Darkness Round The Sun

Chapter One: The End of An Era

ONE
He’d heard people say before that they could feel their hearts breaking, but he’d never really believed it. But now, as he felt his own shattering and the shards of it lodging themselves painfully in his stomach and organs, he wished that he’d listened to the people who had told him to guard it. Sam watched Angelo retreat into the distance and tried to draw breath, but it got caught in his throat. It seemed like the further his love walked away from him, the less oxygen penetrated his lungs. He couldn’t breathe…couldn’t think…The only thing that he knew for certain now was that he was alone, and he was surely going to die on the very spot upon which he stood. He didn’t know what else to do, so he surrendered to the darkness that was now enveloping him like mist.

TWO
The dream ended abruptly with Sam coughing and gasping for breath, his lungs threatening to explode with every lung full of oxygen that he sucked back. When he got his breathing under control again, the enormity of the dream and its reality set in on him once more. The tears that he had been fighting back since Angelo had left him standing alone in the park exploded from his eyes at last. He tried to wipe them away but it did no good. The tears fell like soldiers, marching in a never ending line towards an unknown destination.

It had only been two days since it had happened, but those two short days had felt like an eternity of loneliness. How did you go from talking to someone every spare moment that you had to not talking to them at all? It wasn’t a concept that Sam could grasp. He threw the covers back and climbed out of his bed. When he got to the window, the tears were still falling freely with no end in sight, but at least he wasn’t blubbering anymore. The night was darker than usual beyond his window; it almost seemed to Sam as though whatever force generated the night was feeding off of the darkness that he felt in his own heart on that unnaturally cold September night. He pried the window open and let the cold air wash over his bare chest; he could feel his stomach muscles huddling together to protect each other from the wintery assault. A memory fought its way to the front of his mind.


He had been almost asleep until he’d heard the clink of a pebble hitting glass. He’d looked over at his window and saw nothing. A few seconds later, the glass clinked again. He’d wondered absentmindedly who would have been stupid enough to throw rocks at his window at─ he’d looked at the clock that his parents had put on his nightstand─ two forty-seven in the morning. He’d groggily gotten out of bed and shuffled over to the window. Clink. He’d unlocked the window and almost as soon as he had raised it, another pebble came soaring out of the night. It had flown through the window and hit Sam in the midsection. Since it had only been a pebble, it hadn’t hurt, but whoever had thrown it had put some force behind it so it had stung. Sam had stuck his head out the window to tell off whoever had thrown it and was frozen in place.

“It’s about time!” a voice had called up from the ground. The owner of the voice had been Angelo Mudd. “I was starting to think I’d have to ring the doorbell.”

“Can you keep it down?” Sam had yelled down as quietly as he could once he’d found his voice again. “My parents are sleep.”

“Then come out,” Angelo had said as though it had been the most obvious solution in the world. And it kind of had been.

“No,” Sam had said. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“Then let me in.” Sam had lost his voice again. He wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly.

“I─” Sam had begun.

“Sam, come on,” Angelo had whined. His voice had risen dramatically. “Let me in.”

“Fine!” Sam had said, knowing that Angelo had raised his voice purposely so that he’d get his way. “I’ll be down in a sec.”

“Don’t bother,” Angelo had said. “Just stand back.” Sam had done as instructed and Angelo had gracefully scaled the tree next to him and leaped into Sam’s bedroom.

“What are you, some kind of monkey?” Sam had asked, trying to mask the amusement in his voice.

“Maybe,” Angelo had said, shrugging his shoulders.

Sam had been fully awake by then. He’d had the sexiest guy he’d met in a long time standing directly in front of him, and couldn’t really think straight. “What are you doing here?” he’d asked, hoping that he didn’t sound as head over heels as he’d felt.

“Come on now,” Angelo had said. “Is that anyway to greet me?” He’d taken a step closer and Sam had had to fight to stand his ground. Whatever Angelo had been wearing had invaded his nostrils and it had smelled intoxicating.

“What’s so special about you?” Sam had breathed, and then immediately cursed himself for the breathy quality of his voice.

Angelo had taken another step forward and Sam had closed his eyes, inhaling Angelo’s scent like it had been a drug. He’d opened his eyes and seen that they had been inches apart; close enough for their lips to touch. “I know that you like me,” Angelo had said, and then─

Sam forced the memory back to the recesses of his mind and locked it away. It hurt too much to remember what had happened next. He stuck his head out the window and looked down, half expecting, half hoping to see Angelo standing down there once more with his signature grin tattooed across his face. He was let down and the truth hit home once again. He wanted to stop crying; wanted desperately to man up and move on. But he couldn’t. It was as though Angelo had been some sort of glue that had been holding him together, and now, with that glue gone, he was falling apart.

He retreated into his room and closed the window, totally unsure of what to do next. He knew that he needed to sleep, but he was terrified that if he tried to, another dream would haunt him. He crossed the room slowly, sat down at his desk and turned on the computer. It was the first time that he’d had a desire to do anything with the computer since Angelo had left. He put in his password and when his wallpaper lit up the screen, he had to fight back tears once more. There was a large picture of him and Angelo, smiling, with their arms wrapped around each other with the words Forever and Always photoshopped above their heads. He killed the power to the monitor and got away from the computer as quickly as he could, because he could feel the cracking sensation coming over him again.

Sam had to get over this. He couldn’t go through the rest of his life like a zombie because one person decided that they didn’t want to be with him anymore. He wasn’t that pathetic.
Clink.

Was he? His heart soared when he heard that sound again; that beautiful sound of a pebble hitting glass. Angelo had come back to him. He’d realized his mistake.
Clink.

He ran over to the window, threw it open and stuck his head out. But there was no one there. He scanned the ground below his window and couldn’t even see any footprints, which meant that no one had been there; which meant that he’d been hearing things. He withdrew his head once again, hating himself for feeling so desperate. How was he going to function if all he could think of was Angelo? How was he, Sam, going to be able to face him if he saw him in the halls at school? What was he going to do when he saw him in class? His heart sank. There were only a few hours left before he had to be in school, and he was nowhere near ready to face the person who had shattered his heart. He wondered what would happen when they came face to face for the first time.

There was another clink at the window, and then silence.

THREE
Sam was staring out the window again when the sun first peeked over the horizon in the distance. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there, but he did know that, however long it had been, he still hadn’t thought of anything that would convince his mother to let him stay home from school. His insides churned every time he thought of walking through those halls, every time he thought of the looks people would give him and the things that they would say about him. What would they say? Not knowing was the worst part.

Still he sat in his spot by the window, still trying to figure out an excuse to stay home that day when his alarm started to sing; he cut Taylor Swift off before she could tell him exactly what “Our Song” was. He was just going to have to face it; “take it like a man” as he’d heard people say, but he wasn’t necessarily sure that it applied in this situation. He slid out of his chair and went to take a shower.

FOUR
Sam stood on the sidewalk and stared up at the building, unsure of how to proceed. Other students walked past him and entered through the double doors at the top of those cement stairs. He watched one girl grab her boyfriend’s hand as they walked through the doors and another memory burst its way to the forefront of his mind.

He’d been standing on this very spot, afraid of what people would say when they saw them together. He’d looked over at Angelo and Angelo had smiled. Every apprehension that Sam had had melted away when he saw that smile, and Angelo had slipped Sam’s hand into his own and both of them had walked into the school. The worry about what everyone would think had slipped to the back of his mind because it hadn’t mattered anymore. As long as Angelo was with him he knew that things would be alright.

Sam shook the memory off and closed his eyes, willing it to stay gone. When he opened his eyes again, there was a girl standing in front of him, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sam? Hello?” she called. When he continued to stare as though he didn’t recognize her, she tapped a finger lightly on his forehead. “Anyone home?” A smile broke out across his face for the first time since he’d left the Park.

“Hey, Jessica,” he said, but he still heard the same monotone in his voice that he had heard earlier.

“How’re you holding up?” she asked, throwing her arm around his shoulder and ushering him into the school.

He looked at her. He wasn’t surprised that she knew, not really, because she knew everything that happened inside and outside of Xavier High School. “How’d you hear?”

She stared at him disbelievingly. “Facebook, duh,” she said, smiling a little. He cursed the social networking site in his head. “He changed his relationship status last night.” They stopped in front of his locker. “What happened?” He wasn’t ready to relive the events of that day while he was awake yet, but he knew that Jessica wouldn’t drop the subject until he told her.

“Things…just didn’t work out,” he said.

“Bull,” she said, spinning in his combination for him and swinging the locker open. “You guys were perfect for each other.” She looked around and then leaned in to whisper in his ear. “We all had bets going about who was going to pop the Question first.”

He paused with his hand on his chemistry book and stared at her, taken aback. “Jess,” he said, incredulity slipping into his voice, “we’re seventeen.”

“Love knows no age,” she said dramatically, fluttering her eyelashes. She looked around again. “The whole school is talking about it,” she said somberly. “Just warning you.”

“I don’t care what they’re talking about,” he lied. “What happened between us is none of their bu─” His heart skipped a beat and he stopped speaking. He had looked over Jessica’s shoulder and there, walking up the hall in their direction was Angelo. A thin sweat broke out on Sam’s forehead. Angelo had clearly taken out his hair since the last time Sam had seen him, because it was tied back into a rather bushy ponytail. Sam fought the memory of how it felt to play in that hair. Jessica had looked up at him and then followed his eyes to see Angelo walking in their direction.

“Sam, let’s go,” she said, pulling his hand out of the locker and closing it. She tried to pull him away but he stood there, rooted to the spot, with his eyes locked on Angelo’s face. And then Angelo looked up and saw him staring, then simply averted his eyes and kept walking. Sam’s mouth parted just slightly, almost as though he had stopped himself from saying something. He felt those tears welling up behind him eyes once again. Jessica looked up at him, took his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “Don’t you dare cry,” she said sternly.

“But─”

“No buts,” she said. “If he can’t even speak when he sees you, then he’s not worth your tears.”

Sam’s bottom lip began to quiver. “I don’t know what I did,” he said, and then the first tear of a fresh new batch spilled.

Jessica’s tough act faltered and she stared up at him helplessly. “Sam, you don’t want people to see you crying.”

“I don’t care what they see,” he said through clenched teeth. “They don’t have to go through this. I do.” He pulled away from Jessica. “I’m gonna go to class,” he said. “I’ll see you later.” He left her standing by his locker and went to his chemistry class.

FIVE
Sam saw Angelo six more times that day, and every time Angelo acted as though he had never met him. Every time, it had hurt a little more, but by the end of the day, Sam was determined that if he saw him again, he would stop him himself and demand to know why he was being treated this way. He didn’t deserve this, and especially not from Angelo, whom he had devoted himself to entirely for the better part of a year.

Jessica met up with him again at lunch; she slid into the seat next to him as he stared down morosely at his mashed potatoes.

“You feel any better?” she asked. He looked up at her and she saw that his eyes were glassy and red, filled to the brim with unshed tears. “What happened?” she asked putting her arm around his shoulder again. He held out a small box. She opened it and pulled out a chain with half a heart on the end of it. RS VER was engraved on the tiny golden heart.

“I thought I’d lost it,” he said. His voice sounded choked and she didn’t like it. “He got me this for Valentine’s Day. I took this half and he’s got the other one. When you put them together they say “Yours Forever”.” He looked back down at his food. “It’s not even the necklace,” he said, “not really. It’s just that that was the day the he told me he loved me for the first time.”

“This is gonna sound harsh,” Jessica said. Sam looked up at her again and his eyes said what he didn’t have to. Please don’t hurt me anymore, they said. I’m not sure that I can handle it. “You need to get laid.”

A smile creased the edges of Sam’s mouth and he tried to hide the fact that he wanted to laugh. “What?” he said. His voice was breaking, but she knew that it wasn’t with sadness.

“I’m serious,” she said. “You just need to get it one good time from somebody and it’ll work old Muddy right out of your system.” The smile on Sam’s face widened, but he still wasn’t going to let himself laugh. Jessica knew that he was holding back so she plunged on. “And not just anybody, either,” she said shaking her head. “You need somebody who’s built like a military man with bulging biceps and thick muscles and a nice, fat, hard─”

“Ok, I get it!” Sam cut across her, his smile wider than ever.

“What?” she asked innocently. “I was just gonna say head.” The double entendre threw him over the edge and he doubled over, laughing at last. She looked at him and laughed as well. The laugh came up from the depths of his soul and by the time he could sit straight up again, he really did feel a little better.

He picked the box up off the table and looked down at the tiny golden heart inside of it. “I don’t want to get rid of it,” he said.

“No one said that you have to,” Jessica told him. “It was a gift from the person that you loved, so you should keep it.”

“But what if he wants it back?”

Jessica looked at him and saw that it was a genuine question. “I don’t think that Angelo is that type of person.” Sam smiled at that. “But if he is, then I will personally kick his ass, because you deserve better than that.” He smiled harder.

When school let out, Sam met Jessica at her locker and they both walked outside together. As soon as they were outside, Sam’s eyes locked onto Angelo, who was leaning against the bike rack near the sidewalk, talking to a girl that Sam had always despised. He kept walking, almost in a daze; he had every intention of leaving Jessica behind and walking straight home. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Angelo, though. Next thing Sam knew, he felt something hard pressed against chest and he was falling backward. He hit the ground with an audible, yet muffled thud, and his books scattered across the ground. He looked around and saw a guy that was in one of his classes on the ground opposite him.

“You think you could watch where you’re going?” the guy asked. Sam could detect an accent in his voice; if he had to have guessed, he would have said New York. It wasn’t thick, but it was there, and it made something in the pit of Sam’s stomach tighten.

“Sorry,” Sam said. But he wasn’t sorry at all. If he had been watching where he’d been going, he wouldn’t have bumped in to this guy, and he was happy that he had. Sam got to his feet and helped his classmate up. “You ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, fine,” the guy said, and Sam’s insides warmed and squirmed when he heard that accent again. He, Sam, wondered vaguely what he would sound like when he wasn’t irritated. Sam bent down and picked up the backpack that had slid off of the guy’s shoulder when he’d hit the ground.

“Sorry,” Sam said again as he handed the guy his bag.

“No problem. Just watch out, next time.” And he walked away.

The attraction was instant. Sam wasn’t sure if the other guy had felt it or not, but he knew that he sure did. He felt a light tap on his shoulder. Jessica was standing behind him and, when Sam turned around, she jerked her head in Angelo’s direction. Sam looked over. The stupid girl was still chatting animatedly to him, but Angelo didn’t seem to be paying attention. He was watching Sam with─ could it be? ─ a snarl distorting his features. Just enough of one for Sam and Jessica to notice and to send Sam’s heart soaring. It was juvenile to feel pleasure at making someone else jealous, sure, but what other comfort did he have? He locked arms with Jessica and they started walking again.

“Is it just me,” Jessica asked as they walked past the line of fast food restaurants a couple miles from the school, trying to find a place to eat. “Or did Angelo seem a little jealous that you were talking to Dean?”

“That’s his name?” Sam asked, letting his mind wander and imagining what that name would sound like being forced from his mouth while he was in bed.

“Yup,” Jessica said, laughing at the dreamy expression that had spread across Sam’s face.

“What?” he said, looking over at her.

“Oh, nothing,” she said.

“Liar.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that you’ve got the hots for him. No wonder Angelo looked so jealous.”

“I don’t have “the hots” for him,” Sam said. “He’s just really cute with a really sexy accent, and I wouldn’t mind seeing him out of his clothes.” Jessica gaped at him; she was shaking with suppressed laughter. “That’s all,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.

They finally found a place to eat and spent most of the meal discussing what Jessica knew about Dean. When they were finished eating, they left the fast food grease pit and started walking again. The two of them were debating what part of New York Dean might have been from when Sam’s heart prickled lightly. He looked up and saw where they were headed and stopped, paralyzed in his tracks. Jessica stopped a few feet ahead of him. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we go another way?” Sam asked.

“But this is the quickest way home.”

“Jess, please. I really don’t want to go through there.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He looked at her and saw the confusion obvious in her eyes. “That’s where it happened,” he said.

Jessica was still confused. “Where what happened?” Sam looked at her and the pleading in his eyes said what his mouth didn’t have to. “Oh,” she said. “Oh.” She took his hand and quickly steered him away from the park entrance. “Sorry,” she said when they were a safe distance away.

“It’s alright,” Sam told her. “I know that I can’t avoid it forever. I just don’t think I’m ready to go through there right now.”

“I understand,” she said. They parted company when they got to Jessica’s front door, and then, for the first time in nearly a year, Sam walked home alone.

That night, Sam tried everything that he could think of to stay awake, because he didn’t want to have another dream about Angelo, but a little past midnight, sleep finally claimed him.

Sam slept, and he dreamt.

SIX
Sam stood with his feet buried in the white sand and looked out over the ocean. He had always loved coming here, and it had been Angelo’s present to him tonight. They had the entire beach to themselves; Sam wasn’t exactly sure how Angelo had pulled it off, but he was glad that he did. It was a beautiful night in early June and the smell of the salt water invaded Sam’s nostrils. He adored that smell. He felt a pair of arms wrap themselves firmly around his waist and a chin come to rest where his shoulder and neck met.

“Thank you,” Sam said, fingering the necklace that Angelo had gotten him.

“For what?” Angelo asked. His voice was low and throaty, almost a growl in his lover’s ear.

A shiver ran down Sam’s spine, and his voice trembled with suppressed desire when he spoke. “For bringing me here. You know I love the beach at night.”

“I haven’t given you a reason to thank me, yet,” Angelo said. Now his voice was a whisper, directly into Sam’s ear. Sam swallowed hard and willed the rest of his body not to shake.

“What do you meeeeeeeaaaaaaaannn?” He had to drag out the last word because Angelo had begun nibbling lightly on his earlobe. “Wha…What are you do…doing?” Sam breathed. “We’re in public.”

“So?” Angelo asked, taking his mouth off of Sam’s ear and moving down to his neck. Sam wrestled back a moan. He felt Angelo smile against his neck, and then Angelo’s hands were slipping into his pants.

“Stop,” Sam said. Angelo stopped at once.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sam said. He was fighting to get his body back under his own control. “I just don’t know about doing this out where everyone can see.”

Angelo turned Sam around to face him, smiling. “There’s no one around. And even if there were, I’m not ashamed.” He looked into Sam’s eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sam said, inwardly thankful that it was dark outside; the moon didn’t provide enough light for Angelo to see that he was blushing. “But what about the police? We could go to jail for indecent exposure.” Angelo laughed. “I’m serious. I mean─” Angelo silenced him with a kiss. When the kiss broke, Sam was still standing immobile, eyes closed and lips parted just slightly.

“Stop thinking all the time,” Angelo said. “Just let yourself feel.”

He pulled Sam’s shirt off and started kissing his neck again and, this time, Sam didn’t stop him. He felt Angelo’s hand’s sliding down his body again but, instead of encasing themselves in Sam’s shorts, they merely slipped inside the waistband and shoved the shorts down altogether. Sam stood in the moonlight, naked as the eyes of a clown. Angelo stood back and surveyed him.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Sam looked down at the sand. “Hey.” Sam looked up at him. “You are. And anybody that says otherwise has to deal with me.” He moved in and kissed him again. It was a simple kiss at first, and then Sam felt Angelo’s tongue sneak past his lips and start battling his own tongue for dominance. An unseasonably cold wind blew and jolted Sam’s mind back to the fact that he was naked. He shivered. He felt Angelo smile against his lips and the kiss became deeper.

Sam broke the kiss first; his chest expanded with every huge lung full of breath he gulped back. This always happened to him; whenever Angelo got enthusiastic with his kisses, Sam somehow seemed to forget how to breathe. Angelo smiled again. “One of these days,” he said, “I’m gonna teach you how to kiss and breathe.” He nodded, grinning now. “At the same time.” Sam tackled him and the two of them began rolling around in the sand, each one fighting to be on top. Angelo won, as Sam had known that he would.

“I win again,” he said, panting. “You have to know that you can’t beat me by now.” He looked into Sam’s eyes and Sam was mesmerized by the grey of his eyes (whether it was contact enhanced or not). “So what’s my prize?”

Sam put on a look of mock thought. “A kiss,” he said finally, biting his lower lip. Angelo leaned in and kissed him again and then pulled back, shaking his head. “That was the prize last time. It has to be something better.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I can think of a couple of things,” Angelo said, his hand easing its way between them and snaking its way down Sam’s body to grasp his already hardening manhood. Sam gasped and closed his eyes as Angelo squeezed gently. “And it looks like you don’t mind what I’m thinking, either.” Angelo tugged and Sam bit back a moan.

“Stop talking,” Sam breathed.

“Yes, sir.” Angelo obliged, smiling, and then the two of them were kissing once more. Music started playing and Sam wondered absently where it was coming from, but he was enjoying what was happened too much to really care. Angelo broke the kiss long enough to peel off his shirt, and then that horrible song broke all the way through and Sam woke up.

SEVEN
Sam was more than cranky when he opened his eyes and silenced Britney Spears in the middle of her “Womanizer” chant. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew that it was no use. Even if he did managed to get back to dreamland, he knew that the dream that he had been having, the one that he wanted to return to, was gone; possibly forever.

He lay there, staring up at the ceiling and remembering the night that the dream had been letting him relive. Angelo had been gentle at first, letting Sam adjust to the fact that he was having sex outdoors for the first time, and then he had settled back into his usual ruthless rhythm. Sam shook off the memory and got out of bed. It wouldn’t do him any good to dwell on the past if he wasn’t going to be able to relive it in his future. He went about his usual morning rituals and then left for school.

Sam approached the school in much better spirits than he had the previous day. He was determined that he would not let Angelo affect his day today. He was single, after all, so why shouldn’t he be happy? Jessica was sitting on the steps, and when she saw him she jumped up and bounded over to his side. He looked at her, not sure what to expect. “You’re in a good mood,” he said.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” she said smiling. Sam knew that smile.

“Jess,” he asked cautiously. “What did you do?”

“Oh, nothing,” she sang. “But we should get inside.” She seized his hand and practically dragged him into the school.

“Jessica, I’m serious,” he protested, trying to yank his hand out of her vice-like grip. “What did you do?”

“What?” she asked. “Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” he said. “You know that I don’t. Especially when you won’t tell me what’s going on!” Sam stopped protesting when his eyes fell on Angelo, whose lips were locked on to the lips of the skank that he had been talking to the afternoon before. His legs locked and his feet stopped moving as his heart shattered like glass in his chest. He tried not to cry as the pieces lacerated his insides.

Jessica still tried to pull him, but he wouldn’t budge. “Sam, will you─” She stopped pulling when she saw what he saw. “Bri, come on. You shouldn’t be looking at this.” She saw his bottom lip quivering and pulled. This time he moved. They were at Jessica’s locker when he spoke.

“It’s only been three days,” he said. His eyes were on the metal directly in front of him; he didn’t want anyone to see him the way that he was. He felt pathetic. He felt lost. He felt betrayed. “How is he kissing on someone else and it’s only been three days?” There was no emotion in his voice, and that was what scared Jessica more than anything. “Did I really mean─”

“Don’t,” she cut across him. “Don’t you dare put yourself down! It’s not about you. It’s about him being a jerk.” She ran her hand up and down his arm. “He didn’t deserve you. And he doesn’t deserve your tears, so don’t you start crying.”

“It’s just hurts, Jessica,” he said, looking at her at last. She wondered if he was seeing her clearly, because his eyes had become totally eclipsed by unshed tears. “It hurts like hell.” He blinked, and one renegade tear escaped his eyelid and ran for freedom. Jessica wiped it away. “How do I make it stop hurting?”

“Honestly?” she asked. Sam nodded. “You move on and find someone better.” Her voice was gentle. “Someone who loves you for you.” Her eyes darted away from Sam’s for only a second and when she looked back at him, her gaze was far more serious than before. “What do you want do after school today?” she asked. “It’s supposed to rain, but we could always go to the arcade or something.” Sam knew that her expression was way too serious for the questions she was asking. What had she seen? He turned around. “Sam, don’t,” she said, trying to turn his face back towards hers, but he had already seen what she had. Angelo was walking down the hall, with books that Sam knew weren’t his in his hand, and his arm draped over the skank’s shoulders.

Sam’s lips parted as though he was going to say something, but he couldn’t find the words. He saw Angelo’s eyes dart towards him and Jessica and then they were looking forward again. He could see Angelo’s jaw clench and the hand that wasn’t carrying books tighten into a fist, and then his face and hand were back to the way that they had been the moment before; a second later and Sam was wondering if he had only imagined the reaction.

He felt the moisture on his face before he had realized that he’d let any tears fall. He turned back to Jessica, whose expression of anger immediately softened into one of concern. “It’ll get better,” she said. “I promise.” The bell overhead rang to tell the students that they only had five minutes left to get to class.

“Jess,” he said. “How am I supposed to do this? I can barely hold back tears when I see him in the hall. How am I supposed to go a whole ninety minutes with him in the same room?”

“Just ignore him,” she said.

“But he sits right next to me. Small let us choose our own seats and we were still together then, so…”

“Ouch,” she said. “You’ve just gotta focus on something else.”

“I’ll try,” Sam said, and the two of them separated to go to their respective classes.

Sam was already sitting in his seat, staring pointedly at his textbook when Angelo walked in mere seconds before the bell rung; he didn’t see him, but over the last ten months his nose had become accustomed to that scent and he knew that he would have been able to pick it up anywhere. He turned the page and tried to focus on the illustration of the sentence diagram that was staring back up at him. His body tensed in anticipation of that scent coming closer to him, but instead, it was moving further away. Sam snuck a glance and saw Angelo moving towards the front of the room and taking up a seat right in front of the blackboard.
“No, you don’t, Mr. Mudd,” the teacher said when he walked into the room and closed the door behind him. “You had a chance to choose and you chose, so kindly take your seat next to Mr. Michaels.”
“But─” Angelo began. Sam refused to admit to himself that that voice sounded like music after not hearing it for three days.

“No buts,” the teacher cut across him. “Take your proper seat so that we can begin class.”

Sam looked down at his book again as Angelo vacated the seat at the front of the room. He knew that the eyes that he couldn’t feel burning into his own skin were watching Angelo make his way back to the desk. After a few minutes, Sam chanced a sidelong glance at the seat next to his and saw Angelo staring resolutely at the board. He looked down at the book once more, fighting the urge to scream. Was it really so difficult for Angelo to talk to him, or even look at him? Sam supposed so, and resigned himself to the fact that his life with Angelo was really over.

The teacher withdrew a piece of chalk from his desk drawer and addressed the class. “Open your texts to page─” He was interrupted by a knock at the door. He looked at the glass and rolled his eyes. Sam looked over at the door and his heart skipped a beat. He felt the edges of his mouth turning upwards in a grin and all thoughts of Angelo were temporarily wiped from his mind. “Mr. Winchester,” the teacher said as he opened the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Dean said as he walked into the classroom. Sam heard the accent and his stomach tightened again.

“Don’t be sorry now,” Mr. Small said, shutting the door behind Dean. “Be sorry when you see me for detention this afternoon. Two forty-five.”

“Ok,” Dean said; Sam could see his lips tighten into a thin line as though he were stopping himself from saying what he wanted to. Sam wondered what it would be like to kiss those lips and he suddenly wished that he had detention this afternoon, too.

Dean’s eyes scanned the room and locked onto Sam’s. Sam realized that he was still grinning and tried to stop, but he couldn’t manage to hide it. The left side of Dean’s mouth turned up like he was amused and Sam felt a chill run down his spine and back up it again. His eyes followed Dean as he walked closer and closer to where Sam was seated, and then he took up the empty seat in front of the two ex-lovers. Sam sucked his lips into his mouth to keep himself from smiling and suddenly understood how Angelo could be kissing someone else so soon. He wanted to do much more than kiss Dean.

He felt someone’s gaze burning into the side of his face and turned to look at Angelo, whose mouth was turned up into a rather ugly snarl. “Can I help you?” Sam asked. He could hear the annoyance in his own voice and smiled inwardly that he could talk at all. The teacher restarted his lecture.

“Well, when you’re done making googly eyes like a fucking school girl─” Angelo started.

“Don’t you dare,” Sam spat. “You broke up with me, so you don’t get to say how I look at anyone.”

“I only broke up with you because─” He stopped talking and his face twisted in to an even uglier snarl. Sam followed his gaze and saw Dean’s hand sticking out from underneath his arm, a folded up sheet of paper clutched between the fingers. Sam reached forward and took the paper from Dean’s hand. He unfolded it and read.
I don’t mind you making googly eyes at me. You’re kinda cute. Text me.

Dean had scribbled his number at the bottom of the paper. Sam felt himself grinning again as he withdrew his phone from his pocket and programmed the number. Angelo looked murderous.

“Mr. Michaels,” the teacher said from his place at the chalkboard. Sam’s head snapped up. “You know that there are no phones allowed in my classroom. Detention. Two-forty-five.” Sam and Angelo’s looks of shock were identical. Sam had never had detention before. He slipped the phone back into his pocket and refolded the note. Dean opened his hand as though he wanted it back. Sam opened it back up, scribbled Thanks a lot, refolded it and handed it back. He saw Dean shaking with suppressed laughter as he wrote a reply. Sam took the note from him and read.
You’re welcome.

Sam smiled and balled up the note. He looked over at Angelo who was once again looking resolutely at the front of the room. His fists were balled up and he appeared to be shaking. Sam was on the verge of asking him what was wrong, but he reconsidered. What was the point, really? They weren’t together, anymore. But did that mean that Sam was supposed to stop caring? He didn’t think so, even though until now it had seemed like that’s what Angel had done. Angelo hadn’t thought enough to give him a decent reason for breaking up with him, so why should Sam think enough to find out what had him so wound up? Sam sighed and started the assignment that the teacher had put on the chalkboard.

He never saw the single tear fall from Angelo’s eye.


EIGHT
The warbling of the bell broke through Sam’s daze and he blinked for the first time in what felt like hours. He looked around and saw the classroom slowly emptying around him. He started to get up, but saw Angelo still sitting down, staring at the board and sat back down. “What’s wrong?” Angelo continued staring straight ahead, not acknowledging that he’d heard Sam, or that he even realized that he was there. “Angel,” Sam said, and then clapped a hand to his mouth. It had slipped out. Angel had been Sam’s pet name for his boyfriend for the last few months. At the time he had started calling him by that name, it had amazed both of them that the removal of one simple letter could completely change a word’s meaning.

Angelo looked over at him at last; there was fire in his eyes. “I’m not your angel,” he said through clenched teeth. He was shaking once again and his eyes were watering. Was he really that angry?

“Angelo─”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Angelo screamed and got up so fast that his desk went toppling to the ground. He slung his book bag over his shoulder and stormed past a very startled looking Jessica and out of the room. Sam stayed in his seat, totally lost for words.

“Mr. Michaels,” the teacher said from the front of the room. Sam looked at him and saw that he, too, looked taken aback by Angelo’s sudden outburst. “Don’t you have a class to get to?” Sam simply nodded and gathered up his things before leaving the room.

“What was that about?” Jessica asked once they were in the hallway, moving amongst the jungle of students.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “At first he was ignoring me, but as soon as Dean walked in the room, he started freaking out.”

“Freaking out how?”

“It was almost like he was jealous.” Jessica raised an eyebrow. “I know. He was about to tell me why he broke up with me, but then Dean handed me a note and he just stopped talking.”

“Dean gave you a note?” Jessica asked. Her voice was suddenly full of excitement. “What did it say?”

Sam smiled. “It said that he thinks I’m cute, and that I can make googly eyes at him whenever I want.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t read too much into it, Jess,” he said. “You said that the whole school is talking about the breakup, so he’s probably just trying to be nice.”

She rolled her eyes. “You didn’t even know who he was until you knocked him over yesterday,” she said.

“Jess…”

“Don’t Jess me, Sam. Not everybody just feels sorry for you. Some people actually might actually want you.” Sam looked at her doubtfully. “Fine, don’t believe me. Spend the rest of your life obsessing over your ex and miss out on the other six billion amazing people out there.” Sam smiled a little at that. “If he was dumb enough to dump you, he didn’t deserve you.”

“You keep saying that,” he said.

“Because it’s true. Besides,” she said, lowering her voice so that only Sam could hear her. “I’m hoping he’ll hear me and try to start something. I’ve been itching to hit him.” Sam burst out laughing. “What? I’m serious!”

“Why have you been itching to hit him, Jessica?”

“Why not?” she asked simply. “Breaking my best friend’s heart is automatic grounds to get hit.”

“Is it really?”

“Yeah,” Jessica said, nodding. “It’s in the rule book, and everything.”

“You’re insane, you know that?”

Jessica laughed. “Yeah, yeah, that’s what you keep saying.”

Sam laughed again. “Oh, I’m not gonna be able to walk home with you today.”

“Why not?”

“We have detention.”

Jessica looked confused. “We who?”

“Me and Dean.”

Her jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. He got it for being late and I got it for putting his number in my phone.”

“You got his number?” she hissed.

Sam nodded. “He wrote it at the bottom of the note.”

“Well did you give him yours?”

Sam shook his head and Jessica punched him in the arm. “What was that for?” he demanded, massaging the now tender flesh.
“
Why didn’t you?”

“Because I’m gonna see him in detention.”

“But what if he wants to talk to you before that?”

Sam laughed a little. “Jess, it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not,” she said. “You go find him and give him your number!”

“Er…”

“You need to get over Angelo,” she told him. “As fast as possible. Dean will help with that.”

“I have a better idea,” Sam said.

“What?”

“How about I just text him?”

“Do something,” she said. Sam nodded, silently thankful that he had a friend like Jessica who wasn’t going to let him mope around for too long. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

“You know it.” She gave him one final look that said You better do it, turned on her heel and left Sam standing in the middle of the hallway. He started walking and pondered what she wanted him to do; Sam had never been good at initiating conversation and Jessica knew that. But maybe it would be worth it. Maybe Jessica was right and Dean would be able to help him get over Angelo. He walked through the door of his math class and took his seat.

Twenty minutes later, Sam was staring down at the equation in front of him, desperately wanting to beat his head against a rock. He hated math. He was massaging his temple when his pocket buzzed. One glance at the teacher, who had her nose buried in a copy of The Shining, told him that it was safe to check his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open. The name under the animated mailbox said Dean. Eyebrow raised, Sam pushed Read Now.

What’s taking you so long? I gave you my number like two hours ago.

Sam pushed reply. I was gonna text you later. How did you get mine?

He looked back up at the teacher to make sure that she wasn’t watching him as he anxiously awaited Dean’s reply. When it came, Sam opened the message and stared down at the one word with an odd mixture of amusement and horror. Jessica.

I’m going to KILL her was Sam’s response.

Lol.

Sam spent the remainder of class talking to Dean and, by the time he sat down at lunch next to Jessica, he knew quite a bit about his new friend. Jessica looked at him out of the corner of her eye, trying to conceal a smirk.

“You look happy,” she said.

“Only because I’m plotting your murder,” he said.

“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything this time!”

“So you didn’t see Dean earlier?”

“I see Dean all the time.”

“And you didn’t give him my number?”

“We talked about a lot of stuff. And then we just started counting and there were a lot of numbers.”

Sam looked at her, amazed. “Jessica.”

“What? You weren’t gonna give it to him and you weren’t gonna text him so I just made it easier on both of you.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yenta,” he muttered under his breath.

“Stop watching The Nanny,” she said, whacking him in the back of the head.

“Why do you keep hitting me?” he asked.

“Because you deserve it,” she said, laughing.

“Fine. I want a divorce,” he joked.

“Why?”

“Spousal abuse.”

“Is this seat taken?” a familiar voice asked from the other side of the table. Sam and Jessica both looked over and saw Dean standing there, smiling politely.

“Nope,” Jessica said, giving Sam a knowing look. “Join us. Please.”

“You sound like one of the pod people,” Sam said without looking at her; his eyes were too busy studying Dean’s face to look at her. Within seconds, every line, every curve, every black head was imprinted in Sam’s mind.

“Sam? Hello?” Sam blinked and looked at Jessica whose eyebrow was raised.

“Did you say something?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, smiling. “Nothing at all.”

“Say it,” he said.

Jessica opened her mouth to say something, but Dean spoke instead. “You think I’m hot,” he said.

Sam looked at him, dumbstruck. “Cocky, much?” Jessica laughed.

“I’m always cocky,” Dean told him. He flashed Sam a smile that made the other’s boy’s heart skip a beat. The look that crossed Sam’s face told Dean all he needed to know. “Exactly.”

“Exactly, what?”

“See you in detention, Sam,” Dean said and got up. He winked at Sam and then walked away.

“You two are gonna hook up,” Jessica said simply before shoveling a spoonful of Jello into her mouth.

“How do you figure?”

“You want him, he wants you. It’s gonna happen.”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. He was looking at Angelo, who was sitting on the other side of the other side of the cafeteria with his new person sitting next to him rubbing his arm; Sam suddenly had a strong urge to dump something scalding hot on her. Angelo was staring down at his tray; his face was more morose that Sam had ever seen it. It broke Sam’s heart to see Angelo that way, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to fix him. Or if he could.


NINE
After lunch was over, the rest of the day seemed to move in double time; before Sam knew what was happening the two twenty-five bell rang and the school day was over. When he parted company with Jessica and reentered Mr. Small’s classroom for detention, there were already three other bodies present. Mr. Small was sitting at his desk with a very stern look plastered on his face. Dean was sitting at a desk in the middle of the room; when he looked up and saw Sam come in, a large smile lit up his face. And all the way at the back of the room, Angelo sat, his expression sour.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked before he could stop himself.

“Mr. Michaels,” the teacher said, his tone scandalized. “Might I remind you that this is detention? No talking!” Sam rolled his eyes and took a seat halfway between Dean and Angelo. He took a book from his bag and started to read. Sam had only a read a few pages when the loudspeaker crackled over their heads.

“Mr. Small?” the voice called.

“Yes?” he replied, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

“You have a parent waiting for you in the main office.”

“I have students in detention.”

There was silence for a moment before the voice came back. “She says that it’s urgent, Mr. Small.”

“Fine,” he growled. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He surveyed his prisoners. “I want this room to stay silent. And if any of you leave I’ll have you in here every afternoon for the rest of your natural born lives. Understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Small,” Sam and Dean chorused. Angelo stayed silent.

“Mr. Mudd?” Angelo shot him a withering look and nodded curtly. Mr. Small heaved a sigh and left the room. Dean turned around and looked at Sam.

“So…”

“So…what?”

“Here we are,” Dean said, smirking.

“We’re in detention,” Sam said.

“I know.”

“So why do you look like you’re trying for small talk?”

“Maybe I am.”

“This isn’t a date.”

“Says who?” Dean smiled and Sam felt his stomach tighten. Was this really Dean’s idea of a date?

Sam heard it before he could respond; the voice was faint, but it was definitely there. “Bb,” it said.

Sam wheeled around and faced Angelo, his heart suddenly racing. Angelo was looking up at him, eyes pleading. “Was that you?” Sam asked him.

“Was what him?” he heard Dean ask from behind him. Angelo was at war with himself, and Sam could see it over his face.

“Angelo?”

Angelo’s face hardened and he suddenly looked different, scary somehow. “Was what me?”

“I heard you,” Sam said. “You called me Bb.”

“What’s that?” Dean asked.

“I didn’t call you anything,” Angelo said. His voice was emotionless; it made Sam’s insides cold to hear it that way. Angelo leaned forward. “Why are you even talking to me?” he asked.

Sam bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. He ignored the cracking feeling in his heart and felt his face harden as well. “I don’t know,” he said and was surprised by how level his voice was. “You’re not even worth my time, anymore.” He turned back around and faced Dean.

“You’re not worth mine either. That’s why I dumped you.” Sam’s whole face crumbled and Dean saw it. Tears blurred his vision, but through the liquid film, he could still see Dean get up, his face contorted with rage.

“Dean, no,” Sam said. He blinked and felt the first tear fall. Dean looked at him, and even through his tears, Sam could see that he was forcing himself not to go back and hit Angelo.

“Why not?” the New Yorker asked.

“Please, just don’t,” Sam said, wiping away the water that was flooding his face. “It’s not worth it.” Dean shot one more filthy look at Angelo and sat back down just in time. Mr. Small came back into the room and his eyes immediately fell on Sam.

“Mr. Michaels?” he asked, and Sam heard genuine concern in the man’s voice for the first time since he’d met him. “Mr. Michaels, are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sam said, trying desperately to keep his voice steady. “I think I just need to get some air.”

“By all means,” the teacher said, holding out his arm in the direction of the door. Sam got up and stepped out into the hallway. He backed into the wall and slid downwards, willing the tears to go away.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the teacher’s voice drifted out from the classroom.

“I’m getting out of here,” he heard Angelo say. Was he crazy?

“You’re in detention.”

“Gee, I hadn’t realized that.”

“Sit down, Mr. Mudd!” the teacher shouted.

“Fuck you,” Angelo said, and then Sam heard footsteps coming towards the door. He stared pointedly at his knees, trying desperately to think of something that would keep him from looking up at Angelo when he stormed out of the classroom once more. Angelo bumped his shoulder on the doorframe on the way out of the room and cried out in pain; instinctually, Sam looked up. Their eyes met and Sam felt that electricity shoot down his spine. He forced himself to tear his gaze away from Angelo’s dark, yet somehow pleading eyes. Angelo sighed and walked up the hall.

Sam watched him go, and his insides seared as Angelo’s words stung him once more. He had to get over this; he refused to spend the rest of his life wiping away tears every time Angelo Mudd looked at him the wrong way. He dried his face one more time and got to his feet; there was still time in detention to serve.

Forty-five minutes and thirty-two pages of Sam’s book later, Mr. Small told Sam and Dean that they were free to go. The two of them walked out into the hallway and Sam headed straight for his locker.

“Where are you going?” Dean asked from behind him.

Sam turned around and faced him. “I have books that I need to get out of my locker. I’ve got homework, tonight.”

“I’ll go with you,” Dean said.

Sam fought the smile that tried to claim his face. “You don’t have to do that, really.”

“I want to.”

Sam pretended to think about it. “Ok,” he said before turning around and continuing to walk.

“So…um, what are you doing later?” Dean asked, having to take unusually long strides to catch up to Sam.

“Homework,” Sam said, smiling.

“I meant after that,” Dean said.

They stopped at Sam’s locker and Sam once again pretended to think as he spun in his combination. “Sleep.” He pulled the lever, but his locker wouldn’t open.

“You have that much homework?”

“Yeah,” Sam said, pulling at the lever once again; still it would not budge. He looked up at the number to make sure that he had the right locker.

“Ok, what about before?”

Annoyance flared inside Sam. Dean saw this and backed away. “No,” Sam said, noticing the change in Dean’s demeanor. “It’s not you. I don’t understand why the locker won’t open. Just give me a second.” Sam spun in the combination once more and pulled. The locker clanged open at last.

“Wow,” Dean joked. “You can’t talk and open a locker at the same time?” He laughed.

Sam looked at him, trying not to laugh, and trying not to think about how much Dean’s question had reminded him of Angelo, who used to joke with him about the same thing. “Aren’t you the one that’s trying to get a date?” Dean stopped laughing at once. “Thought so,” Sam said smugly.

“So…?” Dean asked after a moment of silence.

“So…what?” Sam said, smiling. He found it weird that they were having the exact same exchange twice in one afternoon.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna go out with me?”

Sam really did think about it this time. Was he really ready to go on a date? Could he go and have fun without getting upset and ruining Dean’s opinion of him forever? He wasn’t sure. But he wanted to try. “My week is pretty full,” he said. Dean sighed and nodded, looking mildly crestfallen. “What?”

“You’re blowing me off,” he said. “I understand.”

Sam laughed at the image that popped into his head. “If you’d let me finish,” he said. “I was trying to say my week is pretty full, can you fit me in Friday night?”

Dean’s eyes lit up. “I can fit you in any night you’d like.” They both laughed.

“What time should I be ready?”

“Do you have a curfew?”

“No,” Sam said. He didn’t think he had one, at least. He made a mental note to ask his parents about that when he saw them.

“Then how about six-thirty?”

Sam thought that was an odd time. He was sure that Dean wanted to meet up later, which was why he’d asked the curfew question. “You plan on keeping me out all night?”

“Maybe,” Dean said, slyly.

Sam nodded. “I’ll pack a change of clothes,” he joked.

“Do that,” Dean said. Sam laughed. He realized that his locker had been sitting open and he hadn’t gotten out a single book. He took out the books that he’d need for the night and closed the locker.

“Do you need to go to yours?” he asked, looking at Dean.

“Nah, I never do homework.”

The two of them walked out of the building and into the dull September sunshine.

“You want me to walk you home?” Dean asked.

“You’re just going for all the brownie points, aren’t you?”

“No. I just thought if you can’t talk and open a locker at the same time, how are you gonna walk home and think about me at the same time?”

Sam pursed his lips. “Just for that, I’ll walk home by myself.” He started walking. Dean fell into step next to him. “What are you doing?”

“You can’t stop me from following you, it’s a free country.”

“Free country or not, I think that’s called stalking.”

“Only if I watch you from outside your window. Besides,” Dean said, “I’m gonna have to know where to pick you up from, right?”

Sam smiled. He hadn’t actually expected Dean to pick him up; he’d just thought that they’d meet up somewhere. “Yeah, I guess,” he said. When they passed off of school property, Dean reached out and took Sam’s hand. Sam’s breath caught in his throat as an electric current ran up his arm. He fought the urge to pull away because he didn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings. It just still didn’t feel right to him for someone besides Angelo to be holding his hand, but then he thought of the last thing that Angelo had said to him. He nodded and forced the feelings to the back of his mind.

When Sam pulled Dean onto his street Dean stopped. “Do your parents know?”

“About what?” Sam asked confused. Dean gestured down towards their still intertwined hands. “Oh, yeah. They’re not thrilled, but they know.” Dean nodded and they started walking again. When they got to Sam’s door, Dean let go of his hand.

“I’ve just got one question,” he said. “And I’m not trying to upset you by asking it.”

Sam braced himself. “What is it?”

“What you said Angelo called you back in the classroom: what does that mean?”

Sam thought for a moment. “Bb. It was his pet name for me. It means Baby Boy.” He looked down at the ground. “I was his Baby Boy and he was my Angel.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said. “I just wanted to know. Like I said, I wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“It’s alright,” Sam lied. He bid Dean goodnight and went inside.

Once he was up in his room, Sam sat down and looked around. Almost everything in the room reminded him of Angelo, and he felt certain that before long, that fact would start to drive him crazy. Sam fell backwards onto the mattress and stared up at his ceiling.

He drifted off to sleep wondering if he would be able to fix himself before Friday night.