"So did your class change go through?" Tessa asked as Richie silently tore a salad that night for dinner.

"I decided not to," Richie answered hoarsely.

"Why not? You seemed pretty adamant last night."

"What's that mean?" Richie knew what adamant meant, but wanted to distract Tessa long enough to come up with an excuse.

"Insistent," she told him. "You weren't going to take no for an answer."

"Oh. I talked to Mr. Colazano and decided to stay in his class, is all."

"Alright," Tessa agreed. "It's your class. How was your day?"

"Fine," Richie shrugged. "Do you mind if I go lay down until dinner? My head hurts."

"Do you want some aspirin?"

"No, I'll be fine." Richie retreated into his room.

Richie skipped dinner and remained in his room all night. He did his homework, took a shower, and was in bed at nine thirty.

"Are you feeling okay?" Duncan asked looking in on the boy. "You look ill."

Seeing a temporary solution to his problem, Richie put on his best sick face. "My head hurts. And my stomach's kinda gurgley. I was feeling kinda bad yesterday, too."

"You didn't each much diner last night," Duncan agreed putting his hand on the boy's forehead. "You don't feel warm, but then again you don't always need a fever to be sick. I'm going to make you some tea I want you to drink. It'll help your stomach and help you sleep. I'll be right back."

Before Duncan returned Tessa was at Richie's side taking his temperature checking for any visible signs of illness, and generally fussing over him.

"I knew something was wrong," she murmured stroking his cheek. "Why didn't you say something yesterday?"

"Cause I figured it was nothing," Richie answered trying not to be too obvious he was faking.

"Next time say something."

Duncan came in with a mug of tea and waited for Richie to sit up before handing it to him. "It has peppermint and ginger in it. It doesn't taste amazing, but it works." Richie raised the mug to his lips and wrinkled his nose. "Don't smell it," Duncan advised. "And it's hot," he added when Richie made a strange noise as the nearly boiling liquid hit his lips.

"Thanks for the warnings," Richie managed. "How is this stuff supposed to make me feel better? It's disgusting."

"You'll thank me in the morning."

"Remind me," he mumbled as he sipped at the tea.

"Now, I don't want you toughing it out," Tessa instructed when Richie handed Duncan the empty mug and settled into his pillows. "If you still feel ill tomorrow, tell us. You won't have to go to school."

"Great sick on the third day," Richie laughed a little and forced out one of his hacking coughs for extra umph.

"Richie! That sounds horrible. When did you start coughing?" Tessa leaned over him to check for a fever again.

"Just now."

"If you get much worse we're calling the doctor. You're starting to feel a little warm."

"He is?" Duncan put his hand on Richie's other cheek.

"Mahbe itz all the han's on mah fac," Richie suggested as best he could with Tessa and Duncan's hands continually moving around his face to check his fever.

"Sorry, tough guy," Duncan chuckled. "Don't let your hate of pampering prompt you to go to school sick, though."

They waited for Richie to fall asleep before they left his room. When the door closed Richie silently counted to a hundred to make sure both had gone then opened his eyes and sat up. He was in big trouble. Mitch had kept him in the classroom until just before the first bell rang that morning and had seated him front and center directly in front of his own desk in sixth period. Richie did his best not to look as uncomfortable as he felt and when Natalie asked him about it he just said he hated sitting in the front of the class. He had gone home unable to shake the feeling of impending doom in his stomach. He hadn't eaten all day and had been running out of excuses. It felt a little bad lying about being sick, but he wouldn't milk it too much. He just needed one day to come to grips with what he had done to himself then he'd be fine. Richie couldn't sleep so all night whenever he thought to he forced out a few of his bronchitis worthy coughs.

The next morning he got out of bed when his alarm went of and started to get ready for school, unsuccessfully smothering a large coughing fit that made his throat hurt. Tessa knocked on his door and opened it when he couldn't say 'come in' for all the coughing he was doing.

"Richie, you sound horrible."

"I'm fine," Richie answered his voice scratchy.

"But you were coughing all night, and now this. this fit. You're not going anywhere," she decided. "Put on some warm pajamas and get back in bed. Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Then I'll make you some tea to make your throat feel better."

"Is that, like, your solution to everything?" Richie asked as he took off his tie.

"For now, until the doctor says otherwise." Tessa opened Richie's drawers until she found what she was looking for, the plaid flannel pajamas, and handed them to him. "Get in bed."

"The doctor?" Richie took off his shirt.

"Yes, the doctor."

"It's just a cough."

"That sounds like you're about to explode?"

"It's just the way I cough."

"Then let the doctor hear it. No arguments; now change and get in bed."

Tessa called the school to tell them that Joel wasn't going to be there and then called the doctor to report that Richie was ill. Richie drank the tea without protest, honey lemon was much better than peppermint ginger, and actually drifted to sleep until the prodding and freezing hands of the doctor woke him.

"Well, he doesn't feel like he has a fever," the doctor said. "And he's awake," she added when she noticed a pair of blues eyes regarding her carefully.

"You're a girl," Richie told her.

She smiled. "You're a boy."

"I know, so why are you here?"

"Richie," Duncan scolded. "She's just as good as any man."

"That's not what I." he coughed a few times. "Not what I meant. I just meant, shouldn't you be taking care of girls?"

"I am perfectly capable of taking care of boys. Aside form a few obvious differences they're just like girls."

"But you're in my room." Richie was clearly uncomfortable with the idea.

"Do you want to go in the living room?" she offered.

"I'm in my pajamas!" Richie protested holding the covers tightly around himself.

"I'll tell you what. I just need to do two more things and then I'm done. Can you handle that?"

"Of course he can," Tessa interrupted. "Can't you?"

"Yeah," Richie answered quietly.

"Okay, sit up and take off you're shirt. I'm going to listen to your breathing." Richie did as he as told and the doctor pulled out a stethoscope from her bag. Richie jumped when the cold instrument touched his chest. "We do that on purpose," she smiled at him. "Take a deep breath." She had Richie breathe deeply for a minute as she listened for any signs of abnormalities. "Okay, that sounds fine. Now I know this looks big, strange, and possibly painful, but it's just a thermometer." Richie looked at the large computer like device in her hand. She leaned towards him and he leaned away.

"Where do you put it?"

"You're ear, like this." She put the rubber tip in his ear and left it there a few seconds the pulled it back out. "See? That's it. And you don't have a fever." She turned to Duncan and Tessa. "What I would suggest is keep him in bed, keep him drinking, and try to get him to eat. I would suggest Ginger Ale and chicken soup. As long as he doesn't start coughing anything up, a simple cough suppressant should do the trick. If he gets worse call me."

Duncan walked the doctor out and Tessa went to do her own inspection of Richie. "That wasn't very nice of you," she told him as she brushed a few curls off his forehead.

"When you said doctor I was expecting a guy," Richie shrugged. "And I just woke up."

Tessa smiled. "It still wasn't very nice. Go back to sleep."

. . . . . .

"Where were you yesterday, Joel?" Mitch asked as Richie quietly took his seat the next day at school.

"I was sick."

"Oh, are you okay now?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. Maybe you should come after school for some tutoring so you can catch up."

With the whole class listening Richie tried to get out of it. "I'll be fine."

"I'd feel better if I could explain this to you. Be here after school."

Richie gave up. "Yes, sir."

Richie worked on his make-up work in study hall while he had a teacher to help him. And when the bell rang he heaved a great sigh as he gathered his stuff and prepared to spend the afternoon with Mitch.

"I have to be home at 5:30," Richie said as he entered the empty classroom.

"How long does it take you to get home?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Really? Just to get to Westbrook it takes you twenty minutes?" Mitch looked at Richie with raised eyebrows.

"Fine, ten."

"Then you may leave at 5:15. Now take a seat and get out your grammar book."

From 4:30 to 5:15 Mitch leaned over Richie and explained various parts of speech to him using the kinkiest sentences he could think of as examples. Richie quietly played along repressing his urge to scream. By the time Mitch let him leave he had so much pent up frustration that it only took him five minutes to get home.

"Hi, Richie," Tessa greeted. "Do you want to help with dinner?"

"Not tonight," Richie mumbled brushing past her and going to his room.

"Somebody's cranky," Duncan commented.

Friday, Mitch told Richie to stay after class and gave him an address and direct instructions to be there Saturday morning at ten. So Saturday morning Richie loaded some books into his messenger bag and announced he was going to the library to study because he got distracted in his room and the kitchen was too noisy. He drove off in the direction of the library to appease any nosey eyes and then doubled back. The address he was given had been vaguely familiar when he looked at it and when he arrived he realized why. It was the same apartment building he had spent a couple years in as a child. The apartments where he and Mitch had met. Slowly Richie went up the stairs to apartment 8C and knocked.

"Right on time," Mitch grinned at him opening the door. "Come on in. Put your bag down, take off your shoes, relax, make yourself at home." Richie stood in front of the closed door jacket on and helmet in hand. Mitch just smiled at him and took the helmet and bag. "You must be warm; why don't you take off your jacket?" Richie knew it wasn't a suggestion and shrugged off his jacket and handed it over. "I thought we'd start slow and just watch a movie today." He put an arm around the boy and led him to the couch, then joined him after he put in a comedy movie. The two sat side by side for two hours. When the movie was over Mitch turned off the television and looked at Richie with a twinkle in his eye. "You look so tense. Let me rub your back."

"I'm fine," Richie insisted.

"Nonsense," he smiled at him as he stood up. "Lie on your stomach and let me help you relax a little." Slowly Richie positioned himself on the couch and Mitch straddled him and began to massage the teen. "It's hard through this sweater." He slowly slid his hands under the warm wool and onto the teen's clammy skin. "You feel so hot, why don't you cool down." The next thing Richie knew he was shirtless and Mitch was still on top of him. After nearly an hour Mitch decided he was bored. "So, Richie, what have you been up to all these years?" He asked lying down between Richie and the back of the couch and wrapping his arms tightly around the boy.

"Nothing," Richie answered.

"You must have been doing something. Why did you forge your records?"

"Because."

"What did you do that was so horrible?"

"I dropped out," Richie told him not willing to give him anything more to hold over him.

"You know, you're not being very nice." Mitch's tone suggested he was pleased with his next idea. "I think you need to be punished." Richie sighed and didn't say anything as Mitch slid out from behind him, rolled him over and resumed his straddle. "But I don't believe in negative reinforcement, that doesn't help anything at all. I believe that you can change someone's behavior by loving them no matter what." He pinned Richie down to the couch and leaned in and started kissing him along his neck and face. At first Richie shied away from the man, but soon resigned to his fate and just let him continue his one sided make-out session. "You know what would be fun?" Mitch suddenly asked.

"Leaving?"

"No, come with me." Mitch got up and took Richie by the hand leading him into the bedroom. Richie stood motionless as he rummaged in the drawers and proudly held up bonds that Richie had only seen in prono magazines. "Lay down," he instructed. Richie didn't move. "Lay down, Richie." Richie didn't even blink. "Fine, if you won't play along, neither will I." Mitch moved for the phone and only stopped when he heard the mattress springs squeak. "Now that's better. You have to remember, Richie, I love you, but if you make this difficult I'm going to have to call the police," he said as he secured Richie's wrists to the headboard and his ankles together. "It's more fun if you struggle."

"What's the point? You're not going to let me go."

"But it's more fun that way. And the happier I am the more willing I'll be to let you go home."

"Yeah, right."

"So rude. Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

"Apparently not."

"I don't like your attitude."

"I don't like you," Richie shot back.

They argued back and forth until Richie announced that he had to go because he had errands to run and he had to be home by six for dinner. Reluctantly Mitch untied him and allowed him to dress and leave.

"Did you get your work done?" Duncan asked.

"Most of it," Richie lied.

"Good. So going to the library worked for you, huh?"

"Library?" Richie repeated. "I mean, yeah. Yeah it was a good idea."

"Do you think you're going to start doing that more?"

"What's with all the questions?" Richie snapped. "It's not that fascinating. I just did some homework!"

Duncan looked at Richie in shock. "I'm sorry, I wasn't aware that talking to you was such a big deal. I was just trying to make conversation."

"I was just trying to make conversation," Richie mimicked back. "Make conversation with someone who cares."

"Hey, I don't know why you're so angry all of a sudden but take it out on someone else."

Richie's mind raced for something to say. He knew he was close to getting what he wanted. "You're just as good as anybody else."

"Except I control your coming and going. And if you want to be able to leave anytime in the near future I'd suggest you tell me what your problem is."

"I don't have a problem."

"Richie, I'm warning you."

"Richie, I'm warning you," Richie mimicked. "Please, Mac. You're not as threatening as you think."

"A mon-"

"Duncan," Tessa interrupted from the doorway. "I need to speak with you. Richie, will you excuse us?"

"Oh, of course," Richie replied with as much attitude as possible. "By all means." Richie went into his room. "Damn!" he hissed. He had been so close to getting grounded. Next time he'd just have to try harder.