The cool, end of September air felt refreshing as Fletcher ran. It was an hour after the end of school, and there was nobody around as he ran on the track behind the school. He was completely alone and could focus on just exercising.

For a moment he thought of Holly, wondering what she was doing. She didn’t have her driver’s license, so she couldn’t take his car home. Even though she told him to go ahead and use the track after school, he felt a little guilty.

Just focus. He told himself, narrowing his eyes and watching the track ahead of him. She’d be upset if she knew how bad I feel. She really should just--

He was cut off mid thought by something on the track. He hadn’t noticed a rock ahead of him until he hit it with his foot. He cried out in surprise as he tripped forward. Out of instinct, he stuck his arms out in front of him, catching himself and, with the momentum, propelling himself into the air. While in the air, he flipped upright, landing perfectly on his feet.

Fletcher’s heart was beating quickly from adrenaline. It was a bit of a surprise that he was unhurt, since he had never managed to complete any kind of movement in the air without hitting his head. Feeling self-conscious, he quickly looked around to make sure that nobody had seen him. Nobody was around and he sighed with relief.

He decided that he should call it a day and turned back to the school. He would change out of his athletic clothes and then call Holly to find out where she was. He had to get home anyway, since there was an art project that he hadn’t really thought about yet.

How am I supposed to sculpt something personal? He wondered as he changed into his jeans. A part of my personality? What part should I choose? He didn’t consider himself normal, so in theory he could do anything. Maybe a part of my past that’s made me who I am? He thought about that angle for a moment as he peeled off his shirt.

Then he turned to pick up his t-shirt and caught a glimpse of his chest. He paused for a moment. That might make something interesting. He thought for a second before shaking his head. There was no way he would ever share that with the students here.

Suddenly, he heard the change room door opening. Startled, he looked over his shoulder.

Lance was standing at the door, looking at him with a surprised expression. A baseball glove hung limply from his hand.

Fletcher panicked and hurried to get his shirt on. Then he shoved his athletic clothes into his bag and closed the locker he had been using. When he turned toward the door, he saw Lance opening a locker nearby while stripping off his shirt.

“Hey.” Lance said before Fletcher could hurry out. “What are you still doing here?” There wasn’t any malice in his voice, just curiosity.

“I was using the track.” Fletcher told him. Then, taking a deep breath, added, “You?”

“Baseball practice.” Lance looked over his shoulder at Fletcher. “Coach is sending me home early ‘cause I strained my shoulder.”

“Oh.” Fletcher breathed. “Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Lance turned back to his locker and pulled out his clothes. “I gotta get ice on it as soon as possible.”

“You want a ride?” Fletcher offered without thinking. Over the past month he had noticed that Lance took the bus or walked. He didn’t have a car of his own, and the walk home would probably be painful with a strained shoulder.

Lance looked at him with a surprised expression. “Really?” He smiled. “Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

Fletcher nodded. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot then.” He said before hurrying out.

* * *

When he called Holly, she said that she was already home, so it would just be Fletcher and Lance in the car. Fletcher was surprised when this thought made his heart jump. He hadn’t really thought about it, but Lance was pretty good looking. He felt his face heating up at the thought of being alone with him, and what might happen.

I’ll be driving! He mentally hit himself. That was a problem he had, an overactive imagination.

“Hey, thanks again.” Lance said as they got into the car. Fletcher just nodded and started the engine.

Immediately, the CD he had in the player started. “Wha!” Fletcher scrambled to turn it off. He ended up slapping at the dash in a very uncoordinated way. Finally, the music stopped.

“What was that?” Lance asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. He was looking at the CD controls.

“Nothing.” Fletcher said quickly. “Just a CD that Holly and I were listening to this morning.”

“Oh.” Lance nodded. He was still looking at the controls with a curious expression. “Who’s the group?”

“Devil’s Halo.” Fletcher mumbled.

“You’re kidding!” Lance started to laugh. “They’re awesome.”

Fletcher found himself smiling. “You think so?”

With that, the two of them were able to talk about music. It turned out that they had similar tastes, except for show tunes. Fletcher loved show tunes, but Lance made a pained face when he mentioned the fact.