It was summer in the room, a long time ago. Usually the boys found them outside every day during this time, in the backyard spraying one another with hoses, or in the front, conspiring with the neighborhood kids to do something that would inevitably get them in trouble, but it was one of those days when their mother forbid them from leaving the safety of the air conditioning as the temperature rose to the triple digits. This wasn't an common occurrence– their mother usually preferred them to be outside during the summer, so she could work from home peacefully inside– but it happened often enough that they only wallowed in self pity for a few short minutes before going up to the bedroom of Ace, the oldest of the two, to play board games in the sunlight from the window.

It was also winter there, only about a year and a half later, and it was night. James was in his brother's room again, at a time far later than his parents permitted. Because of this, the boys were quiet, huddled under Ace's blankets together with a flashlight and a book about dinosaurs, whispering to one another about their favorites and fun facts they were sure the other didn't know. It wasn't the first night James had snuck into his brothers room, and it was far from the last.

Summer again, only many many years later, when James had just finished his second to last year of middle school, and Ace his freshman year. It was another night, though this time they weren't bothering to hide under the covers, knowing their parents weren't going to check and see if they were asleep. James was crying, softly, but he wasn't hiding his face. He never felt ashamed to cry in front of his brother. Instead, his hands rested fisted in his lap, fingers clenched around the fabric of his pajama pants. "I need to tell you something," he had said, voice wavering him but still present. "I've needed to tell you something for a while, actually".

"James?" His mother's voice pulled him out of his memories just as easily as he had fallen into them. He tore his eyes away from the empty room and leaned back slightly to look out of the door way, down the hall. It took a moment, but his mother eventually made her way to the top of the stairs, and turned her head to look at him. At the sight of him, she smiled, but the expression was still a little sad.

James worried it always would be.

"Hey mom," he greeted, giving her a smile even though he knew it looked tired. Her shoes made soft scuffing noises on the newly stained floor as she approached, and he found his eyes lingering on the unfamiliar rich color of the wood.

It was one of the things they had splurged on in order to sell the house at a reasonable price, as well as new windows and paint throughout the majority of the house– all things that had been worn down over time with two boys in the house playing.

"Looking at the old room?" She asked, coming to a stop next to him, close enough that her shoulder pressed into his. It was her way to provide him comfort, as well as take some herself. They both needed it, he knew, as they turned their heads to look into the empty room. It held a lot of memories for her as well. It had been the room had once held Ace's crib, the room she had gone to in the middle of the night to rock her first born as he cried. The pain in his chest must have only been a fraction of hers. "It's weird, seeing it empty".

James turned his face away from the room, instead looking at the side of his mother's face, taking in her misty eyes, as well as her turned up lips. The more you smile the better you'll feel, had been her motto for many years– she had said it to them as children before gently pulling on their cheeks– and James admired her for sticking by it. Even though she had many reasons not to smile, she still did, all the time. "Yeah," he agreed after the pause, blue eyes shifting away from his mother. He didn't quite look in the room, his eyes unfocused as he spoke again. "Seems bigger".

"It does". It was silent, and then there was a soft sniffling noise. It sounded as if she was trying to prevent him from knowing that she was crying, so he didn't acknowledge it, only continued to look blankly ahead. "I'm sure the family moving in will appreciate the space".

The family moving in consisted of two parents in their early twenties, and three young children. It was a good home for a family with kids, or at least, it had been for them. James hoped they enjoyed the house.

He also hoped that this time, all of the young residents lived long enough to graduate high school.

"They will". Most of his conversations with either of his parents pertaining to topics even remotely involving his brother were like this now: short, polite, impersonal. It was like they feared saying something around him that would throw him back into his state of despair, the one he had left only a month before. He was stronger than that, and he hoped that some part of his parents understood that. "I'm sorry I was taking so long. I know you said we should leave soon. I just... I was trying to remember everything that happened in here before we leave, but I think there's too many memories and too little time".

Her breath caught, and then a hand was resting against his forearm. He looked down at it, staring at the lines of her fingers rather than her distressed face. Her nails were bitten down as far as they could be, and he thought back to a time nearly a year before when she would have been horrified by this. "You don't have to leave the memories here, you know. If you don't remember them all now, it doesn't mean you can't remember them later". The hand on his arm tightened then in a gesture of comfort. "I know it's hard, but it's going to be nice getting a fresh start".

He didn't know his mother really felt this way, but he knew the situation was more complex than his parents let on. They weren't only getting a fresh start because it would be nice, they were getting one because they had no choice. James knew it was a fresh start now, or sell the house when their money ran out in a few months, and even then, there was no guarantee that his father would be able to find a new job. He had pretty much been blacklisted by his previous employer, who unfortunately had a great influence over many of the other companies in the area. In the opinion of anyone who knew Frank Anders the blacklisting was completely uncalled for and unfair– sure the man had taken off more days than the company provided, but he had done so to take care of his dying seventeen year old son– but the rest of the community didn't know the real story didn't care enough to learn. Thankfully, James's father had been good at his job, and a glowing recommendation from an old family friend had secured the man a job at a similar company in Chicago, Illinois.

While it was a far, and expensive move, the company his father had been hired for was known for hiring employees from out of state, and was very accommodating. The Bradford's company was paying for the two moving trucks, providing the Anders' family with a house on the outskirts of Chicago that they only had to play utilities for, and even had given them a fair sum of money to upgrade their current house so they had been able to sell it at a good price. James wondered if this was something they did for all of their new employees, or if Pete Amore had really said some amazing things about his father, things that made the new employer, Mr. Bradford, feel as if he couldn't possibly go without his father's advisement.

It had his parents all excited, both of them delighted that his father was about to be working for an employer who actually cared about the people working for him and would be understanding when problems arose in the family. According to Tyler, Mr. Bradford had a large family himself, and he took their success very seriously.

James was happy for his dad, sure, but the new job wasn't why he somewhat excited for the move. He didn't want to leave Florida, it had been his home his entire life, and he wasn't exactly looking forward to experiencing winter, but Illinois had something that Florida didn't. Illinois had his best friend, Tyler, the son of the same Pete Amore who had given his father's new boss the recommendation.

The Amore's used to live just down the street from them up until five or so years ago, when Mr. Amore was hired by Mr. Bradford and received a large sum of money as an incentive to move. From the ages of four to twelve, Ty and James had been inseparable, spending their summers at one another's homes, following Ace around because he was two years older and clearly knew more than them about what was cool. Tyler's move at the end of fifth grade had been difficult on the both of them, but it hadn't really affected their friendship. They still spoke as much as usual, only now it was over the phone rather than in person. Ty had even visited Florida a handful of times over the year, but he hadn't been back since Ace's funeral, nearly six and a half months ago.

"Yeah, a fresh start" James mumbled, thinking about how nice it was going to be to be reunited with Tyler. After Ace, Tyler was the person James trusted best in the world. It would be nice to be around someone he could tell everything to again. "It'll be great mom". The smile he gave her was one of the few sincere ones he'd mustered over the last few months.

He was filled with happiness when she returned his real smile with one of her own, but it faded quickly, and her eyes shifted off to the side. The air between them was suddenly slightly awkward, and he was just about to ask what was wrong when she sighed and said, "you have a visitor". There were multiple aspects of the situation that told James who she was talking about.

There was only one person in the world who would make her advert her eyes and flush when she was talking to her son, one person she would have told to wait on the first floor while she went up to tell James he was here. One person she wouldn't want James to be alone with anymore. Their eyes met, and he could read in her eyes that his assumption was right. Taylor. "He's in the living room with your father".

That wasn't good. "Alone?" James inquired, eyes wide.

His mother cracked a smile, this one far different from the last one; slightly embarrassed, but also coy. It was a strange combination on his mother, and given the situation it slightly worried him. "He's not going to hurt the poor boy," she claimed. James could very well remember a day, nearly a year before, when his father had threatened to do more than hurt Taylor as he escorted the shirtless boy out of the house. It was an unpleasant memory, for him and his mother both, though he was sure she was thinking about it at the moment, and she seemed particularly amused.

James didn't acknowledge this last comment, only shook his head before moving out of the doorway of his brother's old room. For just a second, he considered stopping and peering in one last time, but he knew that he'd get stuck in his previous trance as another memory came back to him, and he preferred to rescue Taylor sooner rather than later.

Even so, he was taking the walk from the upstairs bedrooms to the downstairs for what he assumed would be the last time, so he took his time, allowing himself to appreciate all the places he had once used to hide during hide and seek, and all the walls he had written on with crayon as a kid– even though the marks had been covered recently by a new layer of paint, he would always know what lie beneath it.

The staircase opened into the living room, so he was able to catch a glimpse of his father on the way down. The man was standing in the center of the empty room, his arms crossed as he sternly looked ahead, towards the large front window, though James knew he was looking at something on the inside rather than the outside. He couldn't fully see that something until he was near the base of the stairs.

Taylor was sitting on the built in window seat, seeming extremely uncomfortable, and James briefly considered the fact that maybe he'd look less tense if the cushion was still present, before his eyes flicked back to his father and he though: no, probably not. "James," Taylor said as a kind of greeting, his wide eyes moving back and forth between James and his father nervously.

Taylor wouldn't have returned to this house unless he had something he desperately wanted to say to him, and James doubted the cowardly boy's ability to do so with his father standing there. It was slightly amusing to James that his father had such an effect on Taylor– his father of all people, the man who was often known for being incredibly kind and laid back– but he didn't want to make his guest uncomfortable, especially since he doubted he would ever see Taylor again in his lifetime. "Hey dad?" James said, gathering his father's attention to him for a split second before the man was looking at Taylor again, expression similar to one of someone looking at a cockroach.

The look was not something new. At one point, back when he had cared for Taylor, he had asked his brother about this look, concerned that his father only used it because Taylor was gay. Ace had found this to be a funny statement, and after reminding James that their parents had always been accepting of others sexualities, he claimed, with an ease that had majorly pissed James off at the time: dad doesn't look at Taylor like that because he's gay, he looks at Taylor like that because he's annoying.

At the time, James had been unwilling to admit this, but as his relationship with Taylor had evolved, and eventually ended, he came to be bothered by the fact the boy only spoke about his personal issues and successes, and had unwarranted confidence in himself when it came to nearly everything. Very clearly, James could remember Taylor pouting for days after receiving a test score a letter below him, even though James had studied, and Taylor had not. It would feel satisfying to say that James had ended the relationship due to the fact that Taylor had driven him insane, but that was sadly not how things ended up playing out.

"Could you give us a minute?" James requested, ignoring Taylor's presence for the time being as he looked only at his father. He was aware of the fact that the man would not want to leave them alone, given the actions that had conspired the last time the two boys had been left alone, but James desperately hoped his father knew him well enough to know nothing like that would ever happen again. At least, not with Taylor.

"James, I don't think that's such a good idea," his father claimed, seeming far from thrilled with the way Taylor's lips twitched into a small sort of smile at James's suggestion.

"It'll be quick dad. Just give us some time". His father looked at him then, expression suddenly unsure, and James chewed his lip nervously. His parents had always been reluctant to allow him and his brother to have persons of their preferred sex alone with them in their bedrooms– close friends being the acceptance of course– but they had never been restricted from sharing the living room with them. "Dad, please".

There was a moment of tense silence, and then his father heavily sighed, his shoulders dropping. "Fine," he grumbled, sounding extremely displeased with the situation. "Just a few minutes though. Your mother wants to leave soon". With that, and one last look directed at Taylor, his father turned away and retreated to the upstairs, probably to voice his displeasure to his wife. James knew his mother would immediately inform his father he was being ridiculous and prevent the man from eavesdropping. While she was less than thrilled about everything James had done with Taylor, she knew her son wasn't exactly happy with it either– they had a discussion about it, nearly a month after the incident had occurred– and wouldn't be too concerned leaving the two boys on their own for a minute.

"They still don't like me, huh?" Taylor inquired, his voice sounding less strained than it had moments before when he had breathed James's name. "I mean, I get it, but I don't really. It's not like I ever physically abused you–" The image of Taylor– Taylor, who was literally half his weight and a handful of inches shorter– physically abusing him almost made James laugh. He didn't though, since laughing would most definitely offend Taylor and his delicate ego, and James didn't want their last interaction to end with the other boy pouting. "–I mean, I did contribute in outing you, but they aren't disappointed in you for being gay, right?"

James just looked down at the boy with narrowed eyes for a moment before sighing and crossing the room, taking a seat on the bench next to him, making sure there was a comfortable amount of distance between them. "They're still adjusting, but they don't mind". Taylor just blinked at him with very wide brown eyes. The looked bothered James, since he knew Taylor well enough to know he was widening his eyes for the sole purpose of making himself look innocent. "They weren't thrilled at first. I think they wished that I wasn't gay, because it meant my life would be easier, and I wouldn't have to face homophobia and discrimination, but after losing Ace they stopped acting different around me".

When he looked back at Taylor to see his reaction, he was greated with a very familiar expression. It was the one he saw most often after the death of his brother, the I'm sorry for your loss, you can cry if you need to look, but it hadn't been very present in his life recently. The people he actually spent time around had already gotten the look out of the way over the past six months, but Taylor was not one of these people. James was vaguely aware of the fact that this was probably the first time Taylor had actually looked at him within the past year. It was this realization that had him asking, "What are you doing here, Taylor?"

Immediately, he was happy he asked, because Taylor's expression evolved to one of surprise. "What do you mean: what am I doing here? I came to say goodbye to you. You're moving out of state, James, and we probably never see one another again". All of this was true, but it still didn't make sense to James. If he wasn't moving, he would be attending the same school as Taylor for their last two years of highschool, and they'd graduate together, and move on to college without another word to one another. Something similar must have been going through Taylor's head, because he sighed loudly and scrunched his eyes shut. "Look, James, I've been a bad friend to you, and I didn't want to end it like that, okay? We've been through too much for that". And then, because it was Taylor and he was an asshole, he smiled smugly and said in a low voice, probably incase James's father was still listening, "I mean, I did take your virginity".

The exacerbated sigh left James's lips before he could stop it. It had always been a thing between them, in the few short months of their relationship. Sex meant less to Taylor, because he wasn't a virgin, so when they finally did it, after weeks of pressure, the other boy saw it as James giving him something special, while Taylor offered him nothing in return. He didn't comment on it though, because it sort of had been that way. Instead, he focused on the far more surprising part of Taylor's statement. "Are we actually friends?"

The wide eyed look came back for half a second, and then Taylor's eyebrows were drawing together, perplexed. "Well we were".

"A long time ago," James pointed out. "I don't think we qualify as friends anymore though. I mean, you haven't spoken to me since that day you were kicked out of my house. Even when my brother died you didn't say anything. Also, your boyfriend absolutely hates me". Brown eyes rolled.

"He doesn't hate you," Taylor protested immediately, and James almost snickered because it was such a stupid thing to deny.

"He does," He insisted, and Taylor's eyes met his evenly for a long moment. "Did you even tell him that you were coming here?" Quickly, Taylor averted his eyes, and his cheeks pinked a little. It was answer enough. "Look Taylor, it was very nice of you to come and see me, but maybe you should just go. The longer I talk to you, the more irritable my father will get, and I don't want to cause you any relationship problems with you being here when he wouldn't want you to be. I understand why you're here, and the gesture is... is very nice and all, but I don't think we should push it".

There was a brief moment, in which Taylor chewed his lip, that James though he would refuse, but then the boy was slowly rising and rubbing his hands on the front of his shorts. "You know, I can't believe you're really going".

"Neither can I," James admitted softly, and Taylor turned towards the window, looking past it into the beautiful day outside. It was an awkward silence that fell between then as James waited for Taylor's next words, and he tried to recall a time when it wasn't like this, when then had been comfortable around one another in perfect silence. He knew times like that had existed, at one point in their past, but it was something he couldn't imagine– at least, not in that moment.

"I heard about it from Jillian a couple weeks ago, at Ross's party, but she was drunk and she didn't really know a lot. Illinois, right?" James supplied him with a short nod as answer, and Taylor hummed thoughtfully and narrowed his eyes. "Ty's in Illinois, isn't he?"

James's blinked in surprise, and then narrowed his eyes, fully expecting some sort of witty comment to follow. During their relationship, Tyler had always been a big issue for them. With his best friend many hours away, James's spent a lot of his time on his phone, texting or talking to him, which was very distressing to Taylor, who thought all attention should be on himself. "He is". He waited for Taylor to say something in return, but the boy only looked at him expectantly. After a moment of this tension, James averted his eyes, instead looking at the polished hardwood flooring between his feet. "His father got my dad a job where he works, and the employer owns a private school there that we get free tuition to, so we'll be going to the same school again".

This was another selling point his mother had used to persuade the move to him, back when his parents were still considering it, though it wasn't ever much of a debate. Free schooling at a well known private school on the outskirts of Chicago. All James had needed to do to get in was pass the entrance exam, and he had done so with an ease that surprised his parents. Between him and his brother, Ace had been the smart one, but James was still far from an average student.

"Ah," Taylor vocalized, a tight smile pulling uncomfortably at his lips. James wondered what he was thinking, but figured it was something that would piss him off, so he didn't ask. "Well... Tell him I said hello, alright?"

James wasn't about to do that, because Ty hated Taylor even more than Taylor hated him, and he was sure it was something Taylor was saying to be nice, not because he actually meant it. Still, he nodded his head and offered a short, "sure". Once again, he expected Taylor's immediate departure, but still the boy hesitated. "Is there something else you need?"

"No," the other boy said quickly, taking a big step backwards, further into the room, distancing himself from the front door. There was a pained look on Taylor's face, as if what he had to say physically hurt him, and James's eyebrows raised slightly. "James... fuck, I guess I just want to say that I'm sorry... for everything". Even though he wasn't making in clear what he was apologizing for– he could have been apologizing for the loss of his brother, which people commonly did the first time they spoke to him after Ace's death– James found it easy enough to deduce.

Sorry for sneaking into his room, all of those nights ago, after James had told him he wasn't in the mood. Sorry for avoiding him like the plague for the last year, effectively ending their relationship without a word.

The apology was surprising for two reasons, the first being the fact that Taylor never apologized for anything, and the second being that James wasn't really upset about any of those things anymore, and felt the time for a warranted apology had long since passed. At one point, he had been, but he had grown up a lot since then, the death of his brother aging him a dozen years. His past relationship with Taylor, and all their problems, seemed so childish now that he was looking back at it.

"Have a good time in Illinois. I know you'll probably never take me up on this offer, but if you ever want to talk, you have my number," Taylor reminded, and James eyebrows raised slightly because what on earth would he want to talk to Taylor about?

Still, for the other boys sake, he gave a little smile and said, "sure," once more.

Taylor finally left then, after he did this awkward half smile half grimace thing with his mouth, and James went to the staircase to call his parents down. He figured they were getting bored up there, given the fact the house had been completely emptied over the last couple of hours, and he knew his mother wanted to get on the road as soon as possible. It was going to be a long ride, one they planned to do through the night, and the sooner they started, the sooner they'd be meeting the moving trucks at their new place in Illinois.

His father came down the stairs first, eyes immediately moving over to where Taylor had been sitting minutes before. "What'd he have to say?" He asked, making James's mother sigh loudly when she joined them a moment later. Between his two parents, his mother was far more willing to grant him privacy than his father was.

"Frank," she scolded softly, and his father's eyes widened comically. Suddenly, it was hard to imagine him being the same man that had terrified James's ex-boyfriend. "That's James's business. He doesn't have to share".

"It's alright," James cut in, before his father could apologize to him– whenever his father said something his wife found worth scolding, he always apologised immediately after. He had begun to be far more careful around James after the period of awkwardness that commenced after his youngest son was forced to come out of the closet. "He just wanted to say sorry for how everything played out while he still had the chance".

"Taylor wanted to say sorry?" His mother asked, perfectly shaped eyebrows raising high. It made James's crack another real smile– those were getting more frequent. Three months ago, two in the same day was unlikely, much less two in the same hour. "I've known that boy since he was in first grade, and I don't think I have ever heard the word sorry leave his mouth before".

Prior to dating the beginning of their Sophomore year, James and Taylor had been friends for a long time. They were never really close, especially since him and Tyler often butted heads, but they were close enough to have spent countless hours and one anothers houses over the years, and had gotten well acquainted with one another's parents. James's parents of course didn't ever care much for the other boy, but they had still allowed him to come over whenever James asked, simply happy that their son (of few friends) had someone he wanted to spend time with other than his older brother and Tyler.

"I think he was only willing to apologize since he knew I was moving and would never be able to tell anyone that the proud Taylor Johnson actually acknowledged the fact that he had done wrong at one point in his lifetime," James responded, making his father huff in something like amusement. "Find anything we missed while you were upstairs?"

The look on his mother's face morphed into something a little more sad, but it was also thoughtful. Without saying anything, she held out her hand towards him, a familiar New York City keychain resting on her palm. Ace had gotten it during his class trip his Junior year of highschool, and had carried it on his key chain until his car had been sold for money to pay off hospital bills, though he was too sick to drive at that point anyways. James wondered where she found it, since he was sure Ace had passed his entire keychain collection down to his close friends. "Pick it up," his mother offered when he still hadn't taken it from her.

James obeyed, turning it over and over again in his hand. "We should stop at Edward's on the way out of town and give this to him. Ace would want one of his friends to have it". His brother had passed many things down to him and his parents, but the key chains weren't one of those things. He had been very admit that the keychains and other smaller things important to him got passed down to his friends, since he knew his family would keep the bigger, more significant things he had owned. It wasn't meant for James, and he wanted to honor his brother's wishes.

"It's not for Edward," His father claimed, looping his arm around his wife's waist. James's mouth opened to protest, because he was positive that it wasn't for him, but his father smiled a little, already knowing what he was going to say. "It's not for you either". Confusion hit then, but it didn't end up lasting long as his mother pulled a folded slip of paper out of her back pocket. She didn't hand it to him, only unfolded it and held it up so he could look at it.

Immediately, James could see it was a shipping label, filled out with his brother's recognizable handwriting, for a package that never got sent. The name on it was one James's had written many times himself, and the address was one of the few he had memorized.

At the ebbing pain in his chest, James dug his teeth into his lower lip, and he closed his hand tightly around the key chain as he made a silent promise to himself to not lose it. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, his mother, and he raised his head to meet her eyes. They were glistening with tears, and he feared he had the same problem. "There was this as well". She pressed an envelope against James's palm. One of Ace's letters. He had written them for most of the people in his life before he passed. If the letter was anything like the one James had received, the inside contents were personal, so he didn't dare read the words, only close his fist lightly around the paper. "Hold on to it, will you? Until the time is right."

***

James drove the first shift, from their town in Northern Florida, all the way to Atlanta, Georgia. It was a five hour drive, factoring in construction and the typical end of the day rush, but it felt far longer with his father in the back of the car, situated in the middle of the two front seats so he could lean forward between them and backseat drive without realizing. Usually his mother would softly inform her husband of what he was doing, but she had fallen asleep within the first twenty minutes of the drive, preparing to drive next, through the early morning.

When the time came to switch drivers, James almost didn't want to wake her and drive all the way through the morning himself, but he was so exhausted from the day of moving, and from listening to his father direct him from the back, that even his dad could tell he was on the verge of falling asleep at the wheel. With a hand on his son's shoulder, and a comforting squeeze, his father said, "come back here and get some sleep," before climbing out of the car. To James's surprise, his father didn't wake his mother, only waited patiently for James to climb out of the driver seat before taking the seat for himself. "I'm not tired yet, and she should get more sleep. I don't mind driving the hard part".

With a nod, and a rub at his tired eyes, James slipped into the back seat, laying across it on his side and then strapping one of the seatbelts around his waist for good measure. "Please don't get in an accident," James instructed before finally allowing his eyes to close.

They didn't open for a few hours, and when they did it was only for a brief minute as his mother slipped into the driver's seat and shut the door just hard enough to shake him from his sleep. The plan had been his parents would switch somewhere near the border between Indiana and Kentucky, so James made the vague assumption they had five hours left to go before falling back asleep, lulled by the sound of his parents quietly chatting, and eventually, his mother humming to herself.

The next time he woke up, it was light out, and the sun had him shutting his eyes directly after he had opened them, groaning as he threw an arm over his face. As he lay there, slowly waking up, he became aware of his body, and all the aches he had gained from curling his long legs up onto the small seat to sleep. He wondered how long that would hurt. Hopefully the knots would be gone by the time he started school in a week and had to endure sitting in an uncomfortable hard desk seat for hours on end.

"How long until we get there?" he inquired as he lifted himself into a seated position, eyes still squinted as they adjusted to the sun and to being awake. Patiently, he waited the proper amount of time for whoever was driving to check the GPS for the remaining time, but it came and went, so he pried his eyes open with no answer to his question.

The driver seat was empty, which panicked him for only half a second before he processed that the car was no longer moving. In the passenger seat, his father was still sleeping, snoring lightly with his chair slightly reclined. James could wake the man and ask where his mother was, but he suspected his father would be just as clueless as him.

Leaning forward, James peered out of the windshield and found himself staring up at a house that looked far bigger than it had in all of the pictures his mother had shown him. For a brief moment, he wondered if his parents had possibly put the wrong address into the GPS on accident, but when he turned in his seat to peer out the rear window, he saw the two moving trucks parked on the street. The moving crew was already unloading one of the vehicles, and James wondered exactly how long his mother was gonna let him and his father sleep before waking them and asking for help.

James opened his car door and climbed out, groaning as his body stretched for the first time in hours, drawing attention to the damage the seat had done to the muscles in his back. He tried his best to rub at them with one hand as he made his way up the front walkway, his eyes on the elaborate garden that framed the front porch, filled with flowers he didn't know the name of. When him and his brother were children, gardening was something his mother had pursued, but she had stopped at some point during his childhood, when she got old enough that the summer days seemed far too hot to withstand. James hoped it was something she'd be able to resume when spring came around, and maintain through the summer in the slightly more mild climate.

As he stepped up onto the front porch, the front door was pushed open by two of the the moving men, on their way back to the truck to gather more boxes. They were wearing ugly company shirts– mustard yellow– with the sleeves ripped off, and both of them were covered in a sheen layer of sweat that James might have appreciated if he wasn't so exhausted. All he could manage in his current state was a quick glance at one of the men's biceps as he held the door open just long enough for James to be able to slip inside.

While he had found the front of the house to be more luxurious than he was expecting, the inside was even more so. It was all dark wood– on the floor, on the railing, on the overlooking first floor balcony bannister– and modern furniture, high ceilings and open space. There were large windows at the front of the living room, filtering in a large amount of natural light, enough that the elaborate light piece that hung from the ceiling was still off as boxes were moved into the room. It was really beautiful, and James only became more impressed as he moved through the house in search of his mother, peeking into the dining room and kitchen before moving down the first floor hallway.

He found her alone, in what he assumed would be her new bedroom. She was standing towards the back of the room, next to an open door that revealed an attached bathroom. The look on her face was one of delight. "Will it be weird having a room on the first floor?" James inquired, gathering her attention. She smiled at the sight of him, eyes light but still happy.

"It'll be weird having our own bathroom," she claimed, glancing over her shoulder at it for half a second. "This house is amazing. We're so lucky your father got hired by Mr. Bradford". James hummed in agreement, nodding his head just incase she was too far from him to hear the soft sound.

"Why didn't you wake dad and I for help moving? It'll go faster with someone to help the moving guys," James pointed out, and his mother's smile morphed into something softer.

"They have help," she claimed, and James wanted to point out that she wasn't really being much help to them by exploring. Before he could mention this, she laughed and said, "You mean you didn't see them?"

"See who?" James inquired, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. Another laugh came from her, just as soft as the last one, and James's mouth twitched into a small smile at the honor of getting to hear that sound twice in such short of time. It reminded him of his childhood, of him and his brother chasing one another through the backyard as she sat in her lawn chair reading and laughing at them.

"The Amores". This made James perk up. "They were here when we pulled up. Said they wanted to help us unpack and then take us out to lunch to celebrate our successful move".

"Tyler, too?" He asked hopefully. His mother nodded, but the voice that responded to him was not hers– though it was equally familiar to him. He had grown up with that voice, even if it was octaves deeper now. It had spoken to him many a night through the phone, had consulted him when his brother had died.

"Yeah," Tyler confirmed, from somewhere behind him, and James turned quickly. The first glance of his best friend in months had James's breath catching in his throat, because for the first time in months, he was in the presence of someone who really understood him. "What, are you just gonna stare at me forever, or are you gonna like, hug me or some shit? I know I'm good looking and all–" James's hugged him then, tightly, and Tyler laughed loudly before returning the gesture. "Hey man, how've you been?" It was a stupid question, because they had talked on the phone the morning before, and not much had changed since, so he didn't bother to answer.

"Why are you here right now? You're not actually helping us move in, are you?" James teased, pulling back from the hug and taking a quick step away from his friend, aware that his mother was watching them. James was sure she knew that Tyler was like a brother to James, that nothing romantic would ever happen between them, but he also didn't want to make her suspicious and give her reason to restrict James and Tyler for spending any time alone together.

"Why are to so surprised?" Tyler inquired, eyebrows raising as he leaned back against the wall and forced his hands into his jean pockets.

"Because you don't do anything but nap all day," James reminded, which was completely true. More often than not, when James called Tyler, no matter the time of day, his friend told him he was in his bedroom attempting to take a nap. It had happened so many times that James had actually expressed concern over this, inquiring if there was some sort of medical reason as to why Tyler felt the need to sleep all the time, but his friend had simply dismissed him with a simple, "maybe I'm just bored".

"Hey, I only nap all day because I didn't have anyone I cared enough about to not nap for," Tyler defiended, and James's eyebrows raised.

"Huh?"

"You'll understand once you start going to that school". There was a serious look on his friends face that had James recalling one of their past conversations. With a heavy sigh, he averted his eyes.

It had first come up right after Tyler had learned that James had passed his entrance exam and would be attending school with him. Edgewood Academy's entrance exam was said to be extremely difficult to pass, and even after studying for the month prior, a large part of James had been prepared to fail the exam. Learning he had passed meant that at least one good thing was certain to come out of the move– he'd be able to attend the same school as his best friend for the first time in years. When James had called him with the news, it was the first time he felt excited for the move to Illinois.

His conversation with Tyler managed to effectively turn that emotion into anxiety and stress. It wasn't something his friend was trying to do. He'd just been looking out for James and warning him ahead of time, and for that James was thankful, but what Tyler had to ask of him in order to ensure his safety in the school was far from comforting.

"Please James, whatever you do, don't tell anyone you're gay". There was a sincerity to Tyler's voice as he asked this that alarmed James. He sounded worried. "You trust me, right?"

James did trust Tyler– of course he did, they were best friends– but he didn't want to have to agree to this. After the incident with Taylor, there seemed to be no reason to hide who he was anymore. The only reason his class mates hadn't known already was because he didn't want the news getting back to his parents somehow. It hadn't taken him long to realize that everything was easier when he was out. So much stress had been lifted off him when he could just be himself. Going back into the closet had never been part of the plan.

When he asked Tyler why his friend though this was necessary, there had been a pause on the other end of the phone, and then a hesitant sounding, "well," followed by more silence. James had waited patiently for his answer. "The school doesn't exactly have the nicest people, James. They give people trouble sometimes, people who are different. I've known of a few gay people who went to Edgewood, but they don't go there anymore, because they are made to feel... unwelcome".

It seemed to be best just to take Tyler's word for it, even if it would be difficult. James had not needed to pretend to be straight for long enough that he feared he had forgotten how.

"Also," Tyler began, cutting into his thoughts. James's eyes refocused on his friend, and he was surprised to find the other boy grinning. Clearly, he did not understand the depth of James's dilemma. "I was told that if I came to help, I'd be given food as a reward, and that was something I simply could not say no to".

A/N Since this is my first story outside of Florida (except for TTTTU but that's shit) I thought it would be fun for James to literally move from Florida. Also, this book is supposed to be the first in a trilogy sort of thing (not all books are about the exact same people but it is about the same group of people). This is of course if I don't get derailed like I usually do.