Connor wasn't here today. Michael and Mary hadn't even gone to tutoring. Jude had shown up early – he had gone shopping to get his hair dye before heading to the Centre. When he had dropped into his usual bean bag chair, he noticed that Connor wasn't in his usual spot. Jude had stared around, trying to covertly see where he could be sitting instead. Except there was no Connor and now Jude didn't know what to do. It was Tuesday and Connor was supposed to be here.

He slid his cards into his pocket and picked up the small bag he carried around now, due to Connor's book, and straightened up. He doubted Connor was avoiding him after the weekend. Connor seemed like the type of person that would show up to tutoring, even if he didn't want to see Jude, and Jude couldn't really think of a reason that Connor would want to avoid him. They were fine when he left and there was no reason it shouldn't be fine now. Jude held his breath and then walked out the door, catching the bus. He got off at Connor's stop and stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked up to the front door. He made sure that there was no car in the driveway – he didn't want to meet Connor's father today – and then he went up to the door and knocked.

He waited and then he heard a voice from inside.

"I swear, if that's you at the door – I am not a child! I –" The door swung open and Jude was face to face with Connor. "It's a friend from school. Yes. Dad! … I …" Connor held his finger up to his mouth and then tilted the phone down. "What time did your mom say you could stay over until?"

"Oh. Um, I should … leave around eight."

"Eight. He'll hang out with me until eight and so you can stay at work and I … I am not about to croak! I …" Connor rolled his eyes and then gestured Jude inside.

Jude watched him walk down the hallway and then he stepped inside. Jude put his shoes into the pile by the front door and then followed Connor's voice into the living room. His friend was sitting on the couch in a nest of blankets, a mess of dishes on the coffee table in front of him. Connor was still on the phone.

"Dad, I am fine and I know you have to work. I know. I'm fine! I … Dad, I am hanging up now. Text me but you don't need to call me every hour … Yeah, okay, and if I spontaneously combust, I'm sure Jude's smart enough to dial 911 … Bye, Dad."

Connor hung up the phone and threw it onto the coffee table where it dinged against a glass.

"I'm not contagious anymore," he said, "but Dad wanted me to take an extra day off. I think he'd feel bad too if I threw up on Ms. Adams."

"You have the flu?"

"Guess so," Connor said. "I really am feeling fine. You don't have to worry."

"I just wondered why you didn't show up," Jude said. "You know, if something happened to you, I wouldn't find out."

"If I ended up in the hospital or something, I'd get Ms. Adams to send you a note with Mariana. It's a good thing you stand out from a crowd," Connor joked, and he fluffed Jude's hair.

"Yeah, I need to fix it. My roots are coming in."

"You look fine."

"Thanks, you liar." Jude took a seat on the couch, shoving a blanket out of the way and onto Connor's legs. "So, I'm staying until eight?"

"Only if you want to. Dad worries when I'm left alone which is kind of funny considering how much he leaves me alone."

"It's not like I have anything to do."

"Kicked out of your house again?" Connor guessed.

"No, but my guardian's still mad at me and so I just don't feel comfortable. As comfortable, I guess. I don't know if I'd ever call it a comfy home or anything." Jude closed his mouth, feeling like he had said too much, but Connor just nodded.

"I've been living off toast but if you're hungry there's food in the kitchen."

"No, not right now. You might want to eat more than toast for dinner."

"Well, you'll be here. You can make me," Connor said.

"Are you really feeling okay?"

"Do I not look okay?"

He really didn't look any different than he normally did. Bright eyes, pale skin, slightly shaking hands. It was just Connor.

"Was it a bad flu?" Jude asked.

"Yeah. I didn't have a great weekend," Connor said quickly. "What about you?"

"Quiet, long. I sat at the beach and tried to read a chapter by myself on Saturday," Jude confessed.

"And?"

"It's hard to read inside your head, you know? It's what people always do but it's hard. I felt like too much of a weirdo to sit there and read out loud, though. I kind of made it through. I'm sure you'll have a bunch of stuff to correct me on."

"You're doing great with the reading."

"You're just saying that." Jude reached into his bag and dug out the book, the dictionary, and the sticky notes, wedging them between two plates. "I'm going to get something to drink and then I'll read to you, okay?"

"You don't have to. You just got here."

"I know you like it," Jude said, "and I want you to feel better."

"Thanks."

"You want anything?" Jude said.

"Orange juice," Connor said, grabbing one of the empty glasses. "Thanks. I'm glad you came to check on me."

"I guess that's what happen when you only have one friend," Jude said.

"I'm going to pretend you'd do the same thing if you had a million friends," Connor said. "I'm going to pretend it's because I'm me.'

Jude didn't reply; he just ducked into the kitchen. It was because Connor was right. Even if he had a million friends, it was Connor that he would rather be right next to. Even if Jude came down with the flu, he would rather have spent this afternoon with Connor. It was a little scary to consider, the feelings that fluttered in his stomach too strong and too foreign, but Jude did like how Connor made him feel. He wished he didn't have to hide it but he almost couldn't imagine living in a world where he didn't have to, where he could tell Connor that he liked him and maybe they'd actually kiss and maybe Jude might have more than a friend.

Jude thought he could more easily picture a world where dragons existed than a world where he could have Connor as a boyfriend.

With juice in their glasses, Jude carried it back into the living room. He put them down and sat on the couch. Connor had draped himself in blankets, one across his lap and once across his shoulders. Jude grabbed the dictionary, sticky notes, and a pen, putting them in Connor's hands.

"Also, there's one word right away that I don't know," Jude said.

"Auspicious," Connor guessed before Jude had even opened the book.

"Do you even need me?" Jude asked.

Connor grinned in a lopsided way that made Jude's heart skip a beat. "Yes."

Well, that made Jude's heart stop completely.

Connor was already rifling through the dictionary. "It means promising success, propitious, opportune, favourable."

"Just write down the first one," Jude said. "I definitely don't know what the second one means."

"Okay, okay," Connor agreed, already scribbling. "We could just look it up in the dictionary."

"No way. You'd chase that thing in circles."

"Don't you think the word choice is interesting?"

Jude just rolled his eyes. "I think you think about this book too much."

"I have an essay to write," Connor said, pulling the blanket up even further toward his cheeks. "About the book."

"Can't you do that in your sleep?"

"I don't know what to say." Connor adjusted himself on the couch and Jude lowered his shoulder so Connor could rest against him, just like he knew Connor would. "I read a lot about this book. Other people's essays and analysis online."

"You're obsessed."

"Probably," Connor agreed. "But it's one of the only things that makes me ask questions like that. Things like word choice and about people and I think that's what teachers always want you to do."

"But it all started with your mom."

"Yeah but I do actually like the book."

"I think I like it too," Jude said. "But I'm not saying anything until I finish it."

"I have to wait until then?"

Jude really hadn't expected Connor to sound so annoyed about it.

"I'm still at the beginning! I have to read more, at least."

"Do you like it so far?"

"Yes. I think Scout asks a lot of questions."

"It's what kids do, right?"

"I guess. It means she's a good writer, then," Jude mused. He ran his hand down the short page. "I've got so far to go."

"Yeah but you've already come so far."

"Thanks."

Connor snuggled closer and then his head lifted. "Hey, sorry, um, you probably don't want the … the … flu."

"You said you're not contagious anymore," Jude said. "I trust you."

And he didn't want Connor to sit up.

"All right. I'll try not to breathe on you too much," Connor promised.

Jude didn't care but there was no weird way to say 'you can breathe on me, it's fine, even though your breath kind of smells like souring orange juice, I still kind of like it'. So, he just started to read. The first paragraph was a nightmare in terms of things that he didn't know and couldn't pronounce. Connor just patiently looked things up for him and helped him clutter the pocket novel with sticky notes until they would have to be moved around to read the lines underneath. Connor snuggled into his blankets and pulled his body closer to Jude's.

"Are you cold?"

"I just want to feel comfortable," Connor said, "and I like being warm."

"Cold isn't bad. It's blue. I like blue."

"Yeah, clearly. Why did you pick blue, anyway?"

"What else would I pick? It's my favourite colour, which is the simple answer, I guess."

Connor's blankets spilled across Jude's lap. "What's the complicated answer?"

"It's poetic," Jude said. "You know what blue symbolizes."

"The thing about symbols, is that they can mean basically anything. Look." Connor grabbed his phone and looked up what does blue symbolize. "See: sea, sky, depth, stability, trust, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, intelligence, faith, truth, heaven. And that's just from the Google blurb! And not about anything specific."

"Okay, okay," Jude said. "I get your point."

"Are you trying to tell me you're stable?"

"Hardly," Jude scoffed.

"I'd call you trustworthy. A little hard on the trusting maybe."

"I trust you."

"I know."

"And I'm really not confident or smart or whatever else you said."

"I'd say you'd have to be pretty confident to wear blue hair," Connor said. "And I think you're really smart. Don't underestimate yourself."

"Maybe," Jude said. He reached down and grabbed one of Connor's blankets, pulling it completely over his lap. "Anyway, you're not the only one who gets to be comfortable."

Connor laughed and, before Jude could react, Connor reached out with both arms, encircling him in a hug and engulfing him in the mass of comforters he was draped in. Jude almost pulled away. His body ached from an ancient beating as he thought about what might happen if this moment happened anywhere else and then his stomach fluttered with butterflies that weren't nerves and he let Connor hug him. He yanked the blanket up around him.

"It feels like the desert under here!"

"I could live in the desert!"

"It's not even cold here."

Connor poked the spine of the book into Jude's thigh. "Whatever. Come on, finish the chapter."

"The chapter? It's, like, ten pages."

"You can finish ten pages. They're small pages."

"And small print!" Jude said, but he almost lost his voice. Connor's arm was still resting against his stomach. It was like he was still being held and that was all he could think about. How was he supposed to read when that much of Connor was touching him? Connor's expectations of him were clearly too high.

"You can do it. You've got a couple of hours until Dad gets home."

Jude really didn't like the thought of meeting Connor's father. He couldn't imagine what he was like. Connor only really talked about his mother, unless it was to say how his father was overprotective and liked to yell. Jude had glanced at the few family photographs that were around the house. Connor's father looked like a normal man. There was nothing else he could say until he had actually come face to face with him and he wanted to avoid doing that for as long as possible. He really didn't think that Connor's father would like him. He had no experience playing nice with parents but with the way that strangers looked at him on the bus, he could only imagine how judgemental someone would be if he was actually friends with their kid.

Connor prodded him again and Jude finally settled down to try and read. It was slow going, as it usually was, but it was made worse by the fact that every time Connor moved, Jude fumbled over his words. He wished he still thought Connor was straight because, now, he kept wondering if Connor could possibly know about Jude's crush and he kept wondering if there was more behind Connor's actions. At least when Jude thought Connor was straight, he would think that something like this was totally innocent. Now, he was overwhelmed by the fact that it might not be. It probably was. Connor probably didn't have a crush on him. There was no reason for him to. Jude didn't even really get why Connor wanted to be his friend but he wouldn't ever bring himself to really question it, either, just in case it made Connor change his mind.

He dedicated himself to reading for a solid hour but, by the end of it, his head was swimming and he couldn't look at the page. It was Connor who marked the page and shut the book for him.

"Have you eaten?" Jude asked. "Do you need crackers or something? Soup? That's what sick people eat, right?"

Connor laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. I haven't been feeling very hungry. I guess I probably should."

"I'm here. I can make you something. You should eat."

Connor was smiling at him. "You're my favourite mother hen, you know?"

"I'm not a mother hen. Come on. What do you want?"

"Toast, I think, that's what sick people eat, right?"

Jude rolled his eyes and hopped off the couch, turning and holding his hands out to Connor. Connor put his hands in Jude's and Jude helped him up, trying not to pull too hard. Connor looked fragile and felt even more so. Once he was on his feet, he waved for a moment and Jude kept his hand on Connor's for a moment too long, and then he yanked his hand away from Connor's, feeling his skin burn. He wanted to kiss a boy. He wanted to hold a boy's hand. He wanted to not be afraid of having a boyfriend and knowing what that meant. And, he wanted that boy to be Connor. His heart actually hurt from how bad he wanted it and Jude forced himself to walk into the kitchen.

"Just toast?" he asked over his shoulder. "Or plain scrambled eggs too? Eggs are good for you."

"If you want scrambled eggs, sure. I'm not picky. If you're going to make something else, I'm good with toast."

Jude pulled the eggs out of the fridge and put them on the counter. "We can do breakfast for supper. We know I can make it."

"Thanks for cooking. If you weren't here, I probably wouldn't have gotten off the couch."

"If I wasn't here, your dad probably would have come home earlier."

"Probably," Connor agreed, taking a comforter and spreading it on the floor before sitting down. "But he needs to work. He doesn't like it but he has to."

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean."

Jude cracked some eggs into a bowl, grabbing for a frying pan. It was quiet as he worked and he really didn't like it. He glanced over his shoulder at Connor, who was just sitting in his blankets, all wrapped up.

"Can you talk about something? I don't like the quiet."

"Sure. I still haven't figured out what I'm writing my essay on, which is annoying. We're supposed to start working on our first drafts in class next Monday and I am drawing a total blank and that's frustrating. But, I've also been avoiding thinking about it. I think it's going to be harder to write an essay on this book because I love it so much."

"It's an obsession."

"That too," Connor agreed. He wrapped his arms around his legs. "You were in my dream last night."

Jude nearly dropped the carton of eggs. "Um, what kind of dream?"

"One of those weird ones. There was a carnival but I was trapped in a bubble and couldn't go but you were trying to give me cotton candy anyway. Your hair was glowing blue in my dream too. And that's all I remember."

"I'm dying it again tonight, probably after I get home. Next time you see me, it'll look better," Jude promised, and he poured the eggs into the frying pan.

"How long does it take to dye?"

"Like, half an hour to put the dye in, an hour for it to sit, and then I shower it out. The whole thing takes about two hours."

"And the blue hair is worth the time?"

"Absolutely. It's something I like that I actually get to have."

"Want me to help?" Connor asked. "We have time before Dad gets home."

"Really?"

"Why not? I can repay you for dinner."

"Promise you won't throw up in my hair?"

"Pinkie promise."

"Okay, maybe." Jude dropped bread in the toaster. "Do you want to eat at the couch?"

"I've been living on that couch all weekend."

"Is that a no?"

Jude turned at the sound of a loud 'meow'. Jellybean had come strutting into the kitchen.

"Summoned by food," Connor said. "You can't eat any of this, Jelly."

Jude felt paws against his thigh as Jellybean stretched up on her back legs.

"It won't stop her from asking, though," Connor added.

Jude patted the top of her head but it was clearly not what she wanted from him and she dropped down on all four paws to go sit with Connor.

"Food's done," Jude said. "Do you want anything on your toast?"

"Just butter."

"Do you have peanut butter?"

"Cupboard right in front of – No! Not that one! To your left!"

Jude drew his hand back, almost afraid of Connor's outburst. He hesitantly wrapped his hand around the handle to the other cupboard door, opening it slowly to reveal a collection of condiments and cooking spices. He pulled the peanut butter out of the cupboard and spread it across his first piece of toast.

"I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's fine." Jude glanced at the cupboard. If he were a worse person, he'd simply throw it open now or resolve to snoop the next time he had a chance.

He heard Connor get up but he didn't turn around. He just listened to Connor's footsteps get closer and closer until Connor was standing directly behind him.

"No, I really am sorry."

Connor's genuine tone made Jude around, looking to Connor's face. Connor was staring at Jude's still healing cheek.

"I really don't like the thought of you thinking I was mean to you."

"It's your house. You've got the right to tell me to stay out of stuff."

"I just don't want to be someone else that yells at you."

"You don't get bruises from yelling," Jude muttered darkly.

He went to turn back to the peanut butter but Connor's sweaty fingers wrapped around his wrist and held Jude gently in place. Jude stared as Connor's brow wrinkled, his friends searching for the words. He didn't know if he had ever seen Connor look so serious about something and it made Jude's stomach churn.

"How … I want to … Is there any way I can help with that, Jude? I hate the thought of you being hit and whoever your guardian is –"

Jude held his hand up before Connor could say anything about Callie. He knew that, above all else, would make him turn on his best friend and he absolutely didn't want to do that.

"The only thing you can do is to not try and fix it. It can't be fixed, okay? If I ever … left, if I ever changed anything and someone noticed me, it would destroy my guardian and I love her, Connor. I won't hurt her like that."

Connor nodded but Jude could tell he didn't understand. Jude wanted him to understand, at least a little. He wanted Connor to understand enough.

"I tell you things because I can trust you and I can't trust anyone else. If you try and do the fix-it thing, then I won't be able to tell you anything. I don't need it to be fixed. I just need you to listen. No one ever hears me and I just need someone to hear me."

"I hear you," Connor said. "I promise. And that's all I'll do now is listen. I just thought I'd be a bad friend if I didn't ask once and if I didn't tell you that if you ever did need help, you can come to me."

"You are a good friend," Jude said. "And, thanks."

Connor smiled at him and then let go of his wrist. "Thanks for cooking."

"It's not anything complicated," Jude said, but he was glad for the compliment.

He finished with his peanut butter and then they went back to the couch. Jellybean prowled around the entire time they were eating but Connor had nothing to drop to her and she looked disappointed every time that he reached down to pet her ears. Jude felt a little satisfied that she came over to him to beg for food too but all he did was scratch at her ears. They were done eating before Jude knew it and then he reached up to touch his hair.

He didn't have to have someone help him. Jude had done his own hair before but he always liked to have Callie do it. It kept his hair a lot more even. Callie was also good at it – Connor had probably never tried to dye hair before. Admittedly, it wasn't complicated and it wasn't like Callie was in the mood to help him. Connor was going to have to do a lot of touching him. That was a problem and not a problem, all at the same time.

"So," Connor said, "do you want help with your hair?"

Jude glanced at the clock. They had more than enough time. "Okay. Yeah, I would like help. Thank you."

"You're going to have to tell me what to do," Connor mused, and then his face lit up. "See, Jude, you are teaching me something."

Jude couldn't help but smile at that too. "I guess I am. Do you have a zip-up sweater I can borrow? If I do this in my t-shirt, I'll get dye and water everywhere."

"Makes sense, I have something you can wear."

"Thanks."

"Should we do the dying in the bathroom?"

"Probably," Jude agreed, "unless you think your dad will be less mad about you dying your bedroom."

Connor thought about it and then he shook his head. He and Jude left their dishes with the already large collection on the coffee table and headed upstairs. Connor moved incredibly slowly – Jude likened it to how someone in his seventies might climb stairs but that didn't make any sense at all. Maybe it was from the flu, Jude thought, but he'd never had a flu that had done that to him and it wasn't the first time Jude had thought that, but it seemed to have gotten worse. He almost asked but then he thought that it might embarrass Connor and he kept his mouth shut. When they were in Connor's room, Connor quickly tossed him a sweater out of his closet.

Jude turned his back on Connor and stripped his shirt off, quickly climbing into the hoodie. Would it be worse to know that Connor was looking or worse to know that he hadn't bothered? Not that Jude thought that Connor really would look at him change. Connor seemed to be too good of a person for that. He just didn't think that Connor would find anything in his countable ribs and bony spine. There wasn't anything to look at, even if he wanted Connor to try. He bit his lip and told himself to cool it before he turned around.

"Do you have gloves?" Jude asked.

Connor shook his head. "How hard can dye be to get off, though?"

"I won't ruin the surprise for you," Jude mused and Connor laughed.

Jude fished the dye out of his bag and put it into Connor's hands. Connor turned them over.

"This doesn't seem so hard."

"You have to make sure you cover all my hair. It's, like, putting shampoo in or something. You need to cover it."

"I can do that."

Jude supposed they would find out. He sat on Connor's bathroom floor while Connor sat on top of the closed toilet. Jude looked him up and down.

"You might want to take off the long sleeves. They'll get messy."

Connor bit his lip and stared down at his arms and then he carefully pushed up his sleeves. Jude stared down at the exposed bit of skin, thinking that he had never seen Connor's forearms before – and apparently, there was a very good reason for it. Connor was bruised. Bruised and parts of his arms were rubbed red. Jude just stared for a long moment, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing.

"What happened to you?"

"It's not what it looks like!" Connor blurted.

"Yeah? Because it looks like you're being hit a lot worse than me."

"No one has ever hit me!" Connor said. "Dad definitely never would!"

"How do you look like that with no one hitting you?"

"I have a medical condition," Connor said.

Jude sat back on his heels. "Medical condition?"

Was it serious? Was it why Connor had said his father had spoken about sending him away? At the very least, it might explain why Connor moved like an old man and why Connor always had to work. But, was it serious?

"What kind of medical condition?"

"It's not a big deal. I can just get hurt pretty easy," Connor said. "You know, I get bumped on the bus and I bruise for a week or I trip over something and the swelling takes twice as long to go down."

Jude touched Connor's arm and then recoiled his hand. "How hard does someone have to touch you to do that to you?"

Had they ever been sitting side by side and Jude had nudged Connor with his elbow a little too hard? Had they ever been sitting at a table and Jude had kicked him? Had dropping a book on his lap been enough to do it?

"Not super hard. Sometimes leaning on hard floors can bruise my knees," Connor admitted.

Jude squinted. "So, this happens all over your entire body?"

"Yeah. It's fine, Jude. It's been like this for a long time. I live with it. Not a big deal."

"Why wouldn't you just tell me?"

"I don't really advertise it. And it doesn't stop me from doing this. And I didn't think you were ever going to punch me in the face or anything like that."

"I might've," Jude muttered.

"Yeah, when?"

"When I first saw you. You look … I mean, I thought you looked like a jerk."

"Me?"

Jude nodded, even though it was embarrassing to admit now. Connor was the total opposite of a jerk. He felt his cheeks flush. "You know, the kids from Anchor Beach are always so pretentious, looking down at us. I just thought … I mean, you dressed so preppy too."

To Jude's relief, Connor laughed. "I hope you don't think I'm a jerk now."

"No, not at all." Jude flipped Connor's arm over. "What's this red stuff?"

"Tripped on my way to the bus. Caught myself on a concrete stair. It's just a rash, Jude."

"How do I avoid hurting you?"

"You don't. Hurt me, that is," Connor hurriedly added, and Jude felt like he must have had some kind of expression on his face to spur that on. "Like I said, just don't punch me and we'll be fine."

"Promise?"

"I'm not going to break."

"Promise?" Jude repeated.

"Pinkie promise," Connor said, looping his finger around Jude's for just the briefest moment and sending Jude on the smallest spiral of what it would be like to hold his hand until he got himself under control. "Come on, let's see what this hair dye is all about."

Jude watched Connor crack the jar open and sniff it. "Don't dye your nose."

Connor shrugged. "I thought it would smell like chemicals. It almost smells like fruit."

"Yeah, some brands do smell like chemicals but I like this one. Plus, it sticks better. That's important."

Connor nodded. "Where should I start?"

"Usually I start with the front and work my way to the back. If I run short on dye, I'd rather it be the back of my head."

"Okay," Connor said, and Jude thought he looked nervous. "Here we go."

Jude closed his eyes as he felt the dye touch his hair. "Try not to get my face too much."

"I'll do my best."

Jude had no doubt he would. Still, he tried not to look, just tilting his head this way and that as Connor massaged his head.

"This looks really blue on skin," Connor mused.

"Told you, gloves."

"Yeah, yeah," Connor said. "Next time, I guess, if I don't screw this one up."

"You can't really screw it up that bad."

"Let's see," Connor said. "Can you turn around? I think I'm ready to get the back of your head."

It didn't take long to get Jude's short hair covered in dye. When Connor was done, Jude promptly stood up and inspected his reflection, turning his head to side to side.

"I think it looks good," he said. "Thanks for helping."

"So, you just sit around for a while?"

"Yeah. I have to make sure that it sticks to my hair. Want to go start a movie or something?"

"Watch your hair," Connor warned.

"I know, I know. I'm used to it. You couldn't imagine how much trouble I'd be in at home if I got dye anywhere."

"I can imagine."

Connor rolled down his sleeves and Jude just stared. The thought of Connor's bruises made his stomach hurt, the same way that looking at the bruises on his own face made his stomach hurt. He didn't like it. He didn't think it was fair. He didn't have anything he could do about it. He couldn't fix Connor's medical condition any more than he could fix his home life. Still, the thought of both made him feel restless and unsettled.

"You might not, actually," Jude said.

Connor just nodded and fidgeted. "So, let's go."

Jude followed him back downstairs, sitting up straight on the couch. It made his back ache and he wished that he could flop like Connor was doing and bury himself in the blankets. Instead, he had to stay in place until his hour was up.

"How do you wash it out?"

"Shower or just hang my head under a tap," Jude answered. "Can I have a towel? Something that I can dye blue?"

"Yeah. Dad has a bunch of dark towels." Connor sat up and grabbed at his abdomen. Jude opened his mouth to ask but Connor shoved himself off the couch with a look of determination. "They're just in the hall closet, I'll show you. Though I'm assuming you can shower by yourself."

"Yeah, I've had that part figured out for a while, thanks," Jude said in a deadpan.

"Just checking."

Jude felt bad for making Connor head back up the stairs just to hand him a towel. Then, he sealed himself inside of the bathroom. Jude turned on the shower and pulled off Connor's hoodie. He just bent over the side and rinsed his hair slowly under the tap. There was less spray when he did it, which mean there would be less blue dye for him to chase down the drain. He couldn't eave Connor's house a mess. He wanted to move quickly, since he wanted to be downstairs with Connor, but he also knew he couldn't rush it. In the end, he just felt anxious as he moved his head under the water, making sure that it ran clear. Like he had done last weekend, he stole a little bit of condition and rubbed it through his hair, rinsing that out too. He turned off the water and grabbed for his towel, wrapping it around his head before he could drip it anywhere. He towel-dried his hair as best as he could before he looked at it in the mirror.

Connor had done a much better job than either of them were probably expecting him to. He fluffed up the damp strands, admiring how the blue looked in the light. He looked exactly how he wanted to and there was a sense of calm to that. He had control over something and he had controlled it well. Jude spent another minute admiring it and then he looped the towel over the top of the shower, grabbed Connor's sweater, and ducked into Connor's bedroom. He switched the sweater for his shirt and he wished that he had a good reason to keep it but it wasn't cold and he didn't want to seem desperate.

He thudded down the stairs.

"How's it look?" Connor called.

"Great! You did great!" Jude said, heading into the living room. He leant on the back of the couch and glanced at the clock. "Your dad is supposed to be here in fifteen."

"I know." Connor looked up at him. "I just don't want you to go."

"You'll be back on Thursday, right?" Jude said. "You know, for tutoring."

"Yeah. Back to school tomorrow and then back to tutoring on Thursday. I really could have gone back today but Dad went into overprotective mood again so here I am."

Jude nodded. Connor had said but the information sounded different when he thought about the bruising on Connor's arms. "So, he's overprotective because of the medical condition?"

"Yeah and because Mom died and because I'm his only kid. The medical condition isn't really bad enough for him to freak out over."

"What's it called, anyway?"

"It's just something to do with my blood, some kind of, um, deficiency. That's all there is to it. Doesn't bother me in any other way."

Jude rested his head on his elbow and stared at Connor. He wanted to believe that Connor wasn't downplaying what he had but Connor hadn't even told him that he was even the slightest bit sick in the first place. He bit down on his lip. He really didn't have anything to say.

"You sure you don't want to hang out a bit longer?" Connor pressed.

Jude wanted to say yes but it wasn't really an option for him. "I'll see you on Thursday. I'm going to try and get the next chapter down."

"Good luck," Connor said. "I want you to like it."

"I think I already do."

Connor smiled at him and Jude's stomach fluttered, even though he was sure that he should have been used to Connor smiling at him.

"You better be around on Thursday."

"If I wasn't, would you come check up on me again?"

"Of course."

"It's not fair. If you didn't show up one day, I really wouldn't know what happened to you."

"I would never not show up," Jude said. "I think my guardian would move me in there if she could." Well, maybe not. Callie might not actually let him out of her sight for that long.

"What if you get sick?"

"Won't," Jude promised. "I'll see you Thursday."

"Say goodbye to Jelly or she'll be offended."

Jude scratched the cat on the ears and headed to the front door. To Jude's surprise, Connor was once again off the couch and followed him to the front door.

"I know how to get out," Jude joked.

"I know." Connor just watched him as he pulled his shoes on and grabbed his bag. "I guess I really don't want you to go."

"Why?"

"I like you being here. Even when Dad's around, it's lonely. I just like being around you. What's so bad about that?"

Jude couldn't find any fault with it except for the fact that it was how he felt about Connor. It made his spirit lift because Connor felt the same way and it tore him down because it still didn't matter. Connor could say everything that Jude wanted to hear and feel everything that Jude wanted him to feel and it wouldn't make a difference. He wondered if Connor had been sent to him to help him or hurt him.

"I get it. I'll see you on Thursday. I'd stay if I could but …"

"But my dad scares you."

"I'm not scared. I'm just … super freaked out by the thought of meeting him which is why I'm going to leave now before he gets home and your dad has me trapped here for a round of questioning."

"All right but we'll talk about it on Thursday."

"Okay."

Jude hated to turn his back on Connor and leaving, skulking across his friend's front lawn. He was glad he left when he did because the moment he was off Connor's property, a car pulled into the driveway. Jude pulled his hood of his tight sweater up over his head and made it to the bus stop. He hopped on the bus and he just felt so tired when he thought of the attic apartment. The exhaustion wasn't a new feeling. He generally felt repulsed and annoyed, if not flat out scared, when he thought about going back to the apartment, but never before had he just felt the feeling of not wanting to be there. It was supposed to be home. Callie was supposed to be home.

The lights of the lower house were all on when Jude crept around the back. He peeked his head up and looked through the window on the back door, seeing no one. He knew better than to move slowly. He popped the back door open and shut it as quietly as possible and took off up the attic stairs. He threw that door open and then shut it, locking it tightly behind him. It was only ever locked when he was in the apartment.

"Jude? Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?"

"I went to the Centre today."

Jude stopped in the middle of the living room as Callie leant out of the bathroom.

"Why? Why would you go to the Centre?" Jude asked.

"I just wanted to see if you were there or if I could see what your friend looked like but I didn't see you and so I'm guessing I didn't see your friend either. I thought you might be with your tutor."

"You really can't expect me to stay at that place all day every day. You have to know that I do other things."

"I want to know where you are."

"At all times? Unless you're going to chip me, that's impossible, and it's not like you knowing where I am is going to keep me safe! I'm safer literally anywhere else than in here! And you know it, which is why you keep sending me to the Centre!"

Jude wanted to pound his head against the wall. The same argument for years, since they had moved in here.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?"

Callie didn't sound angry and that was what made Jude's blood run cold. Callie tried to be unemotional but she never achieved it.

"Do you want to go back into the foster system? Do you want to be the reason I go to prison? Is that the price you want to pay? Because I would go to prison for protecting you, remember?"

Jude swallowed hard. It was hard to forget. He'd just been eleven when they'd had to run, almost twelve, but still technically eleven. He hadn't really been aware of what had happening. He had been hiding under the kitchen table, his arms around his skinny legs, hoping that he didn't have to get hurt again, and then there was Callie, telling him exactly that. Her face was still imprinted boldly in his mind – childish with still rounded cheeks and terror in her eyes and blood on her cheeks. She had told him not to look and he hadn't as they had run out the front door.

"I remember," he whispered.

"What do you want me to do, Jude? There's no way out. At least here, at least after that first time, you've been safe."

Jude nodded. "I know. But I'm being safe out there. You don't have to worry."

"Maybe I should chip you," Callie mused.

"Really?"

"No, I don't think I could get you to hold still long enough."

For the first time in a long time, Jude and Callie were smiling at one another.

"Maybe a cheap cell phone," Callie said. "But you would have to answer every time I called."

"You'd let me have a phone?"

"Maybe. Would you answer it?"

Jude nodded.

"We'll see. I'll try and get Nic to give me a second one."

Jude resented that. He didn't want anything that would let Nic dig his claws any further into Callie.

She walked out of the bathroom. "So, where were you?"

"My friend was sick. I went to make sure he was okay and then I read some of the book that Mariana lent me to him. It's a really hard book but I'm doing okay with it."

"Your hair looks different. Did you dye it?"

"He helped," Jude admitted, because he wasn't going to lie to her and pick a fight over something that small.

"You be careful with who you trust."

Jude looked down at the floor. "He doesn't know about you. I'm smarter than that."

Callie kissed his forehead. "Go to bed. Nic's taking me out tonight."

"A job?"

"A date."

That was worse.

"I'll try not to wake you up when I come in."

"If," Jude said. Just because Callie preferred to spend her nights upstairs, keeping a sleeping guard next to him, didn't mean that she didn't sometimes stay on the first floor with Nic in his room.

"Lock the door behind me."

Jude nodded and did as she asked. Then, he changed out of his clothes and into his pyjamas, curling up tightly on his side of the bed, as if Callie were on her side to tell him to stay out of her space. He stared blankly toward the door but he didn't know what he expected. He was mostly ignored now, thanks to Callie's influence. They weren't about to stop being paranoid but Jude knew that if they were going to decide to pick on him, it would be while Callie was out of town with Nic, not while she was downstairs, able to know if someone was heading up the attic steps.

Jude pulled his pillow into his arms and thought of Connor. He wondered what his friend was doing right now. It was early for bed but Connor did say he was tired a lot. Was that another symptom of the medical condition? Jude didn't know and he felt like he had more questions to ask Connor about that but he knew that Connor would shut down his questions, just as he had done earlier today. Jude had to trust Connor but, even though they were supposed to be friends, that was still easier said than done. He didn't trust easily. Jude pulled his knees up closer to his stomach and took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Time to go to bed.

Those of you who have followed my other stories, you probably can guess where this is going: playlist! I'll be releasing two or so songs with every chapter. If you have a song that reminds you of The Island Of Misfit Toys and would like it to be on the playlist, send it in and let me know! I'd love to hear your playlist suggestions. This weeks songs are: Going To Be Wonderful by Tom Rosenthal and Join The Club by Bring Me The Horizon.

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about The Island Of Misfit Toys, go to my tumblr URL and add backslash tagged backslash the dash island dash of dash misfit dash toys. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~