"How was it?" Joey said when he got back late Sunday night. Late. It was nearly 10 o'clock. Craig felt almost sore from being so tense all weekend, from trying to second guess his father again. But things had gone fine.

"Fine," Craig said, not looking at Joey, shrugging. He looked at the remains of the supper they'd had here, pizza boxes stacked on the counter, dishes piled up in the sink.

"Are you sure?" Joey said, not knowing how to phrase it. He was watching Craig's tense posture, his not making eye contact, his one word answers. He didn't completely trust Albert.

"Am I sure? Yeah, I'm sure. It was fine," Craig wouldn't even look at him and turned, went upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. He slammed the door to his room. He didn't even know what he was so mad about. Maybe it was just nice to be able to get mad, to act how he wanted to without worrying about…things.

He sighed. It hadn't been fine. Not really.

Joey's urgent knock on the door didn't surprise him. He figured he'd be up pretty soon.

"Come in," Craig said, tired. Being at his dad's all weekend had made him tired.

Joey came in, looking a little sheepish, and worried. He stared at a few of the posters that were on the walls. Craig laid on top of the made bed, watching him.

"Craig, was everything okay there, really?"

"Yeah. He didn't beat me or anything," He said it sarcastic and mean. It surprised him how mean he was being to Joey. He blinked, almost feeling ashamed.

"He didn't hurt you, right?" Joey said, ignoring the sarcasm.

"No,"

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"Where were you all weekend?" Sean said when he got to school. They sat at one of the picnic tables outside, and Craig watched the stream of students arriving in cars and on buses, on skateboards and bikes.

"My dad's," he gazed across the yard when he said it but he could feel Sean's stare.

"What? Your dad's? Are you crazy? After what he did to you?"

He looked at Sean, annoyed at all the questions but sort of touched by his concern.

"Yeah, well, it's been almost the whole school year since I've even seen him-"

"So what?" Sean said, still looking at him like he might be crazy.

"So maybe he's changed-"

"People don't change. Especially parents, man. I mean, he beat you. That doesn't just change. He'll do it again. Like my parents. They're drunks. That ain't gonna change, you know? I could go back there a million times and they'd still be the same. I'd be careful if I were you,"

What Sean said worried him because he believed it. He'd kept thinking it would change the whole time he'd lived with his dad, the whole time until he left. That was when he finally realized that it wasn't getting better. That he couldn't be good enough. That he was getting hurt, and hurt worse. It was escalating. His father had been pounding on his door with that golf club and would have beat him with it if he'd been there. If he hadn't jumped out his window he would have beat him with a golf club. Now that he thought about it, safe at school, safe at Joey's, it was astounding. That wasn't being hit or slapped or even kicked. Strapped. His father could have killed him, could have landed him in the hospital. And he was still so fucked up from that, from all of that.

He had an opposite conversation with Ashley later in the day. He told her about going to his dad's, he sort of wanted her opinion.

"I think that's good, Craig. Maybe you can patch things up with him,"

"Maybe,"

"Was it okay?" she said, like Joey, but he didn't feel the same helpless anger at her that he had when Joey had asked.

"Yeah, I mean, nothing happened, it's just that, it was weird, being back there. I didn't really like it, I guess,"

"It'll take getting used to, but Craig, people can change,"

He nodded. Maybe. Maybe she was right.

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Joey was walking on eggshells around him. Craig couldn't help it but he'd been pissed at Joey ever since he got back from his dad's.

"Uh, Craig-"

"What?" Craig snapped, real anger in his voice and his eyes. Joey was taken aback. It was just after supper and the light outside was that funny late afternoon gold. Angie colored at the coffee table and looked up at Craig's angry tone.

"Craig, come on," Joey took his arm to lead him upstairs and felt the muscles tighten as he touched his arm. But he grabbed him anyway, seeing the fear come quick into his eyes and leave.

"Craig," he still held his arm but now his voice was soft, soothing, "just come upstairs,"

He let go of him and headed upstairs and was relieved when Craig followed him. He went into Craig's room and shut the door after Craig had come in.

"Alright, what's going on with you? You've been pissed off at me all week," Joey said, and Craig stared at him.

"Haven't you been?" Joey pushed, and Craig shrugged, mumbled, "guess so,"

"Why?" Joey said, sitting on the bed. Craig didn't sit, he leaned against the wall.

"I don't know-"

"I think you do," Joey interrupted, and Craig looked over at him, breathing hard, his eyes shiny with tears, and Joey felt a little out of his element, like he had that night in the cemetery.

"I don't. I don't know-"

"What happened at your dad's?"

"Nothing! Nothing, okay! Quit asking me!"

"Craig, look, I don't know what to do here," Joey spread his hands, palms up, "but something's wrong with you and I just want to figure out what. You've been fine for awhile and now…look, you went to your dad's and ever since you came back home you can't talk to me without looking like you want to bite my head off or something,"

Craig sucked in his breath and let out a shuddery sigh, slid down the wall and covered his face in his hands. Joey looked at him, trying to be patient, remembering that night in the cemetery, the light from the car headlights shining off the glossy headstones. He knew that place so well.

"You want to know what happened at my dad's?" Craig's head was down and he covered his eyes with his hands, "this is what happened. Everything he said and everything he did reminded me of when I lived with him, and I was trying to be careful around him again. And being at his house made me think of how I've forgotten a lot of what went on there, or I tried to anyway. But I guess I haven't really forgotten it in a way because I kept thinking he was gonna hit me, and I kept trying to be in control of everything I did, and it was like it hurt to have to act that way again. But I couldn't get pissed at him. I learned a long time ago not to show him that I was pissed at him because that didn't go over so well. And he wants me back. What's going to stop him from getting me back, huh? Nothing. And then it'll be just like it was because he didn't change, what's a few anger management classes? Nothing, that's what. Those classes mean shit,"

He looked up at Joey, a few of the tears coursing down his cheeks. Joey nodded, swallowed hard, rubbed his hands together.

"Craig, look, I thought it was too soon for you to be seeing him again…maybe I was right. You're not going back with him, not yet. It was just a weekend visit, that's all. If you don't want to go again you don't have to. He'll understand, and even if he doesn't, well…"

"Yeah, well. I don't know if I can go back and live with him again. I just don't know if I can do it,"