Chapter One

“Time’s up,” Dr. Jonathan Miller obediently informed his patient. Aiden Richards gave his psychiatrist a passing glance before grabbing his bag and leaving the room. Jonathan sighed in frustration as he watched Aiden go. Aiden had been his patient for nearly six months, and he was ready to give up. It was hard to admit defeat, but it seemed painfully clear that there was nothing he could do to help the troubled teenager. He had tried in vain to get Aiden to open up, but the boy had remained stubbornly mute, except for a few well-placed explicatives. Their last few meetings had been almost completely silent. Aiden would walk in, set his bag down, and sprawl out on the couch for a mental nap. Dr. Miller had started using the hour and twenty minutes scheduled for Aiden’s session to catch up on other work, only speaking to tell Aiden their time was up. Dr. Miller was troubled he had allowed their time to deteriorate into this, not that their time together was ever particularly insightful, but he’d never met a person who so stubbornly refused help.

The harsh sound of Dr. Miller’s ringing phone broke his uneasy reverie. He knew who was calling. She always called directly after their sessions. She had so much hope for her son, and he hated to let her down every week.

“Dr. Richards,” Dr. Miller answered solemnly, “I’m afraid he as was silent as ever.” He heard a sigh of pain and frustration escape her lips. “Honestly, I’m not sure what else to do,” he continued. “Nothing conventional seems to be working for him. I’ve tried to take it slowly, to gain his trust, but Aiden won’t give me anything to work with. He won’t speak, won’t even return a simple hello. He brings his journals back empty and refuses to participate in any activities. I’m sorry, but I simply can’t force him to contribute.”

Aiden’s mother, Dr. Rebecca Richards, nodded into the phone. “I understand,” she replied sadly. “I’m afraid he may need the kind of care he can only receive in a facility.”

“I don’t think that’s advisable,” Dr. Miller stated thoughtfully. “Putting him in a facility may only increase his resentment.”

“I know,” Dr. Richards agreed, “but I have to do something for him. I thought, with enough time, he’d get better, but he hasn’t.”

“This is a difficult situation,” Dr. Miller explained sympathetically. “Emotional wounds are hard to heal. If you’re expecting him to wake up one day and be the son you lost, then I’m afraid you’re searching for miracles. I’m not in the line of miracles, Dr. Richards. When Aiden’s ready, he’ll let us know. Until then, I have to say there’s not much I can do for him.”

“Can you think of anything?” Rebecca pleaded.

Dr. Miller was silent a moment before he answered Aiden’s mother. “There is a program I’m involved with. It’s called Hand-In-Hand.”

“I’m not familiar with it,” Dr. Richards admitted.

“It’s a program which might benefit Aiden,” Dr. Miller explained. “He’d have to be coaxed into some interaction though for it to work. I don’t have time to explain it to you right now. I have a patient waiting. Perhaps you could stop by my office this afternoon, and we could go over the details.”

“Alright,” Dr. Richards agreed.

“I will be expecting you around five thirty then?” Dr. Miller questioned.

“That will be fine,” Rebecca assured him before ending the call.

*****

Aiden left the room quickly and scaled the two flights of stairs to the street below. Outside he sighed deeply, happy to escape his weekly torment in hell. It was a good forty minute walk from his psychiatrist’s office on the busy west side of town to his home in the suburbs. The walk was the only thing that got him through the torture of sitting in that damn room with that damn doctor watching him like he knew something about him. His mother might not realize it, but he actually did have better things to do with eighty minutes of his life every week than sit on an ugly couch and count dots on the ceiling. Forcefully pushing the thoughts out of his mind, he gazed absentmindedly at the mountains that ringed his hometown. The mountains were one of the few places that hadn’t been tainted by one horrific experience or another.

“Aiden!” Jessi laughed when he walked onto the playground beside the local elementary school.

“Are you ready to go?” Aiden questioned his baby sister. He then sent a small wave towards the teacher watching over the kids in the afterschool program. Aiden walked his sister home from school every day. Normally, he picked her up on time when the first bell rang, which was easy enough to do since the high school students got out fifteen minutes before the elementary school students. This was mostly so the majority of inexperienced and often reckless high school drivers had a chance to get away before the busses carrying younger students loaded. However, Friday evenings, his sister had to wait outside on the playground or in the gym, if it was raining or cold, for him to finish with his weekly psychological evaluation.

“Yeah,” Jessi answered as she grabbed her backpack and Aiden’s hand.

“How was your day?” Aiden asked, genuinely interested in his sister’s life. She was active and social and always had some new story to tell. Sometimes it seemed to Aiden that she was, in almost all respects, the very opposite of him.

“Great!” Jessi yelled enthusiastically with the high-pitched voice of a seven-year-old girl. “In art, we made these big masks with this sticky paper and then we got to paint them. I painted mine pink. I don’t get to bring it home though. It has to dry first. Do you wanna see it?”

“Of course,” Aiden replied. “I’ll see it when you bring it home.”

His sister continued to ramble on about all the things she had done during the day, but Aiden was no longer really listening. Instead, he was staring at the little girl clutching his hand as he walked her home from school. Aiden had always been protective of his little sister, but since she’d turned seven three months before, he’d started to constantly worry about her. He supposed it had to be because seven was such a memorable year for him. It was the year his mother had remarried, the year his whole life had changed. He supposed that once he must have been a lot like Jessi, carefree and vivacious. In fact, if he thought about it hard enough and long enough, he could almost remember being so. It’d been a long time since he was seven though, and those happy memories were oftentimes blocked out by the more horrifying ones of his later childhood.

Jessi was his half-sister. She was the result of his mother’s second marriage, and the only reason Aiden didn’t try to erase those years completely from his memory. If it wasn’t for the obvious age difference between the older brother and the younger sister, the two could easily have been twins. They both possessed the same slightly curling, dark brown hair streaked with auburn highlights, but Jessi’s hair flowed down to her waistline while Aiden kept his short. They both carried the same slight, pale build with delicate features and, set deeply in their oval faces, were the same brilliant green eyes, but while Jessi’s eyes sparkled with an inner light of youthful innocence, Aiden’s eyes seemed dull and weary. It was the only sign that Aiden and his sister were growing up with two different childhoods.

“Aiden, are you listening to me?” Jessi whined.

“No, sorry,” Aiden answered shamefully. “What were you saying?” This time he listened closer as his sister spun those fanciful tales all children are capable of at that age.

*****

“Hello,” Dr. Richards greeted Aiden’s doctor. Dr. Miller returned her greeting and motioned for her to enter into his office.

“Why don’t you tell me about this program?” Dr. Richards questioned as she followed behind Dr. Miller. After Aiden’s previous psychiatrist had been stalemated by Aiden’s refusal to speak, she had referred Aiden to his current psychiatrist, Dr. Miller. She was always surprised by how young Dr. Miller looked, except in the eyes. Some days his eyes seemed ageless, no doubt a result of being the vessel of every patient’s horrors.

“Would you like something to drink?” Dr. Miller offered. “Water, coffee, tea?”

“Tea would be fine,” Aiden’s mother answered, taking a seat on the couch her son had occupied a few hours before.

“The program I’m involved with is called Hand-In-Hand, which I’ve already told you,” Dr. Miller began to explain, as he handed Rebecca her tea. “This is a program designed to help troubled kids by giving them mentors. These mentors are typically other children, usually older, who have had and successfully overcome similar experiences.”

“You believe giving my son a mentor will be helpful?” Rebecca questioned, sounding doubtful.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Miller admitted, shrugging lightly. “I’m hesitant to place Aiden in this program because it is only loosely supervised by adults. In the past, we’ve had very good results, but seldom have we admitted participants as hostile as Aiden.”

“Well, what is it that you want to do, Dr. Miller?” Dr. Richards questioned, feeling confused.

“Have you ever met my son, Eric, Dr. Richards?” Dr. Miller questioned.

“I don’t believe I have,” Dr. Richards answered truthfully.

“My ex-wife and I married quickly after we met, far too quickly. The only good thing that came from our union was Eric and Evelyn,” Dr. Miller explained as he took his usual seat after handing Dr. Richards her tea. “After three years and two children, we divorced. My ex-wife and I settled on joint custody. Then, when Eric was twelve, my ex-wife remarried. I was hesitant about the whole relationship. After our divorce, Janet, my ex-wife, went through a string of unhealthy relationships. At the same time though, I hoped her new marriage would bring stability to the children’s lives. Everything seemed fine for about two years until Eric tried to commit suicide.”

Rebecca nodded empathetically.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I believe Eric and Aiden could relate. If Aiden would give him a chance, that is. Eric has come a long way in the past three years, and I believe Aiden could learn from him,” Dr. Miller admitted hopefully.

“Aiden will just refuse,” Aiden’s mother observed regretfully.

“When I spoke with you the other day, you said something about having to go out of the country for a while,” Dr. Miller commented.

“Yes,” Dr. Richards confirmed. “I’m going to be working in England for about a month.”

“Why don’t you let Aiden stay with me while you’re gone?” Dr. Miller offered. “I’d look after him, and he’d be forced to deal with Eric.”

“Are you allowed to take a patient into your home?” Dr. Richards questioned in concern.

“It’s kind of my latch ditch effort,” Dr. Miller admitted. “If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what else to do.”

*****

“Aiden,” Rebecca called.

“Mom?” Aiden questioned.

“How was your day?” Rebecca asked her son hesitantly, dreading his reaction to what she was going to tell him.

“It was fine,” he answered coming into the kitchen where she was pulling out dishes to make spaghetti.

“What about your visit with Dr. Miller?” she questioned.

“Fine,” Aiden shrugged and sat down in a chair.

“You didn’t speak to him?” his mother pressed, frowning.

“There’s nothing to speak to him about,” Aiden replied nonchalantly.

“He’s just trying to help you,” Rebecca pushed gently.

“I don’t need or want his help,” Aiden replied, an edge to his voice. He hated when his mother brought up his psychiatrist. He couldn’t comprehend why it was so difficult for her to understand that he didn’t need to talk about it. He just wanted to be left alone so he could forget about the whole thing.

“Aiden,” his mother said softly, “it’s good to talk about things. It helps.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Aiden replied sharply.

“Dr. Miller and I believe it would be good for you if you stay with him while I’m in Europe,” his mother announced and then braced herself for her son’s wrath.

“What?” he demanded, stunned by what she just said.

“Dr. Miller believes it will be helpful in opening your lines of communication,” she continued.

“No. Fucking. Way.” Aiden hissed coldly at his mother.

“I’ve already made the arrangements,” she replied, trying to keep her voice level and in control.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. What part of ‘I don’t want to talk about it’ is so hard to understand?” he demanded furiously.

“It will be good for you,” Rebecca soothed, trying to placate her son.

“What?! It’s too hard to deal with me so you want to pawn me off on someone else!” he demanded.

“Aiden, it’s only while I’m away in Europe,” his mother replied.

“Oh yes,” Aiden remarked coldly, “those wonderful trips to Europe. If it wasn’t for those damn trips, I probably wouldn’t need a therapist in the first place.”

“Aiden, that’s not fair,” his mother begged.

“Fair! How dare you talk to me about what’s fair?” Aiden screamed.

“You’re going,” Dr. Richards said with finality before turning away from her son.

“You don’t even know him,” Aiden screamed in frustration. “For all you know he’s just some perverted bastard.”

“Dr. Miller seems to be a very nice man,” she replied.

“That’s what you said about Andrew,” Aiden replied coldly as he left the room. “I’m going to Jaydin’s,” he called as he slammed the front door.

*****

“I cannot believe she’s doing this to me!” Aiden yelled angrily as he stormed into Jaydin’s bedroom and threw himself on the other boy’s bed.

Jaydin had been playing Oblivion on his computer but quickly turned his attention to his distressed best friend. Jaydin was use to Aiden’s antics, and his recurrent, and sometimes unpredictable, bouts of rage. Jaydin stood up from his computer chair and stretched. Aiden looked up as the other teenager regarded him thoughtfully.

“Doing what to you?” Jaydin asked, picking up a pillow Aiden had knocked off his bed and throwing it at the sullen boy sprawled out on his comforter.

Aiden caught the pillow and sent Jaydin a death glare before angrily squeezing the pillow in his hands. Jaydin was his best friend. They’d known each other practically since birth. They’d grown up together. Jaydin was the one person in the world he really trusted, but there were a lot of things his best friend didn’t know about him, a lot of things he never wanted Jaydin to know about him.

Jaydin stood up from the computer chair and stretched his arms high over his head. At six foot one, Jaydin towered over Aiden by nearly six inches. Jaydin was a basketball star, well on his way to becoming the captain of the team, and he had the trim, toned body to show for it. Jaydin lowered his arms and stared down at Aiden, several strands of straight dark brown blond hair falling in front of his left, chocolate eye.

“She’s sending me to stay with Dr. fucking Miller while she’s in Europe. Can you believe that?” Aiden demanded furiously.

“Dr. Miller? Your psychiatrist?” Jaydin questioned, leaning back against the computer desk he’d just been sitting in front of.

“Yes, that fucking bastard,” Aiden hissed.

“Why?” Jaydin asked in surprise.

“I don’t know,” Aiden rolled his eyes. “Some dumb fuck answer about opening lines of communication or some stupid shit.”

“I’m sure it’ll be all right,” Jaydin replied calmly. It was his job to mediate the situation, to protect Aiden from the world or perhaps the world from Aiden. These days it was hard to figure out who suffered the worst brunt of the conflict. Some days it seemed like Aiden could dish out one hell of verbal thrashing.

Aiden glared at Jaydin, and Jaydin shrugged at the unspoken suspicion in Aiden’s eyes. Aiden didn’t trust his psychiatrist, and Jaydin knew that. Hell, Aiden didn’t really trust anyone anymore.

“Look, if he tries anything with you just give me a call. You know I’ll be right there. I’ve got your back,” Jaydin comforted.

“Bastard had better keep his damn hands to himself,” Aiden muttered coldly. Jaydin choose to ignore the snide comment. “What are you doing?” Aiden asked, glancing at Jaydin’s computer screen.

“Playing Oblivion,” Jaydin shrugged and took a seat back in front of his computer screen.

“Can I stay over?” Aiden questioned.

“Sure,” Jaydin answered. He didn’t bother to ask his mother if it was ok. Aiden practically lived at his house. His mother wouldn’t care.

“All right, thanks. I’m gonna go take a shower,” Aiden called as he lifted himself off of Jaydin’s bed. Aiden walked over to Jaydin’s closet and pulled out some of his own clothes. Having known Jaydin for the majority of his fifteen years, he’d amassed quite a wardrobe at his best friend’s house, sometimes to his best friend’s annoyance. Holding the night clothes, Aiden left Jaydin’s room and headed for the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Aiden emerged from Jaydin’s bathroom dressed in thin, blue silk pants and a plan, white shirt. “When’s dinner?” Aiden asked Jaydin as he threw his dirty clothes in Jaydin’s hamper. He’d get them back eventually.

“Like an hour,” Jaydin answered, his attention still focused on the computer game.

Aiden rolled his eyes and lay back down on Jaydin’s bed. He leaned over the edge to Jaydin’s bedside table and reached down to open the bottom drawer. Aiden kept most of his things in the bottom drawer, and in the back, he kept a writing notebook. He knew Jaydin respected his privacy and wouldn’t snoop. He felt comfortable leaving his personal writings in Jaydin’s possession.

Aiden grabbed a pen from the top of the table and leaned back against Jaydin’s headboard. He flipped open the notebook to the last page he’d been working on. He’d just finished a short fairytale about a mistreated prince who ran away to find a scepter that would give him the power to defeat the evil dragon that had taken over his father’s realm. Now he was outlining a new piece. He knew it was silly, being a teenage boy who wrote children’s fantasy stories. But he’d started them as a way of escape when he was little, and now they’d become a central part of his personality. He had to write. There was no away around it. The stories would circle around in his brain and pester his thoughts, demanding to take form, until he sat down and wrote. Writing cleared everything from his mind. For a few precious moments, he could forget everything, the pain, the humiliation, the fear. Everything.

“Dinner’s ready,” Jaydin’s younger brother, Robert, called before repeatedly banging on Jaydin’s door.

“OK, I heard you!” Jaydin yelled at his brother in annoyance. Aiden heard Robert laugh and run back towards the kitchen. Jaydin huffed in annoyance and turned off his computer monitor. “Ready?” Jaydin questioned, looking at Aiden hunched over his notebook. He knew how much Aiden enjoyed his writings and hadn’t failed to notice how a few hours spent immersed in his fairytales could vastly improve his best friend’s mood.

“Yeah,” Aiden answered, closing his notebook and hiding it back in Jaydin’s table. Then he moved off the bed and followed Jaydin into the kitchen. Jaydin’s mother was busy setting food out on the counter while his father was setting the table. Robert had already grabbed a plate and was impatiently waiting for his mother to say they could begin collecting food. Jaydin sent a glare towards his nine-year-old brother and picked up his own plate. Aiden followed suit and waited for the rest of Jaydin’s siblings to barrel in. At sixteen, Jaydin was the oldest of four. Sara and Rachel followed in closely together before Robert, completing the family.

“How are you doing?” Jaydin’s father, Mark Carr, questioned.

“Fine,” Aiden answered.

“That’s good. We haven’t seen you around the last couple days. We were starting to wonder what happened to our fifth kid,” Mark teased.

“Yeah, mom wanted to see me,” Aiden shrugged. “Can’t imagine why though.”

“Well, you’re always welcome here,” Jaydin’s mother, Meggie, replied. “Here, just help yourselves,” she said as she stepped out of the way of the five kids standing in line for food. “I feel like a soup kitchen,” she added as she pulled beverages from the fridge.

“Aww come on, you know you have a soft spot for us poor, unfortunate souls,” Jaydin smiled as he took a seat at the table.

“More like snobby and rottin’,” his father shot back at him.

“I’m not snobby!” Jaydin defended wildly. “Aiden, when have I ever been snobby?”

“I don’t know. You were pretty snobby to Melissa when she asked you out,” Aiden replied, taking a seat next to Jaydin.

“Yeah, like I was going to date that slut,” Jaydin countered.

“Jaydin!” Meggie hissed at her eldest son. “I won’t tolerate that kind of language in my house.”

“Come on, she’s slept with half the school and every other guy on the basketball team. Is that really the kind of girl you want me to bring home?” Jaydin demanded.

“Well, you could show some tact,” Meggie instructed, jabbing a fork at Jaydin.

“That is so sexist of you!” Rachel shrieked, glaring at her brother. At fourteen, Rachel was a year behind Jaydin and Aiden. “It’s not like you’re some fresh, untouched virgin! But that’s OK because you’re a guy! You’re allowed to be a slut!”

“Rachel,” Meggie scolded. “Do not use that language, and don’t talk that way to your brother.”

“Hey, I am a virgin!” Jaydin defended. “I am!” he repeated when his mother gave him a doubtful look. “I can’t believe you don’t believe me. Your own son!”

“That’s all right, Jay,” his father cut in, “just don’t bring anyone home pregnant, and we’ll be good.”

“That’s a little hard to do considering I’m a virgin,” Jaydin drawled and glared at his plate.

“You tired?” Jaydin questioned as he and Aiden entered Jaydin’s bedroom after dinner.

“Yeah,” Aiden nodded, throwing himself on Jaydin’s bed.

“All right, I’m headed downstairs,” Jaydin remarked. He grabbed a change of clothes and headed towards the bathroom. He’d sleep downstairs on the couch, as he usually did when Aiden stayed over. Aiden hated to sleep in the same room with anyone else. Jaydin could only imagine why but desperately tried not to. The images he conjured in his head were the stuff of nightmares, but intuitively he knew they were nothing compared to the reality Aiden had faced.

*****

“Morning,” Jaydin announced, popping his head into his bedroom.

“God, Jay,” Aiden muttered, opening his eyes to peek at the blinking alarm clock, “it’s seven o’clock in the fucking morning.”

“Some of the guys from the park are having a tournament today,” Jaydin explained, pulling a green basketball uniform with yellow and white trim from his drawer. “Wanna come?”

“Watch you strut around half naked for a bunch of rowdy fan girls,” Aiden snorted. “I’ll pass.”

“Basketball is not strutting!” Jaydin laughed, throwing a random book at Aiden’s head. Aiden easily moved out of the book’s path and glared at his best friend. “And I’m not half naked either!”

“Not yet,” Aiden muttered, lying his head back on the pillow as Jaydin turned to leave the room.

“I heard that,” Jaydin yelled back as he went to the bathroom to change.

Three hours later Aiden awoke to an empty room. Jaydin was gone. His tournament started at eight. Aiden could hear noise coming from downstairs and knew the rest of Jaydin’s family was starting there Saturday morning. Aiden always felt uncomfortable engaging Jaydin’s family when Jaydin was absent but knew perfectly well his feelings were unfounded. Deciding he was hungry enough to risk a few awkward moments, Aiden pulled himself out of bed and headed down to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Meggie greeted warmly. “We’re having breakfast casserole. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, thank you,” Aiden answered softly, taking a seat next to Rachael. He consciously squashed down his nerves and sat still as Jaydin’s mother fixed a plate for him.

“What would you like to drink?” Meggie questioned. “We have orange juice.”

“Orange juice would be fine, thanks,” Aiden continued quietly.

“You can speak up, dear,” Meggie laughed, handing Aiden the cold glass. “We don’t bite when Jaydin’s away, you know?”

Aiden forced a smile and hoped Meggie would accept it.

“And where is Jaydin?” Rachael demanded.

“He went to a basketball tournament this morning,” Aiden answered.

“Off to strut his stuff,” Rachael snorted.

“Rachael,” Meggie chided in exasperation. “He’s playing a sport.”

“He’s showing off for those sluts,” Rachael snapped back.

“It’s not his fault they’re there,” Aiden defended, knowing his best friend wasn’t as bad as people tried to make him out to be. Even if Aiden did give Jay a hard time for his inevitable popularity as a star athlete.

“Have you seen this story, Meggie?” Mark asked, coming into the kitchen and turning on the small television mounted to the cabinets next to the sink. Aiden and Rachael both turned to watch the small screen.

“Police are still stunned by the story of twenty-three year old Alex Phillips. The young man was recently arrested during a raid at the popular club Sundown. Alex was reported missing nearly eight years ago at the age of fifteen. Police believed he was kidnapped when walking home from school. What makes this case so miraculous for the Phillips family is that Alex Phillips was declared dead nearly five years ago after remains were found in a wooded area near his home. The investigation into the true identity of those remains has begun. At this time, Alex has not been cooperative with the police. There has been some speculation that Alex might be charged with prostitution; however, authorities have denied these claims calling Alex a victim of sex trafficking.”

Aiden’s eyes had widened at the mentioning of Sundown. It was a notorious hellhole in the circles he’d run with. Men and women alike would cut off their own right hand to stay out of that living nightmare. And this guy had survived there for eight years! Aiden took a closer look at the picture presented on the screen. He had a long, sunken face that still held traces of attractiveness marred by years of drug abuse. Vibrant, but stringy, red hair hung loosely around his shoulders. Small, gray eyes stared out almost lifelessly from the sallow face. He looked rough, but the fact he’d survived at all was to his credit. It was no wonder the guy wasn’t talking to the police. Now that he was out and his face was plastered across the morning news, his kidnappers might just let him make a life for himself. But if he started blabbing to the police, Aiden would bet his sister’s soul that Alex would wind up with a bullet buried between his eyes.

“Aiden,” Meggie repeated loudly, breaking Aiden’s focus on his thoughts. Surprised, he looked to see Meggie watching him worriedly. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No,” Aiden stuttered slightly. He looked back to the television screen to see the news anchor had happily moved on to the next topic of interest for the day.

“What are your plans for the day?” Meggie continued to question, dragging Aiden’s attention farther from the man on the screen. Aiden wondered if Meggie suspected some connection between Aiden and the man on the television. Really there wasn’t. Aiden had never seen that man before, and he’d never set foot on the premises of Sundown. Still its reputation preceded it.

Aiden shrugged in response. “I might wait for Jaydin to get back.” Meggie nodded, and Aiden returned to his breakfast. Finishing quickly, he hurried back up to the shelter of Jaydin’s bedroom.

Stretching out on Jaydin’s bed, Aiden reached over and opened Jaydin’s bottom drawer. He pulled out his writing notebook, but once he mulled over the idea, Aiden found he really didn’t have any interest in writing. Instead, he put his notebook away and crossed Jaydin’s room to his closet. Aiden opened the door to his side of the closet and pushed the clothes out of the way so he could see Jaydin’s wall. Both sidewalls in Jaydin’s closet contained bookshelves. Jaydin’s side held a collage of various magazines including Sports Illustrated and Play Boy. Aiden’s side held a few select pieces from his book collection. Glancing through the titles quickly, Aiden pulled out The Pillars of the Earth, a book he’d been reading off and on for the last couple of weeks.

*****

“Hey, you’re still here,” Jaydin commented, coming into his bedroom followed closely by Michael.

“Yeah,” Aiden replied, looking up from his book to see Michael standing in the doorway. Aiden shot him a cold glare before glancing at the alarm clock. It was almost four o’clock in the afternoon. Jaydin hadn’t said anything about Michael coming over, and if he had, Aiden was certain he wouldn’t have stayed. Michael returned Aiden’s glare but didn’t comment. The two shared a mutual dislike of one another, but also a mutual friendship with Jaydin.

“We’re not staying,” Jaydin announced, rummaging through his closet. Jaydin knew how much Aiden despised Michael though he wasn’t sure why. Jaydin pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a polo shirt. “There’s a party tonight at Darlene’s. Michael’s practically salivating at the thought of asking her out.”

“At the thought of getting in her pants,” Aiden muttered, flicking his gaze back down to his book.

“I’m going to have that girl begging to go down on me,” Michael smirked at him, having clearly overheard his comment.

Aiden pointedly ignored the disgusting and upsetting remark and focused more on the words on the page. He hated how tactless men were towards sex. It wasn’t a game, and it sure as hell wasn’t a joke. There was nothing funny about being used.

“You wanna come?” Jaydin questioned, ignoring his two friends’ exchange as he headed towards the bathroom to change. Jaydin was still wearing the basketball outfit he’d donned that morning.

“Like hell,” Aiden answered shortly.

“It’ll be fun,” Michael pressed.

“A drunken orgy really isn’t my idea of fun,” Aiden snapped at him.

“Like you have an idea of fun,” Michael snorted, heading downstairs to wait for Jaydin.

“It’s a little early for a party, isn’t it?” Aiden questioned when Jaydin came back into the room.

“We’re going out for dinner first,” Jaydin explained. “You sure you don’t wanna come?”

“Positive,” Aiden muttered.

“All right, well, are you spending the night again?” Jaydin questioned.

Aiden paused to think. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll see you tonight then if you’re here,” Jaydin remarked. “If not, I’ll see you later.”

Aiden nodded as Jaydin left the room and collected Michael downstairs.