I drove down to Ezra’s house and parked in the driveway. I got out of the car and went up to the front door, hesitating as my finger moved towards the doorbell.

                I pressed my ear up against the door, and could hear screaming coming from inside. My heart sank and I hastily rang the doorbell, wanting to end the screaming for Ezra, even if it was only temporarily.

                Mrs. Carelli pulled the door open, and her once friendly eyes now looked at me with a hint of distaste. She didn’t like the idea of her son dating another boy, and I was that boy.

                “Hi Mrs. Carelli,” I said. “Is Ezra home? Wow, what a stupid question, I’m the one who dropped him off here. Can I go up and talk to Ezra?”

                “Ezra’s a little busy,” she lied.

                “Please? It’s really important,” I said, trying to look innocent, my mind working fast. I needed a lie. “It has to do with Lucas.”

                “His best friend?” she asked, looking surprised.

                I nodded. “Yea, that Lucas,” I said.

                She hesitated before stepping aside. “Alright, he’s upstairs,” she said.

                I could remember Ezra saying his mom liked wine, and knew it was true. I could smell it on her breath.

                Ezra dad came out and gave me the same look as his wife had. Mrs. Carelli forced a smile as she moved over to him.

                “Rio’s here to see Ezra! Something about Lucas,” she said happily.

                Mr. Carelli nodded. “Alright.”

                She put an arm around his waist, trying to play the happy couple. I hurried up the stairs and let myself into Ezra’s bedroom.

                Ezra was sitting in the middle of his floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, rocking himself back and forth. His eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were pressed against his ears.

                “Stop fighting, stop fighting, stop fighting.” He kept whispering it, over and over.

                I knelt next to him, placing a hand on his back. He jumped and looked up at me in terror. But then his expression cleared and he smiled.

                “Rio! Couldn’t stay away, huh?” He tilted his head and kissed me.

                “I’m busting you out,” I said, helping him up.

                “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but my mom won’t let me leave again. She says I’ve been out for too long and need to spend some time home.”

                “I’m not waiting until tonight,” I said, knowing that he would sneak out to the wall at night.

                “Well how do you plan to break me out of here?” he asked, looking amused.

                “I can get you out for at least a little. Tell your mom we have to go visit Lucas,” I said. “I told her that’s why I was here.”

                He shrugged. “Okay!”

                We went downstairs and into the kitchen, where his parents were. His mom forced a smile despite the fact that Ezra was holding my hand.

                “Mom, I have to go to Lucas’s house,” Ezra lied easily.

                His mom looked disbelieving. “Why?”

                “Because his girlfriend cheated on him and he’s really upset. My phone’s dead and he couldn’t get a hold of me, so he called Rio and asked him to tell me to come over,” Ezra said, the lie coming instantly. “Rio obviously couldn’t reach me on the phone either, so he came here to tell me in person. I guess Lucas was too lazy to do that.” He rolled his eyes and laughed.

                “Fine. But only for an hour. I want you back in here in one hour Ezra,” she said sternly.

                “Deal,” he said and pulled me out of the kitchen, his dad watching us silently. We went outside and got into my car, and I drove away from the place he called home.

                “You’re the best!” Ezra cheered, kissing my cheek.

                “I know,” I said smugly. “Where do you want to go?”

                “The park?” he offered.

                I nodded and drove us to the park. We got out of the car after checking for any sign of Austin.  

                Ezra led me over to the swings and I sat down. He sat on my lap, his legs straddling my waist, and kissed me.

                “Thank you,” he mumbled against my lips, putting his arms around my neck.

                I placed my hands on his hips and kissed him, closing my eyes, letting myself focus on his soft lips. He slid his tongue across my lower lip and I opened my mouth, granting his tongue entrance, rubbing my own up against it.

                His hands slid down my chest and up my shirt. I shuddered at his cool touch, his fingers lightly tracing up and down my back.

                I gripped his hips tighter as our mouths worked together. I pulled him closer to myself, wanting to hold him, wanting to make him feel better because I knew he was miserable despite his smile.

                But I forgot that we were on a swing, and ended up pulling him too close. The two of us fell backwards and I grunted as I landed on my back, the wind knocked out of me. Ezra landed on top of me, and I groaned as he accidentally rubbed up against me.

                “Ezra,” I said, glaring at him. “We are not doing that in a damn park. Save it for the bedroom. Or at least a place where small children aren’t commonly found.”

                “You’re the one who pulled me down!” he said, laughing. “Are you okay?”

                “Oh yea, I’m just freaking dandy,” I grumbled.

                He bent down, kissing me. He stood up and helped me up, brushing dirt off of my clothes for me.

                “Sorry,” he said with a smile.

                “It was my fault,” I said with a sigh. “I mean, unless you want to take the blame. Then it can totally be your fault.”

                “I can totally be my fault,” he said, laughing. He reached out, fixing my glasses for me since they were crooked.

                “I think you’re the only person who doesn’t steal my glasses to watch me blindly stumble around,” I said as his hand dropped back to his side.

                “You can entertain me in other ways,” he said, kissing me again. “I don’t need to steal your glasses for a good time.”

                “Dirty boy,” I said.

                “No, this is dirty.” He hooked his thumbs in my jeans and pulled me against himself, kissing my neck, finding my soft spot. He nibbled and sucked at it, earning a light moan from me as he began to suck it harder. He stopped after a minute and lightly kissed it.

                “Dammit Ezra,” I said with a sigh as he released me.

                “Don’t let your brother see,” he said with a wink.

                I groaned. “I forgot about my brother!”

                He smiled innocently. “Oops. Did I do that?”

                “You’re evil,” I said with a pout. I was tempted to do the same to him, but remembered that he had to spend a night home, and I didn’t want him to get more disgusted looks from his parents.

                “I have a little less than an hour to spend with you. Let’s make it a good hour,” he said with a smile.

                I took his hand in mine and the two of us proceeded to act like small children, swinging, running up the slides, climbing on the monkey bars and hanging upside down. We laughed and shared kisses and let ourselves forget our problems for an hour.

                But then Ezra checked the time and frowned. “I have to head home, Rio. We’re going to be a little late,” he said, jumping off of the mini rock wall we were currently climbing on.

                I jumped down next to him and we went back to the car. Ezra smiled at me as I started driving towards his house.

                “Thanks for that. It’s nice to get out,” he said.

                “Wall?” I said.

                He nodded. “Wall.” He smiled again and kissed my cheek. “Maybe the roof. It depends on how cat like I’m feeling.”

                “I’m into bestiality apparently,” I said with a sigh.

                “You don’t really have a sexuality, so it’s possible that you’re into that,” he said, laughing.

                I pulled into his driveway, and his smiling face gave nothing away. It didn’t give away his dread and hatred of his home. It didn’t give away his fear of the yelling and fighting.

                He leaned over, kissing me. “Thanks, Rio. I’ll see you tonight.”

                He got out of the car and slowly made his way into the house. I pulled out of the driveway and made my way home.

                I checked the mark on my neck and sighed, pulling my shirt up awkwardly to hide it. I got out of the car and went inside, hurrying through the living room where my parents and brother all were.

                “Rio!”

                Hank got up and came over to me. I mentally groaned as he pulled me into his bedroom and shut the door.

                He pushed me up against the wall and pulled my shirt down, eyeing the mark on my neck. He glared at me.

                “Do you think I’m stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t see that?” he demanded.

                “See what? I think you’re hallucinating,” I said.

                He barked a laugh. “Please. You’ve seen them on me before.”

                From people he didn’t know. People who would bite and suck his neck, and have sex with him while he just laid there in his drug induced state, not caring that his body was being used, because at least he was going to get more heroin, at least he got another fix. Why should it matter that a girl was holding him to a bed, sucking his neck, and moving herself up and down on him, degrading him? As long as he got a fix, he didn’t care.

                “Well, next time I’ll tell Ezra to be gentler,” I said, trying to back out of the room.

                He gripped my arm. “Did you have sex with him?”

                “No,” I said. “I was at a park with him. Traumatizing small children isn’t my favorite hobby.”

                He released my arm. “If you have sex with him, I’m going to beat the shit out of both of you,” he snarled. “I mean it, Rio. Don’t do that shit.”

                “He said I look yummy and he wants a taste, but I’m a human not a sandwich,” I said.

                He glared. “You’re not funny.”

                “That doesn’t make you laugh your fucking ass off?” I said innocently, and then laughed. “I’m so funny. I kill myself.” I shook my head, grinning up at my brother.

                Hank suddenly gripped his head. “Leave me alone. I have a headache.”

                “Do you want your medicine?” I asked.

                “You know what I want. You know what I need.” He shot me a pleading look. “Rio, please, help. You’re my little brother. Please.”

                I frowned and led him over to his bed. He gripped his head, rocking himself back and forth as I rubbed his back.

                “Dad! Hank needs his headache medicine!” I called. I yelped as Hank hit me in the chest.

                “Why do you always take their side?” he said furiously.

                “Hank, I don’t know where dad put your medicine,” I said, rubbing my chest.

                “They turned you against me. Now Ezra is taking you.” He curled up on his bed, still rocking himself, trembling.

                Dad came in with Hank’s medicine and frowned. He came over and helped Hank sit up.

                “I’ll be in my room,” I said, fixing my shirt so dad wouldn’t see the mark. I hurried out of Hank’s room and went into my own, shutting the door.

                I fell back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I wanted to see Ezra already, but it was way too early for that.

                I grabbed a book and rolled over, reading until mom called me out for dinner. I went out to the dining room and sat down. Hank was staring at his plate with a blank expression.

                Mom and dad sat down with us and we talked as we ate. Hank remained silent, picking at his food.

                I finished eating and went back to my bedroom to wait for night. I wanted to see Ezra already. But he probably had to wait until he parents went to bed before he could sneak out.

                But waiting for it to get late was miserable. I tried texting Mitch, but he didn’t even respond, which was frustrating but not surprising. I finished the book I was reading, and tried switching to video games. But I grew bored of that quickly, and ended up watching pointless youtube videos until it was late.

                Deciding that it was about time for me to head out, I locked my door and pushed my window open. I crawled out and walked for a little until I had reached the wall.

                Ezra watched me, crouched in his usual spot. I climbed up to him and sat down next to him.

                “What’s wrong?” I asked, noticing his expression.

                He gave me a smile, but his eyes were blazing. “My dad had a meeting. He promised to help me fix my desk tonight, so I waited around for him. But he didn’t show up until it was almost midnight. While we were waiting for him, we ate dinner, and Rachel asked where he was. My mom said she hoped he was in the hospital or dead, because that was the only excuse for being so late.” His smile dropped, and anger lit his face. “My mom actually wanted him to be hurt or dead. My own damn mom said that about my dad. And my own damn dad broke another promise to me.”

                He clenched his fists tightly. “My dad broke another promise to me. He always does that. I’m so sick of it. And I’m so sick of them fighting and yelling and saying horrible things. I’m sick of them looking at me like I’m an abomination. I’m sick of it all!”

                He was starting to yell, and I realized that this was his spark. His parents were the spark, and he had finally caught fire, and now he was burning with anger and rage and betrayal.

                “Ezra, let it out,” I said gently. “For just one night, drop the happy act, and let it out.”

                “I’m fucking sick of it!” he exploded. “I want them to either stop fighting or just divorce already! I hate them! I hate that they try so hard to put on a happy act! My mom refuses to tell people about me and you because she thinks I’m a sinner and going to hell for dating a boy! Sometimes I think my dad doesn’t even care about me. He’s not there, and when he is, he’s just criticizing everything about me, from my grades to the way I dress. And my sister is such a bitch. I can’t stand her. I hate them all so much.”

                He was shaking, almost as bad as Hank did. I put an arm around him and he gripped my shirt, looking angry and desperate.

                “I used to get high just to forget about them! My mom knew I was doing drugs, but she pretended I didn’t, because she thinks if she ignores a problem it’ll go away. She ignores me anytime I try to bring up my relationship with you. She ignored me when I was turning into a pothead. Do you know that my birthday is soon? My dad won’t be here. He has a business trip, and he won’t cancel it. That’ll be the third time he’s not here on my birthday, and he never calls me when he’s away. My mom just sits around drinking wine and bitching about everything, and my dad is spending more and more time away from home.” He gripped my shirt tighter, tears pooling in his eyes.

                I hugged him to myself, and he broke down, sobbing against my shirt. I kissed his temple, stroking his hair, just letting him know he wasn’t alone.

                “I’m sorry,” he whimpered after a few minutes of sobbing.

                “You burned down. Now you need to rise,” I said quietly.

                He wiped at his eyes and gave me a shaky smile. “I will. I’ll rise as someone better. I’ll be better than my parents. I’ll be better than my sister. I’ll be so much better.”

                “I know you will.” I smiled and kissed him. “I love you, Ezra.”

                “Thank you for being here,” he mumbled, resting his head on my shoulder. “I love you so damn much Rio.”

                I held him to myself, stroking his hair as he tried to get himself under control. His burning hadn’t been that bad. He had exploded and let his problems out, and surely he felt miserable right now. But he was going to feel so much better now that he had let it all out.

                But I was thinking about my own outburst now. Something would spark and catch a fire inside of me, and how would I react to it? Would I yell out all my problems and cry? Or would my reaction be worse?

                I looked down and realized that Ezra was crying again, looking like he was in pure agony and misery. I hugged him, rocking lightly with him.

                “You’ll be okay Ezra,” I promised, meaning it. I would do anything to make him okay.

                “I hate them,” he choked out, tears leaking from his eyes. “I hate the fighting and the yelling and the pretend family. I never come home from college because I hate it all so much.”

                I kissed him and let him cry on me. His body shook against me with the force of holding himself together, even just a little.

                He closed his eyes, crying himself to sleep against me. I held him, making sure he didn’t fall off of the wall, not wanting to wake him up. He needed to sleep now. He needed to sleep some of this off and get even the weakest grip on his sanity.

                “I won’t let the wind scatter the ashes,” I said quietly, kissing his forehead.

                I would not let anything blow Ezra away until he had built himself up again. I was confident that Ezra would be able to rise again, and that he would be better. He was a strong person, and he would be better than the rest of his family.

                He wouldn’t change for the worst when he recovered from this. He was determined to be better, and he would be.

                I would help him any way I possibly could. I would do anything for Ezra.

                “You’re going to be okay,” I mumbled, holding him a little tighter, careful not to wake him up as he slept against me, his head on my shoulder.

                Tears dried on his face, and even in his sleep he looked miserable. Was this how it was to burn down? Was it pure agony? How long did it take to recover? Fires didn’t usually last long, but their effects could last for ages. Sometimes they were repaired quickly, and sometimes they had to grow back nice and slow.

                How long would it take Ezra to recover? Outside he had his happy façade, but inside, he was just ashes and charred pieces of a shattered heart.

                “I’ll help you,” I promised him quietly, kissing his forehead. “I promise I’ll help you.”

                So we sat there in the silence of the dark night. Ezra slept curled up against me, and I held him, my stomach a knot of anxiety because I knew it wouldn’t be long before my only spark finally came and burned me down to nothing.