Drew got one side of the story from Kramer, and from the crowd that had formed. Everyone agreed that Kramer was only talking to Otto. Otto was the one who had provoked him into violence.

Just like last time with Crowley, the fault was laid firmly at David's feet.

Sitting in class, Drew's thoughts wondered. They had been doing that a lot recently. Of everyone he knew, no one got into trouble as much as David. Well, technically, that wasn't true. Crowley was known to bet on football games, and he didn't always win. It was also widely known that Crowley owed money all over town. And then there were his former teammates, who looked out for each other, covered for each other, on the field and off, who were alibies when packs of things were found, or when certain girls filed reports. Players who practiced until midnight, and then were hungover the next day. Their trouble was just...less seen, less heard.

Then Drew thought about David, the guy he'd known his whole life, who grew up a few blocks from him, but who he didn't really know. The guy who his sister loved as much as she loved him. The guy who kept to himself, and whose only transgressions were when others couldn't bring themselves to ignore him.

The guy who disappeared for three months when his sister died.

**

"I knew he went missing the day of her funeral," Drew said, the whine of the tattoo machine in his left ear. "He was gone for months, and when he came back, everything was different. Everyone had moved on, including my parents. They just put it all behind them and forgot about it. I mean, I guess I understand. It was the only way they could cope. They put away all her stuff, turned her room into a gym for me, but I could never bring myself to use it."

He paused.

"We never got along—me and David. Maybe I was jealous of their relationship," he shrugged his free shoulder, "Mary seemed to like him as much as she liked me. She even used to call him big brother sometimes. It drove me crazy, and maybe I hated him a little for that. But after she died, I don't know..." His voice faded once more. "After she died, it feels like he's the only one who remembers her. No one talks about her, because they're afraid of upsetting me or whatever, but, like, whenever we look at each other—" He stopped, remembering the brief eye contact from before, and blushed.

"What?" Jun asked, noting the color creeping into the teenager's cheeks.

"It's stupid."

"I doubt that."

Drew wouldn't meet the man's gaze, but shifted in his seat, making the leather creak. "When we look at each other it's like he sees me. Not the me everyone else knows, but the me I was with her. And in some ways, that makes her alive again. I'm not making sense, I know, I—"

The absence of pain in his arm made Drew look over, and he saw Jun just sitting, looking down, the machine still on in his hovering hand. "Uh, sir?"

With a slight jump, Jun looked up. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I was just—some things that didn't make sense before just made a lot."

"About what?"

"About David," Jun said with a smile. Bending back to work, he continued. "Three years ago, probably on the same night David disappeared from your life, he entered mine. I saw him walking on the side of the road, almost falling over from exhaustion. I pulled over, but he wouldn't say a word to me, just stared at me with glassy eyes, like his body was there, but not his soul. When I tried to take hold of him, he flinched away. I took a blanket from my car, wrapped it around him and picked him and shoved him in the backseat. It was basically kidnapping, but I couldn't just leave him, this boy all alone looking like a roaming ghost."

"Plus," Jun added, shifting needle position, "I had seen the sheriff getting tipsy at the bar earlier, and he was safer with me than on the side of a dark road, or with a sheriff who was about to spend the night passed out in the backroom of a bar. So, I took him home."

"Maya, my wife, was surprised, to say the least, when I turned up with a teenage boy. He wouldn't talk to her either, or let her touch him, but he ate, and laid down where we put him. We weren't sure what to do, to keep him or not—until we saw him with our little boy. Ren was two—he's so big now, by the way, running all over the place and getting into all kinds of trouble. The other day he—"

Drew listened politely while Jun talked about his son, and thanked God the man didn't stop to show him pictures. Eventually they got back to David.

"Anyway, what was I saying? Right, David. None of us could get near him—except Ren. David was drawn to him, and Ren loved him. You could literally see David come back to himself when he was around Ren. I think that's what saved him." Changing needles, Jun added, "David lived with us the whole time, before the sheriff took him back to his parents. I have to admit I miss him, not just because he's a good kid, but we used to leave him with Ren all day while we went to work. He's the best babysitter I've ever seen."

**

Drew frowned down at his desk. He had never known any of what Jun had said—no one had. He had only known that when David came back, he was different. Quieter. And he had stopped babysitting.

Class was over by now, and as Drew closed his notebook, where he had not taken a single note, Jun's last words floated to the front of his thoughts.

"You know," the man had said, as they walked out of the room, his tattoo complete and throbbing under the bandage. "About you and David—you're not friends, but you're not enemies, either. I can't help but think that since your sister loved you both, that that makes you like brothers."

Drew had never thought about it that way.

Lately, it seemed, he had been saying that to himself a lot.

**

"Yo, Drew, what are you doing, man?"

Stopping at the second floor landing of the stairwell, Drew turned back to see Andrew, the new Quarterback. The second bell had rung already, and they were the only ones there.

Catching up to the other boy, Andrew said, "I heard you went to Davis and told her everything. How could you do that man? You almost got Kramer kicked off the team."

"If I hadn't, Da—Otto would have been expelled," Drew replied.

"Why do you care so much about him, anyway?" Andrew asked. "Are you friends or something?"

Drew opened his mouth, the no right on the tip of his tongue. But it wouldn't come out this time. "I just didn't want to see him bring the team down."

"It's not really your place to decide what's good for the team or not, Boutan. You don't belong to it anymore."

Drew gave a scoff and a chuckle as he shook his head. "No, that's true," he said. "I don't play anymore. But," he added, "one word from me, and you won't either."

Andrew's eyes narrowed. "Is that a threat?"

"Yeah," Drew said. "It is."

Andrew's jaw clenched. "You wouldn't."

"You sure about that?" Drew stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I'm the one who sent the video of Crowley."

Andrew's eyes widened and his nostrils flared, but he held himself back. "You said it yourself, you don't want to see the team dragged down. You wouldn't dare say anything."

"Yeah," Drew said. "But you said it yourself; I don't belong anymore. So, what do I care?"

Andrew looked at him, searching the eyes for the player he once knew, but it was as if he was seeing a stranger. "You changed, Drew," he said. "What happened to you?"

Drew stepped back. "You wouldn't get it." Turning, he continued down the stairs. "None of you would."

**

On the other side of the school, at almost the exact same time, David was pacing back and forth in the third floor bathroom when the door opened.

"Hey," Jason said, coming in and closing the door behind him. "Thought I'd find you in here."

"And because I called and told you."

"Details," Jason said.

David cast a swift, brief, half smile, then his face fell into worry once more. He had never stopped pacing, his hands twisting each other in front of him. "They're going to expel me this time," he said.

"No, they're not," Jason said. He tried to put his hands on David's arm comfortingly as he came within reach, but the young man turned and paced out of his reach without noticing the gesture. "You didn't do anything," Jason continued, withdrawing his hand, and leaning against the sinks. "The guy wasn't even hurt."

"They're going to say he is. They're going to blame me for the whole thing and expel me when I'm a month away from graduation."

"You're being paranoid."

"Don't I have reason to be?" David asked.

"I know your history with them doesn't help," Jason said. "But, like you said, you're a month away from graduation, Bailey and Davis are in your corner, and the guy wasn't even hurt. He's in gym class right now playing basketball, so they can't claim he ever was."

As he spoke David's pace had slowed, and now he came to a stop and looked back at Jason. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Holding out his hands, he invited David to take them. "I also wanted to say, I'm proud of you," he said, leaning close and looking up into David's face. "I heard from some of the kids who were there, and it sounds like you held your own. Even managed to knock him on his ass with a certain defensive move. Good job."

Letting the other man pull him close, David accepted a kiss on his cheek with a small smile. "I had a good teacher," he said.

"Did you now? Well, I could also—"

The door banged open, making them both jump, and jump apart. Coming in a step, Drew paused. He looked from David to Jason, then back. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

David was all the way on the other side of the room, by the floor length window to the side of the urinals that made this bathroom virtually unusable. Crossing his arms over his chest, he shrugged.

"Well," Jason said, swinging his arms and rocking on the balls of his feet. "I guess I'll just...pee somewhere else." Passing Drew, he shot a supportive look to David behind Drew's back, then went through the door, closing it behind him with a clang.

"What do you want?" David asked, his accusatory voice echoing slightly with the acoustics.

"Why are you mad at me?" Drew asked. "I didn't attack you."

David turned his back to look out the window. "It might as well have been you," he mumbled under his breath. "They're your friends. If that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Drew, stepping closer, his own voice getting defensive.

"Nothing."

"Oh, so now you don't have anything to say? After you mouthed off to everyone who ever said a word to you, including me."

"I can do more than mouth off now. Your buddies should take note of that."

"No," Drew said, taking another step closer, "you should. You get into enough trouble just talking, think about what'll happen when you get physical."

"They're the ones who got physical first," David bit back.

"Which is why you can't," Drew said, his voice rising with his frustration. "Don't you get that? Kramer, Andrew, Crowley—they're just looking for an excuse to—"

"To what?" Whipping around, David shot him a dark glare. "To get rid of me? I know no one wants me here, Drew. I've known my whole life. And I'm not staying for the good memories. I'm staying because I have to, because it's necessary for what I want to do next, and I'll be dammed if I let any of you mess that up for me!"

Drew took a step back, eyes wide as he looked at the flushed face and clenched fists of the boy in front of him. He had never heard David raise his voice before. For a moment, he was actually speechless.

"I'm-I'm not trying to mess anything up for you," he said, hesitantly, slowly. "I was-I was trying to help."

David, breathing hard to bring himself back under control, closed his eyes. "I know," he said, his voice once more it's usually softness, but broken and unsteady. "I know they're your friends, and it's not easy to go against them."

"I—" Drew stopped, cleared his throat. "I gave Davis the video of Crowley. I just went and told her what happened with Kramer." A pause. "I'm your friend...too."

His chest constricting and his throat tightening, David opened his eyes and looked at the embarrassed boy who could only fleetingly meet his gaze. He had never been called a friend before, by anyone. Even with Jason, they were not friends. But he also knew that when it came down to it, if Drew had to pick between his other friends and David, Drew would never pick him.

"Is that friendship?" David asked, half to himself.

The odd note in his voice, so hollow and hurt, made Drew forget his embarrassment and look up. David was backlit by the window, and his face was shadowed. "What...?"

"Is that friendship?" David repeated. "To support me from behind the scenes, but never in front of it?"

Drew opened his mouth.

The PA buzzed to life, and the secretary's perpetual cheerful voice came through: Will David Otto please report to the principle's office? David Otto, to the principal's office.

They stood in silence for a moment, aware that a change had occurred between them, but unsure of what kind.

David was the first to move. Scooping up his bag from the floor by the sinks, he walked pass Drew, opened the door, paused, and then let it close gently behind him. Drew stood in the empty bathroom—the bathroom everyone knew David used and left alone for that reason—and wondered if he even knew what real friendship was.

**

David's walk to the principal's office replaced one worry with the other—or perhaps they were intertwined. He shook his head, clearing Drew from his thoughts, and focusing on the issue at hand. His gut clenched and unclenched, twisting into a knot of worry. Despite Jason's reassurance—and Drew's good intentions—he still believed this was it. He was about to be expelled, and all his hard work, all the plans he had with Jason...

He was waved through the outer office that smelled strongly of someone's fish lunch and paused at the door to the inner. Looking at the frosted pane with the Principal's name on it, he took a deep breath and knocked. From inside he heard a faint but clear "Come in." Grasping the doorknob, made cold from the air conditioning, his even colder, numb fingers turned it and pushed the door open.

Inside, Ms. Davis sat behind her desk, her hair open into a crown of natural curls, dressed in a smart blue suit. On the other side of the desk, their back to David, was someone else. As David walked in, they turned and stood to face him.

David stopped dead, the breath knocked from his lungs in a rush. The knot of dread in his gut melted into a myriad of new, confusing emotions: excitement, confusion, elation, fear...nostalgia.

Pale blue eyes looked at him anxiously from a face that was not unlike his own. Blond hair shinned in the light as the person shifted from one leg to the other.

David's mouth opened, he drew a breath, and let it out with a name: "Simon..."

"Hey, David," said his older brother, smiling at him. "Long time no see."