"Oh my God… really?" Fiddleford asked in disbelief.

Ford nodded solemnly.

"Why did you never tell me about him? I've told you about all of my brothers and sisters before, but you never mentioned any siblings. I thought you were an only child."

Ford stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked irritated, "I might as well be."

Fids placed a hand on his counterpart's shoulder, "Did he do something?"

Stanford shook his head and started to walk away, "You wouldn't understand. I have to go, I'm sorry." He was stopped by a tight grip on his upper arm.

"Ford, no. You can't just walk away from this." Fids stood firmly in place, not allowing him to leave, "If I wouldn't understand it, then who the hell would? I'm your best friend Stanford, and if I you can't even tell me, then… then what really are we?"

The sun tucked behind a cloud, making everything colder. Stanford knew it was a rhetorical question, but he still tried to think or an answer. What really are we? Ford thought, what are we if I can't tell him about my brother? He's the only friend I have at this school, and he really is the only person I trust; the only person I can trust. Stanford walked up to the edge of the building and sat on a ledge jutting out. Fids joined him, still waiting with an eager ear. Ford sighed and closed his eyes, trying to think of how to start the story, "My brother Stanley is a complete knucklehead. When we were growing up, I was the brain and he was the brawn. We did everything together and would frequent the beach, looking for adventure; everyone thought we were freaks. But that never really bothered us. We were each other's best friends, and that was good enough for us. In school, I excelled, naturally. My brother on the other hand… not so much. Like I said, Stanley's a knucklehead, but he couldn't really help it. He'd rather solve his problems with punches than logic, but it's not really his fault I suppose. I had a promising future while Stanley… got by. When we were around twelve, Stanley and I had found this shipwreck on the beach. It wasn't a huge boat, just a tiny thing, but as kids, it felt like we had made the discovery of a lifetime. We decided to fix the thing up and get it back in the water so that we could sail away from all of our childhood bullies and go on adventures for the rest of our life. We worked on that thing well into high school, and by the end of our senior year it was almost completed. That was when… when things went wrong." Ford stared at his feet despondently.

"What went wrong?" Fids asked timidly.

Stanford took a few deep breaths as he gained the courage to continue, "Well, one day, we both got called to the principal's office, which with us, was hardly ever a good thing. Apparently the principal only want to talk to me, so I went in. My parents were in there, which scared me immensely. I found out that I wasn't in trouble, in fact, quite the opposite. West Coast Tech had caught wind of my perpetual motion machine I had created for the science fair and were sending their admissions team to come see if I was West Coast Tech Material."

"Wow! West Coast Tech… your perpetual motion machine must have been phenomenal!" Fids exclaimed.

"It was." Ford said, looking back down at his shoes.

Fids could tell where this story was going, "So what happened next?"

"Well, that night, I told Stanley about it. He was truly happy for me… until he found out that the school was all the way across the country. He wanted me to stay and go sailing on our boat with him, since it was nearly completed. I made a deal that if West Coast Tech didn't want me, then I'd stay and go sailing around the world with him. I was in high hopes though. I was certain I'd make it in; there was no way they'd decline me… but I was wrong. When the admissions team came the next day to look at my project, it was broken. I was… I can't even explain the amount of grief I was feeling as they crossed out my name and walked away. I looked down at my feet and realized that I was standing on an empty bag of toffee peanuts, Stanley's favorite snack. That was when I put it all together. He had sabotaged my project and ruined any chances I had of going to my dream school. He even admitted to it when I confronted him and I…" Stanford clenched his fists, "I just can't forgive him. Not for that. Not ever."

Fids was taken aback, "Whoa… I'm sorry Stanford."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Stanley made his choice, and my father kicked him out for it. I haven't seen him since he drove away that night. Well… not including the commercial. I would have been perfectly fine never seeing him again though. That bastard ruined my future… he ruined everything." Stanford's scowl only seemed to get worse.

Fiddleford thought for a moment, "Well, I don't think he ruined everything."

"What do you know?" Ford snapped.

"I know that you still have a promising future." He reassured.

"Not as promising as a future at West Coast Tech," Ford simmered for a moment. He could feel a deep anger building up inside of him; the anger he'd been trying to suppress. He suddenly jumped to his feet in a loud outburst, "God damn it! Why did Stanley have to be so fucking selfish?! I could be across the country getting the education of a lifetime, but instead I'm stuck in fucking New Jersey! Stanley just couldn't let me be happy! He just had to fuck everything up like he always does! I hate him! He ruined my entire fucking life!" Ford erupted, channeling his unbridled rage into his fist and punching the wall of the building as hard as he could. The pain shot up his arm like a bolt of lightning. He drew his hand back quickly, clutching it to his chest and letting out a yell from the pain and his fury. Ford dropped to his knees and balled up, tugging at his hair with his uninjured hand trying to control his anger. He could feel cool tears rolling down his hot cheeks. There was an unbearable pain in his hand, but it didn't compare to the pain he was feeling in his heart.

Fids dropped down to his side in an instant, rubbing his back in an attempt to comfort him, "Whoa whoa whoa, calm down, Stanford, it's ok, you're going to be fine, just calm down." Fids could see blood coming from Ford's injured hand that was balled up against him, "Hey, you're hurt, let me see your hand-"

Ford lurched back, eyes wide and his bleeding hand immediately stuffed into his pocket. He leaned back on his free hand, still trying to hide it behind his body, "Don't!" He shouted, practically hyperventilating, "Don't look at them!"

Fiddleford sat up, putting his hands up in an attempt to show that he meant no harm. He was honestly freaked out by Ford's outburst that seemingly came out of nowhere, "Okay, okay! I won't look at them. Just take deep breaths. It'll be ok, just breathe."

Ford was still hyperventilating. His heart was beating out of his chest and he felt numb all over, except for his fist. Ford managed to scramble to his feet, conceal his other hand, and hurry away back towards the college without saying a word.

Fiddleford contemplated stopping him, but figured that would just make things worse. He just rose to his feet and watched Ford run away, more concerned than before. He heard the ring of the bell hanging from the restaurant door, and the boys' waitress leaned out the door.

"Are you two coming back for your food?" She asked.

"You can go ahead and wrap it up." Fids said, "Looks like I'm getting it to go.

Fiddleford knocked at Stanford's door. No response. He went ahead and twisted the knob, finding it unlocked, and walked in. Ford sat on the edge of his bed with his head drooped and his hand poorly bandaged. Fiddleford sat next to him, placing a Styrofoam container on Ford's lap and opening a second one for himself. Ford hesitantly opened the box to see the omelet and bacon he had ordered earlier. The two ate their cold breakfast in silence. When Fiddleford was almost finished, he spoke up, "We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to. I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was such a sore topic."

"Don't be sorry," Ford said, "I just wish you hadn't seen me like that."

Fids put a hand of Ford's knee, "We all have something that gets to us. For example, my nightmares get to me. But you helped me. You helped me confront my problem. Sometimes that's what you have to do."

"I don't plan on confronting my brother." Ford deadpanned.

"I don't expect you to. At least not right now. Eventually, though, you'll forgive him." Fids reassured.

"I appreciate your optimism, but unless you can create some kind of machine that can go back in time or erase my memories, I won't forgive him." He stated.

"Well then, I guess I'll get started on some blueprints then," He nudged Ford, but couldn't get him to smile. He decided to change the subject, "You know, there's this guy named David on my floor, and he invited me to a party tonight. I wasn't going to go, but maybe we should go together. We both need a break from all of this seriousness. Especially you. I think it'll do you some good to have fun and take your mind off of it all. What do you say?"

Ford swallowed the last bite of his omelet and shrugged.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Fids. He grabbed both of their Styrofoam containers and sat them to the side, "The party starts at 7 o'clock downtown at David's cousin's house," He jostled Ford and smiled goofily, "Make sure you bring your dancing shoes and get ready to boogey!"

Ford cracked the tiniest of smiles, which was enough to encourage Fiddleford. He started singing the song Knock Three Times while swaying back and forth, "Hey girl whatcha doing down there! Dancing alone every night while I live right abooovee yooouuu. I can hear your music playing," He hopped to his feet and placed his hands on Ford's shoulder's forcing him to sway as well, "I can feel your body swaying. One floor below me you don't even know me I love yooouu." Fids winked and Ford just rolled his eyes, incapable of not smiling at Fids making a fool of himself. He continued to croon, "Oh my darling! Knock three times on the ceiling if you want meee. Twice on the pipe if the answer is nooo."

Ford happily reached up and knocked on Fiddleford's forehead twice.

"You jerk!" He laughed, tackling Ford backwards onto the bed, trying to tickle him. The two were giggling as they both fought for control over the other. Eventually, Ford managed to roll over and pin Fiddleford on his back. Ford held Fids' arms down and sat on his pelvis, making it impossible for Fids to escape, although he tried.

After a few moments of trying to wiggle free, he admitted defeat, "You got me Fordsie." Fids grinned.

The nickname didn't even bother Ford this time, "I got you."

The two panted from their roughhousing and just stared at each other for a while. Ford could feel his heart racing and a flutter in his stomach. He had no idea why, though. He thought that maybe it was something he ate, or he was having a heart attack, but neither of those seemed right. He also felt a strange sensation… somewhere else, but he chose to ignore that one. He then started to think that it was, perhaps, the way Fids was looking at him. Fiddleford's eyes were completely dilated and were floating back and forth between Ford's eye and lips. He could only think of how soft the boy's hair was, and how similar the feeling he had right now was to the one he had last night. And then in happened. Fiddleford sat up and kissed Stanford softly on the lips. Ford's eyes fluttered shut automatically as he felt Fids' supple lips mold against his own. His cheeks grew incredible hot and his heart felt like it had exploded in his chest as he melted into the kiss. The tender moment felt like a lifetime in Ford's mind, but in reality, was over after a few seconds when Fids pulled away. The two boys' eyes were fixed, each still registering what just happened. Ford sat there, not sure what to say or do. All he could do was stare in awe at what just happened.

Fids suddenly snapped out of his lovesick trance and sat up all the way, "I… I'm sorry… I'll just… uh," Fids rambled as he shimmied his way out of Ford's now weak grip. He got to his feet and made a beeline for the door, "I'll pick you up at 6:30! Bye!"

And just like that, he was gone. Ford still had yet to move. That was… that was amazing… Ford though with a dopy smile spread across his face, wait… is Fids… gay? Am I gay? Are we gay? Ford laid down on his back. I just kissed a boy… I just kissed a boy and I liked it. I really liked it… I… Ford looked down, just now noticing the escalated state of his manhood… I have a boner. He sat straight up and tried to conceal it, wondering if Fids noticed before he hurried away. He now realized what all of those strange feeling meant; what they all pointed to. I think I'm in love with Fiddleford.