[i have finals tomorrow and Friday and then I'm done aaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA]

I'd made the brilliant decision to sneak out.

After the shit I'd pulled earlier for Dallon's sake, I had to detox and cut loose for the first time in a long while. I'd called Pete and set up a time to clamber out of a window and with a bunch of kids I didn't even know that didn't know me. Aka, the recipe for a fantastic night.

Pete had doubted me at first — he'd bet me I couldn't successfully ditch on a school night, especially when the dragon sleeping in the same room as I was went to sleep so early. So not only was my decision a big screw you to Dallon, but to Pete too. Like everything was.

First, I'd taken note that they didn't have an alarm system. It wouldn't have been a big deal if they did own one, because I would've hacked it anyways, but it just made the beginning stage so much easier.

Second, I faked sleeping while Dallon was chilling in bed finishing up some homework like usual. Instead of falling asleep, I snored and picked dirt out from under my fingernails with a paper clip while I waited for him to dim the lights and roll over.

Third — well, that was really it. I had a nice and simple two step plan to a fun night, as long as I returned at a decent time and made sure only important people knew what I'd done. One of them was Dallon, so I purposely screwed with the position of the blankets and left the window cracked and curtains billowing in the breeze. And I'd worn my uniform shirt too, so if anyone caught a good look at me, they'd go right to Cardine and my reputation would still be intact.

The other person I desperately wanted to know I was not falling into place was Bear. But he was probably going to find out no matter what, so that didn't matter.

Pete was ecstatic when I climbed into the back of his car, squished to the door beside two other people I didn't recognize and didn't care to. He lurched to the street with the gas to the floor and swerved through the neighborhood trying to find a way out while he spoke. "It's gonna be fuckin' awesome tonight! We've gotta pick up one other person and then we'll be on our way."

I didn't know where he was headed or who else was going to squeeze in the backseat; frankly, I didn't give a shit. I'd been restricted from my usual behavior so much, I was up for whatever with whoever. Hell, I'd probably jump off a bridge if everyone wanted to do it.

"Hell yeah!" I hollered over the roar of the engine, and Pete rolled down the back window for me so I could stick my torso out and taste the sweet, sweet, freedom for the night, "Brendon is back!"

🖍🖍🖍

It was about four in the morning when Pete dropped me off back at Dallon's house. His lamp wasn't still glowing in the window, and there weren't any signs of movement from what I could see.

I wasn't going to go in through the front door or the door in the garage, because both of those entrances were very loud and squeaky, in immediate need of care and oiling. So those were out of the question all together.

The second option was scaling the side of his house, which was where I was trapped when Dallon stuck his head out of the window and watched me struggle for a moment. I was wrong about him being asleep, but I honestly couldn't care less. Good, that he knew. I wasn't going to do everything he wanted me to like a perfect angel child.

"Do you need any help?"

I needed a lot of help. My mom used to say I needed professional help. "Nah." My fingers were sweaty and slipping on the wall and my sneakers were slowly losing grip on the palm tree planted in the ground. My vision was blurry too. He looked like a disappointed blob. "I'm good. I'm doing fantastic tonight."

His fingers grabbed my wrist and he pulled me through the window and on to his rug, half my body falling on my air mattress. He didn't even try to push me on to the blankets. He just laid down next to me, still holding on to my wrist, just with less of a death grip.

"You frustrate me sometimes, you know that?"

I nodded before realizing he hadn't bothered to spare a glance at me. "Yeah. It's purposeful, if it makes you feel better whatsoever."

It didn't seem to make him feel better. He just sighed deeply and rolled over to stare down at me, hand propping up his face and squishing his cheek. "No, not really. That almost makes me feel worse."

"Well, I'm sorry. That's not my problem."

"I wish you considered it as one." He drew in a deep breath and before I knew it, we were holding hands again. "Believe it or not, I think I actually care about you a little bit."

The only people that really gave a shit were my parents, Pete, and maybe a few relatives. My aunt loved me. She'd always send twenty bucks for my birthday when my mom told her ten was good enough. Other than that, I could probably up and leave without a trace and never be missed. "I don't believe you."

He sat up and squinted at me for a second like he didn't process the words that'd left my my mouth. I didn't completely understand what I was saying either. In fact, I couldn't really process anything. How warm was Dallon? Very. Very warm. He gave very warm hugs.

After a few minutes of staying sprawled across the floor in a one-sided hug, Dallon let go. Tugging at the sleeves of his shirt, he gave in to my want of more hugs and warmth and lowered himself back down next to me and slung his arm over my chest to my shoulder. "Do you get hugs very often?"

"No. Pete's not a hugging type of person, my parents are usually mad at me, and there's not really anybody else to hug me at that point. I mean, once a teacher had to do it to stop me from ripping some kid's head off at Lame Oak, but that's about it if I'm gonna be honest."

"That's sad," he sighed, because yeah, it kinda was, "I like hugs. They cheer people up."

I guess he was cheering me up. I hadn't really thought about it until then. "I don't generally like hugs—" his grip loosened for a moment, "—but I-I like yours."

I felt his smile against my uniform shirt, burning like fire until he fell asleep and the grin faded to a tired pout. He only grew warmer from there.

I'd told him I like his hugs. What was I, eight years old? I used to say that to my mom when I was three. It was such a childish thing to say, and I'd said it. What if I started slipping into his habits like it was obligatory? I still had to pull off pranks and keep sneaking out with Pete and whoever else was in the car the whole night.

But I could also lever the situation to my advantage. Maybe, just maybe, he'd start to take after my habits and shit that I pulled. Maybe he'd follow in my footsteps instead of vice versa.

It was really a simple step situation when I got the chance to boil it down as the sun rose over the mountains on the horizon. All I had to do was get him to follow me anywhere and everywhere, and the easiest way to do that was to convince him to fall for me, and either do the same, or fake it until I didn't need him anymore.

Perfect.