Friday afternoon had me alarmingly nervous.

After getting home from school I spent a good hour in the shower just reciting my lines and getting colder by the minute. I almost asked April to run them with me, to make sure I didn't fuck up. Which was why Dad's surprise gift a half hour before we were supposed to leave for my first rehearsal was not at all amusing nor helpful.

"You're giving me a bike?" I asked, staring at the heap of metal Dad had in his grip.

He nodded back at me, ignoring April's snort. "I trust you not to screw up again and can't afford to drive you everywhere. I don't have the time. Plus the fresh air will be good for you."

"I haven't ridden a bike since middle school," I said, grunting when April slammed a fluorescent purple helmet onto my head. Glaring at my sister I tugged the thing off, ruffling my hair. "How do you know I haven't lost the skills and won't fall on my ass five minutes into riding the thing."

"Language, Beau," Mom called, sticking her head out the kitchen window to glare at our forms huddled in the backyard.

"What about the weather?" I argued instead, pointing up to a menacing sky just waiting to rain down on us.

"You have a raincoat," Dad brushed it off, pushing the bike towards me. "I suggest you leave soon. Hall's pretty far across town."

Slipping back inside I stared at Dad's shrinking form before kicking the bike's wheel, letting it clatter to the grass.

"I'm not riding that thing," I pointed at the heap, ignoring April's unamused expression.

"Since when are you too good for a bike?"

"Since it became a punishment. They're still mad at me."

"Well, you did break into your teacher's house," she said through pursed lips and mock head tilt. I shoved her face away from me, storming back inside. Flemming stood at the island, hunched over a tray of frozen fish. At my entrance he huffed, taking the tray with him as he exited.

"Feelings mutual," I called out after him, ignoring the soft sigh from Mom.

"If I'm forced to ride there," I started, cutting to the fridge and pulling out one of Thomas' energy drinks. "I'm gonna need this."

"Beau–" Mom started but cut herself off when I stormed past her.

"At least use the helmet!" She yelled through the window as I wrestled the bike back upright and wheeled it towards the front of the house. April swept up the helmet and dropped it into my arms. Waving it towards Mom I hit the pavement. Sending a prayer to a God I was sure hated me, I strapped the thing on and straddling the bike, pushing off with weariness.

Thankfully, I made it to the hall in one piece. Locking the bike upfront I trudged through the front doors, nodding to the receptionist before aimlessly pacing around. I had made it a good chunk of time early and with nothing better to do, I started reading the plaques lining the wall. It's the clicking of heels that caught my attention minutes later.

"Beauregard, my favorite actor-cum-convict. How are we?" Bella's voice boomed. Her hair was even brighter than before, freshly dyed and swept back behind a green beret. Behind her followed Kyle, staring at something a grinning Spencer showed him on his phone.

"Not Beauregard, not a convict," I reminded her, grunting when she threw her duffel bag into my arms, hands rifling through a stack of a keys all shapes and colors.

"Semantics," she muttered, finding the right one and unlocking a small room off to the side. "Also you are in luck. I managed to get your tights in time, hurrah. Leave your things in here and get changed before meeting us at the stage."

Slipping inside I dumped Bella's bag onto a vanity. I startled when another voice called behind me as the door swung shut.

"I tend to forget how full-on she is sometimes," Spencer said, my back to him as I pulled my wallet and keys from my back pocket. "You can dump those in my bag if you want."

"Thanks, man," I said, turning before blanching as I caught Spencer in the midst of pulling his shirt off.

The guy continued talking, barely batting an eye as he popped the button of his jeans then bent to untie his laces.

"The rest of the crew are pretty chill. Astrid, who's playing Snow White, by the way, is a real sweet girl. Boards with Gillian." He explained, tucking his boots into the corner, walking over to Bella's duffel and rummaging around before pulling out something black and wrapped in plastic. In his underwear. "Not too sure about everyone else, still pretty bad at names around here."

"You remembered Tommo's," I said when words finally managed to be formed. Spencer laughed, pulling on his tights.

"Like you said, stalking is pretty useless if I don't know the targets name." He smirked, slipping a white button-up over his arms.

"Aren't you going to get changed?" He asked, noting the way I stayed glued to the spot.

Like a pervert.

Jesus Christ.

"Right. I should do that," I said, reacting at the last second to the bag Spencer threw my way before he pulled out a small tube of concealer, scribbling it over a large red welt on the side of his neck. "Fun night with Gillian?"

Spencer snorted, angling his neck as he stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror.

"Fun night with Angus' fry pan. Started part-time at a diner near Main. Anyway, the sous chef is a little manic and has an affinity for waving pans around when overwhelmed. My neck was his unfortunate target. The good news is I got paid double as hush money though," Spencer smirked then cursed when he smudged some makeup on the collar of his shirt. "Do you think that'll come out?"

"April swears by all makeup being washable," I shrugged, adding at his look, "My younger sister."

Spencer nodded in understanding, shoving his clothes into a navy printed backpack. "Feel free to store your stuff there," He reminded me and stepped out of the room.

I waited for the latch to click before getting changed, rolling my wallet and keys into my shirt and tucking them inside Spencer's bag while firmly ignoring the shake of my hands. The tights Bella ordered were a little snug though thankfully the shirt's ran long so I walked to the stage at a leisured pace, noticing a fair amount of people going the same way, most of which had already changed before arriving while others made their way to the changing room.

Making my way inside I took in the newly staged props and gave them an appreciative nod. Bella had done well, I had to give her that. She stood in the pit in front of the stage, in the middle of yelling at Kyle about the brightness in the room.

"It's so hard to find a good stagehand these days," she scoffed after he finally got the mood right. Parking myself in an empty row I flicked through my copy of the script, mouthing lines to myself and offering curt smiles to the other people passing by. I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of Spencer as he sat in the row adjacent, talking animatedly with a girl in an absurdly pink gown.

Redirecting my gaze I watched as Astrid took the stage for her first scene.

"Oh, what a tiresome journey. If only I could find a place to rest my head for the night," she sighed dramatically, placing a hand to her head as she glided across the stage. I stiffened a laugh at her dramatics, suddenly feeling a lot more competent in my own acting ability.

"A tiny home! Right here in the middle of the forest-"

"Woods!" Bella cut in from the wings. At that I let out a soft chuckle, watching as Astrid grew red and repeated the line.

"In the middle of the woods," she corrected, stopping at the door on the stage and rapping on it with her knuckles. "Hello? Anyone in?"

Jesus Christ.

I tuned out the rest of Astrid's one-woman monologue, getting comfortable in my seat. A couple other cast members came inside, shuffling into my row and talking amongst themselves. As the stage lights began to dip I couldn't help the way my eyes began to flutter closed and before I knew it I had fallen asleep. It was only when a pair of hands slammed themselves onto my shoulders that I bolted awake, startled, glancing around.

"Easy boy," the voice behind me laughed, revealing itself as Spencer.

"What did I miss?"

"Besides Bella tearing Astrid a new one and making her cry? Not much," he said as I stood up, cracking my neck. "Also didn't take you as a snorer, added a level of ambiance to the scenes I didn't know we needed."

"Jesus, sorry about that," I groaned, rubbing my eyes. Spencer waved me off.

"Bella was too distracted destroying Astrid's confidence, I don't think she noticed. Anyway, we should head out, they lock this place up at eleven."

I followed Spencer out, taking a detour at the front counter to sign off my hours for Han. In the changing room, Spencer handed me back my stuff before eagerly stripping out of his tights.

"God if I felt this antsy just sitting in them, imagine moving around on stage," he shuddered, throwing the fabric in his bag.

"Right, well I'm gonna head out," I said, focusing my gaze on the ceiling.

"I'll walk you out, just give me a second," he said, pulling up his jeans and saying a quick goodbye to a couple other people loitering the space.

"You working this weekend?" I asked, grasping at straws for conversation topics other than asking him why he chose to wear green underwear to rehearsal.

"Unfortunately," he sighed, holding the door open. "But just at the deli, which basically means slicing salami for six hours straight a day."

I nodded, going to reply before staggering back when a sheet of rain hit me full force.

"Jesus fucking christ!" I hissed, wiping my face.

"It's pouring out there!" Spencer remarked, frowning up at the sky as if it had personally offended him.

"Looks like I've gotta call Dad to pick me up," I groaned, throwing an annoyed look at my bike.

Spencer grabbed my wrist when I went to make the call, shaking his head.

"Don't be ridiculous, I can drive you man," he said, waving off my protests. "No butts unless it yours making its way to my car."

"Phrasing could've been a little better," I said, smirking when Spencer grew red as he leaned over to punch my arm.

"Shut up and run, I'm parked by the old maple in the corner of the lot." He announced before taking off, backpack raised above his head. I jogged after him, spotting the tree he'd mentioned and ducking under it's sloping branches, somewhat protected from the rain.

"Give me a second to catch my breath," Spencer panted, running a hand through his soaked hair before nodding to himself. "Okay, we can go."

"Lead the way," I waved him on.

"She ain't much, just warning you now," Spencer said, digging around his dripping backpack before stopping by a modest hatchback. "Mom is very safety first."

"And rightfully so, precious cargo and all," I said and immediately pressed my lips together.

What the hell was wrong with me.

Spencer barked out a laugh, pulling loose a set of keys, blinking away water. "That's one way to put it. I think embarrassing me by forcing me to drive a girly car senior year is another one."

"It's only girly if you let it be. Paint some racing stripes along it. Prove your manliness," I teased back, earning a shove to the shoulder before he walked to the drive side, unlocking the car. Loading the bike into the trunk I steadfastly ignored the box of condoms tucked in a corner, joining Spencer in the front. Shaking from the cold I took in the car's interior, whistling in appreciation.

"You already have everyone else I know beat for the cleanest car." I whistled, going so far as to swipe a finger along the dash, the digit coming back clean.

"Tommo doesn't drive?"

"I don't think the guy knows what a car is. And Clark prefers to be escorted around and therein has no need for his own vehicle."

"Ah, the infamous Clark," Spencer said, starting the engine and turning on the heater with a tone too neutral to be true. "Guy's in the deli almost every day."

"He thinks very highly of your sandwiches," I said as Spencer bumped the wipers on as he put the car reverse. Pulling out of his parallel spot he dropped a hand onto the back of my headrest, nodding.

"They are the best sandwiches in town," Spencer grinned, straightening up before taking a right when I pointed him towards the main road.

"Wow, and yet you remain so humble," I quipped back earning an even wider grin as Spencer wound down his window, angling his face towards the wind.

"I can't wait to burn these tights when this is over," I muttered, pulling at the taunt fabric that glued even more firmly against my legs due to the rain. Spencer glanced over and laughed at the miserable look on my face, his eyes picking up hints of the full moon's light.

"That's not a bad idea," He mused, passing Dover and taking a hard turn when I failed to warn him in time.

"Sorry," I muttered and Spencer waved me off, slowing to a crawl when a cat darted across the street, stopping before his car to stare back at the headlights. "Stupid cat."

"Don't be a sourpuss," Spencer smirked back, far too proud of him. "And cats are extremely intelligent. I would argue more than dogs, who learn due to command association and not necessarily total understanding."

I quirked a brow at him. "Animal fanatic?"

"I had a brief past when I thought being an animal trainer could be fun," He shrugged, then gestured with his head towards the houses flanking us. I hadn't even realized we'd made it to my street. "Which house?"

"37."

"Ah yes," Spencer nodded, "Of course, the only house with all the lights on and a very stern figure glaring my way."

At his words I steered my gaze to the house, groaning at Flemming's form. "That's my asshole cousin, most likely waiting to rat me out for not using the bike."

"In this weather?" He said, though the rain had since cleared to a mere trickle.

"I think Dad is using the only legal forms of physical punishment allowed," I muttered when Spencer signaled and pulled into my driveway. "You don't need to do that."

"Signal? Of course I did. I don't want them to think I'm a bad driver," he scoffed before cutting the lights and killing the engine.

"No," I said, feeling my face grow more unnecessarily red. "I meant drive me to the door."

"You embarrassed of the hatchback?" He said, a sly grin on his face as he swung out the door.

"No," I said, drawing out the word as Spencer rounded to the trunk, popping it open and pulling the bike out. "Just know that Flemming will annoy you. You've literally driven into his trap."

Spencer snorted. "He doesn't scare me. Gillian's family already broke me, I can handle that punk."

"Whatever you say," I murmured, taking the bike and watching as Flemming cupped his mouth with his hands.

"Who's the friend Beau!" He yelled, loud enough to disturb the entire neighborhood. My eyes widened as the front door swung open, revealing an intrigued April, dressed for bed and with her hair messily piled on top of her head.

"Beau! You can't just invite people over without warning us in advance!" She huffed, glowing bright red in her matching reindeer adorned pajamas.

"What's with all the yelling?" Dad's voice called and I groaned, sparing Spencer an apologetic look that died at the amused expression on his face.

"Stop enjoying this," I warned, stabbing his shoulder.

"I will when it stops being funny." He grinned, teeth flashing under the nearby glow of the porch light that turned on following both my parents stepping out.

"Oh my god, is this really necessary?" I groaned, growing more aspirated when a window on the second level opened and Jenny's head stuck out.

"Who's this, Beau?" Jenny asked, as if me having more than two friends warranted a family gathering.

"Evening Ma'am," Spencer called with a boyish wave. "I'm Spencer,"

"Ah, the infamous Spencer we have heard nothing about," April crooned, ignoring my glare.

"Not the way infamy works."

"Not the way hospitality works. Shouldn't you be inviting Spencer in? We held off dessert for when you got back since you made such a graceless exit earlier when Dad showed you the bike." She smirked, shifting her gaze to Spencer.

"He has to get going," I said, throwing him a glare not to argue.

"Beau, don't be rude," Mom scolded, crossing her arms and fixing me a look that a lecture was to follow.

"It's no bother, just wanted to make sure Beau avoided the rain," Spencer waved them off.

"Nonsense, you must come in," Jenny called and I sent her an aspirated look that she steadfastly ignored.

"Yeah, we can take the ice cream up to Beau's room while we talk. Snoop through his things-"

"April."

Beside me Spencer stiffened a laugh, glancing at me as he nodded his head.

"Alright, you wore me down," he said, ignoring my betrayed look in favor of locking his car. "But only one scoop, I have work early tomorrow so I can't be too hyped on sugar to sleep."

With that Spencer strode up the pavement, shaking my father's hand before holding the door for the rest of them to reenter the house. Trudging up the driveway I glared at him under furrowed brows.

"Stop enjoying this."

Spencer laughed, smiling back. "Calm down, it's sweet."

Somehow, those words just made everything worse.