It was Wednesday after school and Evan thought it would be a good idea to have a study session. Only problem was neither Connor or Evan understood anything in the textbook and Connor wasn't even paying attention.

    They were at Connor's house–because Evan kept saying that he should be to his house at least once–and no one else was home. Zoe had jazz band, Ms. Murphy was out running errands, and Mr. Murphy was still at work.

    Evan had been rereading the same paragraph for ten minutes, trying to make sense of it. He slammed it shut in frustration and fell back onto the couch.

    Connor was on the floor, staring at a sheet of paper that had practice problems. None of them were solved. Either he didn't get them or he didn't want to do them, Evan wasn't sure.

    Connor crumpled up the paper. "Remind me again why we're doing this?" he asked, tossing the paper onto the couch. "It's stupid."

    "I know," Evan agreed. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," Connor said. "Anything but this. We have a foosball table in the basement if you want?"

"Really?" Evan sat up. "Come on!"

Evan pulled Connor up. Connor lead him to the basement. "I haven't been down here in forever," he said.

    Evan ran over to the foosball table. "Jared and I used to play this all the time," he said. "I would beat him every time, so I'd watch out."

    "I call black," Connor said.

    "Of course you do," Evan joked. "What should we play to?"

    "First to ten wins?" Connor suggested.

    "You're on."

They've played eight games. Evan won most of them. Connor won two.

    "Aha!" Evan exclaimed as the ball went into Connor's goal. His hands shot up in victory. "I win!"

    "You weren't lying when you said you were good," Connor said, putting his hands in his pockets.

    "Wanna go again?" Evan asked.

    "I think nine games is good for now," Connor replied. "Let's get something to drink."

    Evan followed Connor up the old creaking steps.

    Evan sniffed, smelling someone cooking. "Who's home?"

    "Probably Cynthia," Connor said. The two entered the kitchen and sure enough Cynthia was cooking.

    She turned around at the sound of voices. "Oh! Connor, who's this?"

    "Evan," Connor said. "He's my uh my friend."

    "You've never mentioned him before," Cynthia said. "But I'm glad you've made a friend. I was just making dinner, would you like to stay?"

    "I-I don't want to i-intrude-"

    "Oh nonsense, you wouldn't be intruding." Cynthia laughed. It sounded forced. "Connor never has anyone over so it would be nice if you did."

    "O-oh. . ." Evan picked at his fingers. "O-ok then."

Awkward. That's the only way to describe dinner.

    Barely anyone spoke. It was mostly questions and then a short answer that lead to silence until someone asked another question.

"So Evan," Cynthia said. Evan looked up from his lap. "How long have you and Connor known each other?"

"O-oh uh, w-we met a-at the b-beginning o-of the y-year," Evan said.

"How come this is the only time we've seen you around?" Zoe asked.

"W-we m-mostly hang o-out at m-my house a-and school."

"Is he paying you or something?"

"Zoe!" Cynthia exclaimed. "Why would you think that?"

"What else am I suppose to think? He never talks to anyone and the first 'friend' he has is the most awkward person in school!"

Evan slumped down in his chair. "H-he's not-"

"For your information Zoe," Connor said. "Evan asked me to be friends, not the other way around."

"If that's the case, then it won't be long until he decides he doesn't want to be friends." Zoe put her elbows on the table.

"W-what?" Evan asked.

"In case you don't know for some reason," Zoe said, "Connor isn't the nicest person."

"Zoe," Connor warned.

"He yells," she continued, "he punches walls, he's threatened me, he's-"

"Zoe I swear-"

"He's shoved you-"

"H-he didn't m-mean it," Evan interrupted. Zoe looked surprised. "H-he a-apologized f-for it."

"Are we talking about the same Connor?" Zoe asked. "He doesn't apologize."

"No, you just don't think I'm capable of being a decent human being," Connor yelled.

"Well maybe I wouldn't think that if you weren't constantly fighting with everyone!" Zoe yelled.

"Maybe if everyone left me alone instead of making me pissed off-"

"Maybe if you were nice in the first place, no one would make you pissed off!"

"Fuck you, Zoe!"

"Fuck you, Connor!"

"Zoe, Connor please," Larry said. "Don't fight in front of our guest."

"Poor boy looks scared to tears," Cynthia said.

It was true. Tears had pricked the corner of his eyes.

"W-where's y-your bathroom?" he asked.

"Down the hall, first door on your left," Larry said.

Evan basically ran to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it. He leaned against the door, sliding down to the floor. He brought his knees up to his chest.

His heart was pounding, his breathing was out of control, he was shaking.

Zoe and Connor had reminded him so much of his parents before his dad left. Always fighting.

A few tears slipped out. He quickly wiped them away.

This is stupid. Crying and freaking out in your friend's bathroom all because of a fight that you weren't even in?

    There was a knock at the door. "Evan?" It was Connor. "I'm sorry for my sister's shit behavior. C'mon, let me in?"

    Evan tried to control his breathing. In for five seconds, hold for seven, out for eight.

    He was still shaking but at least he wasn't hyperventilating. He stood up, his legs shaking and gripping the sink. He looked at himself. His eyes were pink from crying, his face had tear stains. His hair was messed up from running his hands through it and pulling it.

    He turned on the sink. He splashed water on his face, trying to get rid of any evidence he had been crying. He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make it neat again.

    He took a deep breath before unlocking the door and stepping out. Connor was leaning again the wall across from the door.

    "Jesus Christ," he whispered. "You look awful."

    "Thanks. . ." Evan stared at the floor. "I-I'm sorry."

    "For what?" Connor asked. "It's not your fault, Zoe started it."

    "B-but if I j-just r-refused dinner th-this wouldn't h-have happened."

    "There's no way you could've known this would happen." Connor put his hands on Evan's shoulder.

    Evan wrapped his arms around Connor, pulling him close. His face was buried in Connor's shoulder.

    Connor was taken back. He didn't know what to do. Hug him back? He's never hugged anyone before. But it would be awkward if Evan was the only one hugging.

    Connor hesitantly hugged back. Evan giggled at the awkwardness.

    "I wanna go home," Evan mumbled, pulling back. "C-can you come w-with me?"

    "Yeah sure," Connor agreed. "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to stay anyways."

    The two walked out of the hall and were greeted with Cynthia, who had a worried expression on her face.

    "Are you alright?" she asked. "What happened?"

    "Zoe made him cry," Connor said.

    "N-no!" Evan exclaimed. "Sh-she didn't. I-it's just th-the f-fighting r-reminded me o-of my o-own p-parents."

    Cynthia gave him a look of pity. "Oh I'm so sorry," she said.

    "I'm gonna drive him home."

    "Alright. Be careful, I think it's suppose to rain."

    Connor had Evan'a backpack in his hand. Evan took it and put it on.

    "Th-thanks for d-dinner," Evan said. "I-I'm sorry I-I ru-ruined it."

    "Oh honey you didn't ruin it," Cynthia said. "And you're welcome here any time."