"Nico!" I yelled. It was the next morning and I was headed towards breakfast when I saw Nico on his own without the usual entourage of the Silent Boys. He was leaning against the wall with his head tilted to one side and as he turned I could see he was on his phone.

"I already told you, I don't want to go. If the other two aren't why do I have to? He doesn't want me there anyway so why should I? Stop calling me Miguel because I'm not going to change my mind," he hissed down the phone in a furious tone that had clearly been repeated over and over again. With an irritated stab of his finger he hung up on whoever he'd been calling.

"Are you okay?" I asked cautiously as I reached out to touch his forearm delicately. I hated seeing such annoyance on his usual buoyant face.

"Yeah it's nothing," it didn't take a lie detector to tell he was lying through his teeth.

"Who's Miguel?" I remained tentative not wanting to push him too much as he'd clearly been having a private conversation I wasn't meant to be part of.

"My brother," Nico stated keeping his voice bland and expressionless. He tugged his hand through his hair uncomfortably. He wasn't enjoying the focus on his family.

"How many siblings do you have?" I pursued, I wanted to know more about him.

"Miguel's the eldest, then Cristian, then Camilla and I'm the baby of the family," Nico listed formally like he was reciting from a script.

"Wow, I wish I had that many siblings," I sighed longingly. I'd always wanted a big family, I'd watched hundreds of people interacting with their siblings and felt it was something big I was missing out on. I could never join in when people complained about their younger brothers messing up their rooms or older sisters stealing their clothes. I longed for that kind of unconditional relationship with someone near my age yet Nico looked anything but pleased when talking about his family.

"I'll happily give you mine, family isn't all it's cracked up to be," Nico huffed out his nose as we headed towards the Dining Hall our feet echoing on the polished floorboards.

"Why don't you get on?" I knew I was getting very close to a nerve and I had to tread very carefully from now on in case I hit the wrong spot and caused him to completely shut himself off to me.

"We're just very different people," Nico shrugged casually, "just because you're related doesn't mean you'll be anything alike."

"I guess," I nodded noncommittally.

"So did you enjoy the fireworks show last night?" He immediately snatched the opportunity to change the conversation. I was aware of how much he sounded like me in my desire to dodge discussing the life we led beyond these walls.

"They were amazing," I agreed in awe, "I loved them." I met his eyes directly and watched as his smile reached his eyes touching them with a glint of delight.

"I'm glad, I've never done them before," Nico admitted.

"You what?" I yelped.

"I've never done fireworks, it was a bit of an experiment to be honest."

"You'd never done them before and you still did it, do you have any idea how dangerous they are?" I fumed knowing but not caring that I sounded like a scolding mom.

"I'm fine aren't I?" Nico's mouth pulled up in a mischievous half smile as he leant against the door to the Dining Hall to push it open.

"You might not have been," I gave him my infamous glare before turning and storming towards our usual table where the rest of the Silent Boys were sat. I placed a hand in my hip as I surveyed them with my lips pursed in the most disapproving way. I demanded, "I want to know who the bloody hell thought it was okay to let Nico, the mastermind joker set off a load of fireworks which he's never done before. Huh?"

They all glanced at each other guiltily except for Mitch who only looked surprised.

"I knew nothing about it," he held his hands up defensively, "so you can't blame me."

"Just watch me," I sat down in an empty chair and glowered at all of them.

"I don't see what the problem is, he's fine isn't he?" Grey sighed.

"The problem is he could have blown his arm off or even worse his face or something," I threw my hands up in frustration.

"Nico?" Grey called as Nico approached our table with a plate stacked high with toast.

"Yeah?" Nico mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

"Do you still have both arms and both eyes?" Grey enquired seriously.

"Sure feels like it," Nico spat out a bunch of crumbs as he replied. Luckily he swallowed his mouthful before continuing, "is Cara still going on about the fireworks?"

"You bet."

"I don't see how you can all be so ...," my rant was cut off by Nico leaning over the table and pressing a silencing finger to my lips.

I froze instantly as a warm blush rose to my cheeks at the thought of his finger on my lips right here in front of this entire room of people, especially everyone else at the table.

"I'm fine Vegas, so I don't want to hear any more about these fireworks," he whispered to me as if we were the only two people in the room.

Numbly I nodded unable to form a coherent sentence until Nico retracted his finger from my lip and I realised there was still a world going on around us. The voices from the rest of the boys rose back into range and I felt the heat from the rest of the stares of the Silent Boys at our table.

"Fine," I stumbled out, "no more, I promise. I'm going to get breakfast."

With that I leapt up from the table and headed away unable to bear the tension at the table any longer. I needed space to breathe that was far away from all their dazzling good looks and charming smiles.

Was it abnormally hot in here or was that just me?

***

Nico was hiding something and I knew it, he'd been distracted all evening and had just snuck out early from dinner so I guessed it was something to do with the earlier conversation I'd overheard him having on the phone.

"I'm going to check on Nico," I stood up from the table after he'd been missing for nearly half an hour and I was starting to get concerned.

"I'm sure he's fine," Grey dismissed but I could tell by the look on his face we both knew that wasn't entirely true.

"Still, I want to check," I headed for the exit quickly before anyone else could make another objection.

I found Nico on our dormitory corridor, he was pacing up and down shouting into his phone at a whisper scream.

"I'm not coming. I've told you a million times Miguel. You're not going to get this picture perfect family reunion you've always wanted. You can't make me come, I don't like to be there for the anniversary, I like being here and remembering her in my own way. I won't go there to hear all the shit they spout about her. I won't do it."

Nico caught sight of me watching him on the phone and immediately froze with a face like a rabbit caught in a car headlight. I took a step backwards feeling guilty for listening in but Nico immediately made a motion for me to stay.

"I can go," I mouthed

"I've got to go Miguel, don't ask about this again, my mind is made up." Nico hung up the phone and his eyes looked so tired and defeated I just wanted to hug him.

"Do you want to talk?" I offered nodding my head towards my room.

"Yeah," Nico nodded looking thoroughly downtrodden and I knew he'd never really admitting that he needed help before.

So we went into my room and lay on my bed with our legs up the wall and heads hanging over the edge staring at the room upside down. I always used to lie this way when I was talking with my mom late at night about our problems.

"Tell me what's going on," I instructed.

"It's the anniversary of my moms death next week and my brother wants us all to come but Cristian's away on a work trip and Camilla can't make it either. So now Miguel is putting all this pressure on me to go. There's this big formal family dinner that we do every year and it's so awkward, some aunt or another always gets really drunk and has to be carted off. All moms siblings make snide comments at each other about who's got the most successful children and try to big themselves up in front on my grandad to get as much of the inheritance as possible. It's fucking messed up. I hate having to go there on the anniversary of her death, I want to do something that celebrates her life not contradicts it. But Miguel's not my real problem here, when my dad finds out that I'm not going he's going to flip shit. I'll be made out as the bad guy for not being there to respect the anniversary of mom's death and he'll hold it against me until his dying day but I can't go anymore. If I don't put my foot down now when will I?"

When Nico finished he was practically panting he was so out of breath from his rant. I let him take a moment to calm down before speaking up.

"I think you're doing the right thing," I whispered, "I would do the same. You have to remember someone the way you think they would want you to. If someone told me I had to sit down at a formal dinner to remember my mom I'd laugh in their face. To celebrate her I'd have to be at a poker table with high stakes and a room full of arrogant men who I couldn't wait to beat. That would make me remember all the amazing things she did. You should do that, something that represents what your mom loved doing most."

"So you don't think I'm being selfish?" I could tell it took all of Nico's strength to admit that fear.

"Absolutely not," I met his dark intense brown eyes, "you lost your mom Nico and you have every right to grieve her however you choose to."

"Thanks," Nico whispered back reverently, I could tell how much he valued my response.

"How did she die?" I enquired cautiously.

"Breast cancer, it was long and messy and horrible," Nico barely got the words out they were so quiet but with the force they hit me it was as if he screamed them in my ear.

"I'm so sorry," I replied and reached over to squeeze his hand tightly in support, "tell me about her."

"She was amazing," Nico began and his face immediately began to glow with his love for her, "she just brought out the best in everyone around her. She was always so lovely to everyone and so kind and giving."

I let Nico keep talking about her for as long as he wanted because he needed that and also I enjoyed listening. I found that when people talked about things they truly loved it was so much easier to listen to them because you could hear their adoration ringing in every word and it made it that much more meaningful.

So I let him talk and talk and talk and hoped one day I'd be able to talk about my mom this way without wanting to cry uncontrollably every time I thought about her. Maybe, someday with time.

***