"Hello again, jackass," I said when Troy approached my truck.

"What?" Troy snapped.

"Call it like I see it. Get in, I wanna get this over with as soon as I can," I lied. I wanted to let the session take as much time as I could let it. He rolled his eyes and sat in the shotgun seat.

"So you gonna tell me your name, Dawson?" Troy asked.

"Halo," I said. "My name is Halo."

"Ironic name for an Emo loser," Troy said. We were on an empty back road, so I slammed on the breaks, sending the seatbelt-less quarterback into the dashboard just hard enough to make him grunt. "What the hell?"

"Don't call me that," I snapped. "I'm sick of oh-so-popular Troy Steel thinking that he can screw with whoever he wants. So if you call me a loser again, you can kiss my help good bye."

"Fine," Troy said. "Drive." I brushed my black hair out of my face, hit the gas, and within minutes we were at my house.

"When we get inside, for fuck's sake, ignore any stupid comments from my mother," I said. Troy nodded. "My dad is still at work for an hour, and he's not as bad as my mother most of the time, but just- if either one says anything weird, it's because my mom is the weird embarrassing type, and my dad just likes to get on my nerves."

"Ok." We went inside, and my mom instantly scooped me into a hug that I immediately wriggled out of.

"Hey, Halo, How was school?" She asked.

"Mom, my answer is always the same, so stop asking me," I said. "It sucked."

"Oh, that's too bad. Oh my stars, you brought a boy home!" She cried. "Call me Jen, dear," she said to Troy.

"Mom, knock it off! I'm just tutoring him. My teacher insisted," I snarled.

"I'm glad my son's grumpy outer shell didn't push you away," she said. "What's your name?"

"Troy Steel, ma'am," the quarterback said. I groaned.

"Oh so you're the one who Halo's-"

"Lovely story mom, but we need to study," I cut her off quickly. "Come on, Troy." I pulled him by his sleeve to my room.

"I'm the one who you're what?" Troy asked with a frown when we got to my poster covered room.

"She's always trying to get me to make friends," I said, changing the subject.

"Answer the question, Dawson." Troy glared at me.

"None of your business," I said. "And why bother asking my first name if you're not gonna use it?" Troy shrugged. "Whatever, what do you need help with?"

"Uh, World Wars and the Cold War."

"Alright." I grabbed my textbook and notes.

"Your mom's honestly kinda cool," Troy said.

"She's embarrassing," I said.

"But What did she mean, you brought a boy home?" I shook my head. "Are you gay or something?"

"Is that a problem?" I asked with a death-glare.

"No. It was just a question, geez," Troy said. "You don't have to be so defensive."

I snarled at him, "Don't tell me what to do." My mind flashed back to four years ago.

"You don't have to be so defensive, Halo," a voice echoed. "I'm the same way."

"Hello? Earth to Halo," Troy said. I blinked. I was back in my room. "Dude, you gonna help me or what?"

"Are you gonna quit saying stupid shit?" I asked. Troy rolled his eyes, and I began to explain World War I.

At six, I closed the textbook. "You understand how this went down?"

"A bit," Troy said. "How much you want for the tutoring?" He pulled out his wallet.

"Put your wallet away," I said. "I don't want anything." Troy raised an eyebrow. A perfectly shaped eyebrow, except for a faint scar jutting down from the top of his eyebrow, over his eye, and stopped at his cheek. I gestured to it. "What's that scar from?"

"Just let me pay you," Troy said irritably. A flash of fear was visible in his eye.

"You want to pay me?" I asked. "Fine. Here's what I want. Don't... just don't tell anyone that I'm gay, ok?" I asked quietly. "People are already afraid of me. I don't need them being afraid of the big bad scary homo."

"Ok," Troy said, which caught me off guard. I expected the whole school to be buzzing about my sexuality by Monday. "You're pretty good on the guitar. You got one here?"

"No, why?" I asked.

"I was just wondering if you knew anything by Get Scared."

"You listen to Get Scared?" I asked incredulously. Troy nodded. "Huh. You don't seem like the type to listen to same music as a guy like me."

"You're not that scary up close, you know that?"

"Shut it."

"How come you don't have a guitar? You seemed to enjoy playing it."

I scoffed. "Do I look like I got the extra dough for a fuckin guitar?" I asked. "Not everyone's a spoiled rich kid."

"Sorry, I didn't know." I rolled my eyes at this. "I have an idea. I'll still keep your secret, but as payment for the tutoring, I'll get you a guitar and some picks. Cool?"

"All I want is for you to keep quiet," I said. "I don't want your pity or charity."

"You self taught?" Troy asked sincerely. I was surprised by this nice side of him. It was cute.

"No, a- um, a really old friend taught me," I said.

"Where're they now?" Troy asked.

"He's dead," I said. "He's been dead since eighth grade."

"I'm sorry," Troy said. "What happened?"

"You don't need to know that," I said. "I'll take you home," I said. We started for the door, but my mom stopped us just before we left.

"Stay for dinner, Troy," my mom said.

"Sorry, I should get going. I don't want to invade on your guys' time," Troy said politely.

"So you finally show your face today, Halo?" My dad asked, walking into view. "Who's your boyfriend?"

"Nonexistent!" I snapped. "I have to tutor Troy, that's it."

"Stay for dinner, please," my mom repeated. "I made pizza and there's always more than we'll eat." I suppressed a grimace at this; the sooner I got Troy home the better.

"If you insist," Troy relented.

"Perfect! It's movie night," my mom said. "And since Halo's tutoring you tomorrow, too, you can just stay the night." I groaned inwardly at this. I knew my mom's tactics enough to know that she was trying to set us up.

"Ok," Troy said. "What movie?"

"Friday the Thirteenth," My dad said. "Friday movie night in this house is always a horror movie."

And so there we were, sitting in the living room, my parents sitting together, and me and Troy having to sit together, watching a cheesy horror movie I knew like the back of my hand. Troy however clearly didn't share my opinion about the movie, as he had an uneasy expression. I found that amusing, until the first jump-scare, that is, when he swore and scooted closer to me. I glanced at him, my face probably pink from the touch, and he slid back away from me after mumbling an apology. I didn't mind him moving closer. It was cute. The rest of the movie, however, he kept to himself. I was tempted to sit closer to him several times, but I decided against it. Troy obviously didn't like me, and I knew he was only being nice because he needed my help and I'd already warned him to watch it.

After the movie, Me and Troy went back to my room.

"I'll take my recliner," I said.

"Thanks for being cool with me staying here," Troy said. I nodded.

"Sure," I said, "besides, it's a bad idea to argue with my mom."

"Mind if I take a shower?" Troy asked. I nodded.

"Down the hall on the right," I said. "Sorry, we have a spare room, but it's reserved at the moment, or I'd offer you that."

"It's fine," Troy said. He left the room, and I immediately opened my desk drawer and grabbed a razor blade. I made three quick cuts on my arm, and slipped it back into the drawer, just as Troy walked back in.

"Hey, I forgot to ask where the towels are," Troy said. His eyes widened as he noticed my arm, and I gave him a warning look.

"Say a word, I dare you," I growled quietly. He nodded. "Towels are in the top left cabinet in the hall."

"Thanks," he said, and left. A few minutes later, he walked back in, only wearing his boxers, and hair plastered against his face. It was hot, and down there clearly agreed with me. I wordlessly grabbed a pair of sweatpants, and hurriedly made my way to the bathroom, hoping Troy didn't notice my 'situation'.

I showered quickly, doing everything possible to ensure that Troy didn't hear me, then I put on the sweatpants and then walked into my room like nothing had happened. Troy was already passed out on my bed, so I clicked out the light and laid back on my reclining chair. I couldn't fall asleep, so I just lay there, until a panicked shout came from my bed.

"No!" Troy screamed. I jumped up faster than I wanted to and rushed over to him.

"Hey, Hey, you ok?" I asked him. He was sitting upright, and even in the darkness I could see his wide, fearful eyes.

"Y- yeah," he stammered. "Bad dream."

"You wanna talk about it?" I asked. He nodded.

"I'll talk about the dream if you tell me why you cut," he said. I turned on the light.

"I don't have any reason to stick around," I said. "Simple as that. Now your turn."

"My dad isn't, well, he isn't the best guy in the world when me and my brother get in trouble. But it's Cyran I have to worry about. A good few years back, when I was ten, I think, I accidentally broke a lightbulb trying to replace it one night, and Cyran happened to wake up because of it. He picked up the largest shard, and that's how I got this scar," he admitted.

"What?" I growled. "Does he hurt you on a regular basis?"

"No, just when I really annoy him, which is rare," Troy said. "Other than that, he ignores me. My Parents ignore us too, pretty much, which I don't mind really. Most of the time they're in Madrid, or London, or Paris, or some city like that for work."

"Huh. Wish my parents would get off my ass sometimes," I mused.

"You're not a bad guy," Troy said. "At school you seem a lot more intimidating." I rolled my eyes. "I'm serious."

"And at school you're an absolute jackass. You treat outcasts like shit for no good reason," I stated bluntly. Troy looked at me icily.

"Don't pretend you know everything." Troy turned away from me.

"Back at you," I said bluntly.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"See you in the morning, then?"

"See you."