It was a beautiful Sunday morning. The birds were chirping happily in the large trees throughout the park, the church bells were ringing, and all seemed right in Portswain.

Jack sat on a park bench between Tara and Candace just off the edge of a small lake. Despite feeling even more like an unwilling gremlin dragged into the sunlight, it was one of the few times he felt secure. The only thing missing was Sam. He liked it better when murderers just kept to themselves and didn't do anything weird. It meant more time with his makeshift family.

He had already scarfed down his bagel and coffee and no longer had anything to distract him from his thoughts. If he pulled out his phone, he would be too tempted to call up Sam and beg for reassurance that he made the right decision the night before. That his caution was justified.

"Jack? You seem down," said Candace, giving him a light nudge with her shoulder. "More than usual. Are you okay?"

Jack nodded and flicked a bread crumb at one of the squirrels that were gathering at Candace's feet, hitting it squarely on the nose. "Just annoyed."

"So who pissed you off?" Tara asked, munching on her muffin.

"Myself." Jack crossed his arms and slouched. He frowned as a brown hand holding a raisin came into his line of vision. He took the raisin and contemplated eating it or chucking it at a squirrel. "I kinda met this guy last night and—"

"Is he cute?" Candace asked.

Her question was too eager and bright, and it only reminded him of how he could have what he wanted. "I guess, but that's not—"

"What's his name?"

"I don't—"

"Did you get his number?"

"No! I left before—"

Tara slapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, I'd hate me, too, if I ran out on some hot guy," she said with a teasing grin. "Here, call me next time, and I'll be your emotional support wingman."

"That wasn't the problem," he insisted. "It was the way he was looking at me like I was a slab of meat for sale."

Candace laughed and shook her head. "If I weren't married, I'd look at you like a slab of meat. Although, I think a better wardrobe would help."

"Thanks. I think," he said uncertainly. He couldn't tell if Candace was being sincere or not. She was tall with perfectly curled, long blonde hair and matching blue eyes. Next to her, he looked like a little rain cloud trying and failing to block out her persistent sunshine. He really should make an effort with at least his clothing, but that would only attract attention.

"It's alright to be shy, Jack," Candace said and patted Jack's arm reassuringly.

"I'm not shy," he protested. He glared at the squirrels. "I just gotta warm up to people." He thought he was doing well. He had other friends. Or at least baristas who knew him by name and sometimes comped him a drink. That counted for something, right? He had met Missy's little brother and helped the kid build a computer, so it definitely counted as friendship. That, or he was useful enough to justify being nice to. How many other people kept him around just because he was useful?

Only good for one thing and maybe a couple other perks. He zoned back into the conversation when Tara bumped her shoulder against his.

"Then it's alright to be frigid," Tara said and smiled brightly at the dirty glare she got in return.

"We can go shopping," Candace offered. "New clothes always make me feel better. It might boost your confidence if you wore something that didn't bury you."

Jack rolled his eyes and stood, scaring off a few of the squirrels. Half his clothes came from Candace and her attempts to clean him up. He didn't need to add to the collection. "I just remembered I left my oven on," he said and stalked off in the general direction of his home. "Think I'll stick my head in it."

"It helps if you actually own one," Tara called out as Candace smacked her arm.

Jack followed the main path through the park. Sunlight sparkled through the dense foliage, illuminating the winding pathway with bright dapples. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie and glared at the ground as he walked. Why couldn't he just meet someone in controlled circumstances?

But the café was controlled. Well-lit. Well-populated. Just coffee. And the goth kids would probably have the awkward kinda-gay guy's back if it came down to it. The perfect location for a first date with no commitment. But so were many other places. It didn't take much to drug someone. Better safe than sorry. Better to be alone.

His steps stuttered as his thoughts jumbled into each other, his train of thought being lost along the way. He was pretty sure he was running from something, but all he could think of was the pair of friends he left with a handful of squirrels. He looked over his shoulder and sighed at the empty path. He needed to get home and get his head screwed on relatively straight. He clenched his eyes shut and walked a little faster.

And right into a firm body.