"Ben, get them out of there!"

His heart was beating loudly and it was dark, and he shouldn't look back but he couldn't help it. The scream–

Ben woke up with a jolt, his heart pounding a hundred miles a minute, his body covered in cold sweat. He tried to sit up, hit with a violent, dizzying wave of nausea that suggested he needed to find a bathroom, and fast – but then he realized that he was already sitting. The disorientation nearly had him face-planting into the aisle, but he caught himself just in time, his knuckles smacking hard against something and then his fingers grabbing hold. He blinked, trying to make sense of the bright, yellow pole that'd saved him.

"Jesus," he cursed.

He turned his head and, through the window, got a glimpse of a moving row of houses with tidy front yards. Right, he was on the bus; he remembered now, he was taking the bus back home because it was Blake's day with the car. He buried his face in his hands.

"You okay, mate?"

Ben raised his head. The concern came from a guy about his age, who was leaning against the bus doors. The messy brown hair, lighter in places, and the tanned skin gave him away as someone who'd spent a lot of time outside. He was wearing jeans, tired flip-flops, and a gray t-shirt saying, 'I support the alien invasion!'

"Uh, yeah," Ben said, suddenly aware that he'd been staring. "'M fine. Catching up on my sleep."

The guy nodded, and got a cigarette from his jeans pocket.

"Want one?" he asked Ben.

Ben shook his head. "Don't think you can smoke in here," he said.

The guy sent an amused look in the driver's direction. Ben realized at that moment that there was no one else in the bus but them and the driver. While Ben slept it had gone from dusk to dark, night falling quickly the way it did in Southern California, like a curtain dropping over the sky. It'd been two years and Ben had yet to get used to it.

"I don't think it'll be a problem," the guy said, and took a lighter from his other pocket. "I'm Jesse. And you?"

Ben watched Jesse light up his cigarette and puff out smoke.

"My name is Ben," he said. "Ben Braeden."

Jesse smiled brightly, like meeting Ben was honestly making his day.

"Nice to meet you, Ben Braeden."

ooo

Dreams; it seemed like they made up his whole life, these days. Ben had always had pretty whacked dreams, with monsters and vampires and looming presences cloaked in shadows. His mom said he had an active imagination. The dreams, lately, had become a lot clearer and more vivid and Ben wished his active imagination would shut the fuck up.

"You look like you need some sleep, Ben."

Ben looked up to Claire as she took another bite of her chicken sandwich.

"I would get more sleep if Blake didn't bring his girlfriend every night to pound her through the mattress," he grumbled.

Claire raised an eyebrow and swallowed her bite.

"Did you tell him that?" she said.

"You bet I did. I love the guy like a brother but goddamn it, sometimes it's like he lives inside his own bubble."

He saw Claire frown faintly, and, although she would never outright say it, knew that she minded his language. From what he'd gathered, she came from a religious family, although he knew she didn't go to church here. And, after all, she was doing a Master in Religious Studies. It probably created some special bond between her and all things godly.

"Sorry," he said, and she shrugged. "Anyway, there's some amelioration in sight because Jenny is apparently moving to her own apartment, which means no more parents and maybe, probably, they'll start to spend more time at her place than at ours. Hurrah."

Claire patted his forearm absentmindedly, focused on the book she'd brought with her. Claire always brought a book for lunch; Ben didn't know if it was because she couldn't bear to separate from her studies for that long, or because she worried she might get bored with only him for distraction.

"You know you can always come to my place," she said, proving that, despite appearances, she was actually paying attention.

"I know." He grinned at her, perked up by her offer. "Thanks."

He watched her reading and eating simultaneously with the ease of long-time practice. Her blond hair glittered under the sun and the canopy above their heads drew shadows on her face. Claire Novak, his fair-headed princess. Not that he'd call her that aloud, oh no. She'd made clear that she wasn't interested.

"Break's over, gotta go back," he said, pushing his chair back.

She raised her head from her book and smiled at him, but he hadn't even moved away from the table before she was once again engrossed in her reading. Ben snorted and started making his way between the tables to go back inside the restaurant, when he heard someone call his name, "Hey, Ben!"

He stopped, and saw that sitting at one of the tables, munching on some fries, was the guy from the bus.

"Jesse," he said, the name coming back to him. "Hey."

It hadn't occurred to Ben that Jesse could be a student at CSULB. He'd certainly never seen him on campus before.

"You work here?" Jesse asked, taking in Ben's black and yellow polo and cap.

"Yeah, I have a job at the Nugget," Ben said, pointing a finger to the restaurant. "I'm also a student here."

"Oh, that's great. What's your major?"

"History." Jesse cocked an eyebrow. "What?" Ben said.

"No, nothing. You don't look like a history buff, that's all."

Ben gave him a noncommittal shrug. "I like stories of the past. What about you? What's your major?"

Jesse broke into a laugh. "What, me? Oh no. Fuck no." He covered his eyes with his hand, like he couldn't look at Ben anymore without laughing. "I'm not a student. I didn't even go to high school."

"Oh." Ben went from puzzled by Jesse's reaction to terribly embarrassed. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I don't care."

They looked at each other for a long moment.

"Listen, I have to go back to work…"

"Yeah, of course. Didn't mean to hold you up. See you around."

"Yeah, sure."

It was in the middle of getting an order from an Italian exchange student with a dreamy accent that Ben wondered what the hell Jesse was doing on campus if he wasn't a student. He could have been an employee, but he didn't look like he was dressed for work. Maybe he was visiting someone. It didn't matter much anyway – chances were that Ben wouldn't see Jesse again, so he pushed the guy to the back of his mind.

ooo

"So, how are things with Claire?"

Ben groaned and shot Katie a dirty look; she stuck out her tongue and he flicked a chip in her direction.

"Children," Blake chided them as he came back with the bottle of tequila he'd found buried inside their closet. "Can't I leave you two alone for one minute?"

"Jenny didn't want to come?" Katie asked, stretching lazily on the couch she'd taken possession of while Blake and Ben sat on the floor. They indulged her, because her roommate was a nightmare and they could stand to spoil her a little.

"Tuesday movie nights are for us alone," Blake said, pouring himself a drink.

There was indeed a movie on, one of the Harry Potter ones, but they mostly ignored it. Movies weren't the point of Tuesday movie nights.

"Oh, come on, Blake. You brought her two weeks ago." She slid her upper body off the couch and rested her chin on Blake's shoulder. She rubbed the top of his head with her knuckles – his hair was too short to be ruffled – and giggled at his groan. "Tell your good friend Katie the truth. She didn't wanna come? Did you two have a fight?"

"I'm tired of waiting for her to move out from her parents', that's all." Blake sighed and leaned back against the couch, his cheek resting against Katie's dark hair. "Let's not talk about my problems. I'd rather discuss Ben's pathetic lack of a love life."

Katie laughed, and Ben flipped them both the finger, raising his hand high above his head so they couldn't miss it.

"I was just asking Ben about Claire when you came back," Katie told him mirthfully. "Tell us about it, Ben!"

"Things between me and Claire are just fine, fuck you very much."

Katie and Blake exchanged amused looks. Ben made a show of turning to the TV and watching the movie, catching sight of a desolate landscape that, he guessed, was supposed to be the UK. He was annoyed with them, but not as much as if it had been anyone else bugging him. He'd known them pretty much forever, the only friends he still had from back when his mom and him were living in Indiana – he'd kept in touch with them in big part thanks to the fact that his mom had also been friends with their moms. It had been so exhilarating to move to Long Beach, California with his best friends. Living the dream, baby.

"God, Ben," Katie hauled herself back on the couch. "It can't be healthy to have lunch almost every day with a girl you're head over heels for."

"She's a friend! I see female friends all the time. I see you all the fucking time and God knows you're a pain in my ass."

"There's female friends, and female friends you wanna fuck," Katie said.

"I fucked you," Ben pointed out, while Blake was saying, "I wanna fuck most of my female friends."

"We were sixteen and we didn't know any better. Everybody can make mistakes. And…" Katie turned to Blake. "I guess I should have said: 'There's female friends and female friends you're in love with."

"Hey!" Ben protested.

Blake snickered, and Katie said to Ben, "If you're objecting to the mistake part, I'm sure you're a much better lay now, of course. If it's to the 'in love' part… Come on, Ben."

"Even Jenny saw it," Blake said.

"Jenny's never even met Claire."

"She only had to hear you talk about her. You're completely transparent, dude."

"She's not interested," Ben said, glancing into his glass and finding it empty. He was starting to feel disturbingly sober. "I can't force her to change her mind. It doesn't really matter how I feel as long as she doesn't feel the same."

"So you're trying to win her over with your sparkling personality?" Katie said.

"I'm not trying to do anything. I just like spending time with her. And she can't mind spending time with me too much, or she would've said something. She's not the kind of girl to stand uncomfortable situations out of pity. Also, my personality doesn't lack sparkles, I'll have you know."

Katie looked at him, shaking her head. "Oh, Ben. Give him something to drink, Blake. He's making me sad."

"Yeah, give me something to drink, Blake. If I'm drunk enough maybe I won't hear her yapping at me anymore."

Someone knocked on the door – or rather, pounded on it with the insistence of someone who wouldn't be kept waiting. Ben got on his feet just as Katie was saying, "Oh, you know you love me, you looooove me."

Her voice followed Ben to the door, and he shushed her before he opened it. Good thing he did, because who he found behind it was no happy customer.

"Oh, uh. Hi Mr. Bennet."

The man pinched his thin lips and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"It's late," Mr. Bennet said. "You're making too much noise."

The TV was barely audible, they hadn't put any music on, and at no point had Katie broken into drunken singing. Ben knew better than point out those facts to his neighbor, because last time he'd tried the man had called the cops.

"We'll be careful, Mr. Bennet," Ben said with his best 'I'm a good boy' voice and face, the ones that could still sometimes fool people who weren't his mom.

Mr. Bennet tried to have a peek at the inside of the apartment, like he thought they were maybe hiding naked girls or something in there.

"Have a good evening," Ben said, moving to block his view. There were no naked girls, sadly, but it was a matter of principle.

Mr. Bennet glowered at him with all the malevolence of his sad little life, but Ben kept a polite-but-firm look on his face until he relented.

"Next time I'm calling the police," the man said.

"You do that," Ben said, and closed the door on his neighbor.

"God, what an asshole," Katie said. "You'd think he'd get tired of harassing you."

"No, he wouldn't, because he doesn't have anything better to do with his life," Ben said, coming back to sit down by Blake's side.

"He creeps Jenny out," Blake said. "She saw him watching her when she was here."

"Maybe he's a serial killer," Katie said, picking a peanut from her cupped hand.

"Nah, serial killers are much more polite," Ben said.

Mr. Bennet didn't come back that night, but the next day Ben saw him watching from behind the curtains. It was the first time that the man had ever made him feel uneasy. It looked like he was waiting for something.

ooo

The third time Ben saw Jesse, the guy was lying down on the grass in front of the AS building, looking at the sky. Ben was walking to his Early Modern Europe class and had merely five minutes before it started, but he couldn't help but stop and wonder if he should go say hello.

He was intrigued, he couldn't deny it. He crossed the distance between him and Jesse without thinking about it.

"Hi."

"Hi, Ben." Jesse looked up at him. He didn't look at all surprised to see Ben. "Going to class?"

He pushed himself up on his elbow. He seemed as comfortable lying there as if he'd been in his own bed.

"Yeah. What about you? I mean, do you work here or something?"

Jesse sat up cross-legged, with his hands falling on his lap. Ben dropped his bag on the grass and sat down next to him.

"Or something," Jesse said.

"But don't you have a job?" Ben insisted, before it occurred to him that he was being rude. "Sorry. You don't have to answer that. I'm an ass."

"No, it's okay. I guess you could say that I'm currently unemployed. But I'm making do."

Ben pondered that answer. He looked at Jesse, really looked at him, and noticed that Jesse was wearing the same clothes as the day they'd met. His wrists were thin, not fragile or anything, but they looked like they were more bones than flesh. His collarbone was clearly marked, showing through the collar of his t-shirt. The thought suddenly struck Ben that Jesse was probably homeless – shit, it looked just like he was living off the campus.

"If you want, I have a couch," Ben blurted out.

"Ooo-kay," Jesse said slowly. "Thanks, but I don't need a couch."

"No, I mean… you can crash at my place, if you don't have anywhere else to go." He shrugged. "Just an offer."

Jesse frowned, losing some of his carefree look. "Do you often invite strangers in your home like that? For all you know I could be some kind of psycho."

He didn't sound like he was joking. On the contrary, he sounded like he was seriously concerned with Ben's lack of common sense. It was a bit like being lectured by his mom, and Ben felt himself flush.

"Sometimes," he said, shrugging, "like classmates who've been kicked out by their parents or landlords."

"I'm not one of your classmates."

"I'm a good judge of character."

"Is that so? And you can tell I'm not dangerous?"

"Well, yeah. Would you say that you're dangerous?"

Jesse raised his right hand, flexing the fingers with slow deliberation, like he was getting ready for a fight. He smiled mockingly at Ben.

"I'd say the jury is still out on that one."

Ben fumbled in his bag for a scrap of paper, then scribbled his address on it, before handing it to Jesse.

"Look, I gotta go to class. If you wanna show up, then fine. If you don't, lose the paper."

As he turned away, getting ready to run to class, Ben heard Jesse say, "You're crazy, Ben Braeden."

Crazy was also the word Claire used when Ben told her about Jesse.

"You're crazy, Ben. You don't know this guy. And what will Blake say about it?"

"Blake won't care. Really, as long as I lock up his room he won't say anything. And anyway Jenny finally got her apartment, so he's not at our place that much."

"Still, be careful."

"We don't have a lot of stuff to steal, you know."

Claire rubbed her eyebrow with one finger, something she did when she was particularly preoccupied with something. She closed her book on her hand to mark her page, and looked at Ben very seriously.

"Getting robbed isn't the worst that can happen to you. At least, lock your room at night."

Ben snorted. "I don't think Jesse is gonna slit my throat during the night."

"What makes you so sure?"

Ben couldn't say that he had the feeling that if Jesse had wanted to hurt him, he would've done it the first time they met on the bus. There had been something about the way Jesse acted, about the way he didn't care if the driver saw him smoke on the bus, that wasn't just cockiness. Jesse could have done absolutely anything he wanted that night. But that sounded even crazier than Claire already thought he was being, so he went for a little deflection instead: "My mom raised me to help people who need it. The guy is homeless, Claire. He's about my age and he doesn't have a place to live."

"Do you know that for a fact?"

"He didn't say it, but he didn't deny it either. He didn't ask for anything, you know. He even called me crazy too. And chances are that he won't come at all."

Claire glanced at her watch and sighed. "I have to go to class." She gathered her things and stood up. "You're a good guy, Ben. Just don't let it get you in trouble."

She left with a light touch to his wrist, and the buzz Ben got from it kept him going all day. He went back home using the car Blake and him shared, an old Buick from the early 2000s'. They split all expenses for it evenly, but Ben was the one who took care of it the most. For as long as he could remember, he'd always liked getting his hands dirty under a car's hood. He sometimes had that thought, that if he'd had a father, it would've been something they could have done together.

As he walked to his apartment, looking for his keys and not really watching where he was going, he barely avoided stumbling over Jesse.

"Hey, careful."

Jesse was sitting by Ben's door, his arms around his knees. His eyes were partly hidden by his hair.

"You came," Ben said stupidly.

"Yeah. That still alright?" Jesse sounded unsure.

"Oh, yes, of course, let me find my key and… There it is. Okay, come in."

Ben gave Jesse a tour of the apartment. "That's the main room, then my room, Blake's room –"

Jesse's whole body had a movement of recoil, like he wanted to take a step back and run away. "Who's Blake?"

Since Ben had found him on his doorstep he'd been acting a little strange, or at least different from what Ben had seen of him so far – a little guarded. Ben thought he maybe was embarrassed about accepting charity.

"Blake's my roommate. But don't worry, I gave him a call and he doesn't mind you coming. He's at his girlfriend's right now."

"Okay," Jesse said.

"And that's your bed."

Ben held out his hands in the direction of the couch. Jesse nodded, but he still looked a bit subdued, hands thrust in his pockets and shoulders raised like he needed shelter from the cold.

"Are you okay?" Ben asked.

"Yeah, it's just… You don't know me at all."

"Then tell me about you." Ben sat on the couch and invited Jesse to join him with a pat of the hand. "I don't even know your last name."

"If I told you then I'd have to kill you."

"Oh, really? That must be a hell of a name."

Jesse laughed, head thrown back. "My name is Jesse Turner. Let's see, what else can I tell you? I'm 22. I grew up in Nebraska. I spent some time in Australia and about everywhere, really."

"Oh, Australia – so I guess that's where you got that 'mate' thing from."

"Ha, yeah. Just something I picked up along the way. What else… I ran away from home when I was 11."

"What? Why?"

Jesse had a crooked smile. "We'll have to get to know each other better if I'm gonna tell you that story."

There was a silence after that. Ben wasn't sure what to say, and maybe that had been Jesse's intention when dropping that bomb. He thought about his own mother – it hadn't always been easy, growing up with a single parent, and sometimes, at the worst of his teenage years, Ben had entertained the idea of running away. He could never have gone through with it, though; couldn't imagine hurting his mom that way.

"Something to drink?" Ben finally asked, wanting to break the awkwardness that had settled. "I have water, beer, orange juice, milk… And that's it, I'm afraid."

"Beer sounds good." Jesse looked like he was building up the courage to say something else so Ben, who had been about to get up, stopped mid-motion. "I'm an asshole," Jesse said. "If we get to know each other better, you'll realize it soon enough."

It sounded like an apology, maybe.

"I've known my fair share of assholes," Ben said with a smile. "I'm sure I can take you."

ooo

Blake wasn't around for the next few days but Jesse was, for which Ben was secretly grateful, because as much as he had hated being privy to the sound of Blake and Jenny having sex, he liked having someone around the apartment. Ben didn't know what Jesse did during the day, but he didn't see him on campus again. Jesse had memorized Ben's schedule quickly, and when Ben came home he always found Jesse waiting for him at the door.

The routine was good. For some reason, the dreams seemed to take a backseat and Ben could once again chalk them up to his brain's weirdness. Blake came back for Tuesday movie night, and Jesse was officially introduced to both him and Katie.

"Jenny isn't coming?" Ben asked when Blake showed up with a pack of beer, a bag of chips, and no girlfriend.

"She has a night out with her friends." Blake threw a thumb above his shoulder. "I brought that one with me though."

"And there's no refund," Katie said, tugging at one of his large ears. "I'm starting to think that your girl doesn't like us."

"That's all on you," Ben said. "I'm adorable."

Katie had been about to reply when she saw Jesse coming out of the bathroom. Ben didn't have the time to warn him before Katie was on him, all but hanging off his arm.

"Ooooh, so you're Ben's new stray!" She turned to Ben. "He's cute! I approve."

"Sorry about her," Blake said. "The store didn't want to take her back. Nice to meet you, man."

"Same. And thanks for letting me stay here, mate."

"Ah, it's nothing. Not like I can refuse Ben anything. He's the man in this relationship."

Jesse laughed, and although Ben was happy to see his friends bond with his new picked-up-from-the-street acquaintance, he wasn't sure he wanted it to be done at his expense. "Shut up, all of you."

"I didn't say anything. Much. I certainly didn't mock you," Katie protested.

Ben laughingly locked an arm around her neck, not easily because she was almost as tall as he was, and kissed her on the cheek.

"It's true, darlin'. If this night was a don't-piss-Ben-off Olympics, you'd have a good start."

"But it's not," Blake said, shoving at him, "so I suggest we pick a movie and get to the drinking."

They chose a classic, The Avengers – which, to their surprise, Jesse had never seen.

"How did that happen?" Blake exclaimed. "Did you live under a rock?"

"I remember I went to see it with my first boyfriend," Katie said, then paused to have a mouthful of the leftover lasagna she'd dug out of the fridge. "We held hands and everything. Robert Downey Jr. was so hot."

"I thought I was your first boyfriend," Ben said.

"You were the first guy I had sex with, but I had boyfriends before you. But it's cute that you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous!"

"And he's not that cute," Blake said. "Seriously, Jesse. Don't you like superheroes?"

Blake sounded like it was a crime almost as dire as running over puppies or drowning kittens for fun. Jesse had an amused smile but didn't divert his eyes from the TV screen. Ben couldn't read him at all, couldn't tell whether his friend's questions and exaggerated bewilderment bothered him, but he thought back to what Jesse had told him about running away from home at 11 and suddenly felt very awkward.

"Guys," he said, and thought he sounded a bit like his mom when she'd say, kids, give him a break. "Let's watch the movie, okay?"

Katie and Blake looked at each other, but thankfully said nothing. The atmosphere for the rest of the night was companionable, but Ben couldn't help casting looks in Jesse's direction from time to time. He never caught Jesse looking back, but was somehow certain that he was aware of the attention.

The next day was spent suffering the hangover from hell. Ben couldn't seem to shake the headache. Sounds were too loud, colors too bright – the red of the brick buildings on the campus, the green of the trees, and the blue of the Californian sky all seemed to conspire to hurt his eyes. The world had taken on a fuzzy quality that gave Ben the impression that he was dreaming. Maybe he was, or so Gabby – who worked at the cash register next to his – seemed to think, as she kept asking him to quit dreaming, Ben, god, pay attention to what you're doing for fuck's sake.

"Ben! Come on, Ben, wake up!"

It was Gabby again. Ben yawned so wide it brought tears to his eyes. He blinked them away.
"You have a customer!" Gabby said, in a hiss that was high-pitched enough that it made half of the people in the line look at her, then at Ben.

Ben blinked again, his vision clearing.

"Hey," the customer said. "Can I order some food or do I have to fuck you to consciousness first?"

Ben had little to answer to that. The customer was a girl a little older than him, with dark curly hair spread over her shoulders and the complexion of a porcelain doll. She was wearing a leather jacket, a red shirt cut low and tight dark jeans – she looked ready to eat him alive, and intensely amused by his confusion.

"What can I get you?" he asked, deciding to ignore her previous statement.

"I'll have a bacon cheeseburger. With the combo – seasoned fries."

"Okay. What's your name?"

He looked up when she didn't say anything immediately, and saw that she had gotten closer, enough to be able to touch him if she reached out. Her lips, painted red, curled up slowly in a delighted smile.

"Call me Meg," she said and smiled wider like she was savoring some kind of private joke.

He wrote down the name on the ticket. He was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute, and she wasn't even doing anything inappropriate. She just looked... like she knew a lot more about him than he knew about her. The knowing look reminded him a little of Jesse, but with a much darker edge to it.

"We'll call your name when it's ready," he said when she didn't move.

He didn't have any warning before she grabbed his wrist, fast as a snake, and strong enough that he couldn't shake her off.

"Let me go!"

"There are walls in your mind, Ben Braeden, but you'll catch up soon enough." Her words were low, meant just for him. How in hell did she know his name? "This is gonna be a fun ride, boy."

She let go of him as suddenly as she had caught him. For a moment he couldn't move, his heart beating a wild rhythm, like it wanted to break his ribs and jump right out of his chest.

"Are you okay?" Gabby asked, leaving her cash register to hover by his side. "That girl is nuts."

"Yeah," Ben murmured. "Completely fucking nuts."

"What did she tell you?"

Ben rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. His head was pounding fiercely and he felt chilled to the bone.

"Do you wanna take a short break?" Gabby asked.

"Yeah," Ben said. The cold feeling was morphing into nausea and his head was spinning. "I'll be right back."

He rushed to the bathroom but once he was there, leaning over the toilet with both of his hands on the porcelain, he found that he couldn't throw up. The nauseous feeling wasn't relenting, though, and he went to splash some water on his face. The lights were still too bright and one of the neon lamps above the mirrors was buzzing, like an insect trapped in a tight space. The noise set Ben's teeth on edge, and didn't do anything to help his headache. He rubbed his temple in a slow circular motion and blinked a few times, trying to chase the colors that had started swirling at the corner of his vision. It only got worse, until the colors became images. A sleek black car, old but shiny. A bearded man wearing a baseball cap. A black man, falling down to the floor.

His breathing came out fast and shallow, and his hands gripped the edges of the sink. When he looked at himself in the mirror, for a moment it wasn't his face but the face of a man at least ten years older, with short light brown hair, hazel eyes that edged on green, and a full mouth. Ben let out a gasp and brought his hand to his face, but the blink of an eye later it was his own reflection again, the familiar dark curls and brown eyes. He told Gabby that he was feeling sick and to cover for him, and he went home.

He had barely passed the door before Jesse was there, crowding his personal space. His face was dark, making him look almost unfamiliar. His grey eyes seemed black.

"What happened?" he asked urgently. "Are you alright?"

His hand brushed against Ben's shoulder, and although Ben usually didn't mind other people's touch he found himself slapping the hand away. His skin felt sensitive, his body heavy and buzzing like a myriad of insects had taken residence inside him.

"I'm going to bed," Ben said, and made a beeline for his room.

He heard Jesse swear, then a thud like Jesse had punched a wall. For the first time since Jesse had arrived, Ben locked himself in his bedroom.

ooo

After twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep, Ben woke up with a clear head and only a vague memory of the incident at the Nugget. He remembered being a little short with Jesse and wanted to apologize, but Jesse acted as if nothing had happened and Ben was more than eager to leave the whole thing behind him.
He'd missed lunch with Claire the day before, and received a terse but worried text from her.

Unless you got run over by a truck, text me.

No truck in sight, he texted back. Was sick yesterday; sorry I didn't warn you! Am coming today, usual time and place – see you then.

He had no class that morning, no work, so he arrived on campus at noon just to have lunch with Claire. She was already at her usual table, reading, but raised her head at his approach, uncannily aware of his presence.

"Ben." She looked him up and down. "How are you feeling?"

He sat down across from her and folded his arms on the table. "Fine. It was nothing. I just…"

He hesitated. He'd always had the feeling that he could tell her anything, which had led to some pretty embarrassing confessions in the past. She'd accepted every one of them unblinkingly. He leaned toward her.

"Something weird happened to me yesterday," he said.

"Something weird?" He must have looked really serious, because she closed her book and put it away in her bag. "Tell me."

"One of the customers at the Nugget, she – I don't remember having ever seen her before but she knew my name. And she said – that there were walls in my mind, whatever that means, that that it was going to be 'a fun ride'."

It felt silly, now that he was looking back on the incident with a night of rest, to have been so fucked up over some crazy girl feeding him cryptic lines. Claire didn't laugh or smile, or even look like she was trying not to, so he was ready to tell her about the sort-of hallucination he'd had in the bathroom, when he saw something that gave him pause.

"Ben?" Claire asked. "What's the matter?"

"Jesse?" he murmured.

"Jesse? You mean the guy you invited to stay with you?"

She turned around to look at Jesse, who was standing at a distance, leaning against a railing. It was obvious that he'd been watching them, and that he'd seen them noticing. He pushed off from the railing and strolled up to them; there was a form of unconscious grace about the way he moved that Ben found captivating, although he kept the the thought to himself.

"Hi, Ben," Jesse said, and turned a blinding smile to Claire. "Hey, I'm Jesse."

"Claire."

"Nice to meet you, Claire."

"Hey, Jesse, um–" Ben was surprised to see Jesse on campus again, but it wasn't like Jesse couldn't come and go as he pleased. "Did you need something?"

Jesse didn't have a cell phone – maybe that was it, maybe he wanted to tell Ben something and knew that he was always having lunch with Claire at the Nugget when he could.

"No," Jesse said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I was just passing by." He didn't even seem bothered by how unlikely that explanation was. "I'm glad to meet you, Claire. Ben talks a lot about you."

Ben glared at him, but Jesse ignored him, all his attention focused on Claire. He was still smiling, but there was something a little stilted about his smile. As for Claire, now that Ben was looking at her – she was eyeing Jesse coldly, her mouth pinched in a thin line like she didn't like what she was seeing. For the life of him, Ben couldn't figure why; he'd known her for two years now, and she was a little reserved, on her guard when she didn't know someone, but never outright hostile, not like she was being now.

"He talks a lot about you too," she eventually told Jesse, making it sound like it wasn't a point in his favor. "You moved in with him recently, right?"

"Yeah. Ben's a great guy."

"He is," Claire said, and Ben would've found it more heartwarming if she'd glanced in his direction or smiled.

"Uh, guys?" Ben said. "Did I miss something?" It seemed crazy, but he had to ask, "Do you two know each other?"

"No," they said in unison, still staring at each other.

"Okay, weird. Jesse, do you want to have lunch with us?"

He didn't need Claire's sudden cutting gaze turned on him to realize that it was a bad suggestion, so it was a relief when Jesse refused. Claire's eyes followed him as he walked away.

"I don't like him," she declared once Jesse was out of sight.

"Why? You've seen him for like, two minutes, and he hasn't done anything outrageous that I've noticed."

Claire looked away. "It's just a feeling I have. Don't trust him, Ben."

That was all she had to say on the subject, and since Ben would rather keep her in a good mood, he didn't insist.

"What did you want to tell me?" Claire asked. "Before he came – about what happened to you yesterday. You were about to tell me something else."

"Oh, no, that was it, I was finished with my story. Just a weird customer at the Nugget – it shook me up, but it was stupid now that I think about it."

He had no idea why he'd changed his mind about telling her, and he wasn't sure Claire believed him, but that was the end of their discussion on the incident.

A/N: This story is already complete. I'll update one chapter a day.