Bella ended up calling Friday morning to confirm the play was canceled.

I spent more time than I cared to admit staring at my phone after she hung up, oddly numb. I didn't think the words would affect me so much, but they did. On the one hand, it meant my weekends were free again, that maybe I could catch up on sleep or study, but on the other it kind of sucked. And for one glaring reason. No more Spencer.

Or at least, the play being canceled meant that I had lost the one common ground between us. A stable environment that I could always fall back on when situations got awkward. What if when we caught up in the halls now and found out we had nothing to talk about. Would our friendship just die, or was I reading too much into it? And there would be no more kisses, my brain supplied, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one.

My phone didn't leave my hand as I went through the motions of getting ready. The screen stayed off, a black mirror staring out at the depressing state of my room as I tugged on my jeans and lazily shoved my feet into sneakers I didn't bother to untie first. Flemming was already out of the shower by the time I was finished getting dressed, face as bright as his hair as he strode into the room without a glance in my direction. Slugging a still wet towel onto my bed he dropped down on his mattress with a sigh, wriggling into his uniform's slacks.

"Seriously?" I groaned, picking the towel up and draping it over the closet door. Running a hand over the sleeve of my lighter raincoat I cast a look outside to deem whether or not to take it with me in case the weather took a turn for the worst. "Do you have to do that every morning?"

"It gets you to clean up after me, doesn't it?" Flemming beamed, pushing me to the side to root around my clothes. Squeezing a tight white undershirt over his watermelon head I tried not to frown at the stretched neckline, moving to pack my bag. Given that he'd only packed a couple of weeks worth of clothes, I'd begrudgingly agreed to let my cousin use my own since Thomas was too broad in the shoulders for Flemming to get away with wearing his stuff.

"When are you guys heading back home again?" I asked, glancing up from my desk long enough to catch Flemming applying my deodorant to his armpits. That, however, would always gross me out. The guy had his own, now he was just trying to push my buttons.

"Not sure. Mom always avoids the question when I ask her," He shrugged, tugging on some socks while I slung my bag onto my shoulder and threw open my bedroom window. Dad was stood on the front lawn, chatting to one of the neighbors by the mailboxes. It was always so weird seeing him do that, to see my Dad be a social person.

There was a firm knock on the door frame before April swung her head inside, grinning around her toothbrush.

"You woke up early enough that Mom's made breakfast," She all but gargled, bouncing on her heels as she added, "There are pancakes on the table."

Fletcher and I shared a look at that and I wracked my brain for the last time my Mom had made pancakes. Maybe when Thomas had graduated, I wasn't entirely sure.

"Quit looking the gift horse in the mouth," Flemming said, grabbing his shirt and shaking my shoulder as he followed April out the room. I glanced back outside but Dad was heading over to the house so I grabbed my stuff and walked downstairs.

Thomas was already sat at the table but rather than stuffing his face he had his nose buried in a bent spine copy of Anna Karenina. I eyed the book warily, taking a seat beside April as Mom placed a glass of orange juice before me, unprompted.

"Thanks," I smiled at her trying to ignore the sudden pit forming in my stomach.

"Is it okay if I go see a friend tonight?" April asked Mom as she handed her a glass.

Mom furrowed her brow but nodded. "When will you be back by?"

"Maybe ten or something, I don't know. We might go see a movie," April shrugged, slipping three pancakes onto her plate, curbing Flemming's attempt to grab the syrup bottle.

"If you stay any later call one of us. I don't want you to take the bus so late, April," Mom said, sliding into her seat as Dad poured himself a cup of coffee and joined us. The only person missing from the table was Jenny, whose car wasn't in the driveway even though it was only just past seven in the morning. Even Dad wasn't dressed for work yet and no one else seemed to be in a rush.

I jumped when Flemming prodded me in the shoulder, pointing to the bowl of chopped fruit at my side. I handed it to him while trying to catch up on what I missed from the conversation.

"Mitchell and I are heading to the border so I won't make dinner," Thomas said, book suddenly gone and a fork dripping in syrup dangling from his hand.

"Seems like everyone has plans tonight," Dad said from across from me, plate empty and he was still nursing his cup of coffee.

"You got any plans, Flemming?"

"Study group after school, but I'll be here for dinner," He shrugged and I decided to speak up.

"I'll be home tonight," I said and Mom made a humming noise of confusion.

"Play's over. So I'll be here, probably studying."

"They fire you so soon?" April teased and I ignored her.

"A bunch of people are sick so Bella called it off to be safe. Which is kind of good, gives me the weekend to study so I'm not too put out," I shrugged, trying for casual but obviously missing by the look everyone gave me.

"What's with the pancakes?" I asked, taking the attention off myself.

Mom shifted in her seat a little, glancing at Dad whose mouth had firmed into a hard line.

"Flemming," Mom spoke up, standing. "Would you mind helping me bring the clothes in from outside?"

"Sure..." He trailed off, throwing his plate a longing look as he stood, following Mom out the door. Thomas and I shared a look, knowing fully well Mom always used the dryer and only hung things outside as a way to get out of uncomfortable situations. Which meant Dad was about to spring something on us. Immediately April, Thomas and I jolted to our feet, ready to run out the room but Dad caught on before we could. Straightening, Dad slammed a fist down on the table, rattling the plates and putting the fear of God in all of us.

"Sit down, all of you," He said firmly, crossing his arms as we all pulled our chairs back in meekly and reclaimed our seats.

"What's going on? What's wrong now?" April spoke first, looking paler by the second. Dad sent her an indecipherable look that made my stomach turn harder. What the hell was happening.

"I know it's been a hard year so far," Dad started and I sunk in my chair at the look he sent me. "And that there have been a few changes around here that none of us expected, namely regarding your Aunt and cousin having stayed here for the past few months."

At his pause, I cautioned a look at Thomas, who looked just as lost as I did while April had grown a lot more calm. Enough so that she had deflated back against her chair, toying a hand through the ends of her hair.

"Your aunt has lost her house," Dad said, tone even and expression calm as the rest of us sputtered.

"What? Oh my god, when?" April gasped, leaning forward to grip the table.

"Flash flood," Dad grimaced, running a hand through his hair. An action I had never seen him do before. "They thought they would be able to repair the damages but it was worse than they thought. The whole place is a disaster. Jenny was just cleared to re-enter the house to collect what things were salvageable and bring them here."

"What're they gonna do?" Thomas asked through a mouthful of strawberries.

Dad sent him an unimpressed look.

"They'll be staying here until Jenny can find a new place."

"Well they have been here for so long I'm used to it," Thomas shrugged at April, who too was unfazed.

"Wait, so I have to keep sharing my room with Flemming?" I said, aspirated.

"Beau, don't be selfish." April scowled and I sent her a look.

"Says you. You and Thomas get to have your privacy. I've had to put up with him for months. Dad, this is unfair. Why can't Flemming move into Thomas' room?"

"Firstborn," Thomas offered, helpfully.

"This isn't a discussion," Dad said, earning a smug look from Thomas. "Flemming will remain in your room Beau because, believe it or not, we still don't trust you on your own. Thomas, stop mouthing off. Act your age."

"Unbelievable." I shook my head, getting up from the table. "What happened to Flemming crashing with me not being a punishment?"

"What happened to being on your best behavior after the car accident? What happened to understanding right from wrong, Beau?" Dad countered and my blood ran cold. "Sit back down."

"Dad, lay off him," Thomas said, moving to stand up also but I shook my head.

"Too little too late as always," I told him, pushing my chair back as he gaped back at me, suddenly lost for words. grabbing my bag from the floor I stood up, throwing it over my shoulders. "I'm done. Whatever, Flemming can have my room, I'll crash on the couch."

"Beau," April called, following after me as I walked down the hallway but I brushed her off. Mechanically I grabbed my helmet and opened the front door, jogging down the stairs as April raced after me.

"Beau, calm down," She tried again, stamping barefoot across the grass as she reached out for me. I shoved her hand off my shoulder, automatically turning toward the side of the house where I kept my bike only to remember it was gone. Shit.

"I'm not in the mood, April," I said and threw the helmet onto the grass. April jumped back, startled, frowning.

"Beau, you need to calm down," she sighed, quickly matching my steps along the sidewalk.

"Leave me alone, April." The resentment in my voice must not have been audible to April since she kept following me. "The last thing I want is to have a heart to heart with you of all people."

I kept walking, shoving my hands into my pockets. It was only when I made it to the corner that finally glanced back to find April stood stock-still on the end of the driveway, thankfully not following me.

Slowing down I forced my Dad's out of my head, not wanting to go down that train of thought. I tried to fight off the phantom pains that ran down my arms as I remembered that night on the freeway.

So much broken glass.

Even more when I crawled over to the driver's side.

On a whim, I stopped and leaned back against one of the street lamps dotting the main road, taking out my phone. My fingers hovered over the CALL button and I fought back the urge of emotions that filled me when I hit it, pressing my phone tightly to my ear. The dial-tone seemed to stretch on forever so when he picked up I let out a sigh of relief.

"Bow-Bow," Clark chimed down the line just when I was sure he wasn't going to pick up. "Happy Friday, what's up?"

"Wanna skip first period?" I asked, tapping my foot on the sidewalk as I waited for his response. The streets were starting to fill up with people on their way to work, other students drifting past to head to school. I started moving again when strangers started to give me odd looks.

On the phone Clark tutted. "What happened to Boy Scout Beau?"

"Boy Scout Beau needs a break," I said honestly and he laughed.

"I'm still home but if you give me fifteen minutes I can meet you at the gates and we'll go somewhere," he said and I let out a relieved breath. "I have to be back by second though."

"Yeah, yeah that's totally fine," I nodded, fiddling with the strap of my bag in order to give my right hand something to do.

"Everything okay?" Clark asked cautiously and somewhere in the background, a door slammed closed.

I shook my head, taking a hard right and stopping a couple feet away from the school's gate.

"Yeah, I'm cool. I just don't want to go in today," I told him, dropping a shoulder against the fence and watching as cars drove by, dropping off other students or trying to find their own parking space. I made out my Biology teacher's old Honda and ducked my eyes to the pavement, kicking at a loose heap of gravel.

"Alright. See you in a bit," Clark said and hung up.

A bit ended up being closer to a half-hour and when I caught Tommo ducking inside I almost changed my mind about skipping class. Slinging out of Mitchell's car like a live wire Clark barely got a word out before I pulled him into a tight hug, gripping the back of his jacket.

"Whoa, Bow-Bow, where's the fire?" He chuckled, clapping my back as we broke apart.

"Sorry, just thanks for coming man," I said, scratching the back of my neck as Clark sent me an indulgent smile.

"Diana's breakfast menu's up for another couple hours, want to swing by there? Mitchell can drive us," Clark offered and I nodded, not trusting myself to speak again.

"Alright, but I get shotgun," Clark shouted, running toward the green car. I followed after, folding myself into the backseat. Mitchell kept the car clean enough that I didn't have to dodge candy wrappers the way I did in Thomas' but the front seats were almost fully reclined back leaving little leg room for me.

"Morning, kid," Mitchell greeted, hand dangling out his open window while the other thrummed against the steering wheel to a song on the radio.

"Hey Mitchell," I said, tugging on my seat belt while Clark kicked his feet onto the dashboard.

"Feet down idiot," Mitchell grunted, knocking Clark's legs down. Starting the car, he dropped his cap onto Clark's head then glanced at me through the rear-view mirror. "Where're we heading, delinquents?"

"Diana's. Beau's having a pity party,"

"It's not a pity party," I clarified but Mitchell just snorted as he drove.

"None of my business, kid. I'm the last person to judge a school day skip," He shrugged, offering a smile that reminded me so much of Clark it was a little trippy. Where Clark looked like his mom, lean with big eyes and a wide grin, Mitchell always reminded me of their dad. Tall and laid back, there was next to no resemblance to Clark except for when they both scowled.

"Thanks for fixing Jenny's car so quickly by the way," I told him when we had reached the parking lot to the diner.

"No problem," Mitchell said, idling the car. "Text me if you need a ride back, I'll just be at the mall."

"Cool," Clark nodded and was out the car, half-way down the parking lot, before I even got my door all the way shut. Twisting the bill on the cap to face backward Clark grabbed us a table near the back and immediately started scanning the menu, even though we both knew he would order the same thing. A breakfast burrito and whatever pie was on offer. Given that I had barely eaten my pancakes I opted to order the same thing, but with no pie, and a coke.

"You can't not order pie," Clark gaped at me, rubbing a Sweet 'n Low packet between his fingers. I watched him do that for a while until he flicked it at my face.

"Not in the mood," I said, putting the packet back with the others while Clark grumbled.

"Whatever, just know I'm not sharing when you end up regretting your poor choices," He said, head tipping down as he checked his phone under the table.

"What's up?" I asked when his brows pinched together.

"Coach scheduled practice after school today," He frowned, typing. "Damn it, I was hoping to have the afternoon off to swing by Romeo's."

"That sucks," I said, thanking the waitress as she placed down our drinks.

"Fleur Masters is having a party on Saturday, you should come," Clark offered, putting his phone away.

I furrowed my brows at that.

Fleur was also a senior, friendly with most of the other school athletes. A cheerleader herself, with thick black hair and big brown eyes, she was one of prettiest girls in our year and pretty popular. I didn't think I had said more than three words to her since freshmen year so crashing her party didn't seem like a very bright idea. But then again, as I'd been learning, most of Clark's suggestions never were.

"I barely know her, wouldn't it be weird to just... show up?"

"Spoken like a true wallflower," Clark laughed, taking a sip from his milkshake then playing with the straw. "Practically everyone at school is going. I bet if you bothered to talk to people she would've invited you herself. I even convinced Tommo to stop by after his race."

"I'll think about," I said, and we both knew I was lying. "Not sure if I'll have the energy for it,"

"Oh, right, forgot about your play," Clark rolled his eyes skyward, sliding further into his seat until his knees crashed into the cushion of my booth.

"Plays over, Clark," I told him, not entirely sure why those words made his entire face light up.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I'll probably be studying this weekend. Because, unlike you, I actually care about passing this year."

"You can have one night off, Beau," Clark frowned, crossing his arms as a signal that he wasn't above pouting in public until I agreed to come to the party. "One night. Singular. Uno... night."

"I'll think about it," I promised just as our food arrived.

We ate mainly in silence, Clark pausing in defiling his burrito long enough to answer the sporadic texts blowing up his phone. I wondered every now and again if he was messaging Jessica, judging by the grin on his face, but unlike before I didn't get a pang of hurt at the idea. Even when Clark caved and forced me to have at least a bite of the pie, cherry, his favorite flavor, it didn't bring anything but a small smile to my face.

My heart didn't miss a beat when he reached over and thumbed a smudge from my chin.

Or when he threw his arm around my shoulders as we walked back to school.

Even when we parted ways in the hallway I didn't stay stood still, just watching him leave like I used to.

Instead, I just kept walking.

I hoped that was a good thing, that we'd come to a point in our friendship where things were the same but better. Did this mean I had stopped pining after him? My best friend who I was so sure I was in love with. The guy who had been at my side through it all but at the same time had screwed me over so many times this year I really thought it would bring the end of our friendship.

I turned around, hand ready to push open the door leading to the stairwell. Clark was looking back, pace slow as he walked backward down the hallway.

"Later Bow-Bow," He called through a wide grin, nearly elbowing a passing freshman but remaining unfazed.

I smiled, raised a hand, and waved back.

"See you, Jeremy."