For the first time in my life I woke up Monday morning to breakfast in bed.

Granted it was a plate of triangular pancakes thrown onto my lap by Flemming but the sentiment remained, right down to the crudely written I tried in whipped cream. Even though the last thing I wanted was to celebrate being eighteen I would be lying if I said Thomas' attempt at being caring wasn't appreciated.

"You're doing that thing with your face again," Flemming muttered, looping his tie around his neck. The sight of his boxy uniform made me want to curl back into the covers and forget classes existed, but I knew Dad would be up in a few minutes, birthday or not, to make sure I was ready for school. Although Mom was willing to act as though I was pure as snow today, Dad was still on my ass and probably would be until I had fully repaid my debt to society.

"What thing with my face?" I asked Flemming, stabbing at a pancake and ignoring the blob of syrup that landed on my sheets as I steered the forkful to my mouth.

"That smile of yours that makes your eyes disappear, it's super creepy."

"Me being happy creeps you out?" I asked, enjoying Flemming's grimace as he caught an eyeful of partially chewed cake.

"Yes, after eighteen years of watching you scowl I don't know how to feel." He said, going so far as to shudder before dropping onto his own bed to tie his shoes.

"Don't worry, by the time I'm back home from school, I'll be back to scowling," I told him and Flemming dug around under his mattress before pulling out a bare brown box, tossing it at my duvet covered feet.

"Never mention this," he muttered and casted me a gloomy look, getting to his feet. "I'm going to miss the bus if I keep talking to you. Enjoy your lame ass party that I'm sure April cracked and told you about. I won't be there."

Placing the pancakes onto my nightstand I made for the box, throwing Flemming an imploring look. "Where'll you be?"

"At a friend's," he said, flashing me a feral grin and exiting the room with a callous, "Don't wait up."

Shrugging I pulled the box's lid free, eyebrows raising in surprise at the thick, almost navy, sweater staring back at me. Sure Jenny made him buy it for me, I pulled the sweater on after layering myself in deodorant, searching for a pair of jeans. The closer exams approached the messier my room had become and after barely making it through the practice exams I couldn't afford to waste time cleaning. It made Mom huffy every time she entered it to check Flemming and I hadn't murdered each other, but she had stop scolding me for the state of it when I turned fifteen.

I found a black pair of jeans I was sure used to be Thomas' judging by the fade on the knees. Tucking a pair of socks into the back pocket I collected the plate and my bag before heading down the stairs. I frowned when I found the kitchen empty, though Thomas' presence was smeared over the entire room with dirty dishes and batter covering almost all the kitchens surfaces. I finished my soggy pancakes, shoved on a pair of old boots, and busied myself scrolling through vapid birthday messages while waiting for Dad to come down.

"And here we have a wild Beau Minders in his natural habit... complete and utter social isolation," Aprils voice came from the doorway and I glanced up in time to catch the flash of her camera. "That one is definitely going on the cake. I'm sending this to Mom."

"Where's Dad?" I asked, ignoring April entirely as I dumped my plate in the sink. When I turned back around she quickly hid a frown, fiddling with her phone.

"Dad told me to tell you you have to bike in today."

"What? That's completely unfair."

"You're an adult now, Beau, act like one," April said, voice a poor imitation of Dad.

Scowling I made my way to where my bike helmet hung by the side door, fixing it to my head.

"How're you heading to school? I doubt you can ride my handlebars, you'll end up tipping the bike." I told her, pushing the door open knowing she'd follow me. Squinting at the sky I hazarded a guess as to whether or not to grab a raincoat as April responded.

"Very funny, Bow-Bow. And believe it or not, Thomas is driving me to school."

I gaped at her. "Why the hell do you get a ride to school? I'm far more deserving."

"You have a bike. Use it." She huffed back, going so far as to stick out her tongue, turning to storm back inside.

"Asshole," I mumbled at her retreating form, watching until the flared ends of her pajama pants disappeared before pulling my bike up from the grass. The chain creaked when I pushed off the sidewalk, making me wonder if all the rain had done some serious damage. Either way I made it to school in one piece.

Crouching down by the school's bike rack I ran a hand along the chain, frowning at the rust that decorated my palm after. Unable to do much I made a mental note to bring up the issue with Dad and started to secure the bike, though if someone were to steal the thing I wouldn't have cried over it.

Looping the chain I glanced up at the sound of my name being called from across the main field. Squinting I made out the figure of the last person I wanted to see. Ever.

"Jessica."

Pausing to catch her breath, Jessica flashed me a smile that did little to kill the dread building in my stomach. Glowing as always she dropped to her knees on the grass, searching through her bag while offering me a wide-tooth grin. I offered a mental condolence to her white shorts, truly being mascaraed against the wet grass that she seemed to pay no mind, the lean muscles of her toned legs relaxed.

"You're a hard guy to track down, Beau. I had to follow the whispering to find you," she said, chuckling to herself while I turned red. Sometimes I forgot the very real neon sign that stood above my head, bellowing "FUTURE CONVICT... AND BROTHER OF THOMAS MINDERS".

"People never forget, huh," I muttered, gazing across the parking lot behind me and making out Barkers' Prius. I shuddered at the mere memory of that night and forced my gaze back to Jessica who held a slightly rumpled cupcake in her hands.

"What's this?"

"For your birthday, silly." she scoffed, prompting me to take the thing. I knew she most likely didn't poison it, but I hadn't been the kindest to Jessica, and given the fact I made out with her boyfriend less than a week ago I couldn't stop the guilt that filled me at the mere idea of taking her gift.

"You didn't have to do that," I told her, earnest.

Jessica rolled her eyes, standing up so gracefully I almost wanted to push her over just to watch her do it again.

"It's co-gifted. Clark's out sick today and I know you're his 'Number One'... Plus, it's tradition to have cake on your birthday, so take it," she said, waving the thing in my face until I stood up and plucked it from her grip.

"It's Tony's recipe. Well his mom's, technically. She owns the bakery down on Pint Street." she added when I studied the thing curiously. It was red velvet, my least favourite flavor, so I made a note to pawn the thing off to Tommo when I saw him.

"Never been there," I answered when the silence stretched too long and Jessica's smile had turned painful. "Thanks."

"Happy birthday, Beau," she said, tone softer, and I startled when she laid a hand on my forearm. "I hope to see you later on, it's been a while since we caught up."

I tried to think back to any time I had voluntarily spent time with Jessica and drew a blank. The last time we had spoken one-on-one she was mildly drunk, the topic of conversation was Tony, and Clark was passed out two rooms over. I didn't define that as catching up but instead of saying so I just smiled back at her.

"Sounds good, Jessica."

Shrugging her off I tested my bike's lock before hiking my bag onto my shoulders.

"I'll catch you around," I said, beginning to turn when Jessica cut in again, gripping my shoulder.

"Will you be at the dance next Thursday?" she asked.

"Decades Dance?" I clarified as Jessica was a hell of a lot more social than I was.

She nodded.

"I doubt I'm allowed to, but even then I wouldn't go," I shrugged and Jessica deflated a little before perking up.

"If you can go, I know Greta Myers would love if you asked her."

"Playing matchmaker are we?" I faked a smile back, ignoring the way my skin crawled. Now that I had experienced making out with another guy I doubted I could bring myself to chaperone a girl, let alone Greta. "You know she dated Clark, right?"

Jessica's face dropped at that.

"What?"

"I'll catch you around, Jessica. Bell's going to ring soon," I said, swiftly walking toward the front doors. When I made out Tommo in the hallway I went to wave before stopping myself as Romeo and Julius flanked his sides. Turning away I headed to my locker, dumping the cupcake in the bin. I had made it to the stairwell just as a blur of grey alerted me to someone behind me.

"Damn, I was trying to surprise you," Spencer said when I turned around. He hunched against the rail and slightly out of breath.

"What's with people approaching me today?" I frowned, pausing on the first step.

"Not a fan of birthdays?"

I rolled my eyes. "If that's what you stopped me for I'm going to keep walking."

"Wait, wait, wait. Jesus, Beau." Spencer panted, jogging up the stairs to meet me since I made no move to slow down. When the sleeve of his sweater got caught on a loose piece of the barrister I stopped, still frowning.

"I also wanted to check in about... you know, next week," He said, expression somewhat nervous. I side-stepped as a flock of freshman strolled past, a couple pausing to stare at the pair of us curiously.

"The dance? I'm not gonna ask Debbie if that's what this is about," I told him, pushing open the double doors. Spencer slipped past me, skirting around a hall monitor, which reminded me of the time and where we were. "Why aren't you heading to class? The bell's going to go off any minute now."

"I have gym, don't worry about it," he waved me off, shrugging a hand through his black hair before adding, "And not the dance, I meant about the play. Opening night's next Friday, just wanted to check in on how you're feeling?"

I side-eyed him at that. "I'm feeling okay about it, nervous but that's normal. I'm not an actor so my biggest issue is just remembering my lines and not getting caught laughing at Astrid."

"Oh, okay. So, your parents are cool with everything? I don't think I'm going to be able to live down the comments my Mom's going to make. She and Bella have a habit of ganging up on me." he rambled and I pulled up short at that.

"Cool about what?"

"Sorry?" Spencer asked, still off in his own world. I had never seen the guy so unfocused, it was a little odd.

"You said my parents are 'cool with everything'... What's everything?"

The strangest thing happened then.

Spencer broke out in a full blush, right down his neck and past his sweater's collar. It made his eyes an even paler shade of grey that purposefully avoided my gaze.

"You know... the kiss," he whispered, even though the majority of people around us were too busy rushing to class to pay any attention to our conversation.

"Why would my parents care about – Oh my god, the kiss." I cut myself off, eyes widening. In the hazy that had been the past few weeks I had completely forgotten that my parents were coming to see the play.

Oh god, Flemming and Jenny were coming.

Oh god, April.

"Beau?" Spencer asked, but his voice sounded a million miles away.

I shook my head. No, this was okay. Just remember what Tommo said. It was a totally meaningless kiss. I would just take the teasing from everyone on the chin and then we will all move on from this.

Perfectly simple.

Totally simple.

A complete non-issue.

"I'm cool," I told Spencer, blinking when I realized how close he stood, both hands cradling my shoulders in a way that made me wonder if he thought I was about to pass out or something. Being this close also made me notice the faint blue streaks in his eyes and cued me in that we were probably standing far too close to each other. Forcing a step back I smiled at him, ignoring the twitch my lips gave.

"It's cool," I said, voice more confident and Spencer deflated, slowly pulling his hands away.

"Glad you're not worried," he replied, running his hand through his hair again and it wasn't until he bit his lip that I remembered his rambling from earlier about his Mom.

"Was this all secretly so that I would ask if you were feeling okay?" I questioned, hoping to lighten the mood as I punched his shoulder. Spencer let out a relieved laugh, rubbing the back of his neck I a way that only served to further agitate his never-ending blush.

"Maybe, I don't know. Now that it's so close it's become real and I'm a little panicky." He admitted, glancing down then startling as the bell went off.

"Don't back out," I warned, sparing a glance to my classroom. "Everything will go smoothly. Just make sure to grease up those suckers before laying one on me. No one likes kissing sandpaper."

"Fuck you," he laughed, the sound echoing down the hallway. "I'll catch you later, Beau. And happy birthday."

"Thanks, you too," I said, immediately wanting to slap a hand to my face in embarrassment. "I meant–"

"I know, don't worry," Spencer said, holding back laughter hard enough his lips had turned white.

"I'm going to go to class and pretend that never happened."

"I'll see you free period to remind you that it did," He said, waving as he hightailed it out the building. I stayed in the middle of the hall, embarrassed as hell, and left wondering yet again if I would ever be able to hold a normal conversation with Spencer Fox.