Danny sucked in a pained breath through his clenched teeth. He lifted the washcloth from his hip and tentatively touched the surrounding skin. It pulsed with pain.

He didn't even realize the bullet grazed his hip until later in the night when he tried to lay on his side. It wasn't worth almost dying over—twice actually—because the only thing in the bag from the sunken boat was a stupid compass.

It was John B's father's, but still.

He turned off the shower and grabbed his towel. He stepped out of the tub and wrapped it around his waist. Danny wiped his hand over the fogged mirror and stared at his reflection. His eyes focused on his frown.

He swallowed and forced the edges of his lips to lift. He held the position for a few seconds before a deep breath escaped his lungs, and he dropped his chin to his chest and leaned his hands on the counter space of the sink.

He was getting bad again.

His insomnia's always paired with his depression. He couldn't help it. As much as he forced himself to smile and forced sleeping pills down his throat, nothing worked the way he needed them to. It came in waves. He just had to ride it out like the last time.

People always said that depression's fake and easy to control, but he knew it wasn't. Why would he fake it in eighth grade when he first started to suffer? He had a great relationship with his mom, amazing friends, and was an honor roll student. He had no real reason to be sad, but he was anyway.

It was cliche to describe it like a storm cloud above his head, but that's what it felt like to him. He could use an umbrella to mask the effects; his mom, his friends, but the rain was still there. The harder he fought against the wind to keep his umbrella upright, the more drained he felt emotionally.

He lifted his head and stared at the mirror. He stretched a smile across his lips and held the position. He read somewhere once that the act of smiling will make a person happier. He kept it up until his cheeks ached and his lips wobbled.

Light knocks rapped against the door.

"Come in," Danny answered quietly. He ran his fingers through his hair to try and style it.

JJ peaked his head through the crack in the door. "You all right?" he asked hesitantly.

Danny can easily brush aside a lot of mindless bullshit, but the only thing that really gets to him is people worrying about him. It's a bit hypocritical since that's practically his job title in the friend group, but he hated when the roles were reversed.

He'll shut down and change the topic. He loved being the center of attention, but not when it really mattered.

He felt too vulnerable, too exposed, too real.

"Yeah, I'm great. Why?"

Danny glanced over JJ's shoulder when he heard a crash in the kitchen. He rolled his eyes to himself as he opened the mirror to grab his toothbrush.

JJ stepped into the bathroom. He closed the door and leaned against it. "Well, you only take long showers when you're sad," he whispered.

Danny stopped his teeth from grinding against each other, filtering his eyes in JJ's direction before staring into the mirror again. "Well, maybe I was waiting for you to join me."

"You can talk to me, you know? About anything."

Danny closed his eyes and let his features drop slack, too tired to keep schooling them into something presentable. He nodded.

"Truth for truth?"

It was a game they used to play a lot. It was for entertainment mostly. They'd spill the most embarrassing memories or their deepest desires, but only occasionally did they use it for more therapeutic purposes. It was under the guise of the game, which was just as far as Danny was willing to go most of the time.

Danny didn't respond, but JJ took it as an acceptance.

JJ stepped forward and rested his hip against the corner of the sink. "I think I sometimes use weed as a crutch."

Danny stared at JJ's unrelenting gaze. His teeth tugged at his lip anxiously. "My dad makes me miserable."

JJ's lips parted slightly.

Danny didn't allow himself to regret saying that. His friends hardly see his father in passing, and Danny sure as hell never brings him up, so it's easy to assume nothing to be amiss. This confession had his heart pounding.

Danny cleared his throat and smiled brightly. He could see the questions formulating in JJ's head, but that wasn't how the game worked.

"Right, well," Danny said and reached around JJ to grasp the door handle. He pulled the door open. "I'm gonna rub one out. Goodbye."

JJ hesitated a moment. "Don't be too long. John B's making pancakes."

Danny closed the door on his face.

***

"You know, Lou?" Danny said, his voice strained from reaching too far. "I think I hate the paint jobs most of all."

"Oh," Lou said from the opposite side of the hulking yacht. "You hate working here, do ya?"

Danny chuckled in response.

"I have a whole list of applicants in my office that would love to paint."

"You know I'm the best you've got," Danny said. He dipped the brush into his bucket and continued with slow, meaningful strokes. "I like the tough, nitty-gritty work that makes you think. Painting is too easy."

He heard Lou hum in thought.

"I used to think that," Lou said. He rounded the yacht and looked over Danny's work. "Missed a spot." He pointed.

Danny painted over it wordlessly.

Lou watched him. A frown tugged at the corner of Danny's lips. It had all day. "You all right, kid?"

Danny glanced at him but didn't respond. He continued to paint.

Just when Lou didn't think Danny was going to answer, he said quietly, "I just don't get why she always chooses him over me."

Lou sighed. He was familiar with the jackass that was Danny's father. It was the only time he'd ever seen Danny cry. Lou pulled over a chair and sat in it while Danny continued his strokes.

"He's just so—" he shook his head to cut off his words. If he started down that road, then he'd never stop. "She knows that he doesn't . . . support me, but she doesn't know exactly how bad it is. But I don't think I should be the one to tell her, you know? She should just know." Danny huffed and took a deep breath.

Lou stayed silent and let Danny rant. He knew better than to interrupt.

"I'm just so angry that she didn't leave him after the drugs. Hell, before, during, or after, really. She can do so much better. She deserves better. I know they don't love each other anymore. So, why can't she make it easier on all of us, and kick him out?"

"And how do you feel?" Lou asked.

Danny scoffed. He put his brush in the bucket and stared at the boat. "I can't look at him without wanting to kill him. But I know she gets upset when she catches us fighting, so I don't do anything."

Danny ground his jaw, and then seethed, "Day after Agatha he told me to make myself useful first thing in the morning. I know he didn't even lift a finger to clean anything. He calls me faggot more than he's ever used my fucking name. I hate that word." Danny shook his head. "I fucking hate that word."

"Does he hit you?"

Danny shook his head once more and grabbed the brush, running it against the edge of the can to rid the excess paint. "Terrible to say, but I wish he did," Danny whispered. "That way at least she'd know."

Danny swallowed thickly. "I just . . . it gets hard. It's constant. Like, like it's his life's mission." He sighed. "It gets to you after a while, you know?"

"Hey," Lou said. "Look at me, kid."

Danny turned his head. Lou sat forward on the chair, his elbows on his knees. His eyebrows were pinched and his lips set in a firm line. "It keeps getting to you, you come to my house, all right."

Danny's lips quirked. "Okay."

Lou stood and clapped once. "Okay. Now, move some where else. You've been painting the same spot for the past ten minutes."

Danny laughed but did as he was told.

***

"Hello?"

Danny paused. He set down the paint cans and stepped out of the supply closet. He looked toward Lou's office and saw the man with a pen in his mouth and a document in his hands. Danny furrowed his eyebrows.

He walked toward the garage opening. "We're closed," he announced. He wiped his hands on a rag and tossed it on his shoulder.

"I'm looking for a rim job. Do you do that here?" the voice said from the entrance.

Danny furrowed his eyebrows. "Look, man," Danny said, exhaustion seeping into his tone. "I said we're—" He paused after he rounded the corner and saw JJ's shit eating grin.

Danny rolled his eyes.

"Will you reconsider?"

"Fuck off," Danny said, but he couldn't keep the smile from pulling at his lips. He turned around and walked back inside. He could hear JJ following after him.

He continued to stack the cans of paint while JJ messed with the rolling tool cart.

"Hey, just out of curiosity," JJ said and held up two different tools in his hands. "How many of these are stolen?"

Danny pondered for a moment, humming lowly to himself. "I plead the fifth."

JJ laughed. "I'll take that as a lot."

Danny closed the closet door and locked it. He walked across the shop floor to Lou's office. He jolted when he heard tools crash to the floor. Danny turned and accused, "Dude!"

"That's my bad," JJ muttered and crouched to pick everything up and place on the tool cart.

Danny knocked once on Lou's door and opened it. He stepped in and placed the key back on the hook. "I'm gonna shower and head out."

"All right," Lou muttered and continued to read over his files.

Danny turned to go but paused after a second thought. "Lou," he said before he lost his nerve. "Thanks for . . ." he trailed off and cast his eyes to the ground.

Lou looked up and set his files on the desk. "You're a good kid, Danny."

Danny shrugged and twisted the door handle in discomfort. Lou stood and rounded the desk. Danny watched him walk over.

Lou placed his hand on Danny's shoulder and squeezed. "I'm proud of you. You should be proud of yourself too. Don't forget that, all right?"

Danny took in his serious expression and nodded. "Yeah."

Lou nodded and wrapped Danny in a hug. Danny latched on and felt the weight stripped from his shoulders. Lou pat his back twice and Danny detached himself.

He smiled slightly and said, "Night."

Lou leaned in the doorway and watched Danny motion for JJ to follow. Danny walked down the hall and JJ hesitated and waved to Lou after a quick moment. "Hey, Mr. Brekker," he tossed over his shoulder in greeting as he raced down the hall after Danny.

Lou shook his head and smiled, retreating into his office. "Idiots."

"What was that about?" JJ asked Danny.

"Nothin'," he said and pulled his towel and a fresh set of clothes from his locker. He walked across the hall to the bathroom and turned on the shower. JJ followed him.

Danny loved this shop. He was a simple man, really. He had a locker with clothes and other essentials, a bathroom stocked with his products, a lounge area, and a room above Lou's office with Danny's old middle school Batman sheets on the full bed.

He slept here most nights he had a closing shift. It was a perfect setup. Lou gave him a key for a reason. He could walk the short distance down the steps and work on the repairs if his insomnia won the battle.

Almost every morning when Danny stayed over working on the boats, Lou would hand him a coffee and offhandedly comment how he was glad he gave Danny the shop in his will. Danny didn't know if he was joking or not.

"Dude, you would not believe the day we had," JJ gushed. He leaned his back against the wall and stared at himself in the mirror as Danny stepped into the shower.

"Oh, yeah?" Danny said. "What happened?"

JJ took a drag of his Juul, and leaped into the story. "So, after you left, John B and I went to Ms. Lana's house to talk about the compass. And these dudes were there banging on her and glass was breaking, and I got paint chips all over me. It was crazy."

"Is she okay?"

JJ asked, "What?" but then answered after processing, "Oh, yeah. She's just shaken up. Which I don't blame her because then those dudes, the ones that shot you, came to John B's next!"

"What!"

"Dude, yes! They came and trashed his place looking for the compass. They took loads of his dad's stuff. They literally almost killed us. We had to jump out the window of his dad's office. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "And John B's compass is a death compass."

"Shit. You okay?"

JJ took another drag and moved to sit on the toilet lid. "Yeah, I'm fine. Kie and John B got arrested though."

Danny peaked through the shower curtain and stared at JJ to determine if he was joking or not. "When?"

"When we went to the lighthouse afterward. That was kind of a bust though. You didn't miss anything."

Danny rinsed the soap from his hair and turned the water off. He opened the curtain and took the towel JJ held for him. He wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out.

Before he could take another step, JJ's hand on his hip held him in place.

"Does it hurt?" JJ asked, his thumb ghosting along the edge of the gash peaking above the towel.

"Nah, I don't even flinch at bullet wounds," he joked.

JJ's touch burned his skin more than anything else. Danny's breath caught when JJ's soft breaths fanned over his stomach.

He couldn't stop the thoughts attacking his mind; mostly all including JJ currently sitting in front of him with a hand on his waist. Only mere inches stretched between JJ's lips and Danny's body.

He forced the desire from his mind as his cheeks heated with shame.

"You need to be more careful. You can't keep almost dying on me."

Danny scoffed and walked to the mirror, needing to step away. He fixed his hair and spoke, "Name, like, one other time."

"Okay," JJ said, stepping up to the challenge. He counted off on his fingers. "Well, obviously getting shot is one. Two: running out of air and almost drowning."

"Technically that wasn't my fault. It was the polices'."

"Three: Topper almost drowning you. I'm starting to see a reoccurring theme here."

"Two instances aren't a theme. And Topper didn't almost drown me."

"And you know, four is probably infection because you still haven't covered that." He pointed at Danny's hip. "You have, like, zero sense of self-preservation."

"Okay," Danny thought, "I'll give you that one."

JJ shot him a smug smile.

Danny pointed over his shoulder to the lockers. "Can you get me a bandage then?"

JJ stood and brushed past Danny. He looked through the medical box sitting on top of the row of lockers. All that was inside was medical tape, gauze, cling wrap, and anti-bacterial spray.

"Dude, no bandaids. But you should spray this."

Danny towel-dried his hair and stepped from the bathroom. "Seriously?" He glanced at the supplies. He pulled down the waistband of his pants and sprayed twice. "Lou should have some in his office. Can you check, and I'll finish up?"

"So needy."

Danny shrugged. "Then it's all right. You don't have to."

JJ shoved the box into Danny's arms. "I was kidding."

JJ walked down the hall to Lou's office and Danny shouted his appreciation.

***

Weird things always happened when Danny smoked. Not weird like his hair turning purple, or his eyebrows falling out. But weird like whichever emotion Danny felt before smoking, amplified by twenty.

Maybe that was normal. But again, Danny didn't smoke much, so how should he know.

He still didn't know how JJ talked him into it. They had a goal tonight. It wasn't the time to be falling off the rails, and yet it was still so easy to instead jump off the rails.

When JJ told Danny to open his mouth, he should've been suspicious. But instead, he felt his dick twitch when JJ leaned over him and blew the smoke directly into his mouth. He had to physically stop the words, 'do it again' from pouring out of his mouth.

"Danny?" Pope asked.

Danny tried to turn his head from his starfish position in the back of the van. "Yes, Pope, darling."

"Are you hard right now?"

He heard the others laugh and exclaim their bewildered confusion. He groaned.

"I will answer as not technically."

Danny felt his head spinning. He attempted to focus on the Black Widow sticker on the roof of the van as he was jostled back and forth the further they drove along the back roads. He was sweating, overly aware of the way his shirt was sticking to his chest; John B's air conditioning on its last legs.

"'Not technically' is not an option?" Pope said as he turned halfway around the seat, his arm hanging over the back. "It's either yes or no. You have a boner or you don't."

"Jesus, Danny," Kie said and placed her head in her hands. She turned around in the front seat and shared a laugh with JJ.

Danny lifted his hand in the air, and then it fell to his chest like a frozen Christmas ham when his head spun even more. "I will not be boner-shamed! And it's not even fully hard. Just half. But if any of you touch me, then we will have a raging hard-on, that is for sure."

"Why do you even have one?! We're going to a graveyard, not one of your mom's shows."

Danny struggled to flip onto his stomach and push up onto his elbows. He was embarrassingly lightweight. He didn't want to even know if that's a thing with weed. He stared sternly at Pope whose eyes were blown wide in disbelief of the situation. "Listen here, Pope."

Danny nodded and then blinked harshly to keep his mind on track. "Take a look at JJ. Okay, do it."

JJ glanced at Danny in confusion, but he appeased the boy and looked at Pope, a smile growing on his face at Pope's steady discomfort.

"Now, you tell me if you would not be dialed to ten if he blew smoke in your mouth."

JJ coughed on his inhale of the joint. He pounded his chest and turned to Danny. "What?"

Kie howled with laughter and John B had to fight to keep his eyes on the road and not turn his head to the back of the van.

"Danny, what the actual fuck?" Pope said.

Danny couldn't even process the severity of his words, continued with, "Easily top-ten hottest JJ moments." He paused to recalculate and then nodded. "Yeah. Top-ten."

JJ leaned his elbows on his knees and innocently asked, "What're the other nine?" He took a drag and blew it in Danny's direction.

Pope slapped his shoulder.

Danny hummed. He counted off on his fingers, "Earlier tonight. Uh, when—"

"What happened earlier?" Kie exclaimed. JJ shushed her. She swatted away the finger held in her direction.

"—he punched Chris Flemmings freshman year. Wearing my mom's suits. When his voice is all, like, breathy and panting—"

"All right!" John B yelled in amusement. He stopped the van and put it in park. "I think we get it."

"No, no," Kie laughed. "I'm kinda intrigued. Keep going, Danny."

"Yeah," JJ said, his lips spread in an ear-splitting smile. "Keep going, Danny."

"Well that's too bad," John B countered. "Because we're here."

Danny sat up and looked at John B in complete sincerity. "Well, I can tell you your top-ten hottest moments too."

John B paused halfway out of the door. "Oh, well that's—"

"No," JJ interrupted. "I still have six more."

Pope rolled his eyes and opened the side door. He hopped out and said, "Do not have sex in the back seat, I swear to God."

Danny may have some dignity, because he flushed deep scarlet and crawled out after Pope, tumbling to the ground. He pushed himself up and wiped away the leaves and dirt sticking to his jeans. He cleared his throat and kept his eyes planted on the entrance of the graveyard.

"Danny, Danny, Danny," JJ muttered from the opening of the van. They watched the other three venture further through the grounds, shining their flashlights over the tombs, looking for John B's relative Olivia Redfield.

"Always full of surprises, huh?"

Danny felt himself burning up from the inside out. He wasn't sober enough to decide if it was from embarrassment or something even more deeply embarrassing.

Danny watched JJ tilt his head from his peripheral, his eyes trailing Danny up and down. "What was it, again?" JJ hummed in amusement. "I dial you to ten?"

Danny has never regretted his word-vomit so much in his entire life. His weed-induced delirium has never bit him in the ass so hard as it has right now, and he has no one but to blame but himself. "Mm-hmm."

"JJ!" Pope yelled and waved his arm for them to follow. "Let's go!"

JJ threw up his middle finger. He stepped in front of Danny and narrowed his eyes in consideration. "Want to dial it to eleven?"

Danny raised a questioning eyebrow.

Was he flirting? No. No, he couldn't be. He's just making fun of Danny. Movement at JJ's waist caught his eye. JJ lifted the blunt to his mouth. Right, just smoking.

"Yeah," he answered before he made up his mind.

Danny took a step back and leaned against the side of the van. He pulled JJ closer to him by hooking a finger through his belt loop. After JJ took a drag, Danny grasped the boy's jaw and leaned in, his lips centimeters away.

His gaze stayed locked on JJ's hooded eyes as the smoke transferred and he breathed deeply. He swallowed the groan threatening to break free and tilted his head back to look at the sky.

"Merde," he mumbled.

***

"Finally," Pope said as Danny and JJ walked closer toward the group. "Help us push this."

Danny took in the huge crypt. Redfield was carved at the top, partially hidden behind the dead vines falling from the top. It looked so unkept, it made Danny sad. "I don't ever want to be buried. Kie, make sure you cremate me."

"Sure."

John B, Pope, and JJ pushed on the entrance, and Danny squinted to try and make out any progress they were making. It didn't seem like much of any.

"Are you even pushing?" Danny asked.

"Shut up!" John B called from over his shoulder. "You could help, you know?"

"I could," Danny answered with a lazy smile. He propped his arm on Kie's shoulder. "I like listening to you struggle."

Pope conceded first. He stepped back with a tired huff. "This door is like 700 pounds. It's not gonna budge."

Danny shielded his eyes when JJ turned around. He still didn't get why JJ got the headlight instead of him.

"We didn't come this far to get this far, all right?" JJ said. "We got this."

Before JJ could move back to the door, a snake crept from the small crack and slithered in the grass at their feet.

"Woah!"

Danny watched lazily, his brain still too foggy to make sense of it. Kie jumped behind him and grabbed his arm.

JJ crouched to get a closer look. "That's a moccasin, all right. Ye olde Dr. Cottonmouth. Death in tall grass."

Danny broke into a fit of giggles when JJ started barking.

"JJ, shut up. Shut up!" Kie ordered. She peered around Danny's shoulder to take a look at the ground.

"You're gonna wake the dead, man," Pope added. He rolled his eyes at Danny when the boy laughed again.

"They're afraid of dogs," JJ argued. "Everyone knows that, man. Wait, hold on."

John B asked, "What?"

"If there's one, there's probably dozens."

"What?"

"All around."

"Stop," Kie said. "You're scaring me."

Danny frowned and wrapped his arms around her. "Shh," he said. "I've got you." He smiled easily and ran his hand down her hair. He smushed the sides of their faces together and muttered, "See? All better."

Kie snorted. "Yes. All better."

Danny rested his forehead on her shoulder and closed his eyes. He rocked almost unperceptively side to side, content to feel Kie's fingernails trace up his back. He frowned when she unlatched and took a step away.

"Where're you goin'?"

Danny took in the scene: Pope and John B holding back the vines, JJ braced against the crypt with his fingers interlocked, and Kie stepping on his hand and lifting herself up.

"What's happening?" Danny asked in confusion. He looked at JJ for an answer, but the boy just shook his head.

"Kie?" Danny called. He walked forward toward the crypt. He grabbed the top of the entrance and stood on his tip-toes to peer inside. "Kie?" he stage-whispered. "What are you doing? Are you okay? Are there dead people?"

Kie crouched down and patted his head. "I'm fine, Danny. I don't see dead people. I'm looking for a clue."

After a moment, she gasped and Danny was grabbing a package from her hand. He tossed it over his shoulder carelessly and reached up to help Kie down.

"Danny!"

He interlocked his arms around her back and spun her around once she was clear of the crypt. He smiled at the sound of her laughter.

John B stared down at the package. "This is from my dad," he said.

A noise further in the graveyard captured their attention. Danny squinted his eyes in that direction. It looked like a golf cart. Why would a golf cart be here? That's not right.

He turned to ask, but no one was beside him anymore. "Where. . . ?"

"Get over here!" JJ whisper-shouted from behind the wall of the crypt. He motioned his hand and looked desperately between Danny and the golf cart.

Pope leaned around JJ. He muttered, "This is the last time you let him smoke, oh my God."

JJ nodded in exasperation.

"What are you guys saying?"

"Come here, Danny," Pope whispered. When Danny got close enough, Pope latched his hand around Danny's wrist and pulled him around the side of the crypt.

"Are we playing hide-and-seek? I love that game."

JJ nodded placatingly. "Yes. We need to run away and hide from them. Yeah?" He glanced around the side of the wall and told the others, "Homie's got a gun."

Surprisingly enough, Danny was the first to take off running and jumping over the wall to the graveyard, the others following him.

"Guys! Guys!" Pope cried.

"Shit," Kie said and stared up at Pope, his shorts stuck on the post of the gate.

"Guys, I'm stuck"

"Pope, come on!"

"I got you," Kie said and she and John B pulled at his waist.

"You're gonna rip me. Wait. You're gonna rip me!"

His shorts tore off and he bent at the waist as he followed them to the van. Danny laughed and clutched his stomach.

They all piled in and John B peeled away from the scene.

*****

I loved writing this chapter.
We saw a peek into Danny's life, what do we think?

Thanks for reading <3
R