 
Jon smoked them out, even rolling Ryan’s own joint. Brendon said he didn’t feel like smoking, he was too pissed off.
 
“You’ve got to tell somebody.”
 
Spencer had been saying that all evening and it was beginning to get on Ryan’s nerves.
 
“Fucking who, Spencer?”
 
“Anybody! Cut the crap, Ryan, whoever gave you that fucking bruise trashed your room, who you don’t have to lie.”
 
“I’m no fucking lying. I fucking fell out of my bed, nobody did shit to me.”
 
The shit of it was, was that Ryan hadn’t even told them about any of the shit that had happened, because he would sound fucking crazy if he did. He sounded crazy now, like some battered woman,

‘oh, I just fell, oh, I ran into the door’

. He was sure no kid in their school had done this and was very sure that whatever he saw the night before had something to do with it. He didn’t imagine it, it wasn’t some sleep paralysis thing. He was wide awake and moving. He was aware and he hadn’t imagined the fucking monster above their beds. Now they were arguing and Ryan just leaned further onto the windowsill, blowing smoke out. He couldn’t even feel good getting high, which was so fucking unfair.
 
Ryan glanced at Brendon and saw leaning against the wall on the bed, head drooping. He looked tired. Ryan felt tired. William whistled off-tune, leaning against the wall.
 
“Well, this seems like a shitty time to bring it up, but I was

going

to ask you guys what your costumes would be for Halloween this year.”
 
Ryan scrunched his eyes and realized, oh shit, Halloween was like a week away. They had talked about Halloween a little bit at the beginning of the month. The Friday night before Halloween, they were going to be allowed into town, in groups, to see the town’s Halloween parade and to participate in the festival they threw, which would be filled with vendors, mazes, and haunted houses. On Saturday night, the school was going to host a double feature of Ghostbusters and Gremlins on the back lawn. Then on Halloween, the school allowed the students to dress up and they would go trick-or-treating around campus. The faculty that lived in on-campus housing would hand out candy. It was always a good time, but Ryan hadn’t even thought about it in the last few weeks, given what’s been going on. The mention of Halloween costumes was jarring, what a normal thing to be inserted into his suddenly abnormal life.
 
“Bill, what the fuck?” Jon had his arms crossed, though Ryan thought he looked kind of silly, sitting cross-legged on his desk with a doobie in his hand.
 
“What?” William threw up his hands, stepping away from the wall. “You guys have been so serious lately, it makes it hard to want to be around you. I just thought it could be fun to plan a group costume or something, I don’t know. It’s our last year, Walker, we could do something scandalous to really celebrate. I was thinking of Rocky Horror.”
 
Jon barked out a laugh, any serious hard lines melting from his face.
 
“Don’t be such a faggot, Bill.” William rolled his eyes. “I’m not trying to get a demerit or, shit, grounds suspension. Besides, we kind of discussed this already. We’re gonna do The Outsiders, jeans and leather baby.”
 
Ryan had a vague recollection of the discussion of their group costume idea. He remembered being not too keen on it, if only for the fact that there were seven Outsiders, but only six of them.
 
“Well, who’s gonna be who?” William had crossed his arms and was leaning against the doorframe again.
 
“Does it matter? Just look like a greaser, you know? I mean, I don’t have any fucking hair, so it’s not like I could be any of them anyways.”
 
“Your hair’s grown out a bit,” Spencer piped in, shrugging his shoulders. Ryan guessed he was done yelling at him.
 
“Not enough to slick it back. But Bill, if you really want to, then we can assign characters. I’ll be Dally, because unlike you children, I actually come from a tough city.”
 
William snickered.
 
“Oh please, you live in Lakeview and you have a curfew. You’re probably in more danger on the plane ride to school.”
 
Jon gave him the finger.
 
“Shut up. Anyways, Billiam, which character would you like to be?”
 
“Sodapop, obviously. He’s the best looking brother, and I’m the best looking one here.”
 
That got a chuckle out of Spencer, and even Brendon perked up from his half-sleep state.
 
“And I wanna be Steve,” Adam said.
 
“Cool, cool. Okay, Spencer will obviously be Ponyboy, cause he’s the baby.”
 
“Fuck you, Walker.” There was no heat behind it, Spencer grinned, not really giving a fuck who he was.
 
“Yeah whatever. Okay, Brendon, how do you feel about being Darry? You might actually be handsome under those glasses. Plus, Ryan’s hair is too fucking long.”
 
Brendon nodded, grinning.
 
“Yeah, that would be cool.”
 
“So am I Johnny or Two-Bit?” Ryan was pretty sure who Jon would pick for him.
 
“Johnny, obviously. You’re not funny enough to be Two-Bit.”
 
Ryan rolled his eyes, but accepted the joint Jon passed to him. He was feeling more at ease now, relaxing into the comfortable atmosphere of the room. He was nervous about going back to his own, but he wouldn’t have to until 11:30.
 
“Then who’s going to be Two-Bit,” Spencer questioned, realizing they’d left a character out.
 
“Fucking nobody,” Jon replied. “There’s only six of us, who the fuck else would we invite into the group?”
 
Spencer shrugged.
 
“I don’t know, maybe there’s someone who doesn’t have a plan yet.”
 
“No one I care about.”
 
Ryan chuckled, inhaling deeply the last of his joint. They shot the shit for the rest of their evening. It was the first time in a good while that they were all hanging out together in Jon’s room again. They played catch up and Jon brought out his deck of cards for a couple rounds of Blackjack and Bullshit. 
 
He didn’t want to leave at the end and go back to his own room. Even if Brendon was going with him, he was the only one who knew what was going on, what was in their room. Or at least he had an idea about the

something

that was in their room. He hadn’t given it a name yet, but he knew it was bad, probably dangerous, and he was just walking back in. But he didn’t really have a choice.
 
They signed in with the houseparent on their way, only ten minutes until 11:30. It took them all of five minutes to brush their teeth and change into their night clothes. Brendon looked drained; even with him perking up slightly in Jon’s room, Ryan had noticed all evening how dead eyed he looked. Ryan laid back in his bed, closing his eyes, ready for the day to be over and done with.
 
“Hey, uh, Ryan?”
 
Ryan sighed and cracked his eyes back open.
 
“Yeah Brendon?”
 
Brendon was sitting on the edge of his bed, fidgeting with the arm of his glasses. Ryan thought he looked nice without them, he looked older.
 
“You could tell me if anyone was messing with you. I, like, I need you to know that. I don’t care if people break my stuff, but I do give a shit if someone is fucking with you.”
 
Ryan sat up, frowning slightly. He knew he and Brendon were friends, there was no question in that. But they’d only known each other a couple of months. Ryan knew he would do anything for his friends, Brendon included. He was just a little surprised to hear Brendon express the same sentiment.
 
“I…thanks, Brendon. I really promise, seriously, nobody punched me. Nobody hurt me, I fell out of bed.”
 
Brendon stared at him for a moment and Ryan wanted to shrink or turn away. Brendon’s eyes were usually so nervous, at least never as serious as they looked at that moment. But he nodded and smiled at Ryan. He raised a fist across the room and Ryan met it with his own, giving him a fist bump. The tension was diffused and Brendon climbed into his own bed. Ryan let him turn the light off, which was fine. He didn’t want to look at the bags of their broken things in the corner, or their cracked lamp. He didn’t want to look at the room and remember the carnage that took place.
 
Brendon’s soft snores soon slipped out. Ryan had the blankets up to his neck, tucked in tight. As his eyes became accustomed to the dark, he could see varying shades of black and gray. He let his eyes, very slowly, creep to the corner above Brendon’s bed. There was nothing there. Ryan didn’t really think there would be, but he just needed to check. He didn’t want to sleep, just in case that thing came back. The ease he was able to feel earlier was gone. Fear pumped from his heart, through his veins, and into the rest of his body. He had to stop himself from pulling the covers over his face. He was determined to see that thing when it came in again; he refused to be surprised by it a second time. He was awake for a good two or three hours, staring up in the dark, checking that corner every so often. He didn’t have the luxury of being bored, anxiety resting in his stomach like a stone, mind buzzing with the possibilities of what that thing could do to him.
 
Yet, without him realizing, his eyes had grown heavier as time passed. Even with the adrenaline buzzing through him, the fear that encapsulated him now that he was in that dark room, a weight settled on him, settled him into his bed. His muscles were heavy, almost achy and his breathing had grown deeper and longer. He was, unbeknownst to him, falling into a very deep sleep.
 
It was 2:38 a.m. when Ryan jerked awake, his unconscious self becoming aware, troubled, that he had let himself slip into unconsciousness. He stayed stone still, becoming aware, all too quickly, of his surroundings. It almost made him dizzy how quick he woke up, pitch black turning into the varying shadows, thoughts collecting, slowly recognizing the feel of his sheet and comforter still tucked around him, tightly. And then he heard them, the low, pathetic whimpers of his roommate and his heart dropped. Ryan felt sick to his stomach because he knew he’d failed at staying vigil and now Brendon was paying the consequences. Whatever it was, it was doing something awful to Brendon, Ryan didn’t know what, but it had to be terrible. He wasn’t sure if Brendon lied to him about how he slept, or if he really didn’t remember the thing that preyed on him from above his bed, but Ryan knew and now Ryan had to stop it.
 
Ryan closed his eyes almost totally, just leaving a sliver open. He let his head turn, fall, as naturally as possible to his left, as if he were just shifting in his sleep. He didn’t know if the thing could tell if he was awake or not, but he might as well try his best to trick it. He could see Brendon, as he was the first night, lying flat on his back, shaking, whimpering, moaning pathetically and scared. He tried to look up at the corner, but the angle his head had fallen to didn’t let him look even partway up the wall. He would have to shift his head, angle it upwards, and God knew if that would draw the thing’s attention, if it hadn’t already noticed Ryan and his lame attempt at pretending to be asleep.
 
Ryan was careful to keep slow, steady breaths, as if he were sleeping. He waited for a moment that felt correct, first small shifts, little twitches, little turns, like his mind was rousing, but not really, body unconsciously adjusting itself to a more comfortable position. Then the big shift, as if he were stretching in his sleep, changing positions altogether, turning over onto his side, turning his face higher on his pillow, turning so that if he were to open his eyes, he would just be able to see the top corner of the wall just across from him. He closed his eyes fully while doing this, fucking hoping that that thing would just accept that he was asleep. He waited, counting in his head to sixty. He counted four times for four minutes and cracked an eye. He was purposefully looking down, his pupils nearly covered by his lower lid. He slowly trailed them up the wall, straining hard to see through dark shadows. He stopped when caught a glimpse of movement, shadows moving over shadows. It was there, he knew it was there. He opened his eyes a little more, letting them focus, letting in all the light he could.
 
Oh God, he could

see

the thing, really see it, not the whole body, but parts of it. It sat in the corner, like a spider. Its feet disappeared into the wall, but he could see the outline of long, slender legs, crouching in the corner. He could almost make out a torso. But what struck him most was the clawed hand that hung down, almost as frightening as its red eyes had been. It hung idly in the air and Ryan could feel ice in his veins. His head was screaming

danger, get out, fucking run you idiot.

He couldn’t though, Brendon was here.
 
Ryan let his eyes edge up just a hair more and he saw them, those red eyes, unblinking, staring down at Brendon. Ryan found it hard to tear his own eyes away from them, feeling pulled in by the glowing orbs. He didn’t know if it was fear, enchantment, or something else, but when he saw those eyes move ever so slightly, starting to slide from Brendon, up, until it was obvious they were coming to look at Ryan, he was able to tear his own eyes away from the creature and back to Brendon across from him. That thing

knew

he was awake, Ryan wasn’t fooling anybody. It knew and now it was looking at Ryan and Ryan wasn’t doing a fucking thing about it. Ryan was scared out of his mind, felt ready to faint even if he hadn’t seen that fucking thing’s eyes dead on. He felt himself shaking, shivering under his covers and had to stop himself from pulling them over his head and ignoring everything. He saw Brendon, shaking and whining, saw that clawed hand, creep down ever so slowly, that creature planning who knows what and

oh fuck it.

“Brendon.”
 
What Ryan was hoping would come out as a shout came out more of a strained whisper, the sound of which barely reached Ryan’s own ears.
 
“Brendon!”
 
Brendon didn’t even stir. Ryan felt his heart pound, cause he could feel that thing looking at him and he didn’t know what it would do, but he couldn’t stop.
 
“Brendon! Brendon please, wake up, Brendon!”
 
It was as if something was blocking him, his voice coming out in strained whispers. He felt like his throat was closing and that was making him feel panicked. He didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or run away, but neither of those things would help. He kept whispering Brendon’s name, hoping he would hear Ryan somewhere from that deep sleep.
 
Ryan wasn’t sure what made him glance up, a movement, a breeze that shouldn’t be there, but he saw the beast, its hand, slinking towards him, just a breath away, red eyes trained directly on to him. Ryan gasped, though he wanted to fucking scream. He moved, rolled over, off the bed, though this time he was able to catch himself on his hands and knees, no more bruises on his face. He scrambled up, legs tangled in his sheets, wobbly with fear, trying to buckle beneath him. But he grabbed Brendon’s blanket, grabbed Brendon, could feel his arm beneath the sheets and held on, yanking himself up. He was out of time, that thing was there, at his back.
 
“Brendon!”
 
His voice finally came, a short shout. He shook Brendon, saying his name over and over, loudly, he needed to wake him up.
 
“Brendon!”
 
Ryan did what he had to do and slapped Brendon, hard, and he could just picture the red mark that was going to be there in the light. But it worked! Brendon’s eyes shot open, shocked, confused, then angry, brows knitting together, the corners of his mouth turning down. Ryan noticed the sweat on his brow and his cheeks, the sweat that probably made that slap sting all the more.
 
“Ryan what the fuck!”
 
Ryan didn’t have the chance to reply, as Brendon’s eyes caught the movement above them. His eyes looked up and he saw the horror, the

thing

, hovering above their bed, still in its corner.
 
Brendon screamed. He screamed loud and hard, a mix of incoherent words and no words at all. Ryan dropped to the floor, legs giving out. He covered the back of his head and neck, he didn’t know if that would do anything at all, but it didn’t matter, because it was the only thing he knew to do to protect himself. He felt like he was getting ready to be eaten alive, tears pricking the corners of his eyes, heart beating so fast. He couldn’t flee and he didn’t have a chance in hell to fight it. He froze, there on the floor, useless to the end.
 
The door burst open, Dr. Barker on the other side, some students behind him. His right fist was clenched at his side and Ryan had never been happier to see anyone in his life.
 
“What in the hell is going on?”
 
His voice was panicked and Ryan could only stare at him, crouched on the floor. Brendon didn’t say a word either, breathing heavily from above him, his screaming having ceased when the door opened. Dr. Barker snapped his finger at them.
 
“Turn on the damn light and answer me!”
 
Brendon was the one to reach over and turn the lamp on, Ryan still crumpled on the floor, half under Brendon’s bed, looking ridiculous and guilty. Dr. Barker eyed him, constructing his own story in his head and Ryan supposed it was a story that would get him a full audience of the Rector, the Dean of Students, Dr. Barker himself, and maybe even his father and fuck that, he didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t do anything wrong, but what did Brendon actually see? Maybe he saw the shadow man, but he absolutely felt Ryan slap the shit out of him. Ryan didn’t know why he would think this, but if Brendon was feeling particularly vindictive against him, if this whole time he had just been pretending at being Ryan’s friend, he could absolutely ruin Ryan’s life, fuck it up completely, have him kicked out and Ryan would really be fucked then.
 
Ryan looked up at Brendon, just visible above the bed, seeming like a monolith and Brendon looked down, panicked, scared, and you could see a red mark on his cheek from where Ryan slapped him. Brendon looked down and met Ryan’s eyes and took in his panic and fear and then looked up at Dr. Barker.
 
“F-f-fucking big rat. Like a huge rat!”
 
Brendon held up his hands showing just how big this nonexistent rat had been, making it look like the size of a small dog. Dr. Barker took just half a step back, looking around the room. Ryan looked too, as if he were still looking for the fucking big rat. Dr. Barker swallowed whatever fear he had and stepped inside, eying the two closed closet doors, looking at Ryan who was looking under the bed.
 
Ryan eyed the trash backs, tucked into the corner of their room and tried thinking of explaining that, because even though the trash bags had nothing to do with the fucking big rat that was supposedly holed up in their room, Dr. Barker would see them and become suspicious and question them and how does Ryan explain trash bags full of paper and glass and pulverized radios.
 
“I-it ran out!”
 
Brendon practically screamed from atop his bed, making Ryan jump, making Dr. Barker flinch.
 
“Christ Urie, keep your voice down, students are still sleeping.”
 
Dr. Barker seemingly remembered the students that were gathered just outside the room, now looking around for this supposed rat. Dr. Barker turned and shooed them away, promising any boy caught wandering around or up before 6:00 a.m. would get a month’s worth of grounds suspension. The boys scattered quickly and then it was just the three of them. Dr. Barker took another cursory glance around the room and Ryan prayed that the trash bags, as black as the corners of their room were, would go unnoticed.
 
“You’re sure that the…rat is no longer in here?”
 
Ryan looked around the floor and Brendon played at looking over the side of his bed, towards his and Ryan’s desks.
 
“Yeah, it’s…it’s not here anymore. I saw it run out when you opened the door.”
 
Brendon was believable, not too earnest. Ryan sat dumbly on the floor, not saying a word. Dr. Barker looked at both of them, not totally convinced. But it was almost three in the morning and he really didn’t want to deal with more than he had to.
 
“I’m choosing to believe you two. I’m going to have maintenance come up here tomorrow and you are going to tell them exactly what you told me. Lord knows how a rat would get into this building.” He mumbled to himself, something under his breath. Then he gave both Ryan and Brendon a stern look. “I don’t want to hear any more noise for the rest of the night. Understand?  And turn off that light.”
 
Dr. Barker shut their door, firmly, but not slamming it. Ryan stared after him, wishing a little that he had stayed to question them for longer. It was totally dark outside. the middle of the night, and he had no wish to turn their light off.
 
Ryan stood, legs still unsure, feeling weak. He was no longer shaking, but his heartbeat picked up now that they were alone again. He leaned against his bed, not climbing in yet. He looked up at Brendon, who was staring at him, eyes now showing how frightened he actually was.
 
“Ryan, what the hell was that?”
 
Ryan shrugged. He looked at the corner and there was nothing there, not even a hint of the thing that had been crouching there not five minutes ago.
 
“This is the second time I’ve seen it.”
 
Ryan’s voice was quiet and guilty. Brendon’s shoulders slumped and he looked at a loss. He shook his head.
 
“What do you

mean

twice? This isn’t the first time that fucking…

thing

has been in here? What the fuck Ryan?”
 
“I thought it was a dream at first.” Ryan threw up his hands, but didn’t look Brendon in the eye, because he knew he was still wrong. “I…I didn’t want to say anything because what if it was nothing? A fucking nightmare?”
 
Footsteps in the hall startled both boys. They looked at the door and then Ryan looked at Brendon as Brendon looked at the lamp.
 
“We have to turn it off,” Ryan said, but made no move to do so. Brendon looked at him and gulped, but he reached over and did so, plunging the room back into darkness. Ryan was quick to jump into his bed, not even letting his legs hang off. He brought his knees up and put his arms around them.
 
“Ryan, what the fuck do we do?”
 
Ryan couldn’t see him, but he heard Brendon, breathless and frightened, just like Ryan was. His chest ached with how hard his heart had been hammering and his skin felt cold. The room felt cold.
 
“Nothing, right now. We can’t. I don’t know, Brendon. We…I don’t know. I don’t know.”
 
Ryan bites his tongue, else he would keep saying it,

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know

, a nervous mantra, a tick in his head, to repeat over and over until he actually found a solution. 
 
They stayed silent together, sitting stone still. But Ryan was feeling tired. The adrenaline was wearing off and there he was again, bone heavy. But he couldn’t, not with the lights off, not with whatever having a chance to come back and get them. He heard Brendon yawn and then he yawned.
 
“Fuck.”
 
Brendon was probably tired, and Ryan was fucking exhausted, but he bet that thing didn’t fucking sleep. Ryan didn’t like this, the distance between them. He was also tired enough, scared enough, to not care about the social connotations of what he was about to request.
 
“Hey, Brendon, do you want to, like, not trying to be weird, but do you want to sleep in my bed for the rest of the night? With me?”
 
“Oh absolutely, yeah.”
 
Brendon was quick to hop off of his bed and into Ryan’s. Ryan scooted towards the wall as Brendon situated himself. They both pulled the covers over themselves, until just their eyes were peeking out. It wasn’t strange, but it was…different. Embarrassment be damned, sharing a bed made fucking sense given the situation. Ryan could make out the outline of Brendon’s face better, even see his eyes, the whites surrounding the dark brown. Brendon’s eyes shifted to Ryan’s who was staring at him. Brendon giggled to himself.
 
“No homo, right?”
 
Ryan snorts.
 
“Yeah man, no homo.”
 
They relaxed more, and Ryan grew sleepier, combined body heat comforting him. He guessed it was the same for Brendon as it didn’t take long for the other boy's eyes to slip shut, soft snores soon slipping out.
 
Ryan shifted a little, to his side, facing Brendon. He almost shifted the other way, turned his back, but then how would he know if Brendon was still there? He felt like he needed to keep his eyes open, keep a lookout through the night. He checked his wristwatch, reading 3:25. It would ring at 6:00 a.m. and they would take the black trash bags out and dispose of them. He had been determined to stay awake, make sure nothing else would try to touch them. He didn’t succeed, though. He slipped, pretty seamlessly, into sleep, curling towards Brendon, a surprising source of heat to Ryan’s low circulation. Brendon was better than blankets. Nothing else disturbed them until the alarm at 6:00 a.m.