"Help me."

"No."

"Micah, please." Beckett is tugging on my shirt sleeve, bottom lip jutted out and eyes wide. "I'm shit at math."

"You're shit at everything."

Beckett scowls because he knows it's true.

"Ask your girlfriend for help." I point to Misty across the cafeteria. She's talking to some of her friends in the lunch line. As if she heard me, she glances back, sends Beckett a smile followed by a quick wave, that he enthusiastically returns, and turns back to her friends.

"She's not even in our class. She has her own homework and we both gotta work on this!" Beckett seems to think that will convince me but he should know better.

"No."

"Micah!"

"Beckett."

I take a bite of my pizza, staring at him while chewing with my mouth open. I can see his eye twitching followed by his lips twisting into a grimace. He hates it when people chew with their mouths open. Eventually, he presses his hand to my chin, pushes it up and says, "I won't ask again but, please, stop doing that."

I salute him and do as I'm...requested? Told? Whatever.

While Beckett is grumbling to himself about terrible friends, I'm trying to decide on what lie to give mom so I can head off and practice some more. I haven't been able to get much in for about a week. There hasn't been any trouble on the walks home either so my evenings have been dead. It's actually leaving me a little jumpy.

"You know what, I get why you're so pissy lately," Beckett says out of the blue, poking me in the chest until I send him a glare that he squeaks at. After a moment of him realizing I am not going to kill him, he clears his throat so he may explain. "It's because you don't have a boyfriend."

"One, I haven't been pissy lately. I'm always pissy. Two, it has nothing to do with not having a boyfriend. It's just my personality." I start to chew with my mouth open again until Beckett gags.

"Whatever, whether it's the reason or not, get a boyfriend. You make me sad just looking at you!" Beckett exclaims, glancing about the cafeteria like he's trying to recruit a boyfriend for me. "Come on, there has to be someone here you fancy–"

"No one says fancy." I'm ignored. He'll regret that later.

"You haven't dated since Felix and, well, he was a piece of garbage."

I would argue but it's true so, instead, I nod and finish my meal. Beckett looks to me like he expects me to say more, maybe verbally agree or admit to "fancying" someone. When he gets none of that and, instead, is given a confused look, he scowls.

"Micah, has anyone ever told you that your emotional capacity is borderline nonexistent?"

"Yes but never phrased like that before. You used some big words in there. Does your head hurt? You need to go the nurse?"

Beckett slams his foot into mine beneath the table. I grunt, biting my bottom lip while giving him another glare that he actually ignores this time.

"I'm just worried that because Felix was a cheating bastard that you...that you won't try to date again."

"No need to worry about that. I'll date when I want." I shrug, not sure what else to say or if there is anything else.

I'm not still hung up on Felix. Yeah, it still hurts to think my first dating experience ended after discovering he has fucked every guy he could within a 10 mile radius. Then I panicked and got myself tested a million times out of pure fear but...it's not like that has put me off from dating. At some point I would like to date again, just not now.

I don't need "more time," I just know it isn't the "right time." There's no one I like and there's been no urge to find that someone. When it happens, it'll happen. I'm not gonna go out of my way to "find love" or whatever. I've got time anyways, it's no big deal. Beckett's just in a lovey-dovey mood because he finally got with Misty after fawning over her for a year.

When I voice those thoughts, he smacks me for it but we both know it's true.

Sadly, this conversation is not forgotten about. Shortly after our lunch ends, while Beckett and I are heading to class, we're stopped by a sudden fight in the halls. The two of us stand, not so much troubled as we are surprised, to find what appears to be an underclassman on the ground.

Rolland, one of the resident jackasses, is sneering at the poor kid with his goons right behind. Beckett is quick to tug on my shirt sleeve, requesting we take another path. Most kids are already doing that, moving around Rolland and his friends as to not get involved. If there weren't so many people, I'd give Rolland a good scare but, it's fine, there's another hero around.

"Why am I not surprised to find you in the center of this mess, Rolland?" Leo asks, walking into the clearing and holding out his hand for the underclassman. The moment the boy sees it, he smiles back and takes Leo's hand, cowering behind the guy that makes everyone, including Rolland, seem small.

"Always playing the hero, Halton."

"I'm surprised you don't call me Leo, should be easier to remember with your low brain capacity."

The audience snickers, Beckett included. He nudges me once or twice two, mouthing to me something about Leo that I don't really care about. This isn't an unusual occurrence. Like I said, Mr. Popular is one of those popular guys who deserves it. He definitely doesn't let Rolland or any other assholes in school get away with anything, especially if he's around.

I guess, Leo's pretty cool sometimes.

"Keep talking big. One of these days you won't have the teachers around to protect you and I'll teach you a lesson for always butting it," Rolland threatens, at least, he tries to.

Leo shrugs. "You know where I live, Rolland. You can pay me a visit anytime."

And just like that, Leo has shot Rolland down for the millionth time. All he does is scoff and storm off, bumping shoulders with me when he walks by. His goons follow, each one giving Leo a glare but, seeing as his soccer pals are coming down the hall, no one really does anything. It'd be an all out brawl, although, that could be fun to watch.

"Aw, no one died," Beckett says with a frown that I roll my eyes at. "Come on, let's get to class before the bell rings."

I'm about to agree except a familiar voice calls out to me, "Micah!"

Both Beckett and I turn to face Leo, who is making his way over to us. It seems the kid is gone, probably ran off the moment he knew he was safe. Now, Leo has his focus on us, or rather, me.

"I was hoping I'd find you!" Leo exclaims, earning himself a cocked brow from me. Beckett is grinning though and I know exactly what he's going to say once Leo is out of range.

"Why?" I ask, giving Leo a once over. He has an odd bounce in his step. What? Did he save some kittens on the way here? Maybe get nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize? I wouldn't be surprised.

"Here." Leo digs through his backpack, pulling out a paper that he hands to me. I take it from him and read it over, recognizing it immediately yet he still explains. "Those are our practice games that are coming up. If you can make it to one, let me know, ok?"

Wow, he really was serious. He actually wants me to go to one of his games. I mean, I guess that makes sense since he brought it up twice but he hasn't mentioned it since then. Still, I am confused as to why he wants me to tag along and I would ask but the bell rings.

Leo ruffles my hair, for some reason, says a goodbye with his signature charming smile and darts off to class, allowing Beckett to once again open his mouth.

"I shouldn't assume but, fuck, it seems like he might fancy you."

I punch Beckett square in the chest. He grunts, yelling after me when I choose to ignore his crazy statement and walk away. Unluckily for me, we share our next class so he catches up quick.

"Come on, Mr. Popular hoped to see you. He wants you to come to his games...hey, when did you two get so chummy anyways? Have a secret make out session and didn't tell me?" Beckett's eyes go wide. "Oh my god, did you two have hot drunk sex like in all the cheesy BL novels?"

"How do you know about those cheesy BL novels?"

"Some are pretty good."

"You're straight."

"Aren't we all just a little gay though?" Beckett holds up his hand to pinch his fingers together while he grins. "Cause, honestly, have you seen Ryan Reynolds?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "I wish you were dead."

"Yeah, same."

I would punch him again but we've made it to class. We get a quick scolding about our tardiness before we're sent to our seats. There, I do slap Beckett's hand causing him to bite back a yelp. During class he tries to text me then attempts to write a few notes, asking if I'm going to go to one of Leo's games. All of them are ignored until he finally tries to write the freaking question on my arm with a sharpie.

I flip him off and quickly text him a simple no.

Beckett does not seem pleased but, after a period or two of him trying to persuade me, he gives up. We both know that there is no force on earth or heaven than can change my mind...

Other than my mother.

"You're going."

"What?" I hiss, holding out my hand for the schedule that she stole out of my bag. She's a snoop! I can't believe she dug in my bag! Ok, so the schedule was kind of hanging out of the top for the world to see but, still, it was in my bag. She shouldn't have touched it!

"Leo wants you to go and I don't see why you shouldn't." Mom looks over the schedule, probably trying to determine which match I can attend.

"I shouldn't because I hate sports and I'll be bored out of my mind," I explain, trying to chase my mom around the table but to no avail. "Besides, why does he suddenly want to hang out? Normally we say hi at school or talk for a second outside but that's it."

"And it's sad that there's no more than that," mom argues, placing her hand on her hip in that lecturing fashion. I'm not in the mood for a lecture but here we go. "You're the same age. You go to the same school, live next door and he's so sweet. If he wants to hang out then–"

"It's probably out of pity."

"Micah!"

"What other reason is there?" I throw my hands in the air, swinging them around for a moment before dropping them to my side. "I'm not going, mom. It's no big deal."

"You don't know that. What if it is? You claim that it's strange he asked then isn't it strange to think it isn't a big deal because he asked?"

I hate when she tries to twist things on me, especially when thinking about it kind of makes sense. Seems she knows I'm realizing that too judging by her smile. She even wags her finger at me while holding out the schedule for me to take.

"One match, Micah, go and watch. I'm sure you'll have fun and, maybe, Leo won't ask for something else after."

"I can hope."

I'm whacked over the head for that too, which has me eying my mom like she's crazy. Why does she always hit me? I definitely didn't deserve that one! I say nothing of it though since I know she will happily smack me again. This is child abuse!

Since that conversation is obviously over, I head upstairs where I shut and lock my door. Why? I do not know. Mom will walk right in if she wants but it's not like I'm doing anything wrong. I'm just going to practice some more (since I haven't come up with an excuse to run around town, not that she would really say no but she'd suspect something), choosing to keep my back facing the door while I try to, once again, concentrate on a small object.

This time, it's a science book. I sit it on my desk, making sure none of my body is touching it or the desk for that matter. Mom is downstairs watching TV, I can hear it. The AC is on, it's rattling from the upstairs window. Cars are driving by on the street outside. Leo's cat is meowing outside their door then...

Nothing.

It's quiet. Every single thing is gone. There's nothing, nothing but the sound of my own breathing as I keep my gaze on the book that does nothing. It is sitting there, completely still until it flickers, much like mom told me I once did. Like a dying light, it disappears, reappears and repeats until, finally, it vanishes.

I try not to smile but it doesn't work, however, this time it remains hidden. The world is slowly returning to my senses, the noise of the TV, the AC, the cars, Leo's cat and the book remains unseen. I hold it like that, watching the time tick away and wondering how it can go by so fast without me even realizing it.

But my head is starting to pound. My eyes are tiring, like I've been staring for hours without blinking although I obviously have been doing no such thing. Then, with a heavy sigh, the book reappears and there's this sharp pain in the back of my neck. I feel like I need to crack it but, no matter how hard I try, it won't.

Regardless of my headache, regardless of the pain in my neck, I'm left feeling exhilarated.

I did it. I wasn't even touching the book and it disappeared for, I look to my clock, an hour and fifteen minutes. It's a record. The longest I've vanished myself for is 17 hours and, if I could, I would try for longer but that weekend was tough enough. I told mom I was hanging out at Beckett's when, in reality, I was roaming the streets completely unseen. I wonder if I could have lasted longer if I had slept more the day before? After 17 hours, I just felt like I needed a nap.

Still, keeping an object I wasn't even touching completely invisible for over an hour, it's a first. I guess it's true, practice really does make perfect.