Hello, readers~ (sorry I always do a bit of an intro)

This is my main book (formerly namedVision) that I have started to rewrite. Updates may be fairly slow, since I am working on both this andViolet Skies, but hopefully, it will keep your interest!

**if you've read Looking for Alaska by John Green, you're probably familiar with the quote! I loved it, and it seemed to really fit the concept of my book as well as the main character. John Green and his books have helped inspire me a lot, and if you haven't read any of his books, then you definitely should!**

That being said, the title is sort of a work-in-progress, but right now, it's my pick of the litter. It's subject to change though, and if you have any suggestions, PLEASE, send me some!


A Great Perhaps

"I go to seek a great perhaps."

-Francois Rabelais

Chapter One—

Pryce had senioritis already, as much as he hated to admit it. He had a lot to do over the summer to prepare for senior year, but really, he just wanted to do absolutely nothing, which, he was sure, was not uncommon among his class. However, currently stuck in the middle of June with too much to do, he promptly avoided all his summer work by meeting a group of friends on the beach. Because partying and drinking by a bonfire would definitely be more fun than reading and sleeping through Wuthering Heights.

Outside, Logan honked her horn, beckoning for Pryce, who slinked out, carefully closing the door. He ran to the end of the driveway and opened the gate, a grin on his face.

"Hey, Logi-bear," he said, climbing into the passenger's seat of her car. He tossed his sweatshirt and beach towel into the backseat and buckled his seatbelt before putting on his sunglasses. "Can we get some Jaeger before we head over?"

Logan scoffed and started driving, turning the radio up as she replied, "Jaeger's gross. You're crazy." She flipped her sleek, dark ponytail off her shoulder and sped up.

Pryce snorted and pulled his phone out of his pocket as he shook his dark hair out of his eyes. "Whatever. Do you know who's coming tonight?"

"Uhhhm," Logan hummed. "Majority of the football team, cheerleading squad, all your doting bandies…."

Pryce groaned. "Wonderful. Because I want to spend more time with them than I already have to." Pryce, this year's drum major, had been with his "doting bandies" since late May. He was sick of all of them, and how they all still managed to adore him, he knew not.

"Are you already hating being drum major?" Logan laughed, looking over at him. She stopped at a red light.

Pryce quirked a brow. "Are you already hating being cheer captain?" he mocked, and Logan scrunched up her nose and looked off, shrugging.

"I see what you mean," she replied. "So, anyway. Yeah. A lot of people. Hey, have you read anything for English?

Pryce rolled his eyes. The light turned green, and Logan took off.

"What do you think?" Pryce mumbled.

"Me either," Logan admitted. "Let's sing!" She turned the music up louder, and Pryce shook his head.

He yelled over the music, "I don't sing!"

"You're no fun! Loosen up, baby! It's summah time!" she exclaimed, punctuating with a stream of howls.

Pryce bit his lip, holding back a giggle. Logan was right, so he laughed softly, inhaled slowly and sang along until they got to the beach.

"PRYCE!" chorused a crowd of people as Pryce and Logan made their way down the dunes. Pryce laughed quietly and scratched his neck as Logan elbowed him in the side, a smirk on her face.

"Everybody loves you, Bambi," she giggled, grabbing a fistful of his sweatshirt and pulling him into a hug. He stumbled, coiling his arms around her middle. A group of people, all familiar faces, made their way to Pryce and Logan.

"We thought you weren't comin', dude," Brian told him, pulling him away from Logan. Pryce's eyes widened as Brian hoisted him over his shoulder. "Glad you did, though." He planted a firm smack on Pryce's butt.

"Brian!" Pryce yelled. Brian carried him back to the bonfire and dropped him in the sand. Pryce groaned, sitting up. "Fuck you."

A gaggle of girls galloped over to him and offered to help him stand. Pryce stood on his own and walked away without thanking them.

"Logi, gimme my Jaeger," he said, sitting down beside her. Logan snorted and handed him a plastic cup and the bottle of Jaeger as the group of girls watched he and Logan's motions with jealous eyes.

"Party up," she said, taking a drink from her cup.

Pryce took a long gulp and settled his Solo Cup between his thighs as he wiped his mouth and looked away from the gaggle of soon-to-be juniors. He nudged Logan and leaned in, whispering in her ear,

"Do all of those poor little girls think I'm straight? Or are they just jealous that you're my fruit flag?"

Logan coughed, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"High hopes, right?"

Pryce leaned away, lifting his cup to his lips. "Hey, ignorance is bliss." He took another drink and looked back at the girls, some of which waved. He blinked. "Although, it's kind of sad…."

"Kind of?" Logan swiftly prompted. She handed him a stick with some marshmallows on it, a couple brown, a few black, burned from the fire, just the way he liked them.

"Oh. Thanks." He made a hole in the sand for his cup and stuffed a burned marshmallow into his mouth. "Mm. Guh."

Logan snorted quietly. "Are you getting wasted tonight?"

Pryce quirked a brow and swallowed. "Do I have Jaeger?"

"Good point. Here's to summer." She held up her cup, and Pryce tapped it with his and took a long, stinging gulp.

By the end of the night, the bonfire had died down almost completely, and Pryce was wasted but not too wasted to know he could absolutely not go home tonight. Logan was on his back, and he was trying to make his way up the sand dunes; however, weighted by giggles and intoxication, he failed, collapsing under Logan who simply cackled and rolled off of him.

"Good thing sand is soft," she piped. Pryce made a face and pulled out his phone.

"No way," he began with a hiccup, "am I letting you drive you or me or…I'm not in your…I'm not going with you. And your car…I'm...I'm call Richard," he went on to slur.

Logan laughed loudly. "What?"

Pryce pointed to her. "Richard. Is. Gonna. Get. Us."

Her eyes widened and she sat up on her knees. "He'll be mad."

"Oh, fuck him," Pryce scoffed. He called Richard on speed dial and slowly explained his and Logan's situation so Richard could pick them up.

"God damn it, Pryce. I'll be there soon. Don't leave."

"No shit, Farmer Ted," Pryce laughed, hanging up. He and Logan collapsed into a fit of giggles.

Logan coughed, shaking her head. "Farmer Ted…"

"Have you seen Sixteen Candles? Richard looked just like Anthony Michael Hall when he was younger," Pryce managed to slur.

Logan giggled. "Grew up to be a lot cuter."

"Euw," Pryce groused.

"Richard's sexy," Logan added. Pryce glared at her.

"Okay, euw."

After a moment of silence, Pryce looked over at her. "I can never watch that or The Breakfast Club without thinking of him."

Logan smirked. "So, he's coming?"

"Said he was," Pryce mumbled, yawning.

"Is he gonna be pissed?" Logan asked. Pryce just shrugged, looking around for his drink, which he remembered was all gone. He huffed.

"I doubt it. He didn't sound mad, and he's, like, never mad at me, anyway," Pryce laughed.

Logan giggled, too, downing the rest of her drink. "True," she added.

Pryce gave her a disdainful look. "Will you be able to go home, or will your father be so disappointed as to make a Geisha out of you?"

"Oh, shut up."

"I am genuinely concerned for your future, Logi-bear. Genuinely concerned."

Logan guffawed, resting her head on Pryce's shoulder. Pryce groaned and rolled away from her. He stood, offered a hand for her to take, which she did. Together, they continued up the dunes to the boardwalk, where they tried to be patient while waiting for Richard, but time just seemed to be passing too slowly.

"Where is he?" Logan uttered, tugging at her skirt, trying in vain to lengthen it.

"He's over there," Pryce sighed, pointing to Richard's grey-blue car as it parked. He took Logan's hand. "C'mon. Where you going?"

"Ross's," Logan sighed.

Pryce nodded. "Okay," he mumbled. They approached Richard's car and sat in the backseat.

"Hey," Richard snorted. "Where to?"

"Logan's boyfriend's, then I'm staying with you," Pryce told him. "Thanks for coming, Richard."

Richard rolled his eyes and pulled out into the street. "Of course. Brat. If I could ground you, I would."

"Yeah, well, you can't; you're just my uncle, so."

"Yeah, well, I can tell your dad how drunk you are," Richard threatened.

Pryce made a face. "No need to be malish…." Pryce frowned, unable to think of the word he wanted to use. "You're being mean, Richard," he said instead.

"Just hush up. Lush."

Pryce groaned, resting his head on Logan's shoulder. "Will you make me some lemon tea when we get home?"

"If it'll make you shut up and go to sleep, yeah," Richard answered.

Pryce flipped him off and slouched, shrugging. They dropped Logan off at her Ross's before heading to the house, where Richard fixed Pryce a huge mug of lemon tea.

"Holy fuck," Pryce mumbled as he cupped the mug with both hands and lifted it to his lips. He blew over the rim of the mug and watched the liquid ripple against his breath. "Big mug," he commented.

Richard sat down beside him. "It's yours. Remember?"

"I don't even remember what I ate for lunch, Richard," Pryce told him as he took a small sip.

"Go to bed."

Pryce pouted. "Fine." He stood and headed toward the foyer. "Don't wake me in the morning. Or afternoon."

"You have band camp tomorrow," Richard told him.

"Like shit I do," Pryce scoffed as he headed upstairs.

"You're drum major, you shit!"

"Whatever," Pryce called, walking into his bedroom. He closed the door behind him, set his mug on the dresser, and flopped down onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow.

Fuck band camp.

"Preston, if you don't shut the fuck up I will beat your ass like a snare drum; you got me?"

'Fuck band camp,' you said. 'Richard will let you sleep,' you said, Pryce thought.

It was too bright outside for this shit. Pryce readjusted his sunglasses and shook his hair out of his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. Preston stammered, giving Pryce a blank, doe-in-the-headlights expression. He nodded fervently, clutching his French horn. Pryce rolled his eyes.

Brass players, he thought, sneering at Preston.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other," Pryce said calmly, offering a sardonic grin.

"Shut up, brace face," muttered a trumpet payer. His smile disappeared. Where were his doting bandies now?

Gettin' real tired of your shit, brass section, he thought.

"Do you wanna run laps? Cause I'm really not in the mood for your unoriginal name calling," Pryce informed the girl.

"Sorry," she quipped, not seeming the least bit apologetic.

Running a hand through his hair, he let out an exasperated breath. "Look. You guys have to get this footwork down, but your shitty attitudes aren't helping. We're out here for another four hours, so I suggest you make the best of it. Just remember. I don't care about your petty problems. Okay?" He gave them another sarcastic smile.

The expressions of irritation and disdain didn't bother Pryce. It was ninety-eight degrees outside, and he had a hangover. Nothing could beat that.

He had Richard take him home after band camp so he could see his dad and Taylor before running off to Richard's again for the night. When he got home, he found Taylor playing video games on the couch. He didn't even acknowledge that Pryce was home.

"Hello, preteen," Pryce mumbled, ruffling Taylor's hair as he headed toward the kitchen. Taylor made a sound of discontent and sat up, scooting to the edge of his seat. Pryce rolled his eyes. "Father? You home?"

"He's at work," Taylor called. "Duh."

Pryce raised his brows. "Well, excuse me. Is no one else here then? Just you?"

Taylor paused his game and looked at Pryce over his shoulder. "Dude, I'm thirteen. I can stay home alone."

"Forgive me. I forgot you're an adult now," Pryce replied wryly. Taylor made a face at him.

"Are you gonna be home tonight?"

"No," Pryce said shortly before adding a mocking, "Duh."

Taylor frowned. "What? You're, like, going out?"

Pryce shrugged. "That's a possibility. I'm seventeen, y'know."

"Dork," Taylor mumbled, turning back to the TV. Pryce snorted, nodding as he headed to the stairs.

"Kay. I'm grabbing some clothes and heading to Richard's. He's waiting outside."

"Don't care."

With his brother's flippant attitude waiting for him at home and lack of presence his father chose to make, Pryce always felt so, so loved.

He pushed open his bedroom door and grabbed his cross country bag. He threw in a couple of t-shirts, a pair of skinny jeans, and some underwear as well as his phone charger and some clothes to sleep in.

"Uhhhhhm. Dad said you should, like, stay home tonight. Cause you were gone all day yesterday," Taylor was yelling as Pryce jogged downstairs.

Pryce gave him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? I've been in and out of here for the past two days, and I haven't seen him once."

"Probably cause you haven't been home," Taylor retorted.

Pryce huffed. "Maybe I'd be home more if he actually gave a shit about me," he mumbled, walking out without waiting for Taylor to respond. Based on Richard's expression, he could tell by the time Pryce got to the gate that he wasn't happy.

"What's the matter?" he asked as Pryce swung the car door open. He tossed his bag into the backseat, slammed the door, and settled in the passenger's seat.

"I hate my father," he said, angrily fastening his seatbelt. "But at least the feeling's mutual, huh?"

Richard sighed, shaking his head. "William doesn't hate you."

Pryce gave him a doubtful look. "I just wanna live with you."

"You can, if you want."

Pryce scoffed. "Like he'd let me."

"Who knows? He let you stay in Oregon for eleven years."

Pryce shrugged. Maybe it was worth asking. The worst William could do was say no.

"Absolutely not."

"Father, it's a reasonable question," Pryce tried to reason. He had, for some reason, thought it would be a good idea to ask William that night instead of staying at Richard's. Wrong. William was not having it.

"It is not reasonable. You moved to Redwood City to live with Taylor and me."

Pryce ran a hand through his hair. "I'm at his place half the time anyway, Father."

William sent him a pointed glance over his glasses. "Yes. I've been meaning to talk to you about that. However, you're never home." He took off his glasses and set them on top of the folded newspaper, which sat unread on the coffee table. Pryce looked down, closing his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm busy, Father…."

"Well, so am I, Pryce. Busier than you."

Pryce cringed, lifting his head, his hands dropping to his lap and eyes fluttering open, settling on William's hard stare.

"I'm going to England next week; Taylor's flying to New York to spend the rest of the summer with his mom."

Pryce quirked a brow. "Our mom?"

William gave him an exasperated look. "You can stay with Richard while I'm gone. I don't trust you here alone."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Pryce gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Fine."

"You're staying home until Tuesday, though."

Pryce pursed his lips. "Fine," he said again.

William stood, sweeping up his glasses and the paper. "I'm going to my office. Lose the attitude."

"Fine," he quipped, picking at a seam in his jeans.


Pryce wrinkled his nose and stood, avoiding eye contact with William. He straightened his black shirt and folded his arms across his chest as he shook his hair out of his eyes and bit his bottom lip in attempt to keep quiet.

"Can I go for a run?"

"I don't care," William answered. "Don't be late."

Pryce jogged upstairs to his room and changed into his less-than-modest, black running shorts and a white v-neck. He slipped on his running shoes and grabbed his iPod off his bed before leaving. He jogged to the nearby track, but that short run didn't let off near enough steam.

He put his earbuds in his ears and started running at a good pace, trying to clear his head, but he was so frustrated that William never listened to him that he was having a hard time doing just that. After a few laps around, he started feeling a little better and much happier; it'd been weeks since he'd gone to run just for the fun of it.

A cat-call distracted him from his content state of mind. He pulled out his earbuds and turned around, jogging backwards, frowning as he locked eyes with a tall, dark-haired boy. He was rather scruffy-looking, but his excited gin made up for it. Pryce felt his cheeks tingle as they tinged pink.

Slowing to a stop, he asked, "I'm sorry…have we met?"

The guy laughed softly, approaching him. He ran a hand through his brown hair and shook his head as he plucked at his navy t-shirt, obviously trying to cool himself. "Unfortunately, no," he replied, chuckling, his ocher eyes looking up from his feet. He then very blatantly gave Pryce the up-down. Pryce bit back a smirk.

How unfortunate, indeed.

"I'm Craig Dawson," he drawled. His breath was heavy; he was obviously not a regular runner. Pryce chuckled nervously.

"Uhm. Pryce Palmer," he managed to say. He cleared his throat. "Do you come running here often? I haven't been recently…."

Craig shook his head. "Oh. No way. I, uh, I'm just tryin' to get in shape, y'know, so." He punctuated with a crooked grin.

Pryce quirked a brow. "Where are you from?"

"Georgia," Craig told him. His accent was pretty thick, especially to Pryce's ears.

"Cute," Pryce snorted.

Craig rubbed his stubble with the back of his hand, his smirk widening. "Cute?"

"Your accent," Pryce specified. He bit his lip. "Well, Craig, welcome to California. It was nice to meet you."

"That it?" Craig prompted. "Not even a phone number?"

Pryce hesitated, scratching the back of his neck.

"I ain't lettin' you go," Craig warned him. His smirk grew wider still, morphing into a grin. "Give it."

Laughing, Pryce shook his head. "You're determined, huh?"

Craig nodded. "You bet."

"Fine," Pryce snorted, giving his number to Craig, who put it in his phone. He gave Pryce a wink.

"Dinner tomorrow?"

Pryce's face fell. "I…can't."

Craig frowned. "Oh…."

"I'm sort of grounded until Tuesday," he told Craig. "Just call me after that?"

"You can count on it," Craig promised.

Pryce blushed, looking down. "I've got to get home."

"Need a ride?"

Perhaps it was southern hospitality to offer rides to almost-strangers, but Pryce wasn't up for it. He shook his head, clearing his throat.

"No, no….I'm close by. Thanks, though."

"Well, hey, be careful. I'll call ya."

Pryce nodded, smiling softly as he waved goodbye. With nerves knotting up in the pit of his stomach, he headed home.

The next day, Channing called, begging Pryce to come visit. As much as Pryce wanted to, he wouldn't be done with daily band practice until mid-July, by which point William would be back in California; there was no way he'd let Pryce go to Oregon for the last half of summer.

"But we all miss you so much!" Channing whined.

Pryce flopped onto his bed and groaned into his pillow before rolling onto his back. He frowned, stretching and yawning. He was exhausted, and his whole body ached.

"I miss you all, too; I just probably won't be able to, and I've got band camp for another month." The thought alone made him want to scream in frustration.

"Your father sucks."

"I'm aware," Pryce muttered, sitting up. He opened his blinds slightly and peered outside, a smile quirking the corners of his mouth; it was drizzly outside.

"Roary's in town," Channing said. "Have you been talking to him?"

Pryce pouted, looking away from the window. "Roary's there? It's been a while since we talked; my email crashed, and I lost everything. The last mail I sent him, I asked for his number. That's just my luck."

"Jeez. I'll give him your number."

"Oh," Pryce said, blinking as he wrapped a loose thread from his comforter around his index finger. "Thanks, Chan."

Channing giggled. "Sure!"

Cringing, Pryce snorted. "Uhm. So. I was running the other night and got asked on a date."

"Ooh. Is he cute?"

Pryce shrugged. "Kind of scrawny for my usual taste, but he's pretty cute, yeah. Plus, he said he was starting to work out, so. Maybe he'll get some muscles," he laughed softly.

"So, you have a preference now?"

"Always have, I think."

Channing sighed. "You've come to terms with your sexuality?"

Pryce rolled his eyes. "Well. I. Yeah."

"When are you coming out?" Channing asked, sounding bored.

Pryce sneered at his phone. "When are you coming out?"

Huffing, Channing closed the conversation. "Well. Love ya. Call me later or whatever."

Pryce snorted. "Bye." He hung up and curled up in his comforter, twisting it into a cocoon of sorts. When he was almost asleep, a knock on his bedroom door startled him.

"Taylor and I are heading to the airport," William announced, straightening the collar of his black button-down. "Behave."

Pryce sat up, glowering in William's direction. "Kay."

"Richard will come get you in an hour, so get out of bed. Why are you sleeping in the middle of the day anyway?" William asked, giving Pryce a disapproving look.

"I'm, uh, tired?" Pryce supplied innately.


"Kay," Pryce snapped, crawling out of bed. "I'm going to shower. Have fun," he told them. He padded into his bathroom and slapped the door as he smacked his tongue in distaste; he had cotton mouth and grains in the corners of his eyes; he didn't want to be awake.

"Pryce. Watch the attitude. It better be gone when I get home," William warned.

Pryce turned on the water and scoffed.


Richard kept his mouth shut when he picked up Pryce, whose eyes were still narrowed and hair was still wet when he climbed into Richard's car. He huffed, mumbling a reluctant greeting as he slid into the passenger's seat and buckled his seat belt. Looking down at his lap, Pryce picked at his fingernails and yawned, whining as he slouched in his seat. After looking between the road and Pryce for a few minutes, Richard eventually said something.

"How 'bout some lemon tea when we get home?" he offered. "You can have the living room, curl up on the couch, take a nap….Good weather for that."

Pryce smiled softly, looking up and over at Richard. "Sounds nice. I've been exhausted the past few days."

"Get some rest when we get home. Oh, and about band camp—"

Pryce cut him off with a groan.

"It's cancelled."

Pryce raised his brows. "Seriously?"

Richard nodded, laughing. "I cancelled it. You need a break. You're going non-stop."

"Like I will be when school starts," Pryce reminded him.

"This is your summer, Pryce. Treat it as such."

A thunderstorm moved in as the day went by, though Pryce slept through it after a mug of tea. It wasn't until 4:30 in the morning that he toed downstairs in a sleepy haze to get a bottle of water. The thunder was louder than when he'd gone to lay down, and now, he was too agitated to rest. He sat on the couch for a good ten minutes, trying to decide what to do.

Richard startled him when he walked into the living room, his eyes sleepy.

"Thunder wake you?"

Pryce ran a hand through his hair. "Uhm. Yeah." He let out a heavy sigh and yawned, looking up at Richard with heavily-lidded eyes. "I hate thunder."

Richard walked over and pulled Pryce into a hug, patting his back gently. "I know…."

"But I guess I was done sleeping anyway."

"You, done sleeping?" Richard teased.

Pryce sneered at him. "Ha, ha, very funny. Tool."

Richard sat down beside him. "Only picking." When Pryce didn't respond, Richard continued, "So…you're dad said no to you moving in, huh? You never mentioned it again."

Scratching the back of his neck, Pryce nodded, rolling his eyes. "It was an absolute no. He said I need to be home more often, too." He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the back of the couch. "I don't know why he acts like he wants me around. I've lived here for almost two years, and he hasn't even tried to get to know me, Richard."

"I'm sorry, Pryce," Richard said after a minute. He offered a sympathetic smile and sighed, shaking his head. "William's not the most paternal person."

Pryce scoffed. "Please, defend him. I'm begging you. Give me some more reasons as to why he's so cold and negligent. He didn't even talk to me for eleven years, and out of nowhere, I was being forced to leave all my friends and my home to live with him. I don't even feel like family in my so-called 'home,' Richard; I feel like a guest. And an unwelcome one, at that," he punctuated with a huff. Slouching, he cast his eyes down, rather embarrassed by his outburst. He swallowed thickly, shaking his head as he tugged at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. "He doesn't know me. And if he did, he'd hate me. Fuck. Maybe I should tell him everything. Then, I might be able to come live here."

"Pryce," Richard interjected, lifting his chin. "William would not hate you. What could you even say that would make him hate you?"

Pryce looked off. "Dunno."

Richard gave him a doubtful look. "So, you have to be home more often. Take advantage of that and….talk to him when he gets back."

"But he's never home. And when he is, he's in his office. Or he's going to play golf or something. I mean, there's always something better for him to do, y'know? I'm like, the least of his worries." He looked off and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm done talking about it, Richard; it's just putting me in a bad mood."

Richard nodded. "Well. Pryce…you know if you need to talk to me, I'll listen."

He smiled softly, nodding. "Thanks, Richard." Unfortunately, he wasn't who Pryce wanted to listen.

I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter two is done, and so is chapter 3, but I'm going to wait and post them just based on how much attention this chapter gets.

R&R, feedback is very helpful and greatly appreciated :) Or, send me an email or ask on tumblr and let me know what you think! links are on my profile c: