I rang the doorbell and Brady let me inside. I took my shoes off and he led me down to the basement. Their basement was basically a creepy workshop. Brady liked to make simple things out of wood, like clocks, desks, and chairs.

                “Just take a seat there,” he said, nodding at one of the chairs he’d made.

                I sat down in it and Brady sat across from me. We stared at each other for a minute, both waiting for the other to speak. Finally, I broke the silence.

                “Do you have any idea what’s wrong with Tommy?” I asked.

                Brady shook his head and sighed. “Tommy’s my son, and I love him. Of course I do. But I knew from the time he was little that he would be like this. If he can’t control his emotions, he wants someone else to. When he’s upset, he’ll listen to anyone,” he said.

                He ran a hand through his hair. “Broke his thumb down here. When he was six years old, he was upset because Sammy and Mikey were picking on him terribly. Almost made him cry. So he came downstairs and I told him to let his anger out by hammering a few nails into a board of wood. But I specifically told him to do it slowly and carefully. Tommy had used a hammer before, but not when he was angry. Smashed his thumb flat. Screamed like a banshee.”

                Brady met my questioning eyes. “I know what you’re thinking. Why would I let my angry six year old play with a hammer?” I nodded. That was exactly what I was thinking.

                “Call it a cruel lesson, Zeke. I didn’t mean for him to break his thumb. I hadn’t realized he was that upset. I just figured he’d bruise it a little or something. Tommy doesn’t know how to let his feelings out in a healthy way,” he explained, shrugging to show he knew he sounded mean.

                “He lets out his feelings during soccer,” I protested.

                Brady shook his head. “That’s not healthy. Not the way he does it, at least. Tommy tries to hurt the other team. He plays rough and dirty. And he’s not good about talking about things that upset him. Right now, he’s up in his room sulking and throwing things around, because he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s always been childish like that, and he probably always will be.”

                “But how does that help me now?” I asked miserably.

                I thought that Brady would know what to do about Tommy. Brady seemed to be the only person that knew how to handle Tommy when he got like this.

                “It doesn’t,” Brady said with another shrug. “There is no way to calm Tommy down, except to let him get his anger out. He usually wrestles with Sammy and Mikey and feels better. But with his bad ankle, he’s basically trapped with his feelings.”

                “What if I wrestle him carefully?” I asked slowly, trying to think this out.

                Brady stood up and pulled out a board of wood and a ruler. “Do what you need to do Zeke. Just don’t hurt him,” he said, measuring the wood. “Maybe if you make him angry enough, he’ll blurt out his problem. I’ve never seen him this furious before.”

                I got up and made my way upstairs. I stared at Tommy’s bedroom door and chewed on my lip nervously. Should I just leave him alone?

                “Get out means get out!”

                The furious voice erupted from Tommy’s room. His door was flung open and Sammy stumbled out, looking shocked. His shock changed to fury.

                “Well fine you stupid homo! I was just trying to see what was wrong with you!” he snapped.

                “Nothing’s wrong with me Sammy!” Tommy snapped right back.

                “Whatever you fucking faggot,” Sammy growled.

                Tommy swung at him and Sammy jumped back. “I should break your ankle,” Sammy snarled as Tommy advanced at him.

                “Do it!” Tommy challenged.

                “Tommy,” I said, staring at him in shock. He looked like a wild animal. Frightened, furious, and ready for a fight.

                “Zeke, what point of leave me alone do you not understand?” he demanded, turning his fury on me now.

                “Tommy, stop. Please. This isn’t you. This isn’t you at all,” I said weakly. What the hell had Davey done to make Tommy like this?

                “Fuck you Zeke,” he growled, hate masking the pain in his eyes. No, not hate. Betrayal.

                “What did I do?” I asked him, truly confused. “What did I do that has you hating me like this Tommy?”

                “I just don’t like talking to fucking cheaters!” he cried, storming into his room and slamming the door, locking it.

                “You’re the reason that he’s like that?” Sammy asked, glaring at me.

                I stared at Tommy’s door in shock. “I…I really have no idea what he’s talking about,” I whispered in shocked honesty. Why did Tommy think I was cheating? What the hell had Davey told him?

                “You didn’t cheat on him?” Sammy asked suspiciously.

                I shook my head violently, my eyes widening. “Of course I didn’t cheat on him!” I cried. “I love Tommy! Why would I fuck it up like that?!”

                I ran a hand through my hair before moving downstairs, ignoring Sammy as he called my name. I went down to the basement, finding Brady still taking wood measurements.

                “How do I pick the lock on Tommy’s door?” I asked.

                Brady dug around his pocket and handed me a bobby pin. “Very carefully, so he doesn’t notice,” he said with a wink.

                I nodded before hurrying back upstairs. I carefully picked the lock of Tommy’s door before letting myself into his room.

                Tommy didn’t bother turning to face me. He was looking out of his window, looking so terribly broken that my heart ached at the sight of him. I moved towards him and he held out his hand.

                “Don’t,” he said quietly. “I’m done, Zeke. I can’t watch you love Kory when you claim to love me. It’s screwing with my head, and I’m sick of it. I do love you. But I don’t love the way you make me feel. I hate feeling second best. I shouldn’t feel like that when I’m your boyfriend.”

                “Tommy, I didn’t cheat on you. I swear I didn’t. Don’t believe Davey over me. Please. I love you so much Tommy,” I said desperately.

                “But I’m not the only one you love,” he said, sounding tired. “And I just can’t deal with that anymore. It’s driving me crazy. It’s…”

                Breaking his heart. It was breaking Tommy’s heart. I was hurting him.

                “I never meant to hurt you Tommy,” I whispered.

                “I know you didn’t Zeke. And that’s the worst part about it. So please, just leave me alone,” he said, turning back to look out of his window.

                “Tommy, are you breaking up with me?” I asked, feeling sick.

                Tommy remained silent, not looking at me. Just staring out of the window, his expression blank except for the pain in his eyes.

                “I love you Tommy,” I said quietly, knowing in my heart that this wasn’t over. I turned and slowly left his bedroom, gently shutting the door as I went.

                No, this wouldn’t be the end of us. I wouldn’t let it be. I had a slight plan already. I was going to fix everything and get Davey to leave poor Tommy alone. Maybe I couldn’t repair the damage I had done to him, but I could at least let him know he was the only one I wanted.

                I was just praying that it wasn’t too late.

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A.N.- I'm sorry. I know it sucks. I know it's confusing. I know it's short. I know it's repetitive. But this story is reallyyy hard for me to write right now, because of my own relationship problems. So I know I owe you guys sooo much  more, but this is all I can manage at the moment, and I'm sorry. I'll try to make it better