Davyn wasn't sure why, but he felt more at peace than he had in months. Even if leaving Millie behind instantly made him feel much colder, the general feeling overwhelming him was a positive one. He couldn't remember the last time that had happened.

Yes, he was still exhausted, maybe more so than ever, but he'd had a fun, non-bitter human interaction. Millie really did want to hang out with him, and she was pretty fun to talk to after all. She wasn't an idiot, even if she'd chosen a more artistic path rather than an intellectual one.

The early morning wind bit into his skin so he rubbed his arms as he headed for the car. In front of the dorms, the receptionist had a screwdriver out and was trying to fix the broken lock. He saw Davyn and raised the screwdriver in warning.

"I know, I know," Davyn mumbled. "I'll pay for the damage." He gave the guy a thumbs up, since he hadn't spoken loud enough for him to hear, to indicate that he hadn't forgotten their understanding.

No official complaint, and in return Davyn would take care of fixing the door and treat the guy to a rich dinner. He'd gotten off easily for his crazy break in.

On his way home, his conversation with Millie kept playing inside his head, not because it had been particularly meaningful, but because it had been normal. A natural conversation between two people. He'd missed that. Even when his father had been alive, most of their interactions had focused on gaining something. Knowledge, skills or lessons. It was never just small talk, except maybe when they'd watched the Soccer World Cup together. That was probably why the memory was so fond.

He finally reached the house and, still contemplating his discussion with Millie, he headed upstairs to his room. The easiness vanished the moment he reached the landing and found himself in front of Ron's bedroom door.

Reality came crashing down like a powerful wave, drowning him. A meaningless conversation didn't change what he'd left behind, the reason he'd gone over the edge and imagined dead people where there were none in the first place. For a few seconds, he just stood there, finding solace in delaying the inevitable. Then, with a huge breath, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Freider was still there, on a chair next to Ron's bed, and seemed to be snoozing. He immediately jumped to attention when the door opened. For a second, he didn't seem to recognize Davyn, then he relaxed, stretched and yawned.

"Ready for school?" he asked, his voice hoarse and low.

"Yeah, I guess. How's Ron?"

Freider glanced at their little brother and put his hand on his forehead. "He seems fine, really. I monitored his pulse and breathing and he seems to be sleeping."

Like a given, Ron stirred. Davyn's entire body tensed, as if that tiny boy could pose a threat to him. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't Ron to open his eyes and glance at them sleepily.

"What are you guys doing here?" he grumbled.

Davyn clenched his fists and he had to admit he was impressed that Fredier wasn't showing any sign of wanting to hit him.

"How much do you remember?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Ron frowned and looked from him to Freider and back. Then the color drained from his face and his freckles became very visible.

"There you go, champ," Freider said, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Where did you even get that shit?" Davyn asked. Ron didn't answer and it made him want to punch something. "Are you selling it to others?"

"No, of course not," Ron said quickly. "I just... I just wanted to try it. See if it makes me feel better."

"There were a lot of them for just trying," Freider said.

Ron's eyes widened with fear, but Davyn had no sympathy for him. They were all in pain, and yet neither of them had been that stupid. "We found everything Ron, and burned them."

"What? No!"

"Why not?" Freider asked, narrowing his eyes. "What were you planning on doing with them?"

There was more silence after that. A part of Davyn was just relieved that Ron really did seem to be alright. The other part wanted to beat him into a pulp. But he knew it wasn't as easy as yelling at his little brother for his stupid behavior. It was hard though when he remembered having a lot more sense at his age. Instead, he sat down on the corner of the bed.

"Look, we know it's hard. Everything sucks right now. But you're only thirteen. You'll get through this and you have the rest of your life ahead of you."

Ron huffed. "Like you are? Staying in school forever? What, are you hoping, to work there after graduation?"

Davyn's fist twitched, but he forced himself to calm down. "How I cope is none of your business."

"Then why is how I cope any of yours?"

"Because you're still a minor," Freider snapped. "And whether you like it or not, I'm responsible for you. Plus, whatever he does doesn't seem to be hurting him."

On the contrary, it had started making him feel better. The thought of Millie made everything more bearable for some reason.

"Now go clean yourself up," Freider said.

"You're not sending him to school, are you?" Davyn asked, the moment Ron scurried out of bed and towards the bathroom.

Fredier hesitated which made it obvious that he was about to do just that. "Maybe not today. He could use some rest, I guess. But..." There was another pause as he seemed to try and figure out what to do with the kid. "No, don't worry about it. I'll just call work and have someone bring my files over for me and I'll stay home with him. You go to school."

That was oddly sensitive, but Davyn wasn't going to complain. He most definitely didn't want to stay with Ron. He was way too close to socking him and he really didn't think that was the best approach for this particular issue. He'd much rather go to school, track Harkin down, and punch him.

"Okay, thanks. Just let him rest."

"Trust me, I only intend to feed him and leave him alone."

That was great news. So Davyn made his way to his room to change into more school-appropriate clothes. He also remembered to take his swimming trunks along. Just in case.

♣

The day seemed to last forever. As much as Davyn tried to focus on his lessons, it was damn near impossible. The lack of sleep was taking its toll and half of him wondered what Ron was doing, if he had anything else stashed in his room. The other half kept looking for Millie in the hallways, hoping for a glimpse of her before the evening. Which was stupid, really.

Why did she suddenly matter? Just because she'd made a promise to him and somehow determined him to do the same? Were they friends or some weird form of enemies? Frenemies. That didn't sound right because he no longer found her annoying. It was maybe because she no longer acted annoying around him. Or because he'd met Karen.

Either way, his classes were a blur of information combined with how the morning sun made her hair shine like gold.

He couldn't be more grateful once the final bell rung out and he could move instead of sitting in one place and hallucinating away. His entire body felt numb, so the prospect of a swim managed to cheer him up some. Then, he'd definitely go home and sleep.

Once he reached his locker and stacked his books away, an unpleasant tingle climbed up his spine. There was one more matter left unfinished which had been lingering at the back of his mind. But the hallways were empty and, for once, there was no sign of Nicholas Harkin. Davyn wanted to have a little chat with him about selling drugs to middle school kids.

Even if the witching hour had come, the bullies didn't. He glanced into his locker, wondering how much longer he could just stand there before snapping of frustration. Sudden movement to his left had him closing the metal door and glancing that way. It wasn't Harkin. It was Max Tanner.

The guy gave him half a smile and a lazy wave which was more in recognition rather than an invitation to come over. Davyn, however, abandoned his uninteresting locker and headed for him. A part of him just had questions. The other was oddly fascinated by the guy since he was Millie's brother. Even if they did share features, like the hair and eye color and the shapes of their faces, their attitudes were so different, they could've very well be strangers.

"What's up?" Max asked once Davyn reached him.

"I was wondering if you'd seen Harkin today."

"Do you miss the asshole?" He let out a laugh, but it was short and rather forced. "To be fair, I avoid him every chance I get, so I can't say I've been looking for him."

"Fair enough."

Maybe it was his belligerent tone, but Max seemed to feel that something was off. He eyed Davyn up and down and tilted his head.

"You alright there? What'd he do?"

"Let's just say he might've decided to sell to the wrong crowd."

Max let out a sigh. "This place is crawling with minors. I'd say the crowd was wrong from the get go."

"I don't care about that. You don't sell to thirteen-year-olds."

Max winced. "Yeah... A whole different can of worms there. Sorry I can't help."

Davyn waved him away, even if he felt even more agitated. "He'll show up eventually. Not like we'd be lucky enough to randomly get rid of him."

"Yeah, that's true." Max hesitated for a moment. "You'd better get some rest."

Davyn rolled his eyes, but didn't bother with an answer, instead giving him a wave and walking away. If he looked horrible enough for random people to tell him to sleep, it meant it got really bad. The last few days had been a clusterfuck and he definitely needed to disconnect. For a moment, he even considered going straight home and just plopping on his bed and pass out. Freider would leave him alone for once. But it was Ron keeping him out of the house this time.

A part of him knew they needed to have a more serious conversation and he most certainly didn't feel up for it, not when he still felt like thumping Ron for how stupid he had been. So instead, he scurried to the library to get some homework done before going to the swimming pool. Good thing he'd asked to meet Millie at nine which was early enough for him to leave soon.

After struggling with some equations and a bit of anatomy, he decided to just give up. It didn't matter if he got there earlier. He needed a swim to relax his muscles.

It was lucky that he had the keys to the gym. It meant that he could stride through it, into the changing rooms, past the showers and into the covered swimming pool. It was a bit of a wonder that he'd never thought to use it before, focused as he'd been on stringing himself up rather than relaxing. He changed into black swimming trunks and turned on the light.

The pool looked even creepier than the gym, the tiles on the floor cold and the white walls unpleasantly reminding him of the hospital morgue. For a second, he was tempted to turn off the light and get the hell out of there, but he was cold and mostly naked anyway and he'd have to start facing things again, no matter how sick they made him feel. It had almost been two months and it wasn't like his father would come back from the grave.

Doing his best to focus on something else, he dropped his towel on the nearest bench and headed for the shallow end of the pool. There, he climbed on the stand and jumped in, his joined hands piercing the water first.

It was cold, as he knew it would, the temperature fit for sports rather than lounging around. His entire body screamed in protest, but he stayed underwater, kicking his feet and making large strokes with his arms to propel himself forward faster. He came out for air once, as he'd cleared two thirds of the pool, then twisted as he reached the end, pushed his feet against the wall and sailed in the other direction, in a backstroke.

By the time he reached the shallow end again, he was no longer cold, but energized. Panting a little, he pushed himself off the edge for another go, this time doing a front crawl one way and the butterfly the other. He wished he had a timer to see how fast he was going.

"Wow."

He shook his wet hair and turned towards the door. Millie had showed up and stood a foot from the edge of the pool. She was wrapped in a white towel, her eyes wide and a little scared. The towel wasn't very long, so it just covered her shoulders and most of her body, leaving a pair of shapely legs for show.

Davyn blinked, trying to compute how those legs could belong to the annoying girl in overalls.

"You came."

And it was so obvious so he wasn't even sure why he was saying it. It did make her step closer, her bare feet sliding ever so slightly on the tiles, her knees shaking the tiniest bit. And he couldn't look away. This couldn't be her. Even her hair was caught up in a high ponytail now and actually looked good.

"That looked very impressive."

It was definitely her voice. He was too familiar with the fear and the meekness of it. But it didn't fit with the rest of her.

"You could do that, too." His voice seemed to be coming from very far away.

Millie stopped at the edge of the pool, her fingers digging into the towel, pulling it tighter around her as she stared at the water.

"It's not lava, you know," he said. "It's actually quite cold."

"I don't know about this," she mumbled. "I can't remember the last time I was actually in water."

"You obviously have a swimsuit your size so it can't have been that long."

She glanced inside her towel and, with a heavy sigh, undraped it from around her body and let it drop by her side.

Davyn was grateful that there was nothing in his mouth because he surely would've spit it out. That could not be what was hiding behind the paint-splattered overalls and those horrid, bulky sweaters.

"I actually borrowed it from Diana, one of my roommates," she explained.

He didn't care. It was highly inappropriate anyway. A white bikini held together by measly strings. It barely did its job of covering her up and he was suddenly glad they were alone. He could handle it, the shock of her toned stomach, slender arms and generous breasts. The idea that she could be so damn hot under those horrible clothes. Why was she wearing them anyway? Why not something more formfitting, or more flattering?

Like in a haze, he remembered her claiming her goals were a lot more important than her. Yes, her body didn't speak of her goals, but it was a form of art in itself. And it was a wonder she hadn't called him out on staring yet. But as he finally raised his eyes to look at her face, he realized she wasn't looking at his either. Her gaze was lost somewhere between his chest and his navel.

"What?" he asked.

She flinched and raised her eyes. "You can't look like that."

"Um, what?"

She waved her hand to indicate his body. "That's not how teenagers look. TV lies, those people are in their late twenties."

"Oh." He didn't find it odd. He'd seen a lot of his peers looking just like that, even buffer sometimes, depending on the sport they played. "Everyone on the swim team does."

"Are you on the swim team?"

"No, I'm on the basketball team, but I do train a lot and I'm a very good swimmer."

She seemed to relax a little and lowered her arms from around herself. "You can float. That's impressive enough for me."

"It's not a big deal. You can float, too. I'll show you. Come on!" Because he sure as hell didn't want to keep having to look up at her.

She hesitated, biting her lower lip. "I don't know."

"Look, you're already naked. Might as well get in."

Her cheeks caught a pink tinge and she hugged herself again. "I'm not naked," she squeaked.

She'd probably look less enticing naked. He shook his head, trying to drive the image back, but it was so easy to picture.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," he mumbled. "Now get in the water before you freeze out there."

Maybe it was his no-nonsense tone which convinced her to step forward and stick the tip of her toe into the water. As expected, she pulled back, shivering.

"Are you kidding? This water is freezing!"

"It's not a kiddie pool, of course it's cold, but you'll get used to it."

"No, I've changed my mind. I'm going back inside."

He was momentarily distracted by the goosebumps climbing up her skin, from her toes to her hips. "Are you giving up so easily?"

She faltered. "Don't try to challange me. It won't work."

Yes, it would. And he'd known that from the start. She lived to spite him. So he reached out his arms as if inviting her in. "Are you telling me you're scared?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"I thought you wanted to learn new things."

"No, you wanted me to learn new things."

"Then do it as a favor for me. I need to feel better about myself and teaching you something useful will do that. Didn't you promise to help?"

Predictably enough, this approach worked. She took anther step forward, dropping her arms, nibbling on her lower lip. So different from the boring school girl, so much more to her. The water really did seam warmer.

"Can't you teach me basketball or something?" she asked, still staring at the water as if it were about to swallow her whole. Which was fairly accurate.

"A basketball won't kill you. Drowning might."

"And you're all about saving my life all of a sudden." Even if her voice was filled with sarcasm, her fearful eyes stayed on the water.

"Yes," he whispered. "You know I won't let anything bad happen to you."

This seemed to have convinced her, because her hesitant expression turned to one of determination and she clenched her fists. Then, she headed for the ladder and forced herself into the water, even if her entire body was shaking.

"There you go!"

"Now what?" Her teeth clattered together with the question.

"Now you come to me." He stepped over and took her hand.

"No, wait!"

But he didn't give her a chance to change her mind, pulling her off the ladder. She let out a scream before she practically, molded against him. The heat of her body took him off guard. The way in which her fingers dug into his skin, the way her legs wrapped around his waist as if they'd done it so many times. Even if it was obviously out of fear, it didn't feel that way to him. He had to focus with everything he had not to place his hands on her thighs.

Get your mind out of the gutter! You're doing something here.

"Nothing's gonna happen," he offered. "The pool is shallow."

Her terrified eyes looked away from the killer water and focused on him. "It's not. It reaches your neck. I'm much shorter than that."

"I'm standing."

"Of course you are! I just said you were taller!" Her voice was slightly hysteric and it was just a little bit funny. "This was such a bad idea," she whimpered. "Help me get out."

As if. "Why not learn as long as you're in?"

"Learn what?"

Her panic was endearing. It made her seem less cold, more real than she'd ever felt before, even drunk and stoned. But water was such an innocent thing, something that didn't even compare to the darkness she'd been contemplating.

"So you do have things you're afraid of," he said with a smile.

She eyed him up and down, as if she couldn't understand why they were back playing this game. But it was the only thing that let him focus on something other than her body wrapped around his. It felt as good as it looked, maybe even better. The water seemed to be boiling around them.

"Don't you?" she finally asked, as if sensing the danger of going back to their newfound companionship.

He did, many. And she knew at least some of them. It was most likely the realization that she did know that had her grip loosening and she stared him straight in the eyes. There was something there, that determination bordering on insanity that had pushed her into his corner. The one that had him breaking her door down and five in the morning.

They'd started a game, a powerplay, but somewhere along the way, it had become more than that. He'd wondered if they were friends, but they obviously weren't. It was odd. It felt different. She was no longer the ice queen. She was no longer boring. She was a blazing inferno.

The way she looked at him, her eyes twinkling, her mouth slightly parted, it made everything else in the world disappear. He couldn't remember being the sole focus someone else like this. It reminded him... With a giant knot in his chest, he had to admit it reminded him of how his mother glanced at his father. It was enough to push him over the edge.

"Millie," he whispered.

It was all it took. Her lips landed over his and he fell into it like a fool. His hands grasped her thighs, enjoying the feel of her skin. It didn't matter that they barely knew each other, that they didn't even like each other, that he hadn't even considered her attractive until he saw her almost naked.

All that mattered was that he was there, and he could taste her lips. The sense of abandonment he felt from her made him want to hold her tighter, kiss her deeper.

She was much more than he'd ever thoughts. And her kisses were like fire.

End of Part I

♣️♣️♣️

And here we have it, folks. The end of Part I of the story. Things have veered off track and lines were crossed. But hey, maybe Davyn deserved a little happiness in his life.

Even if bad things are still left unfinished this is his chance to catch a break. So stick around for some blossoming romance!

Don't forget to vote and comment for support and thanks so much for following along!