I've only ever worked the late shift with Alex before but Anastasia runs things about the same. As soon as I punch my card, she puts me to work replacing the header panel on a Dodge Journey.

Just from one glance, I know she's curious about why my face is fucked up but I'm on a strict don't-ask-don't-tell policy. And sometimes, my policy is closer to ask-and-I'll-bullshit. Either way, I'm not telling her anything. There's no point in dragging anyone else into my secret hell. Even if the Moreno family are all I'll have left by this time next year…

I push my thoughts aside and get started with the car, my hands picking up every bit of oil and grease possible. It's quiet in the shop as we work, the customers long gone by now. It's only at this time of day that we truly have the shop to ourselves.

Anastasia comes to my workspace a couple of times to see how I'm doing. We don't talk even when she stands next to the car for several minutes. Eventually, she moves back to her car and I keep working on mine.

After the Dodge is finished, I move on to a Toyota Matrix, putting a new bumper on in place of its broken one, and Anastasia disappears into the office. Probably filling out paperwork or something. I dig my phone out of my uniform pocket and deposit it on the empty stool.

Pandora is still queued up on the '00s station from the last time I used this app so I let it play, flopping down onto my shop creeper.

A Good Charlotte track starts playing out from my phone's tinny speakers and I find myself easily nodding along to it. The whole feel of this station reminds me of Kwan and I coming home after middle school. We'd crash on his bedroom floor and read old editions of comic books his dad kept in the attic.

I remember long days spent at his house, avoiding mine. Kwan always had a way of making me forget. He'd tell me one ridiculous story after another, just trying to keep my mind away from all the dark shit. I almost wish we were back there again. Sprawled out on his bedroom carpet, reading about Batman's latest adventure as pop music blared from his tiny radio. Back then, that was all we needed. We didn't think about our futures beyond who was paying for after-school pizza on Fridays. We weren't concerned with grades or impressing our parents and girls weren't even a blip on our radars yet.

We were the perfect duo and he's still the Robin to my Batman. Y'know, if Robin was gay and Batman was even more fucked up than his comics portrayed.

With a sigh, I push myself out from under the car and stand, rifling through the contents of my toolbox. I've always been good with cars and since Alex trained me, there's rarely been a problem with a machine that I can't fix. My life on the other hand… well, that's an entirely different story.


"Yo, Baxter," Anastasia calls as she leaves the office, the door slamming shut behind her. I don't know how long I've been working but I've just put the new bumper back on the Toyota when her voice rings out through the shop.

I kick my toolbox closed and wipe the residual grease off my hands before glancing up to meet her gaze. A small smile is starting on her face and knowing her, this means one of two things: we're closing early or there's food on the way.

"Alex just called, the part we need for the Nissan won't be delivered until Wednesday so we're cutting early tonight," she says, folding her arms over her chest as she leans back against the Toyota I've just finished. "I've also ordered a pizza and there's a case of beer chilling in the fridge. Come on."

She waves me away from the spot and I follow after her, snatching my phone up from the stool before I leave. "I'm underage, remember?" I call after her, turning the radio off before shoving my phone into my pocket.

Anastasia glances over her shoulder again with a grin. "Oh yeah. Guess you'll be drinking soda tonight, squirt." She called me squirt the first year I worked here but that was before I joined the football team and filled the fuck out. It doesn't really make sense for her to call me it anymore but I just stick my tongue out in response. She tilts her head back in a laugh and continues through the shop, me trailing after her.

"Knowing my brother, he'd probably kill us for eating in the office so we'll head up to the roof." She opens the side door and gestures to a ladder attached to the back of the building that I vaguely remember seeing before. "I'll be back with the drinks, you just get settled up there. Red chair's mine."

She disappears back inside the shop before I can ask any questions. I give the ladder a few tentative shakes but it seems steady. I start to climb it and just avoid looking at the ground until I'm on the roof. My stomach clenches a few times before I glance around the roof, letting out a low breath.

When I look out at the sky, I really wonder why the fuck I've never noticed this spot. I mean, I guess from below, I'd never be able to tell anyone ever comes up here but still. I've worked here long enough to have noticed it at least once.

Two chairs are set up next to each other, one red and one green, along with a cooler between the two. Cigarette butts litter the roof and I try to picture Alex smoking but I really can't see it. Must be Anastasia or whoever else comes up here. I've never smelled it on her before though. It doesn't make any sense. Am I really that oblivious?

"You gonna help me or am I gonna have to make three trips up the ladder?" Anastasia teases and I move closer to the ladder. She holds up a case of beer and after I hesitate a second, I carefully kneel on the roof, stretching my hand down to grab the handle. Once I pull it up and set it on the roof, she holds up a case of Coca-Cola bottles and I take that as well. I carry the drinks over to the chairs as Anastasia calls up that she'll be up with the pizza in a minute.

After I nudge the drinks out of the way, I sink down in the green chair, staring out at the gravel that makes up the back parking lot of the shop. Alex had the front paved but he never cared that much about the back. No one really parks back there anyway, it's really just a place to store the tow-truck.

The dusk air is already cooler than it was in summer and from the feel of it, I can tell we're gonna be in for a pretty cold autumn. Whatever, just more practices where I don't end up sweating my ass off. Knowing Coach, he'd just say the heat was building character.

Being up here is weird. It's so quiet and still for as far as I can see below and it makes me think of how many times Alex or Anastasia sat up here feeling small. Not seeing a car or a light go by, just thinking and wondering late into the night. Neither one of them have ever opened themselves up to questions but maybe that could change a little tonight. Maybe instead of dwelling on my own problems, I can focus on someone else's. Like Keith's earlier. Or Anastasia's now. There's nothing I can do to deal with my own shit and I fucking suck at words, but maybe I can help someone. At least a little.


Anastasia climbs up the ladder one-handedly cause her other hand is holding the pizza. I take it from her when she's close enough and she assures me that she and Alex have done their fair share of one-handed ladder climbing. It still makes me uncomfortable as fuck just watching her.

She swipes the box from me as soon as she's on the roof and drops it onto the cooler. "Pull up a chair," she says, plopping down into the red one. It groans with the movement and she lets out an exhale, leaning over to snag a bottle of beer from the case. "Stick to your juice, squirt. I don't want Alex having my head."

I ease down into the chair next to hers as she twists the cap off her bottle, dropping it on the roof where it clatters and spins before it comes to a stop. I must watch the cap for longer than she thinks I should cause she leans over and swats me on the arm.

"Come on, this pizza isn't gonna eat itself." She sets her beer into the drink holder on top of the cooler and opens the cardboard box. The smell of pepperoni reaches me, reminiscent of when Danny and I went to the pizzeria on the boardwalk and brought home the best pizza I've ever had.

Anastasia's chair groans when she leans back in it, propping her feet up on the ledge of the roof. "So, I know I'm probably not supposed to ask," she pauses to tear off a chunk of pizza and chews it slowly, casting a glance my way. "But what happened to your face?"

I drop my gaze almost instantly, reaching over to snag a slice for myself. I tear into the cheesy pepperoni piece before I lean back in my chair as well. "Nothing. I got into a fight." I don't bother saying with who cause I don't want to lie or admit the truth.

She watches me as I lean over to grab a coke, twisting the cap off with one hand. I let the cap drop next to hers and chug back a few swallows of soda before I look her way with a shrug. "Y'know how it is in high school."

Anastasia holds my gaze for a few seconds before she lets out a snort, taking another bite before she speaks. "Yeah. That sure looks like a high schooler kicked your ass." She swallows a mouthful of beer, roughly swiping the back of her hand across her mouth before she looks back at me. "Look, lie your ass off to me, I don't care. But my brother's already figured you out so there's no need to keep lying to him. You can trust him."

I don't really know what to think as I chew through my slice, wondering when the hell I signed up for this. Of course Alex has already figured it out. I had to practically tell him in the tenth grade when dad caught me skipping school and beat my head in so badly, Kwan had to drag me to the hospital. Mom couldn't leave work and I told the hospital staff that Alex was my uncle just so I could get the fuck out of there.

Alex begged me to talk to the police even though I wouldn't tell him the truth. I kept making shit up, pretending that dad wasn't even home. I'm pretty sure the only reason Alex gave up when I continued to refuse is cause he realized no one in this town would listen to me. Not as long as the person heading up the police is the same person beating my skull in.

I lift my bottle to my lips and take a long pull, wishing it was something a hell of a lot stronger than coke. "Yeah, I know," I finally respond, lowering my bottle back to the ground. There's no point in saying that I do trust him or that I'll talk to him because it's not true. I can't trust anyone that might tell the authorities. I've put in seventeen good years with my dad, one more isn't going to kill me.

Anastasia must be able to tell from my expression that I'm not gonna say anything more cause she doesn't ask. She just leans back in her chair and leaves me to my pizza. It's quiet between us as we eat, our only sounds being when we set our bottles on the ground.

The evening is setting in and with it, bringing the cooler air of autumn weather. October is just around the corner and this year already feels like it's passed too fast. I spent the last semester of junior year staggering my way into classes and going home to sleep the rest of the day. I'm surprised I actually passed my classes. Pretty sure I slept through most of my finals.

"Fuck it, don't mention this to Alex," Anastasia suddenly says, pulling me from my thoughts. She shifts a little in her chair, reaching underneath to grab something. When she drops the items into her lap, I know why she told me not to mention it.

Anastasia props a cigarette between her lips and flicks the lighter a couple times before it catches. She instantly leans forward to meet the flame and inhales as soon as her cigarette is lit. She snaps the lighter closed and drops it back onto her lap as she leans back again, letting out the smoke into the air. I watch the smoke curl in the air and wonder why I shouldn't mention it to Alex... Judging from how many cigarette butts are up here, he's gotta know that she smokes.

She lets out another mouthful of smoke into the sky, her eyes falling closed as she brings the cigarette back to her lips. Her feet are crossed over one another, resting on the ledge again, and her free hand is loose at her side.

I feel weird watching her like this. It's almost like she's given me a glance into her life and I wasn't prepared for it to be this. I don't know what image I had of Anastasia in my head before this but I'm pretty sure it's been replaced forever with this one. Her eyes closed and complete peace on her face as she takes in one drag after another on her cigarette.

"Alex isn't a saint either, if that's what you're wondering." She exhales another cloud of smoke before turning to me, giving me a smirk. "He can throw back shots like the rest of us and chain-smoke better than I can."

It's a weird feeling when the foundation underneath your beliefs about someone starts to shift. It's not really the same thing as when the bottom just drops out and you're left trying to figure out who this person has really been all this time. These subtle changes are more odd. Like you should have noticed them before now but maybe they were just hidden really well.

Anastasia takes another drag before continuing, her gaze returning to the sky. "We're a lot like you. Finding things that numb the pain for a little while." She exhales out, the smoke dancing up into the air and I'm almost mesmerized by it. But from the corner of my eye, I see the skin around hers tightening.

"What kind of pain?" I ask before I even realize I'm talking. It's none of my business and I'd probably get pissed as hell if her or Alex were to ask me the same question. But now the words are out in the open and I can't take them back.

She keeps her gaze turned to the sky for a few minutes and as the silence stretches on, I'm pretty sure she's not gonna respond at all. If I were in her position, I wouldn't. I'd tell whoever asked me to just mind their own goddamn business. Probably take an extra-long drag before doing so.

The evening is turning into night and I can see the lights going out in city hall. Seeing them from up here is strange. Like this is the first time I've ever really seen them and until now, I wouldn't have been able to describe them. I wonder what Casper High would look like from up here. What the field looks like. Or my house. Or the police station. Or-

"The kind of pain that needs numbing, squirt." Anastasia drops her cigarette and puts it out with the toe of her shoe, leaning back in her chair with a sigh. Her gaze strays to the sky again but it doesn't stay there for long. Within a few seconds, she's looking at me, her expression concerned. "Look, you can be the tough guy with your friends or your girlfriend but you don't have to be here. Alex and I… we'd understand."

My throat feels too small but I swallow anyway, dropping my gaze. I don't know what kind of pain they've been through but they'd never get it. They'd never understand that I can't leave my dad ahead of schedule cause it'd fuck everything up. I only have a year until I can start looking at apartments and by then, I won't need anyone to hold my hand. I have no idea what to say in response but she doesn't seem to be waiting for one.

"Honestly, I already get it. Something's fucking with your head so you drink or fix cars or whatever else you do to distract your mind from the pain." Anastasia offers me up a crooked smile when I look up at her and I wonder how I've never noticed the freckles littered across her cheeks. "You don't have to hide with me, Dash."

I nod, turning my stare to the town below us without a response. There's really nothing to say now. She's probably able to tell that I'm holding it together long enough to just not crack in front of her, cause she doesn't say anything else. Just leans over and pats me on the thigh before she returns to her beer, nursing the last of it as the night really sets in, taking away all the warmth of the day.


The house is empty when I come home and I'm not surprised. If I wasn't so dead tired, I'd call around the local bars and see if any of them have seen dad around. But I'm too exhausted to care tonight. If he's there, odds are he'll still be there tomorrow.

My shower is short, mainly cause I need to have something to turn in to algebra tomorrow. Even if it's gonna suck ass without Danny's help. God, I really fucked that situation up. If I could be more like Anastasia or Alex, I would have had a better shot of that working out. They're both hesitant to push me. While I'm apparently ready to push Danny to his fucking breaking point.

Just as I'm stepping out of the tub, my phone vibrates against the counter. I towel off and step into my boxers before I grab it, my eyes scanning over the text. I drop my phone back onto the counter and pull a shirt on before I pick it up again.

From: Kwan

You okay?

I'm pretty sure that's his way of asking if dad's home or not and I like to think I'm good at reading between the lines. Especially when it comes to Kwan. He's been my best friend since we were like eight or something. If I know anyone well enough to read between the lines of their text messages, it's definitely Kwan.

I carry my phone into my bedroom with me and drop it onto my bed, grabbing my backpack from the floor before I crawl onto my mattress. I flip to the pages assigned in algebra and stare down at it like it's suddenly gonna start making sense. Yeah, right. I have a higher chance of shitting a rainbow than I do understanding algebra.

With a groan, I grab my phone and lean against my headboard, typing back a response to Kwan. Maybe if I ask nicely tomorrow, he'll help me correct my shitty answers during lunch. Leave it to senior year to make our free periods at opposite times of the day.

To: Kwan

Yeah, I'm fine. Dad's not home so it's just me and algebra

To: Kwan

I'm in hell man, this sucks!

We both know how terrible I am at math and that last text pretty much sums it up. I toss my phone onto my mattress again and stare down at my algebra book, like maybe this time, I can really figure out what at least one of the answers is.

The house is really quiet around me and I don't think it's hit me until now just how alone I am. In the past, dad wouldn't come home but it was okay cause when ten rolled around, mom was back. Her shift was always over by nine-thirty every night she was working but she's not coming home tonight. Or ever again. It's just me.

I ease myself up from my mattress and push my door closed. I don't know why I feel the need to but I turn the lock as a last measure. Literally nothing is gonna happen but the extra precaution makes me feel a little better. Like maybe I'm not actually alone and I'm just locking the door cause dad's coming home and I don't want him to wake me when he does.

There's really nothing more pathetic than playing pretend so I turn away from my door and crawl onto my mattress again, scribbling down my best guesses for algebra. Once I've filled every question with an answer that looks close enough to the right one, I push the textbook onto my floor and curl up on my mattress.

I leave the light on as I get beneath the covers and tell myself it's cause I'm too lazy to turn it off. But it probably has nothing to do with being lazy. It's cause if I turn the light off, it makes it more real. I'm really alone in the darkness. Is it too early to pathetically text someone because I'm feeling like a mess again?


I've always had trouble sleeping with the light on in the past and really, it doesn't surprise me that it hasn't changed. I spend most of the night alternating between staring at the floor as I hang my head over the edge of my mattress and playing games on my phone.

By the time my alarm goes off, I haven't fallen asleep at all but I move around like I have. I still put on clothes and pack up my textbooks like I've had some kind of rest. As I leave my bedroom, I turn my light out, like it wasn't on the whole night.

Dad's still not here so I put the coffee on myself, sitting at the kitchen table while it continues to brew. I look over my answers to algebra but it makes about as much sense as it did last night. Eventually, I just pack it away again and sit in silence, staring around the kitchen.

Mom and dad argued for hours when they decided to repaint the faded walls and I still remember the screaming match that followed. He'd apparently bought the wrong color and mom said it was cause he never listened to us anymore. Claimed he was with other women. Dad told her she was crazy and that's when things got really ugly. That was another time dad stayed away for a few days.

I had to walk to the store to get a gallon of milk when we ran out cause mom couldn't leave the house. Not looking like she did after dad got through with her. Mom decided it was best not to piss my dad off anymore so we painted while he was gone. The walls aren't really yellow like she wanted, closer to a dirty-looking white, but dad was happy when he came home.

He brought flowers and chocolates back for my mom, saying he was sorry for their fight. I think mom was just thrilled that he came home at all because she didn't argue. She let him sweep her up into his arms and smiled when he kissed her cheek. That was the moment that I thought she'd never leave him. That no matter how fucking awful things got, she'd always stick around him. Guess it's just me that'll never do the leaving.

The coffee pot sputters to a stop and I move from the table to pour myself a travel mug full of the sweet caffeine. The scent is filling the kitchen and it reminds me of when mom was here. Back when I was a kid. When dad would have Saturdays off and the day would always begin with coffee. Mom always insisted that I was too young to start drinking coffee but dad let me have half a cup every Saturday that he was off the schedule. Mom would roll her eyes but she never stopped him. And I drank up the feeling of family every time.

I add the necessary sugar and creamer to my coffee before I find my shoes where I left them. I yank them on before I leave the house, taking my backpack with me as I go. A few of my neighbors are out but I don't speak to them as I make my way to my car. Even the old lady across the street doesn't get more than a look from me when she waves in my direction.

Everything feels wrong today. Maybe it's cause I didn't sleep last night, maybe it's cause I'm worrying about dad, or maybe my mind was taking a walk down memory lane so long, it's decided to reject this as reality. I want to skip school and lay in my bed all day. Pretend that dad didn't come home but mom did. That was one constant thing I don't have any more. When dad doesn't come home, no one does. It's cliché as hell but I hate being alone cause it leaves me to deal with all the fucked-up thoughts that run through my head. Is it really too much to want someone to be there when I get home? I can fix cars and I can get better grades than I could last year but in most ways, I'm still just a kid. Stumbling through life, with the knowledge that I'm completely and totally fucked-up. And I'm really not ready to be an adult yet. Please, someone come home.


A/N:

SURPRISE

Yoooo! Less than a week til Christmas, huh? Are yoU FUCKERS READY? I'm not. I swear, I went to sleep in August and here we are in fucking December. I feel old every time I say this but holy shit, time flies.

So, hi, welcome back to another week of the angst. How's life been? Anything interesting happen? Any of you have big Christmas plans? Also, New Year's plans? I've been making lists since around the start of the month cause I don't want to forget anything and have it all mapped out before the first. I'm gonna get so much done next year… yes, I'm a nerd. I'm fully aware.

Dash is so angsty right now, like omfg. Looking at where I'm at (writing-wise) in the fic vs where it's being posted like… shit man.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Another chapter of filler? I know, I know. But trust me. Parts of this chapter set-up for later chapters, I promise. 90% of these past few chapters are used for foreshadowing. And believe me - when you get to the parts I've foreshadowed to, it'll blow your miiiiinds. (Well, I'm hoping it will anyway. Some of it will probably be pretty obvious lmao)

Still no sign of Danny but I promise you, the space nerd is coming! I can't go too long without Dash seeing the precious boy ;p

The title of this week's chapter comes from BENNY's 'Boys Will Be Boys'. A) Fucking great video and song. B) That line is so Dash? Like, fuck me, it's perfect. (Not to mention I've been listening to this song nonstop since it dropped, like holy shit I love it) Spoiler alert (?) but I'm pretty sure I'll be using another lyric for a future chapter.

Also, the Good Charlotte song mentioned is Dance Floor Anthem.

I said last week that I won't be posting again until the 3rd unless I squeezed in an update today. So, here's the update, squeezed in. Now, I'm off until the 3rd and I hope you guys have some awesome few weeks.

Happy holidays and I can't wait to talk to you guys again soon. Have a wonderful winter break, you're all the best and I'll see you next chapter!