"Can't you just drop me off at Clayton's?" I asked my mom, as she readied herself to leave for work.

"Not today."

"But why not?"

"Because they're going through some stuff right now. And they don't need you around while they do it."

"Clarissa won't mind," I declined, which caused my mom to cast me a disapproving glance. "Mrs. Johnson won't mind," I corrected. "Come on, I don't just want to hang out by myself around here until baseball."

"You have plenty to keep you busy. I just bought you that new video game, right? The one rated M that you promised me wouldn't give you nightmares?"

"I don't get nightmares over video games mom."

"Well play it and find out!" Kayla's voice called from the back. "Some of us are still trying to sleep."

"Bryce, I have to go," mom said, with an apologetic smile. "Give the Johnson's some space, okay? They need it."

I let out a frustrated sigh, watching as she left.

I slumped over onto the couch, Dawson coming over and shoving his palm into my hand.

"Not now," I muttered, shoving him away.

He let out a whine, shoving his wet nose into my palm again.

I sighed, reaching over and scratching him behind the ears.

I didn't want to spend another day by myself. I hadn't seen Clayton in over a week, back when everything fell apart.

I'd noticed Clayton had been drinking alcohol for a while. And not just a little bit of it either, but so much that it was making him sick. And his parents hadn't noticed.

I tried talking to Clayton about it, but he didn't listen. And I was scared, scared that it was only going to get worse.

So I told Taylor. Clayton still doesn't know that it was me, and the guilt was eating me alive. I expected Taylor to flip out when I told him, but instead he just told me that he'd take care of it. And then thanked me for telling him.

And I hadn't seen Clayton since. He hadn't come to baseball practice and my mom wouldn't take me over there.

Clayton probably didn't want to see me. Taylor promised he wouldn't tell him it was me, but maybe he did anyways.

"What are you doing?" Kayla asked me, coming out into the living room.

"Laying here."

"Mom's right you know," Kayla said, leaning against the door jam. "Clayton needs space."

"No," I argued, sitting upright. "He needs friends. And since I'm his only one, that means he needs me."

"Are you just going to lay around here and mope all day?"

"Why do you care?"

She grabbed her keys off of the kitchen counter. "Because I refuse to watch you do that. Again. Let's go kid, we're going to the Johnson's place."

I've never jumped up off the couch so fast, following Kayla out to her car.

"Why?" I asked, glancing over at Kayla. "You don't even like Clayton."

"But I do like you," she countered. "And if you think that this is what's best, then I'll back you."

I couldn't help but smile as she reached over and mussed up my hair.

"Rude," I muttered, flipping down the visor to try and fix it again.

I used to show up every morning at the Johnson's place and let myself inside. But now as we pulled up, it felt different.

"Come on, I'll walk you up," Kayla offered, shutting off the car.

I followed Kayla up to the doorstep, my hands shoved into my pockets.

Clarissa answered the door, a confused expression on her face.

"I just got off the phone with your mom," she said, with a long laugh. "I was getting ready to come and pick you up."

Take that mom.

"Clayton isn't here, but he'll be home in about 15 minutes. I'm making cinnamon rolls though, come in and have some."

"I have to go," Kayla declined. "But take him."

I rolled my eyes, and Clarissa laughed again. "Well drop by sometime soon sweetheart. You know you're always welcome." She reached around me, planting a soft kiss on Kayla's cheek.

"You got it Clarissa."

I followed Clarissa inside, taking a seat at one of the barstools in the kitchen.

She slid me an Arnold Palmer, my favorite drink.

"So how have you been?" Clarissa asked me. "I feel like it's been so long since I've seen you."

"I've been okay."

I glanced around the living room off to the side, which was scattered with scrapbooking supplies, one of Clarissa's favorite pastimes.

"You're always welcome to help me," Clarissa said, shooting me a smile.

"I think I'll pass."

Clarissa opened the oven, checking on her cinnamon rolls before closing it back up again. She turned to face me, leaning against the counter.

"Well I was telling your mom this morning that Taylor has this old friend, Nancy Wilcott. And she runs this summer camp over on the other side of town? And she's looking for some more volunteers. So I thought that after baseball practice you and Clayton could go and down and give her a hand today, see if it's something you'd be interested in."

"Volunteer at a summer camp?" I asked, wrinkling up my nose in disgust. "The whole summer?"

"Oh don't give me that face," Clarissa chastised. "She could really use your help. And I didn't say that you had to do it, just try it out."

"I guess."

"Thank you for being a good sport. You're going to need the hours for graduation anyways, so this ought to give you a head start." She checked her wrist watch. "Did you bring your baseball stuff with you?"

I shook my head.

"Of course," she said, with a laugh. "We'll have to swing by on our way then."

"Is Clayton coming to practice today?"

A small smile spread across her face. "I do think it's best." She leaned across the counter. "Bryce, I know that it was difficult for you to tell us what you did."

I slowly nodded, a small lump growing in my throat.

"But I just want to thank you," she continued. "Just know that you saved his life."

"Okay," I muttered, quietly.

It didn't help me to feel any less guilty, but Clarissa was like a mom to me. And her appreciation meant more than the world to me.

"And Clayton doesn't know that it was you, and we're happy to keep it that way."

I quickly nodded in agreement.

And then she stepped back, heading over to open up the oven again. "Looks like they're done. You'll get first pick today, I'm guessing you want the middle one?"

"That's the best one," I declared.

And then I heard the front door opening.

"Clarissa, you here?" Taylor's voice called out.

"In the kitchen!" Clarissa called back.

"Love you, see you this evening!" And then the door closed again.

And then Clayton came into the kitchen.

"Hello my love," Clarissa said, with a bright smile.

His gaze flickered over to me as his mom kissed his forehead.

His lips were pulled into a frown, his hands shoved into his pockets. He had deep bags under his eyes, his hair still messy from when he woke up it looked like.

"When did you get here?" Clayton asked me.

"A few minutes ago."

"Well I want the middle cinnamon roll."

"I already called it."

He took a seat at the barstool next to me, scowling. "That's not fair, this is my house."

"Well too bad, house rules don't apply when it's the middle cinnamon roll."

"It's just a cinnamon roll," Clarissa said, with an exasperated sigh. "It's the same as all the others."

"No it's not," Clayton and I declined in unison.

"Well whether that's true or not, Bryce called it today." She slid me a plate, the middle cinnamon roll sitting on it, perfectly frosted. "Sorry honey."

"Great, I've already had a shitty day and I don't get the middle cinnamon roll."

"Ooh," I whispered, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Clayton Johnson, you better put a dollar into that swear jar right now!"

"I don't have one."

"You better find one in the next five minutes."

He froze, slowly nodding.

"Not that... Not that it matters," Clarissa fumbled.

I reached into my back pocket, handing Clayton a dollar before this situation could get any worse. "Here."

Clayton stared at me for a few moments, uncertainty flashing across his face.

"My offer only stands for the next 60 seconds," I added. "And if you think your day is shitty now, just wait until your mom tells you about the summer camp she signed us up for."

"Bryce Harrison!" Clarissa snapped. "You boys are too much. I have a swear jar for a reason you know!"

~*~

"I don't understand why we have to do this," Clayton complained. "I don't want to volunteer at a stupid summer camp for kids."

"I agree," I said, resting my elbows on the center console.

"Bryce Harrison, are you buckled?" Clarissa challenged.

"I don't even like kids," Clayton continued. "Why can't this Wilcott-lady find someone else?"

"Anybody else," I added.

"First off, Bryce get buckled."

I leaned back in my seat, doing as Clarissa told me to.

"And secondly, Mrs. Wilcott is always looking for volunteers. But getting good help these days is a hard feat. So you're going to go in there with a smile and give her the best that you can. Do you boys understand?"

"Yes ma'am," we both muttered.

"Good. And if you don't like it Bryce, you don't have to go back."

"What about me?" Clayton challenged.

"It's non-negotiable."

I couldn't help but bust out into laughter as Clayton let out a long string of complaints.

"I don't want to hear anymore about it," Clarissa stated. "That's the end of our conversation on the topic."

Clayton folded his arms across his chest, leaning back in the front seat as he stared out the window in annoyance.

We pulled up the building, Clarissa wishing the both of us luck as we headed inside.

"We could still bail," Clayton offered.

"I could," I corrected, with a smirk.

"Fuck off."

"Clayton Johnson, swear jar!"

He swatted me upside the head, an unamused expression on his face.

The two of us headed inside, with the instruction to locate Mrs. Wilcott.

Best of luck to us I guess.

I could hear a female voice coming from behind two closed gym doors, but it sounded too young to be the elderly Mrs. Wilcott that had been described to us.

"That's not her," Clayton declined. "Must be one of the other volunteers."

"If she has other volunteers, why does she need us?" I questioned. "How many people does it take to run a summer camp?"

"Don't know, I've never been to one."

"Me either."

"Boys?" a voice called out.

Both Clayton and I whipped around to see a door behind us, and an older lady standing in the doorway.

Her graying hair was swept up into a bun, her hands placed on her hips as she waited for us to come over to her.

"That's her," Clayton confirmed. "I recognize her from my dad's shop."

So I followed Clayton over.

"Hello dear," Mrs. Wilcott said, giving Clayton a tight hug.

"Uh, hey."

"And you must be Bryce," Mrs. Wilcott said, surveying me.

"Yes ma'am."

"Thank you so much for coming out to give me a hand!"

"Sure," I agreed when Clayton didn't say anything. "Always happy to help."

"If you boys don't mind, the kids are going to be coming out for snack here in a few minutes. Would you mind collecting the supplies from the pantry and freezer and setting it up in here?" She gestured towards the folding table set up in the multipurpose room. "Just lay out the snacks and drinks there."

I shrugged, nodding. "Yeah, sure."

Sounded simple enough.

"You can pick which snack we have today. We have Cheez-Its yesterday, so probably not those again."

The two of us headed back into the walk-in kitchen, searching for the pantry.

"We are not eating fruit snacks," Clayton declined, sifting through the different options.

"What about animal crackers?" I asked. "Dude, I used to love chomping the heads off of those things."

"Whatever I guess."

"Lighten up," I said, giving him a good shove. "You can have the middle cinnamon roll next time."

"Fuck off Bryce."

I laughed, handing him the box of animal crackers. "Where do you think the drinks are?"

"Probably that walk-in freezer over there."

I lifted the latch, stepping inside. "It's ice cold in here."

"It's a freezer," Clayton deadpanned, holding the door open for me. "What did you expect?"

I ignored him, scanning the options for the kids snack. "Juice boxes?" I questioned. "That or water."

"Juice boxes definitely."

I picked up one of the packages of juice boxes. "How many packages do you think we'll need?"

"Two probably."

I passed out two packages. "Really? I think we might need three. I remember drinking these things as a kid and they were the bomb."

And then the freezer door shut.

I let out a long sigh, setting down the third flat of juice boxes. "Funny."

"That middle cinnamon roll doesn't taste so good now does it?"

"You're a child!"

"I'm a warm child."

I rolled my eyes, my teeth beginning to chatter. "Okay Clayton, you've made your point. Open the door."

No answer.

"Clayton this isn't funny anymore. Well it never was to begin with. But open the damn door."

No answer.

I began pacing the floor inside the freezer, folding my arms across my chest and tucking my palms under my armpits.

How long did he plan on leaving me locked in here?

This wasn't funny in the first place, and now it certainly wasn't funny anymore.

It seemed like hours before the freezer door opened again, an apologetic Clayton standing there.

"You asshole!" I shouted, reaching out and shoving him in the chest.

What the hell is wrong with him?

"I'm sorry," Clayton defended, laughing. "I forgot."

How do you forget that you locked someone in the freezer?

"Here," Clayton said, handing me a towel. He had a sympathetic smile on his face as my teeth continued to chatter. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to leave you in there. Really."

That's the best kind of apology I was going to get out of my idiot of a best friend.

I wrapped the towel around my shoulders, my eyes landing on someone else in the walk-in kitchen.

She was relatively short, but maybe that's just because I'm relatively tall.She looked like someone that spent an adequate amount of time outside, her sun-kissed skin reflecting my assumption. She had long, blonde ringlets that fell around her slender shoulders, her blue eyes staring at me in confusion.

Not that I blamed her. I'd just walked out of a freezer like a complete idiot.

Way to make a first impression.

"Who's this?" I asked, continuing to stare at her.

"I don't know," Clayton declined. "What was your name again?"

Tactless, as usual.

"Are you always this rude?" the girl demanded, a fiery passion behind her words.

I couldn't help but smile. "He is. I'm sorry about him."

She locked eyes with me, a small smile creeping up on her face as well.

I couldn't stop staring into her ocean blue eyes. There was something about them that I couldn't place, and I never wanted to look away.

"This this a moment?" Clayton questioned, after a few moments of silence passed. "Are you two having a moment?"

My gaze ripped away from hers, and I reached over and slapped my best friend upside the head for good measure.

I could never apologize enough for him.

He just laughed, offering me a cheeky smile.

"I'm Bryce," I said to the girl whose name I still didn't know.

"Sophie," she stated, her smile returning.

"So what are we supposed to be doing exactly?" I asked, taking the peach-colored towel off of my shoulders and dropping it down onto the counter.

I wasn't exactly warm, but I'd survive.

"Helping set up," Clayton reminded me, nodding out towards the multipurpose room that we'd originally been in.

"So do you work here?" I asked Sophie, as the three of us headed back out to the room.

She nodded. "I used to go to camp here. And then when I was too old for that, I started volunteering here."

I wish I had close ties with something like that. Had something that meant that much to me.

I have baseball, but it was different somehow. She had a warm passion when she spoke about her experience and time here, a homey feel almost.

"That's adorable," Clayton said, with a sly smile.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as we reached the multipurpose room. "Just ignore him really," I stated, reaching down and opening the first flat of juice boxes.

"I'm trying really."

This time I couldn't help but laugh, much to the annoyance of Clayton. "Clayton's dad is a friend of Mrs. Wilcott, and we both need the hours for graduation."

Sophie shot Clayton a curious glance. "Do people ever call you Clay?"

I glanced over at Clayton as well, unsure as to how well he'd take the question.

He never took it lightly.

"No," he declined, his voice tight. "I'm not a piece of dirt to be stepped on. So I don't want to be referred to as such."

I rolled my eyes, wishing that he'd go a little easy on her. She was just curious.

A few moments of silence passed between us, understandable after Clayton's remark.

"So where do you go to high school?" I asked Sophie.

"I'll be starting at Durham High this August."

Me too. So that puts us at about the same age.

"Bryce too," Clayton spoke up, offering me a sarcastic smile. "Isn't that cute."

I'm going to lock him in the freezer.

"Fuck off," I said, lowering my eyes at him.

I could hear Sophie chuckle, and I couldn't help but smile as well.

I glanced back over at her, watching as she helped us unload the juice boxes.

I made eye contact with Clayton, glancing over at Sophie before glancing back at him again.

He just shrugged indifferently.

"Clayton and I are going out tonight," I said to Sophie.

Clayton raised his eyebrows at me in question. Because we didn't have any plans to go out tonight, and I'm pretty sure his parents were going to veto the idea the second I brought it up. But we used to go out every Friday night, so it was worth a shot.

"Every Friday a bunch of high schoolers go out to this diner on Fifth Avenue?" I continued, ignoring Clayton's curious glance.

"Blacktop Diner?" Sophie questioned.

"Yeah," I said, with a nod. "It turns into a like a mini-party scene out back, with music and dancing and it's pretty fun."

She nodded, a small smile inching it's way across her face.

"We head out there around 8 if you and your friends want to come."

Her smile widened, and she reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Okay, I'll see."

And then Mrs. Wilcott came sweeping into the room. "Nice job with the snacks guys. Sophie, if you could go in and give Kylie a hand with the kids? I'll go ahead and give the boys a tour myself. Apparently I'm not as good at Sharks and Minnows as you."

Sophie nodded, flashing me one last smile before heading back into the gym.

"Right this way boys," Mrs. Wilcott said, beckoning for us to follow her.

"What are you doing?" Clayton asked me, as I fell into step next to him. "My parents are never going to let me go out tonight."