[i hope ur holidays were good. Mine were alright I didn't have a birthday ham on my birthday but. That's for the 30th.]

From: Pete
Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude

It was three in the morning. Dallon was cuddled up against my back on my air mattress because he couldn't sleep for once. I wasn't in the best mood for his opinions on how pointless celebrity gossip was, or a deep insightful late night discussion about life and whatever popped into his head at the moment, so I'd patted the empty spot next to me and tossed him some blanket. After that, he fell asleep pretty quick.

To: Pete
Not a good time. If I don't respond quick, I'm not ignoring you. Someone's like right next to me.

From: Pete
Oohoo get some

From: Pete
But like anyways, it's been weeks buddy. Where is my show stopping arrest worthy prank? ???

From: Pete
Don't tell me you chickened out lmaoooo

Dallon shifted on the bed and hugged me a little tighter, boa constrictor style. A few more movements, and I'd suffocate. Hopefully.

To: Pete
Uh no?? My plan is just slightly more complicated than I anticipated. It's gonna get done, but it'll take a while.

To: Pete
Patience is a virtue.

To: Pete
The strongest of all warriors are these two — Time and Patience

From: Pete
Your warriors had better be able to catch my hands, Tolstoy. I read that book. I had a hella lot of free time last week. I was trying to impress that guy. Ps it worked

From: Pete
Anyways it'd better be wicked awesome then. What's wrong? Who's in your way

From: Pete
Fight them

The only people necessarily in my way were Carmen Green, and Tyler. Carmen had been side eyeing me more than usual and her friends would crack their knuckles if I was in their line of sight. Tyler was just unnerving in general, but I could take him on if the situation ever came about.

To: Pete
Nobody I can't handle. I'm going for the romantic tactic on turning him to the dark side and it's taking a while.

From: Pete
Risky

To: Pete
I know. That's why it's taking so long smh

To: Pete
Just let the master work the magic. Watch the news. I'll be there soon enough.

He didn't respond after that. I'd waited at least ten minutes, just watching the screen in case he returned. Needless to say, he'd probably fallen asleep, or left to get some food.

The blankets rustled and dragged down my body to my waist. Someone was awake. I fumbled for the power button and flipped it facedown as fast as I could while insuring the screen wouldn't shatter. All I could do was pull lies from my lips and pray that my phone was intact.

"What're you doing up right now? It's so early and I'm so tired." He mumbled. He was still groggy from sleep. I could tell him the zombie apocalypse had begun and I'd gotten stabbed eighteen times in the chest and I was bound to die any second, and he'd say 'that's nice' and roll over without a second thought. I tried that the other day, and all he did was grunt and cough.

"I was just... reading some news. I didn't wake you, did I?" If I did, I'd have to reevaluate my steps again. I thought for sure I'd been careful enough to keep him asleep.

He shook his head to my relief, and harshly rubbed the corners of his eyes with his palms. A part of me was glad I didn't tell him the apocalypse had begun, because he wasn't half asleep, and he probably would've flipped his shit. "No, no. I just had a bad dream, that's all. It's really no big deal at this point."

I didn't want to, but it occurred to me I should ask him what it was about. My mom used to do that. That always helped me go back to sleep. And if he went back to sleep, I might get the chance to actually read the news. "What was it about?"

He froze for a solid minute. His fingers twitched on the blankets, and every now and then he'd blink a few times in quick succession like there was something in his eye. "I really don't even know. I can't remember half my dreams, so it's not a big deal, but it wasn't good. I think there were sharks with lightsabers."

I didn't know much about the human mind, if I were to be honest. But if the goodie goodie ever starts having murder dreams with blood and complete darkness, that's called 'something is terribly wrong and should be addressed by a professional', but I also really didn't want to have to deal with that. It didn't happen, so I didn't have to, unless sharks fell into those lines. Carmen Green and Tyler were enough for the moment. "It's okay. It was just a dream, like you said."

"I know," he flopped back and sent me flying a few centimeters off the mattress, turning to face me once I'd fallen back down and laid still, "but that stuff freaks me out. I don't like either of those things. Sharks are absolutely terrifying. And lightsabers? Don't even get me started. They're the murder weapon of the future; if those things ever get invented, it's game over for the whole human race."

Dallon owned a nightlight. He said it was for reading and being able to locate his door in the middle of the night for the way to get to the bathroom, but I knew the truth. I mean, it was nothing to poke fun at, and even if I did hate him, I still wouldn't tease about it. But sharks and lightsabers? Really? "Neither do I. It's nothing to be ashamed about, if that's what you're afraid of. Even if it is... lightsabers, I guess."

He didn't say anything for a couple minutes. I would've thought he'd fallen asleep, but his eyes were locked with mine the entire time. He gave up after a bit, like he'd been searching for something and had come up with nothing, and wrapped his arms around me again. "I'm not," he muttered into my neck, "that's why I told you. It's stupid though."

I almost felt bad about playing him for my own reputation.

Almost.

🖍🖍🖍

"Do you smoke?"

I'd nearly choked on my cereal. Frosted Flakes dribbled down the outside of the bowl to the table. "I'm sorry, what? It's too damn early for this, man."

"I said, do you smoke? Like, cigarettes, I mean. No drugs. Minors aren't allowed to smoke drugs. O-Or cigarettes for that matter, but they are more forgivable than drugs because of the media's constant pressure to smoke in their advertising."

I kinda stared at him for a second. I didn't want to know why he knew that. "No, Dallon. I don't smoke cigarettes. I'm not a fan of lung cancer myself."

I could tell he was expecting me to say yes. He wasn't anticipating my unwillingness to get lung cancer, because his expression faltered for a second. "Oh. That's good."

"...Why did you want to know?"

He shrugged and stared down at his own bowl, stirring slowly. "I dunno. I was just wondering what it's like."

I considered buying a pack just so he could try it, but only for a split second. I'd seen enough television shows to recognize the beginning of an addictive situation and I was not about to be caught up in a mess like that. "I'm not getting any for either of us, if that's what you're implying. Watch the YouTube videos and just stick to imagining the disgusting tar that would be eating away at the insides of your lungs for now."

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him shudder, and a spoonful of cereal jump to the placemat. "I've seen enough of those," he muttered while scooping the bits on to a paper towel, "I just wanted to try them once."

"As like... a bucket list thing?" I asked and he nodded. Bucket list or not, there was no way in hell I'd ever be convinced to smoke. It was nasty, and the thought of something so damaging resulting from something like that, was just gross. I'd always aimed to avoid it.

"I only wanted to do it once, but I guess you're right. It's better not to in the long run."

"I draw the line at drugs and smoking." I tossed my empty bowl into the sink and grabbed my backpack off the middle of the floor while he cleaned up after himself. "I'll vandalize and set shit on fire all night long, but I'll never smoke."

"Have you ever thought about doing it?"

"Nope."

"Not even once?"

"Not even once." I said as he reached for my hand and led me out to his car.

He frowned with the key partially in the ignition, one hand on the wheel. The radio played one hit wonders from the eighties in the background. "You never cease to amaze me, Brendon."

I'd heard that at least twice in the past day. Whenever I did something strange, he'd say it and stare at me for a moment like we'd loved each other for years. It was weird. It was also part of my plan, so I wasn't complaining.

"I know," I grabbed his hand after he locked the car and walked half a step behind him up to the front steps, "you tell me that a lot."

"You are pretty amazing. I thought I'd figured you out when I met you for the first time, but the more time we spend together leads me to realize you have a deeper personality than I'd expected."

That caught me off guard. I'd thought I was the one doing the analyzing and taking over for the most part, and I hadn't even thought he was watching me and trying to figure out how I ticked. "There're a lot of things you don't know about me, and you'll never find out either. Nobody knows, not even Pete."

He squeezed my hand and let go, fingers trailing down the door to the first class of the day. A light smirk had played across his features, like he was taunting me with information only he had. It was a frustrating expression. "Oh, I know more than you think, Brendon. You're not as inconspicuous and sneaky as you think, honey."

And I swear, at that exact moment, my heart had stopped beating.