If he had a therapist, they'd probably say, "Holding all this anger inside isn't healthy. You have to let it out."

Well, he'd tried that, and where'd it get him? Suspended and sitting around the last place he wanted to be: home.

Home, where Amy's pictures are everywhere she isn't, where the air seems too thin to breathe, where his parents stare right through him while they try to pretend their entire world isn't revolving around Amy.

But come to think of it, the therapist would probably say something else entirely. "Nobody cares, Bright. Amy's problems are more interesting, anyway."

***

When he finally goes back to school, he sees her in the hall and walks past without a second glance. He's being selfish and immature, everything he'd accused her of being, but she deserves it. She deserves to be ignored by someone, to feel how much it hurts.

But it's impossible to see the expression on her face when his very point is to ignore her. He can't get any satisfaction if he doesn't know if she even saw him walk by. Maybe it doesn't bother her. Maybe it doesn't matter if you're invisible to someone who's already invisible himself.

***

Bright's been driving seemingly aimlessly for half an hour before he realizes he's been looking for Ephram. Only, it's not like it was before, because he's not going to turn a corner and see Ephram and his bike just ahead.

Ephram has a license now, a girlfriend, a life. He doesn't really need Bright like he did before, and that thought's almost discouraging enough to make him turn around and head back home. But when he gets to the next intersection, he turns left onto Ephram's street. Because even if Ephram doesn't need him anymore, right now, Bright needs Ephram.

***

Delia opens the door, wide-eyed like she got everything she'd wanted for Christmas and her birthday. It makes his heart clench, and how pathetic is it that he feels better than he has in weeks?

"Hey, Deels. What's up?"

"You here to see Ephram?" she asks when he peers around her.

"Nah," Bright says. "Don't tell Ephram, but I came by to see you. He might get jealous if you stole his friend like that, though."

"Who is it, Delia?" Ephram yells.

"I guess I have to talk to him now." When he winks, Delia laughs, and Bright steps inside.

***

When he gets one look at Bright, Ephram sits up quickly, already looking concerned. "Hey. What's wrong?"

Bright has to clear his throat before he can speak. "I, um, have to get out of here for a while. I'm leaving now."

And he doesn't know he's going to say it or had even been thinking it until it comes out. "Will you come with me?"

Ephram starts, and Bright sucks in a breath. This is it. He's not going to ask again, and he needs Ephram to go along with it no questions asked, or not go along at all.

***

Bright's been sitting in the car for five minutes when Ephram opens the passenger door, tossing his backpack into the floorboard. He considers asking Ephram what he told his family or Madison, but he doesn't really want to know.

He hopes Ephram doesn't ask him where they're going, because he isn't sure. Anywhere that isn't here. Somewhere he's never been before. Ephram doesn't ask, though; he just buckles his seatbelt and slaps the dashboard twice. "Let's get out of here," he says.

So Bright drives, and when they pass Everwood's city limits, he finally feels like he can breathe again.

***

He ends up heading west, because that seems the natural way of things, the place to go for a fresh start. It probably has something to do with the ocean, and Bright thinks he'd like to see it now, find out how cold the water is in winter.

Two hours in, Ephram falls asleep with his cheek pressed against the window, without having said anything since he'd gotten in. That's okay with Bright, though, because they'll have plenty of time to talk later. For now he's fine with Ephram's silent presence alone, because it says more than words could, anyway.

***

Ephram wakes hours later, the slam of his car door alerting Bright that he's up. He sits next to Bright on the tailgate and they stare at the sunrise together.

"Nice sunrise," Ephram says, voice scratchy.

Bright hands him the chocolate milk he'd been drinking. "Yeah."

"You want to talk?"

"Not yet."

Ephram nods, and a minute later he slides off the tailgate and heads into the convenience store. Bright blinks into the sun, flashes of light imprinted on the insides of his eyelids, and wishes he didn't have to face the place he'd left behind to see the sunrise.

***

Bright falls asleep while Ephram drives, and when he wakes up, the car is stopped, the sun is high, and his face is mashed uncomfortably where Ephram's had been during the night. Ephram's pulling the keys out of the ignition when Bright yawns and looks over.

"Come on," Ephram says. "I got us a room. You can sleep or talk. Just...not in here."

Bright looks around, suprised, and sees that they're at one of those cheap old motels that are generally the only ones available in small towns.

"Yeah, okay," he agrees, and gets out to follow Ephram inside.

***

Bright wakes with no concept of how much time's passed. Heavy, smoke-saturated curtains block out any light, but he tenses when he realizes Ephram's touching his hair, carding his fingers through it. Ephram must sense the change, because he pulls back immediately.

"Don't stop," Bright whispers, can hear the desperation in his voice. Ephram returns his hand, touch tentative, and Bright begins to talk. "My mom always used to do that, try to tame my hair when I was little. I don't remember when she gave up."

Ephram strokes Bright's hair, making him solid and real, and Bright keeps talking.

END.