It is now Friday morning and I get up to do my route per usual. I told my delivery guy that I needed them early so I could make it to the 6AM bus to Los Cruxes. Today starts the statewide wrestling tournament in which the schools are seeded per their performance. I open the front door and there's Ryan curled in the fetal position. He looks at me for the first time since he yelled at me and his eyes water. I realize that mine are as well, but he doesn't allow my mind to dwell on such things.

"I knew you needed help to make the bus this morning, so here I am." His voice is colder than I've ever heard, it breaks my heart. He stands and starts to walk off of the porch and I notice both bags lying on the porch, already filled with folded papers. He grabs one and hands it to me. He then takes the other and sets it on his shoulder. He starts to walk away and I let him. He knows the houses on his half of the route that receive the paper, so I don't argue.

It's almost ironic that I'm left with one paper as I make my way back home. Suddenly my cell rings; it's Ryan. "I was one short, so I took my parents' copy and delivered it." There's that same harsh voice again.

"Okay. I'll be by in a few minutes with a paper then." I respond. I try to act casually, but to know that I'll be at his house again sets me into a nervous panic and yet, I can almost taste dread as well.

"Hey, one more thing." He continues before I can disconnect.

"What's up?"

"My folks don't want me leaving Vetta at the school all weekend. Can I hitch a ride in Wildcat since you're coming by anyway?" He seems desperate. Maybe I can melt the Ice Prince's heart today. I just love how he named his Corvette after giving me hell for calling my pick-up "Wildcat".

"Sure. Not a problem. Is ten minutes soon enough?" I reply.

"Fine. I'll be ready." He at least seems genteel at the moment. Suddenly the acrid taste I was experiencing is now gone.

HSM – SY HSM – SY

We pull up to the school into my usual spot. Ryan grabs his duffel out of the bed and mentions, "I have a quick errand to run for Student Council. Can you take my wardrobe bag to the bus for me?" I just nod and he gives me an uncertain smile. My day is getting better by the moment.

I take a seat next to Chad on the bus and we're having a pleasant conversation. Once everybody's boarded, my dad announces that we need to sit with the other guy in our weight class and bond on the four hour drive.

"You'll be facing the same opponents. We'll be more successful if you guys can compare notes in between matches." As soon as he finishes, the team starts to mill about to find their respective partners. I sit next to Ryan and he groans.

HSM – SY HSM – SY

We've just passed the half way point to Los Cruxes and I awake to a disgruntled Ryan. He's attempting to read his French textbook and apparently he's not getting it. I shift to let him know that I'm awake and he jumps at the opportunity.

"Troy, you've taken French III, right?" His question is simple and direct. I nod my acquiescence. "How do you remember ce que, ce qui, and ce dont?"

"It's quite simple. Are you familiar with how to use que, qui, and dont?" He shakes his head in negation. "Okay. If you want to bind two clauses together, you can use any of these three or où as a conjunction. 'Que' is equivalent to 'that' in English. If there's no subject in the second phrase, you would use 'qui', even though we would still use 'that' in English. 'Où' can take the place of 'when' or 'where' because the two are rather interchangeable in our tongue. Finally, 'dont' means 'which'. To add 'ce' to either 'que' or 'qui' means 'from' or 'to' 'that'. When it is added to 'dont', it can mean either 'of which' or 'of whom'. A good way to see if you use 'dont' is if you have a phantom 'de' in the sentence. It would likely end ' j'ai besoin', ' tu as raison', or ' ils ont beaucoup'." I can see the wheels turning in his head.

"Could you give me an example of a 'ce dont' statement? That's the only one that I don't really understand."

I smile warmly and force him to look into my eyes. "Depuis sept ans, je me sentais ces sensations ce dont j'avais peur." (For the last seven years, I've had these feelings of which I have fear.) It takes a moment for him to place all the words together back into English. He gives me a quizzical look.

"Was that just an example, or was that truth?" I mouth the word 'truth' to him and he closes his eyes in concentration. "Quelles types de sensations?" (What type of feelings?)

"Lesquelles qui me forcent vouloir te tenir pendant la nuit. Lesquelles qui me forcent penser de toi toute la journée. Lesquelles qui se cassent mon cœur quand tu ne t'ammuses pas." (The ones that force me to want to hold you throughout the night. The ones that force me to think of you all day long. The ones that break my heart every time that you're unhappy.) I was expecting an outburst. Hell, I was expecting to be struck by lightning. All I know is that my life, as I know it, is over.

He concentrates for a moment and his eyes open in shock. "Vraiment?" (Really?) I nod sheepishly. "Troy…" it's almost as if he's at odds with himself. Here it comes. He's going to tell me that we can't work things out to be friends again. He never wants anything to do with me ever again. Okay, let's get this over with, "…Embrasse-moi." (Kiss me.)

I think I passed out for a second, because the next thing I know, he's crying while looking into my eyes. "Quoi?" (Wait… What?)

He looks down again and in a soft, sultry, timid voice, "I said, 'embrasse-moi'." That's all I needed. I grab his chin and tilt his face back to mine and ensnare his lips with my own. We didn't french, nor did either of us attempt entry into the other's mouth.

I pull back and look into his eyes to see tears of joy streaming down his cheeks, much like I feel on mine. I use my thumbs to wipe away his tears and rest my head upon his forehead. He pulls back after a second and I'm scared that he's changed his mind. He closes the offending textbook on his lap and places it back into his messenger bag. Then he starts to cuddle against me.

I shift my weight so that my back is in the corner where the seat meets the window and place my right arm onto the seat's back. He adjusts himself so that he's leaning against my chest. I wrap my arms around him and he whispers, "Tes bras me manquent." (literally – your arms are lacking me.; idiomatically – oh, how I've missed these arms.)

I smile and realize that he's fallen asleep. So I place a chaste kiss upon the top of his head and join him in the land of sweet dreams.