It reached snapping point after another week of hedging. I was never certain whether I should say anything, but my nerves were shot and I was feeling the pressure. Losing sleep and concentration were bad enough, but it had begun to affect my ability to function at school and at home. I needed to tell someone. That person had to be my best friend.

Lucy.

To get her to come to my place without any pretensions was hard enough. She knew something was up, but tolerated it only as long as it took to open the front door of the house.

"Torsten, what the fuck is going on?" Hands on hips, it was the image I was expecting. "Are you gonna tell me what this is about, or do I have to wait for the DVD special edition?"

"Follow me." I led her through the house and out the rear door into the yard, trying very hard not to feel like I was making a mistake. "You'll see soon enough."

"Will I?" She followed after me, grousing all the way. "This better not be some stupid prank. If you're trying to copy what Jonathan did with those goats-"

"Lucy." I gripped the handle of the shed door. "Fucking seriously. Listen to me. I want you to watch and just SEE, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever." She shrugged and acquiesced, not liking that I was calling the shots. "Get on with it."

"Okay," I told her, "but you have to ... not freak out. This is important."

"Torsten." She complained, noncommittal. "Just show me your stupid thing. I don't care what it is. Get it done."

If that's what you want.

I didn't even pause. Opening the door, I pushed her in and stepped through after, closing it swiftly and firmly behind us.

The dragon stared at her from where it lay, curled up comfortably in its swaddle of blankets on the floor.

Lucy stared right back.

It roused itself, slow and deliberate, then sauntered closer on all fours. She was watching it all the while, and without making a fuss, she offered it her hand. It was large enough standing that it could basically look her in the eye with very little effort, and it sniffed the extended limb; curious, but only in passing. Then the head angled to me, an expectant look; a query of 'what do you want me to do with this' quite obvious.

"She's a friend," I told it. "Don't try to eat her. Please."

"Torsten." Lucy's voice was punchy and amazed, but not upset nor shocked senseless. "You have a dragon in your shed."

"Lucy, I w-"

"Torsten," she began again, heavier than the previous time, a little pissed off at having to repeat herself, "you have a dragon in your shed."

"I told you not to freak out."

"I'm not." She spat it. "I should be, but I'm fucking not. Jesus, do you realise what this is?"

"Do you think I don't?" I folded my arms. "Do you have any idea what it's been like trying to hide it? The last month, whatever it's been-"

"Wait." She stopped me. "Month? This was it, right? From that same day that Theo showed up. The same day you started acting weird. Am I wrong?"

"No." There was nothing I could say that wasn't truthful. "You're right. It was ... what happened, on that day. This happened. That was when I found the, uh, egg, I guess it was. I went for a walk up behind the town, and it was in a limestone cave, and then it ... hatched. I didn't even do anything myself. It just happened."

The dragon had become disinterested with the lack of anything more substantial happening, and it was returning to its nest and settling again on the blankets. Even lying, the area it took up was now considerable, dominating a good portion of the shed's space.

"Well, okay. So, this is definitely real."

"Yeah, it is."

"I'm sorry." Her arms wrapped around my torso, the hug sudden and unexpected. "Really, I'm sorry. Dunno what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. I mean ... fuck. I get the sleeplessness now, and your weird behaviour. I just didn't expect this to be why."

"Don't blame you." My response felt weak. What else can I say? "I didn't expect it either. Who would?"

She unwrapped herself from me, and walked closer to where it had curled up again on the floor. Bold or stupid, I wasn't sure which, but she sat down in front of it cross-legged. The closest eye opened, focused on her for a moment, then shut again, content to ignore her.

"One thing is for certain."

"What?" I took a seat on the floor next to her.

"Eragon, you are not." She gestured to the creature, pointing to highlight specific parts; the horns, the spurs on its face, the thickening scales along its flanks and back, the spikes on its spine and wing joints, and the claws. "Look at this thing. I mean ... look at it. How big was it when it hatched? A dog?"

"Smaller." I told her. "Cat size. Not even a large cat either."

"Okay, and about a month later, it's large enough to be hunting elephants for sport. You can't see something like this and think it's not designed solely for murdering whatever gets in its way. I don't think this is going to be all psychic bonds, dragon riders and magic swords. This creature isn't a Saphira, either. All I can think when I look at it is ... it's a killer. You won't be able to control it."

"I don't want to control it. I just want to know ... why."

"Yeah," she said, "me too. Though I think this one is a boy anyhow."

"Really? Why?"

"Don't know." She shrugged. "I just do. It seems like one to me. Seems like you're low on room in here too. You'll need every square foot if junior is going to have room to grow."

I glanced at the walls, and what clutter was left on the floor. "Yeah, I stashed as much of it in the attic as I could without mom getting suspicious, but I have nowhere else to put what's left."

"Hmm," she mused, an idea forming. "There's space in dad's workshop. He won't mind if I cram some of it in there. We can take it over now, even."

"That's actually a great idea."

So that's what we did.

It took two trips to carry the remaining items between us. Lucy told me she would make up a story about why it was necessary, so no parental issues were had on her side. She was one of the few people who could get away with tricking her father, from whom she'd inherited her sense of stubbornness and bullshit-detection. It was her claim that she learned from the master, and also a point of pride that she was able to apply that same skill back to him in reverse.

Like father, like daughter.

While we were walking, I told her about my encounter with the sinister courier guy and Mrs Sterling, while she told me about how the new school counsellor had tried some kind of 'Jedi mind trick antics' on her. It was twenty minutes later and we were sitting on the front steps resting, soda bottles in hand, and both of us had agreed: all of the strange things we experienced had to be connected.

Then, there was Theo.

"You came clean about what's happening. As much as it pains me to say this: I have to let you off the hook with him." She was idly picking at the plastic wrapper on the bottle, pulling at the seams while we talked. "You don't have to continue to befriend Theo any more."

"I know." Feeling too embarrassed to keep any kind of eye contact, I studied intently the bumps along the side of the bottle's cap. "I- ... uh, I want to, though."

"Did I hear that correctly?"

"Please don't make a big deal out of this." I shook my head. "He's a nice guy. He's fun. I know what you're wanting, and I just ... don't know. Why does it have to mean something that I like being around him? I don't want any pressure."

"Uggggghhhhh." She gave a long overly-dramatic sigh, and flopped forward, defeated. "I knew you were gonna be like this. Okay! Fine. I give up. No pressuring. Just ... if you do feel something for him, you can tell me. You should tell him. Don't pass something up just 'cause you might have a couple of doubts."

"Lucy, in the very unlikely event I develop super-gay feelings for any boy at all, you have my word I'll tell you first and give you a front row ticket. Satisfied?"

"Yes." She sat up, revitalised, the surrender already forgotten with such a pronouncement. My word meant plenty to her, and I would be held to it. "That was all I needed to hear."

Yeah, of course it was.

Still, when it came to Theo, it seemed like the situation was about to change all on its own.

It didn't take long for that to occur.

Two days later, Jonathan and I were playing kicks on the far field after school. Lucy had left early, picked up by her mom to go with her little sister to some competition event out of town. As he sometimes did, Theo showed up out of nowhere shortly after the bell and joined us. We played rotating attack-defence-goalie with the smaller 5-a-side goal until nearly an hour later. Jonathan had run out of energy and decided he wanted to go home, so he went to collect his bag and head out.

We sat on the low wooden retaining wall at the rear end of the sports fields, next to the school's boundary and road. It was a hot afternoon and I was dehydrated and sticky, so I wiped myself down and fished out a bottled water from my school bag. Taking a swig, I offered Theo some, but he declined. I knew I had decent stamina and could last the distance, and although I had seen him get out of breath, he never seemed to get sweaty and messy like the rest of us.

"I don't know how you do it," I told him. "You've been running around a field for an hour in the sun and you look like you've only just arrived."

Theo laughed, the sound itself and his accompanying smile filled with such happiness, a joyful freedom. "It's an act." He wiped a finger along his brow then held it ceremoniously out for inspection, right in front of my face. "Look, I sweat too. See?"

"Ugh!" I protested. "Take it away!" I forced his hand back, and he started laughing again, teasing and pushing it forward, fingers bent into mock claws like he was trying to attack me.

"Come on, Torsten. Let me show you!"

"Stop!" I giggled, trying to hold off the assault.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop."

His laughter was dying away and so was mine. Then, before I could let go, his arm slipped down a little and the fingers threaded through mine and then clasped.

Just like that, we were holding hands.

That moment, it felt like my mind and voice had been swallowed up by the ground, never to return. The heat and fatigue were forgotten, casualties of circumstance, and he spoke, but I couldn't look him in the eye. I was fixated on where we were touching, laced together.

Hand in hand.

"This isn't an act, though."

I didn't reply.

"I- ... I swear it. I don't know what I'm doing any more, but ... it's not acting."

Again, I didn't speak.

"Torsten." His voice broke a little, and I could hear the strain in it, the fear. "Please, say something to me."

Finally, I looked up.

His eyes were wide, his face was white and he was terrified.

"Who ARE you?" I found my voice and it was raspy and shakey as I felt. "Why are you in my life?"

"I'm ... not who I'm supposed to be."

Supposed to be?

He shook his head, swallowing nervously, an image so incompatible with what I knew of him. "It wasn't meant to be like this. I never thought I'd ... feel something."

"I, um- ... I didn't either." His eyes went wider and his jaw dropped a little in realisation, and I knew he wanted to reply immediately, but I had much more to say. "Yes, I like you. I don't know why, and- ... and ... I don't understand exactly what I feel, but that's all it can be right now. That's all. It can't be more until we- ... until you stop hiding, because," my pitch dropped, much quieter, dry and hoarse, "you know something. You're different and you know something, but you need to be honest. If you won't do that, you should let me go and forget whatever this means." My eyes flicked down to our hands for just a split second, then back to his face. "If I can't trust you, then we won't even be friends, and neither of us will ever understand."

That's the price.

"Believe me, I want to be honest with you, I- ... I want to tell you more, but ... I'm scared." He squeezed my hand, his own vibrating from the emotion. "I'm not meant to be scared, but there's so much that I could ruin and it frightens me." He squeezed again, taking a deep breath. "I need to figure this out. Could you give me a little time? Please?" The look he gave was almost begging. "Please?"

"Oo-kaay."

My stammered reply was barely articulate, exactly how I felt, and Theo was moving forward. In a heartbeat, he let go, and then was leaning in and his arms were around me. I wanted to return it and hug him back. I wanted to show him that I meant what I said. I wanted to admit, out loud, that maybe I really could be attracted to another boy, even if it was only in the smallest way, and just maybe ... that boy could be him.

Maybe.

I really wanted to, but ... I couldn't.

Instead, I pulled away without looking at him, grabbed my bag and stood, robotic, brain overloaded by what was happening, voice just as mechanical and unresponsive.

"See you later."

Then I turned and walked away, heading for home.