Windshield wipers pushed fluffy snowflakes off to the side. Although the car had been on for nearly ten minutes, Roman could still see his breath hang in the air. He didn’t mind all that much, he was just grateful he didn’t have to scrap the windows. Everything was calm. It was him and the soft purr of the engine.

Roman liked winter. At least, he used to. The comfort the chilly air brought was replaced by memories of late nights trekking through the woods in the name of therapy. Days of sledding and snowball fights were long gone, leaving him with only the thought of just how dangerous winter could be. It was pretty though; he couldn’t deny that. A thick sheet of untouched snow covered everything in sight.

Jerking the door open, Fletcher got in. His rigid body language said very little about what was going on in his head. Wordless, he just looked at Roman as if he was waiting for something. Roman scanned over him quickly trying to see what he’d forgotten. The sleeves of his sweatshirt were splattered in wet white paint.

“You want to talk about it?” Roman asked hopelessly.

“Let’s not.” As Fletcher spoke, he rolled his sleeves to hide the paint.

“What’s with the paint?”

Fletcher didn’t reply, instead favoring to turn himself away from Roman. In the glow of the dome light, small flecks of glass scattered across Fletcher’s sweater shined. He looked wrong. The typical well-kept brown hair was twisted and spun as if he wrung his hands through it a thousand times. His face was even more wrong. Roman couldn’t quite place it, but Fletcher seemed paler and maybe gaunter. Whatever it was, it wasn’t Fletcher.

“I’m not driving until you tell me.” Roman knew how childish he sounded but he didn’t particularly care.

The ultimatum had no effect on Fletcher. His only response was a blank stare and a halfhearted shrug. As stubborn as Roman could be, he also knew when he was fighting a losing battle. Giving in, he swung his arm behind Fletcher’s seat and started backing up. Snow stuck to the bottom of the tires as he pushed through the unplowed parking lot. Fletcher turned the radio on. Just as they drove past the entrance to the parking lot, Roman saw it.

“Uh, Fletcher. What the hell?” Roman snapped the radio off.

Roman stopped the car to stare at the damage Fletcher did to Beck’s car. The hood was coated in the same paint they’d used in the basement, windshield was smashed in and the driver’s side window had taken a beating. The car was a wreck and Fletcher was responsible for it. Roman couldn’t wrap his head around it. How could someone as tame Fletcher do this amount of damage?

“She cheated on me.” The words sounded more factual than emotional. “With Warren.”

“Oh, that’s not good.” Roman floundered.

“Better him than you, I suppose.” He laughed dryly.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Roman muttered.

Slowly they travelled down the road, thick snow falling all around them. Without the radio, all Roman could hear was the soft sound of Fletcher’s chest rising and falling. His rigid posture disappeared as crumpled down. Pulling his knees up to his chest, he softly cried but made no sound.

“Yeah, cause you're such an upstanding guy, Roman.” Fletcher's voice trembled yet still held some bitterness to it.

Roman wanted to say something, anything to defend himself but he knew it wouldn’t help. Fletcher was hurt and he could hardly blame him. He and Beck were so close it was nearly impossible to mention one without the other. The tears tapered off as Fletcher looked in the rear-view mirror. Roman wasn’t sure what he was looking at but anything was better than hearing him cry.

“Oh, fuck off.” Fletcher declared with a hint of venom in his voice.

“Do you want me to drop you here? I can call Ellis if that would work better for you-”

“Not you.” He replied as if someone else was there to bear the insult. “The eight year old in the back.”

Roman wasn’t sure of much in his life now. Magic was real, ghosts were real, and he was apparently a witch but he was certain there was no eight-year-old in the backseat of his car. Just to be sure, he peeked at the mirrors to see an empty seat. Unsure of what else to do, Roman bobbed his head a bit like a bobble head.

“You don’t see him.” Fletcher noted “I think he’s dead. He showed up when we were playing with the Ouija board.”

“So, what are you? Like a medium?” Roman paused. “Didn’t Helga say you aren’t a witch?”

“Maybe she was wrong.”

“What’s he look like?”

“The kid?” Fletcher unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to get a better look. “He’s got a white sweatshirt, blue striped tie. Shorts and knee-high socks. Black hair, brown eyes. Bruises on his neck.”

It occurred to Roman that this boy Fletcher was seeing very well could have been the ghost who they’d first spoken with. Question clouded his mind. Who was he? Why was he there? Why did he follow Fletcher? Roman decided it didn’t matter much now, as long as the boy wasn’t trying to kill them it would be alright. The word choke came to mind again. The boy must have spelt it out five times over but why? Ignoring the thoughts, Roman instead focused on driving. Neither of the boys minded the silence now.

Emotions weren’t something Roman was well versed in. He couldn’t vocalize his own, let alone help Fletcher through his. However, Roman could take him home where surely one of his parents would know what to do but just as he pulled onto Fletcher’s street, he spoke.

“Don’t take me home.” His voice cracked.

***

Face down in Roman’s bed, Fletcher didn’t make a sound. Curled up in his chair, Roman watched him carefully trying to determine if he was still crying. Awkwardly, Roman had been texting Ellis for advice on how to manage the situation but he’d received no answer. Forty-five minutes had passed since Fletcher’s occasional crying episodes started. Roman was certain of that. He timed it hoping that eventually he’d get dehydrated and stop crying. A small buzz rang through the room. Roman first checked his own phone praying it would be Ellis with whatever rules and social faux pas there were involved with cheating but it wasn’t his phone. Quietly getting up, Roman crept over to his night stand to see Fletcher’s phone. Hundreds of messages from Beck flooded his notifications; Some were apologies, some excuses. As softly as he could muster, Roman took Fletcher’s phone out of his reach.

“Hey Fletch...Do you want me to call someone?” He offered.

“No.” The crying had stopped entirely. He just sounded drained.

“Do you want me to-”

“No,”

“Well at least-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Stop talking.” Fletcher sat up as he snapped at Roman. His eyes were so bloodshot and puffy, Roman was half convinced he couldn’t see straight. “Why do you have to be so fucking perfect?”

“I’ll grab my keys; I can take you home.” Roman offered the statement as an easy out mostly because he didn’t want to hear the rest of what Fletcher had to say.

“Clearly, it doesn’t matter what you do cause everybody wants you. Even my girlfriend!” Fletcher shouted. Roman motioned for him to keep his voice down but he continued. “You dress like a clown and people still think you're attractive. You get to be cruel and unkind and people think it's charming. People just throw themselves at you and you get to sit there with a smug look as if you're above it all.”

“Uh, first off, I didn’t cheat on you, so I’d love it if you maybe redirect that anger. Secondly, my own family doesn’t like me.” He meant the second bit as a joke but neither of them laughed. “I can take it if you need to take it out on someone but know that you are very loud and my dad is sleeping.”

“What do you have that I don’t?” Fletcher snapped even louder than before.

“Please, lower your voice.” Roman didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry Beck killed your self-esteem.”

“That’s not the issue. I’m not good enough no matter how hard I try...And then there's you, who just floats through life.” Thankfully, he dropped his voice down.

“This isn’t my thing, Fletcher. I don’t comfort people. I’m not good at it. So, let me be clear when I say this; There is nothing wrong with you. You are kind, compassionate and God knows you’re honest. Everyone likes you-”

“Except my girlfriend.” Fletcher flopped back down.

“Do you want to just go to bed?”

“Yes.”

***

The alarm clock read 7:45 am when Roman uncurled himself from his chair. Through blurry eyes, he noticed a particularly empty bed. Stumbling over, he noticed a small note that read ‘Hey, sorry about last night. Dad’s picking me up. See you at school.’. He was silently thankful that Fletcher had left. Explaining Fletcher’s sudden presence at the house would have been incredibly awkward. As Roman turned to leave the room, he heard a muffled phone ring. Ignoring it as he always did, he went to the bathroom.

Standing at the sink, Roman let the water run while he put toothpaste on his toothbrush. Mornings weren’t something he enjoyed. They always tended to be far more chaotic than anyone needed them to be. With the toothbrush hanging from his mouth, he turned the water as hot as possible on for his shower. As if on cue, there was a loud thump on the door followed by a shout.

“Roman!” Declan continued beating on the door.

“Too late, shoulda been quicker.” Roman shouted back. The two often would argue over who’d get the bathroom first. The entire situation boiled over to a point where Declan started waking up at four am just to win.

Stripping down, Roman noticed violet circles under his eyes were as present as ever. He ignored his exhaustion and stepped into the shower. Hot water ran down his body. Instantly his muscles relaxed, all tension leaving his body. As he scrubbed the shampoo through his black hair, Declan finally stopped banging against the door. Running his fingers through his hair, he noticed that it was getting a hair too long for his liking.

Roman was conflicted. What Beck did to Fletcher was wrong, he knew that but he didn’t know where that left Warren. Roman didn’t exactly have the moral high ground nor was he in a position to judge but it left him with a deep icky feeling as if he had done something wrong. Sure, he had done plenty of immoral things but more often than not it was only him that suffered the consequences. Warren, for cheap enjoyment had probably ruined Fletcher and for reasons Roman hadn’t quite explained he still would be friends with Warren.

“Roe! Open the door.” Declan shouted as he messed with the door handle.

“Go fu-” He paused, realizing Evelyn was probably downstairs. “You can wait.”

“Fine!” He snapped before rattling the door handle again. Roman heard the familiar sound of a door unlocking. “Your phone keeps going off.”

Roman pulled back the shower curtain to see Declan with a wire coat hanger with the end straightened out in one hand while having a phone in the other. Roman was mildly impressed by his ability to unlock the door with a coat hanger but it did nothing to tame his anger. The phone started ringing again

“Then answer it or ignore it!” Roman hissed as shampoo from his hair dripped down his face.

“Your phone, your problem.” Declan shoved the phone into his hand before bolting out of the bathroom.

Before he tossed the phone to the side, he noticed the case was different than his. Instead of his traditional plain yellow phone case, it was a picture of swim lanes. Instantly, he realized it was Fletcher’s phone. The caller id popped up as Ellis. Of course, it was Ellis, Roman thought to himself. Still dripping wet, with the water running, Roman answered.

“Hey.” Roman half yelled.

“So, you answer Fletcher’s phone but not your own. Cool.” Ellis sounded worn out, his voice raspy and lacking the normal pretentiousness. “Sam and I are going to the tunnels today. You and Fletcher feel inclined to join?”

“Yeah, I’ll come. I’m going to make a safe bet and say Fletcher won’t be. I’ll explain later.”

“Are you in the shower- Never mind, I don’t want to know. I’ll be at your dads in 20 minutes.”

Quickly, Roman rinsed his hair out and headed back to his room. As he started to get ready his mind kept wandering back to Fletcher’s phone. He slipped on a Hawaiian shirt over his Holloway academy gym shirt. It was an ugly pairing but most of Roman’s recent fashion choices were designed to annoy Ellis rather than look elegant. While he pulled his pants on, Fletcher's phone went off again. Peaking at the phone, he first noticed the background of Fletcher's phone was Beck. He shouldn’t have been surprised but he would have assumed it would have been changed last night. Ignoring the picture, he noticed Beck sent Fletcher a message thanking him for being understanding.

It struck Roman as odd. With very little impulse control, he began trying to guess Fletcher’s password. First, he typed in ‘swim’ as it seemed reasonable but it was incorrect. He tried a few birthdates and still nothing worked. Trying to put himself in Fletcher’s mind, he tried to think of any four-character passwords. Fletcher, I swear to God, Roman thought as he typed in ‘Beck’. Well, he’s stupid, Roman concluded as the phone unlocked. Rapidly, he started flicking through Fletcher’s conversation with Beck. The tone at the start was angry, hurt and bitter which Roman understood but slowly it shifted to Fletcher almost apologizing to her.

Beck:

Fletch, I want to be honest with you. Cheating was a mistake, and I know how much it hurt you ):

Sam and you guys playing and joking about Davis really freaked me out though and you chose to stay with them, Warren was there to comfort me. One thing led to another and well, you saw and I feel so gross, it was such a primal instinct, you weren't there and I couldn’t control it!

Please Fletcher ):

I wanted you to be there.

Fletcher:

I don’t think that matters now.

I don’t think that we can ever go back to normal.

I just want to know, were you flirting with Roman before?

Roman stomach twisted as he flopped on his bed, not daring to take his eyes off the screen. There was an awful bitter taste in his mouth from his name being used in an argument that he had no part in. No part of Roman felt that he had a place in their relationship and yet his name kept being thrown around. A tiny ping of guilt filled him as he continued to scroll.

Beck:

I was, it’s so disgusting and gross I did it in front of you but it made me feel something. I felt like a girl, like I was wanted.

Please don’t be mad but it’s been a while since I’ve felt that way ):

When he looked at me, I felt pretty, I know deep down he wanted me, but you were right there but I didn’t want to hurt you ): I’ve done a shit job at that though.

Fletcher:

I’m sorry I made you feel that way, that wasn’t my intention. I just don’t know what we can do from here. I want to fix this. I want to be with you. I can’t imagine losing you but I just don’t know how to fix it.

I’m so sorry.

Beck:

I don’t know, I just feel so disgusting, I don't even deserve you Fletch… I'm sorry I didn't know what I wanted but when I found it, my brain couldn't stop my body, I basically threw myself at Roman and Warren. I'm so sorry.

You deserve better ):

Rage could not begin to describe how Roman was feeling. A deep burn made its way through his chest. He didn’t want to be involved in their argument and yet he centered in it. One of the small problems Roman noticed throughout his life was that because he was attractive, his actions came across as flirting regardless of how he intended them to be seen. Desperately, he tried to put the phone down but he couldn’t stop. Beck was right about one thing; Fletcher did deserve better.

Fletcher:

I don’t know what to do. I love you, I love you so much it hurts but I don’t know how to fix this for you.

How can I make you happy?

Beck:

I need someone there for me when you can’t be, which is getting more and more common. You weren’t there when I needed it ):

What if, and hear me out, we tried something like an open relationship?? You obviously don’t need to date other people but maybe it could help me? I could get the attention and stuff I need, and there’d be no strings attached, because I love you Fletcher and only you. I just need someone there for me when you’re busy or something.

I can tell you as many or as little details as you want but I think this could work for us!! :)

He couldn’t stomach any more of the conversation. He put the phone away and tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. Girl having crushes on him wasn’t anything new but Beck’s interest in him was bleak and misplaced. She had a perfectly fine boyfriend, one of the best in Roman’s opinion and yet she still needed more. It didn’t make any sense. Ringing his hands together, he realized how badly he messed up. Looking through Fletcher’s phone was an invasion of privacy and Roman could live with that. However, he could not live with what he knew and he certainly couldn’t confront Fletcher about it.

“Roman.” Evelyn called from downstairs. Her voice treaded on sharp.

“What?” Roman yelled back but after a few minutes of no response he went down to see.

Evelyn was dressed in her red peacoat, black leather gloves and winter boats still wet from the snow. Her little pom pom hat flattened out her blonde curls. Roman wondered where she was coming back from this early in the day. Her jaw was set tightly as she slowly took off her gloves, tossing them aside as if they were offensive to her. Placing her hands on her hips, she looked at Roman with an expression of disbelief mixed with disappointment; Roman’s favorite.

“You want to tell me anything?” She asked firmly but for once Roman didn’t know what she was talking about. “Oh, going the plausible deniability route. Smart.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with my dad. You’re starting to sound like him.” He replied as he walked past her to get his boots.

“Put those down.”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Okay, Evelyn. What do you want to talk about? Or do you just want to play this game all day?” Roman muttered not putting his boots down.

“I got called into the sheriff’s station. Something about a girl’s car being trashed and your car whipping out of the parking lot pretty soon after.” Evelyn started to take her jacket off before doing an angry version of jazz hands. “Don’t worry, I already handled it. Only cost ten grand.”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me.” Evelyn wasn’t normally harsh or accusatory. Roman always felt that compared to his parents, she was always on his side but now she seemed to be against him. “You’re lucky you weren’t arrested.”

“You’d be surprised how many times I’ve heard that.” He smiled cheaply. “Please don’t tell dad?”

“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that.” Evelyn smiled with her perfectly red lips. “You’re going to.”

“Like hell I am.” Roman dropped his boots. “He’ll send me back to camp...Or kill me, I haven’t ruled that out yet.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam and Ellis pulling up in the truck. He awkwardly fidgeted as Sam laid on the horn. Roman pointed at the door and tried to form a sentence but all that came out was half formed words. Evelyn scowl remained unchanged and her glare was unyielding. Slowly, Roman bent his knees and tried grabbing his boots.

“Nuh uh.” She snapped, swatting his hands. “Bedroom, now. Stay there until your father and I can discuss your punishment.”

“Careful there, Evelyn. You’re not my mom. You’re not my parent. I don’t think mom would take kindly to you trying to step into her role.” Roman dug his heels in the floor.

“Yeah. I don’t care what she thinks. Bedroom. Now.”

With his tail tucked between his legs, Roman retreated upstairs. He could hear Evelyn hollering over to Sam that he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Once he was back in his bedroom, Roman bolted to the window and flung open the curtains. Sam as per usual, didn’t listen and was still parked out front. From the passenger side, Ellis rolled down his window and motioned for him to come out. In what was sure to be a regretful moment, Roman grabbed his gym shoes from the closet and slid them on. He cracked the window open and popped the screen off like the hundreds of times he’d done it before. With the grace of a toddler learning to walk, he crawled out the window, before carefully dropping himself down onto a well-placed bush. Scampering across the lawn, he made a b-line for the truck. Whipping the truck door open, he dove in.

“Drive. Drive now.” Roman said, checking over his shoulder for Evelyn.

“It’s always something with you, Davenport.” Sam muttered as he sped off.