dan hated it. he hated going to the bus stop every day, knowing phil wouldn't be there. he could live with the bullying, he could handle anything, but not without phil at his side. and that fact made him feel useless, and so pathetic.

that was the year that phil took the rainbow flag off his wall, and dan stopped wearing skirts.

he wore jeans instead, jeans with roses embroidered into the denim, lilac jeans with rips over the thighs, black jeans that he had cut at the knee with some scissors he had found in the kitchen cabinet behind the mugs. he made use of anything he could find, anything that would make him feel more at home; he tied ribbons in his hair that he found behind the school and in his mother's room, he dried flowers and made jewelry out of it, and stuffed his pockets with flower petals, hoping it would do instead of perfume.

he felt like he was only getting weirder, but as long as he didn't wear skirts, no one called him a girl. they still called him gay as if it was the worst thing you could be, and ugly, and everything else... but not a girl.

the first time dan came to school wearing jeans- they were his dad's and they were far too large; he had pinned them up- phil gave him a weird look from across the front lawn and dan looked away from him. why wasn't dan allowed to change and phil was? anyway, he hadn't even changed that much. phil had changed completely.

"move it, weirdo," someone said from behind him, shoving him against the lockers as he passed. dan flinched, his arms automatically going to shield his head; always protect the head, there's some advice. the guy stopped, frowning at him. dan seemed to attract these demons, people who fed off of fear.

"scared?" the boy leered at him. he had messed up teeth. dan didn't think he had seen him before. dan looked away, didn't answer, his arms still above his head.

the kid reached out, tugging on a ribbon tied loosely to one of his curls. dan flinched, closing his eyes. "did mommy do your hair this morning?"

"please g-go away," dan asked quietly, his lips barely moving when he spoke. the boy laughed.

"hey, dude, quit it."

dan opened an eye at the new voice, coming from somewhere to his right. his heart jumped foolishly, hoping it was phil. it wasn't. it was a boy with blond hair and a skinny face, tall and strong looking. he could probably crush dan with his pinkie, but he wasn't looking at him like he wanted to.

the boy put a hand on the mean one's shoulder, pulling him back. "leave him alone, yeah?" he had a thick accent that dan couldn't identify. the other boy scowled at him.

"whatever twit," he muttered, but stalked off. dan blinked, surprised.

the boy who had saved him smiled at him, his eyes flickering over his face as if he was sizing him up. dan's arms slowly fell from his head.

the boy leaned over, picking up the ribbon that had fallen from his hair and handing it to him. dan took it timidly.

"hey," he said. his voice was thick and low, lower than phil's. jesus, was he gonna go around comparing everyone to phil from now on? "i'm jackson..."

dan didn't shake his hand that he was holding out, clutching the ratty pink ribbon to his chest. jackson dropped his hand, shoving it in his pocket, but he didn't seem at all bothered.

"i'm sorry about him... that was my step brother." he rolled his eyes- blue eyes. just blue, not everything-eyes like phil's were. "he's a dick."

dan still didn't say anything, frozen. he couldn't look him in the face.

"hey, i'm sorry, can you not speak?" he was smiling. was he making fun of him? "that'd be kind of cool. are you a mute?"

dan hesitated before shaking his head.

"oh." he laughed. "are you just scared?"

dan nodded.

"i'm not scary." he flashed him a smile as if to prove it. dan looked away again. "i won't hurt you..."

dan shook his head and turned, ducking under his arm that he had been leaning against the lockers with, and ran down the hall.

dan ran all the way to the front doors, passing phil on the steps. his friends hooted at him and phil said nothing. dan caught a whiff of smoke. since when did phil smoke?

dan's feet hit the ground too hard. he felt like he was made out of paper, or as if he was a cloth doll; everything hit him too hard, washed over him all at once, and he was crying.

he let his feet take him to phil's door, through phil's house, his run slowing to a fast walk, his cheeks wet with tears.

"dan?" someone called out. probably elias. dan felt like he was losing his hearing.

he didn't answer, running up the steps to phil's room. he collapsed on his bed, sobbing into his duvet and tangling his fingers into it. it smelled like him still, like phil, not like whoever was in his place now. dan cried until he ran out of tears, his face pressed against his blankets.

no matter what happened, he wanted phil's bed to stay like this. stay like it was before.

before he left, dan stole a weaved wristband that was pinned to phil's wall. god, he was so weird.