Jamie knew before elementary school that he was different from all the other little boys and girls. He knew when he was five years old, and Caitlin had kissed him on the playground and he couldn't stop crying. He didn't know what it meant then, but after he was thirteen, and the boys at Ryan's birthday party had been talking about what girls they thought were hot, he couldn't conjure up any names and they called him a fag. He went home the next day, layed on his bed, and thought about what the word 'fag' really meant and why he found no girls attractive. He later came, much later, to the conclusion that he must've been a 'fag' because girls made him uncomfortable and he had always thought Ryan was... Well, he was cute, now that he thought of it. Ryan was his best friend though. And he had been under the impression that being gay was a bad thing. There had been one openly gay boy at Burgess. He was a year older than Jamie and had been beaten up until you couldn't tell who he was by looking at his bloody, bruised face. When Jamie came to the conclusion that he was in fact like that guy (who had fled immediately after getting out of the hospital), he was scared right into the darkest corner of the closet. He felt like he'd take his secret to the grave- that is until Ryan moved away and Jamie realized he didn't have to live in a closed-minded town for the rest of his life.

He told himself he wouldn't crush on anyone until he was gone and in a city and going to college. He told himself. He had broken his own pinkie promise. But it didn't matter too much, right? It was just a crush. If he never told Jack, never hinted at it, never got too close, there wouldn't be a problem.

But Jamie couldn't help but feel just a bit too excited about going over to his house.

The next day, Jack woke at 9 in the morning. For the longest time, he layed there and stared at his ceiling. He wasn't quite sure why, only that it felt nice to relax and feel like he was floating in midair-the only thing keeping him grounded was the feeling of the mattress caressing his back and the blankets around his waist. When he looked at his clock, it was 10:14, so he stood up and decided he'd just wash his hair and wait to take a real shower after he was covered with paint.

When he walked into the living room his parents were already spreading out a tarp to keep drops off the wood floors. He quickly aided them and then, as they had sat on the couch to take a short break, he brought up Jamie.

"He said he'd help us if we needed it."

Anna looked at her husband. "Well, why not. The more teenage boys, the less we have to do." He said.

Jack hopped up and got his phone from his room.

Are you up yet?

After a few minutes, his phone chimed.

yeah. u guys ready?

Jack said yes and where his address was. Jamie proceeded to tell him he'd be over in fifteen minutes.

"He'll be here in a bit."

"Oh, great. I should make some snack for him. What does he like to eat? Is he allergic to anything?"

"Mom, mom, calm down. I'm sure you don't have to make snacks. We aren't having a play date."

She gave him a look. "We must me polite hosts. He's your new friend, and this is his first time coming over. I'll pop some popcorn and lay out some crackers." She hustled into the kitchen and Jack gently smirked to himself.

Fifteen minutes later, right on the dot, there was a knock on the door. Jack practically ran to open the door.

"Hey," Jamie greeted.

"Hey, uh, just come on in." Jack said and opened the door wider.

"Cool," Jamie stepped in and looked around. Anna pushed past Jack when she heard them talking.

"Jamie, it's so nice to meet you!" She grabbed his hand, not shaking it, but holding it like old women and excited mothers do. "You're such a sweet boy to offer to help. Isn't he such a sweetie, Mark?"

Mark, who had just peered in to look from the kitchen, a hand full of popcorn, said, "Teenage boys aren't sweet, Anna. They're courteous."

"Well, he's sweet."

"Nice to meet you, too," Jamie said with a chuckle.

"Well, this has been sufficiently awkward. How about we start painting?" Jack said after a pause.

"Yes, lets." Mark clapped his hands. "Jack and I'll take the rollers and start at the top. Jamie, how about you and Anna use the brushes and do the bottom?"

"Alright, that sounds good." Jamie said, and they started painting it from a gross, puke green to off white.

It took a while, since halfway through they all had a sort of paint fight; leaving Jamie's hair looking a lot like Jack's. After they finished the living room, going over the brush with the roller so it had the same texture, they decided to take a break before moving to the kitchen.

"Mark, we forgot! C'mon, before the paint dries." Anna stood up hurriedly and tugged him to the corner. "Jack, get your little butt over here."

Jack was thankful that his back was to Jamie as a blush burned across his cheeks over his mother's words.

Jamie stood as he watched each of them press a hand into the wet paint at the bottom right corner of the room, leaving a ghost of an impression on the wall.

"Jamie, sweetie, come here." She waved him over and he hesitantly shuffled there. "How about you put your hand print down?"

"Oh, no, that's okay." He said and blushed a little.

"C'mon, you helped paint. You're like part of the family now." She insisted.

"You might as well, she won't let you leave the house until you do." Jack said and grinned at him.

Jamie's breath caught in his throat. Why did he have to smile like that at him, with that little twinkle of mischievousness in his eye?

"W-well, okay, I guess." He crouched and pressed his hand next to Jack's impression awkwardly and Anna hugged him around the shoulders.

"There, was that so hard?"

He smiled sheepishly.

"How about we take a lunch break, then get started on the kitchen? I'll make some sandwiches. And maybe some soup. And a salad, we've been working hard. What kind do you want, sweetie?" She looked at Jamie.

"Um, whatever's fine. I'm not picky."

"Isn't he a sweetie?" She said to her husband, who crossed his arms and shook his head with a small smile.

"How about we go into my room?" Jack asked.

My god, say that again, Jamie thought then reprimanded himself. Get your head out of the gutter. We talked about this before we came over, didn't we?

"Hmm?"

"I said, how about we go into my room?"

Okay, so Jamie wasn't a Saint. Bite him.

"Alright," he responded, then Jack led him to the back of the house and through the door.

"Well, this is where I sleep and hang out on the weekdays… and weekends." Jack said and proceeded to flip on his lamp and sit on his desk chair backwards. He had his arms folded on top of each other on of the back of the chair, with his chin resting on top of them.

"Your mom's nice." Jamie started, trying to distract himself from staring at Jack.

Jack laughed lightly, and Jamie's heart fluttered.

"She's just excited to see I've made a friend."

"Moving can be tough," Jamie commented and Jack stiffened slightly.

"Yeah, it can." Jack said.

"So, uh, do you guys do the hand print thing a lot?"

"Oh, yeah, it started seven years ago. Now every time we paint our living room, we do that."

Jamie chuckled.

"That's pretty cool. How did it start?"

Jack's body language changed instantly. His jaw tightened, and fingers gripped the side of his chair until his knuckles turned white, his muscles turning rigid.

"I don't know. It just did."

Jamie wouldn't be lying if he said he felt uncomfortable and he swore he could feel a cold wind radiating from the other teen.

"I-I'm sorry for-"

"No," Jack interrupted and slumped, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't've reacted like that. I just... I just don't want to talk about it."

"Okay. You know, that's fine. It's fine." Jamie insisted.

Jack gave him a small half smile.

They slowly, but effortlessly, slipped back into their usual chatting.

"C'mon boys, lunch time!" Anna called and they both got up and went into the kitchen.

She had in fact made soup, salad, and sandwiches.

"I hope you don't mind that there's no meat." She said as she sat down.

"Oh, that's fine."

"I mind," Mark said from where he was sitting.

"No one cares, hun."

They ate with playful bantering and chatting, and Jack felt glad that his friend seemed to be comfortable and unaffected by their blatant awkwardness from earlier.

"Well, I guess it's time to paint this room." Anna said, but made no move to get up.

"Do we really have to? This color's nice." Mark said and leaned back in his chair.

"It doesn't match the cows, hun." She said, but you could hear in her tone that she was considering leaving it.

"Cow's eyes are brown. The walls are brown. There."

"Mmm..." She paused for a few moments as if she was doing calculation in her head. "Okay. Fine. I might change my mind later though."

Mark grinned congratulatory and high-fived Jack.

"You guys are free to do whatever then."

"Actually, my mom wanted me to come right back. I have to babysit."

All three of the Frosts' lips tightened into thin lines.

"Okay, sweetie." Anna said and began to clear the table. "Thank you very much for your help today. It was nice meeting you." Jamie smiled at her and thanked her for the food.

"I guess I'll see you on Monday then." Jack said and stood up to walk him to the door.

"Yeah, okay. It was fun."

"Yeah, thanks for the help." Jack smiled at him and his eyes warmed slightly.

Jamie nodded and waved. "See you later."

"See ya."

"Oh, good, you're here," Mrs. Bennett said when Jamie walked through the door, "Sophie's playing in her room. I already fed her. Oh dear, what happened to your hair?"

"Uh, paint fight." He said sheepishly and grinned.

"Well, clean up, okay? I should be back by seven." She decided to skip the usual goodbye kiss to the head and quickly walked out the door.

He decided to take a quick shower while Sophie was preoccupied.

"Jamie! Jamie!" His sister called from down the hall. In a flash, she ran up and slammed him with a hug after he walked out the bathroom. "Look what I drew. Isn't it pretty?"

"The prettiest thing I've ever seen." He said and picked her up. "Do you want me to draw with you?"

"Yes, yes! Jamie, can you draw me a tree? A-and put a squirrel on it?"

Jamie smiled and laughed. "Of course, my fair princess."

They spent an hour drawing until Sophie insisted that they bake cookies, then watch Monsters Inc. At six, Jamie cooked mac and cheese, then made her take a bath.

"Thanks so much," his mother said when she had gotten home and heard Sophie's giggles in the bathroom.

"It's no problem." Jamie said with a shrug and sat down at the table. "Uh, mom, I've got to ask a question."

"Yeah, kiddo?" She asked while putting some groceries into the cupboard.

"Could you sit?" His eyes stayed locked onto the counter in front of him, his hands nervously clasped.

"Oh, okay," She said cautiously and sat down opposite of him, "this is serious then?"

"Well, yeah. Kinda." Jamie straightened up and looked her in the eyes. "Sooo... What do you do when you like someone... but you can't? And you know they'll never like you?"

"You're asking me for relationship advice?" She said, shocked. She had figured, since he was a teenaged boy and for as long as he had been born he had never been interested in anyone.

"Yeah, mom, okay, I am. But really, what do I do?"

"Okay," she straightened up too and crossed her arms on the table. "well, first, how do you know that they'll never like you back?"

"I just... I just know." He bit the inside of his bottom lip, his eyes making their way back to the countertop.

"Okay... Okay, then, how much do you like this person?"

"So much," he mumbled and layed his head on the table with a thump. "I know I shouldn't, but I can't stop. I barely even know them. It's just this… this feeling I get around them I can't shake."

Mrs. Bennett opened her mouth then shut it. Someone he barely knew? He knew practically everyone in Burgess. Unless there was someone who was new-

Her eyes opened wide and she retracted her hands into her lap. That boy that Jamie mentioned was new.

"What... What's their name?"

"Does it matter?" He asked miserably. "How do you stop liking someone? I'm desperate."

"Well, um, let's see," she coughed, and Jamie raised his head, "you could reduce your contact with them."

"I can't do that. They're my friend. Plus, we have a class together."

"Oh, well, you can't just... stop?"

"Mom, you're not very helpful." He said with a straight face.

"Jamie, sometimes people like people they can't have. Sometimes it's for the best. Sometimes it's better to stay single." She said and felt close to crying. "When things get hard and don't end up the way you want them to, it could be for the best. One of the hardest things to deal with when you're growing up is loving other people-especially the ones you can't have." What had happened to that other boy had been in the papers. She didn't want that for her son. He could be gay, he could be straight, he could be attracted to people with green hair and purple skin for all she cared. As long as he was safe.

Jamie looked up at the ceiling and quirked his mouth. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks mom."

"There will be someone out there for you when you get older. As long as you're happy with yourself, everything will be alright. Okay?" She said and stood up to give him a hug.

"Jeez, okay mom. No need to get all touchy-feely, I'm not a girl." Jamie said but hugged her back and squeezed.

"I love you," she said and looked him in the eye, "no matter what."

"Love you too." He kissed her cheek and went into his room before playing video games and eventually falling asleep.

Down the street and several blocks away, Jack was laying on his bed with his arms behind his head. Today had been fun, even though it had its tense moments. After Jamie had left, his mother had gone back to the hand prints and sat next to them silently until his dad had lifted her up and sent her to the bathroom to clean up. Jack had waited till six to shower because he felt lazy and lethargic and wanted to lay around and think about his place in the universe. He was clean and still slightly damp. The cold clang to the droplets on his skin and felt like the little kisses of snowflakes.

He looked at the corner of the room to see the wooden staff that lounged against the wall. It was long and thin and crooked at the tip, like a Sheppard's staff. He treasured it more than anything.

With a sigh, he turned on his side and stared at the wall until he swore he could see pictures in the wallpaper. His eyes started to drift shut, and his last thought before he sunk into unconsciousness was that Jamie's smile was really nice.

10/11/18