Chapter 2

“I appreciate it.” And he did. Awkward or not, he needed some place to go. At the moment, without his wallet, he couldn’t come up with another option.

Eventually it became clear there’d be nothing left to salvage, except, hopefully, the fireproof box Oliver kept in his closet. Assuming it could be found among the rubble once the entire mess cooled down enough to search.

But he’d worry about all that later. For now, he’d be happy to have gotten out at all.

The quiet hum of a car’s engine drew Oliver’s attention. Something black and expensive, with dark windows, slid up to the curb behind them.

“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

Oliver’s eyes snapped to Mia. “What?”

“That’s David picking us up.”

“David?” Oliver worked to keep any emotion off his face and out of the tone of his voice. “You never mentioned your brother was back.”

But of course he was back. David had been back in town for nearly three months. Oliver had known for weeks.

“Yeah, sorry.” Mia made a face. “It’s just that, well, with how you two ended, I figured you wouldn’t want to know. Even if I didn’t know why.”

“That was a long time ago. I was a kid.” But he hadn’t been. Not there at the end. “It’ll be nice to see if he’s outgrown being an asshole.”

That made Mia laugh, and the sound of it helped Oliver relax.

“Don’t hold your breath.”

Oliver turned back to the car just in time to see the tall, dark-haired figure of David Elliston climb out of the driver’s seat. He’d only had a moment to prepare himself, and the sight of him—his first crush, his first kiss, his first everything—made Oliver’s pulse race and left him feeling slightly ill.

“You’re both okay?” David looked back and forth between the two of them, holding Oliver’s gaze for a heartbeat too long, before focusing completely on his sister, who nodded, answering for them both.

“Yes, thank God.” The sound of David’s voice had unearthed memories in Oliver that he wanted to keep buried, and he tried to focus his attention on Mia. “Think everything will fit in the car?”

“We’ll make it work.” David stepped forward to grab the giant garbage bag off the ground, and Oliver would have let him if he hadn’t seen Scott crossing the yard, heading his direction

“I’ve got it.” He bent down and hefted it up into his arms again.

David nodded, saying nothing, just moving to open the driver’s side back door for Oliver before going to grab his sister’s suitcase to throw in the trunk.

Oliver forced the bag into the back and was around to the other side of the car when Mia called shotgun, saving him from any awkwardness of insisting he should sit in the back of the car with, what he guessed, was his best friend’s dirty clothes.

She looked over, giving him a smile, and he knew she’d done it for him. Even if she didn’t really know the reason why.

What Mia didn’t know about Oliver and David could have filled a book.

* * * *

Eleven Years Ago

“The party’s downstairs.”

Oliver jumped at the voice behind him and turned to find Mia’s older brother.

“Huh?”

“The party.” David tipped his chin down, indicating the floor below. “You’re Oliver, right? The party’s not up here, buddy.”

“Oh. Yeah.” But Oliver had come upstairs to escape. “Do you mind if I hide up here for a few minutes?”

The other boy stopped lacing up his combat boots to study Oliver, who hovered in his doorway. He wore a snug, red T-shirt and tight, black jeans, and just the sight of him made Oliver shake a little.

“Have at it.” He pointed to the chair in the corner of his room by the window and went back to getting ready. “But I’m leaving in about five minutes.”

“Where’re you going?” Oliver crossed the floor, carefully stepping over piles of books and dirty clothes, and dropped into the chair.

“I gotta date.” David finished lacing up and stood to gather a few things, stopping to debate a bottle of cologne.

“Is she pretty?” It was a stupid thing to ask. David was seventeen, a junior, and everyone in their entire school knew he was gay. Even a freshman like himself. It was just that part of Oliver craved to hear him talk about it, to hear someone talk about it in a voice that wasn’t a whisper. Like it wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

David caught his eyes in the mirror above his dresser for a long moment before smiling. It made Oliver feel completely transparent. “He’s okay. Not as blond as you, but cute.”

Oliver went completely pink.