"Why should we? Most of the shows we watch are in black and white anyway," Mr. Young said from his chair in the corner. By now the smoke was pouring upwards in vast amounts, curling at the ceiling where it spread to other parts of the house. Which made Mrs. Young very nervous. "We get a new tv, next you'll want a new car, then a new kitchen, then a new husband. If I'm unlucky enough." His wife came up next to him and kissed his cheek.

"Don't be silly. I just think it'd be a nice change to have a color set, like the Marks have down the road." The television coughed up a cloud of black smoke. "And one that doesn't smoke more than my father."

"I will not be the man who bases his decisions on what his neighbors are doing. Look, we'll get a ceiling fan. One that blows away all the smoke and keeps us cool in summer. How 'bout that? And we won't need our neighbors' permission to get one!"

Mrs. Young sighed and headed back to the kitchen for dinner. Angus and Hannah sat at the table working on their homework for that night. Once in a while Angus would glance at Hannah's paper and write down her answer, but that stopped when his mother caught him. "Angus? Are you copying down what Hannah's writing?"

"No ma'am. I'm just-comparing." Hannah heard her name and looked up to see Angus' paper. His answers were the exact same as hers word for word, number for number. An aggravated sigh escaped her lips.

"Let's hope so. Hannah? Will you be staying for dinner, or should I prepare like normal?"

"Oh, it's already late! I'd better get home. We'll take this up tomorrow, okay Ang?" The boy looked up at the new nickname. Books and papers were shoved in the small school bag and the girl was already on her way to the door. Angus waved a hand to her hoping to catch a goodbye but the door was closed too soon. One quick glance at the table was enough to see she hadn't taken anything of his into her possession again, with which she could use as an excuse to return. But he hadn't needed an excuse; her informal farewell was sufficient.

Mrs. Young steadied a pot under a running faucet used to cook her vegetables. She gave her son a smile as he sighed and continued to look through his textbook. "How's the tutoring coming along?" she asked. "Learning better?"

"Where's Malcolm?" Angus asked standing up from the table. His pencil fell to the floor but he ignored it and headed to the stairs.

"He's at the field with the Morrison boys, he's been there all afternoon, and will be all evening I suspect," she answered as she set her pot down and picked up the fallen pencil. "Why?"

Angus changed his direction to the front door. "Nothin', jus' need some fresh air. I'll see you around dinner!" With that, the door once again closed.

"Hold the ball steady, Ethan!"

"This is steady!"

"Not from where I'm standin'!" Ethan Morrison sighed and picked the ball up to relocate to a more flat piece of land. Malcolm watched him and jumped a bit when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Angus. "Hey, Ang. Whatcha doin' here?"

"Hannah went home."

"I see. A little to the left, Ethan! Did Mum kick ya' out?"

"I needed fresh air. Jus' lookin' at that book gives me nerves 'n things like that." Malcolm turned away from his brother.

"I'm not so sure it's the book," he muttered. Thankfully Angus was too busy being handed Henry's sweaty shoes to hear him.

"What the hell is this?"

"Your shoes. I'm done." Malcolm turned to him.

"Done? You can't quit on us now, I've still got to make my kick." Henry shook his head and his pudgy legs carried his pudgy body off the field and down the street. His socks were covered in mud by the time he walked to the curb and a water bottle was dropped over his head. Angus still held the shoes in his hands, held at a distance as to avoid the smell of sweat and unattended foot infections. Malcolm called after Henry but to no avail. "Flake!" he shouted.

"Hey Mal, if he's gone, maybe I should head home too. You know my mum, she always makes dinner when he's around an' I don't want to wait until it's cold," Ethan said walking up to the boys with the ball. Both were covered in dirt as a result of long hours of rough sportsmanship. Angus noticed his brother wasn't nearly as dirty as the other two boys.

"Come on Eth, I need another player!"

"You have one. Bye Mal." With that, the boy left the field to follow his brother down the street where their mother was waiting. The ball was dropped at Mal's feet allowing the remaining two to play, implying to give it back as soon as possible. The older boy sighed as Angus grimaced at the shoes.

"You leaving Mal?" Angus asked.

"Might have to. Don't suppose you want to get your uniform dirty then, huh?" Angus frowned.

"Don't care about that." Malcolm chuckled.

"'T's not like you can really play soccer all that well anyway." Angus frowned deeper as a crimson washed his face.

"Gotta minute to talk then?" he called after Malcolm who began walking away. The boy turned around.

"What about?"

"Dunno."

"The dance maybe?" Malcolm smiled when Angus picked the ball up to throw it at him. "Put your shoes on Ang, I'm not talkin' without a play!"

"These? God knows where these have been, you put them on!"

"Got mine already!" Malcolm held up his foot to show him. Angus tossed the shoes behind him and steadied the ball under his foot.

"I can play with these!" With a small kick, the ball flew in Malcolm's direction, but Malcolm had to meet it halfway to kick it back. It blasted back over to Angus who ducked just in time, narrowly missing a bruise. "Watch it, Mal!"

"Pay attention, Ang! This ball's goin' through your head if you're not careful!"

Angus ran after the ball which had rolled down the field and toward a sand pit. Malcolm was running right behind him and stole the ball as he crossed in front. With another kick, it landed right in the net Angus was supposed to be guarding. Angus frowned at the smile from the other one. "I wasn't ready!"

"Damn right you weren't. You came here to talk didn't ya'?" Angus sighed and kicked his shoe to the grass. "Well, get talkin'."

"I've been thinkin' about the plan, Mal. My plan to-you know, win Susan?" Malcolm nodded.

"And?"

Angus considered his options. He could admit to Malcolm what he had been feeling over the week so far and get the teasing over with, as he figured Malcolm had figured everything out already. Or he could lie and state that he had been nervous to talk to Susan the whole time, and that he needed help to win her affections. Each direction was not appealing to him and neither was the bump on the side of his head.

"Told ya' to pay attention! What about the plan? Chicken?"

"No, I'm not chicken!" The ball was taken from the older boy's hands. "'M just nervous is all."

"Who about?" Angus blanched then reddened.

"Susan. I mean-who else?" Malcolm rolled his eyes. "She's a goddess, Mal. How do you react to a woman like that?"

"You don't! Try sticking with the girl you asked to go with you!" The boys spent the minutes kicking the ball back and forth to each other, Angus never quite kicking it as far as he had hoped. Malcolm always added an extra step of momentum causing Angus to miss the catch and have to chase after it.

"You know I love Susan, Mal. Have you seen her?"

"Unfortunately. So, you're asking for advice then?" Angus figured his advice would be general, and that he could apply it to someone other than Susan. If things didn't work out of course. Perhaps his teacher, if he could pull it off. Malcolm snapped his fingers to wipe the silly smile on his brother's face. "I wouldn't know what to say, Ang. I don't know Susan all real well, especially since she's not in my year, and I'm not in school."

"It doesn't have to be specific Mal, jus' tell me any old thing about girls. What they like an' stuff, you know." Malcolm kicked the ball at Angus' feet who propped one atop it and held it there, forcing the older boy to answer. He began with a sigh.

"Ang, I don't know how to tell you this, but all girls are different. There ain't one way for you to act an' all will work out, there's different things to say, an' moves to make an' all that. You have to get real specific you know." Angus didn't let go of the ball.

"Fuck, that doesn't help."

"Got one in mind, Ang? One I know more about?" The younger boy sighed and rubbed his wrist.

"Not one that I don't know myself," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothin'."

"In that case, kick the ball, would ya'?" Angus removed his foot ready to kick when he jumped over it and kicked it behind him. "Hey!" Malcolm called as Angus ran down the street, dribbling the ball through obstacles. His feet weren't as skilled as his brother's, and the ball would veer left when he meant right and he would trip in result, but he never stopped. He ran down the sidewalk, his brother running a good distance behind.

Street by street, past every shop and shoe along the road and up the drive to their home. Angus' stunt had gained him some attention, and even a couple kids cheered. Of course today was the day when Susan was nowhere in sight for him to impress. A few girls swooned as he passed, of course he might have just knocked them down in his hurry. Malcolm seemed to be catching up about a block from their house but a couple taking a walk caused him to veer out of their way and increase the distance. Angus had only so many times when he could glance behind him to check his brother's status, like when he knew the ball was rolling straight a ways in front of him.

Their house came into view, and with it a sense of indecisiveness. Their little game of keep away couldn't be played in the house, but even in the yard it would have to stop short due to the time of day; it was almost dinner. Not to mention that the ball in their possession wasn't theirs. Angus slowed his pace as he neared the house, allowing Malcolm to gain access to the ball. It was swiftly taken into his feet and kicked away toward the street again, then fired back at Angus who, in turn, kicked it right at the living room window which broke into a thousand pieces according to him, past his father on his chair, and right into the television screen.

Smoke coughed out from the box in harsh plumes and the screen produced nothing but static. The picture or lack of it blackened, and the item of entertainment was no more. Mrs. Young was horrified when she came to see the commotion and Mr. Young was disappointed in his show being ended early. As the woman was confessing her distaste for the hole in her window, the man saw his two sons standing outside.

Malcolm gave Angus a look that said he was gonna get it. Angus swallowed a nervous wad, and waved at his parents. His mother went to finish dinner after promising a good and proper punishment while his father walked over to his tv. "Honey?" he called. "You'd better order another tv afterall."