This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

I woke up in a house that I didn't recognize.

"Hey, you're up." I saw a blurry person in front of me wearing a tank-top.

"Wh– where am I?" I asked, my mouth dry. The person sipped their drink.

"Mm, my house," they said. "I just made this really good kale smoothie. Want some?" They shook their cup in front of my face.

"No, thank you."

"You sure? You sound dry, bro." 'Bro'? Who is this person?

"Who are you? And why am I here?"

"Don't you remember falling in that shuck yesterday?"

"A bit, yeah."

"There's your answer. I found you bleedin' out in it. Patched ya up and let ye stay here. Now, thank me."

"Thank you," I said, coughing.

"You're very welcome."

"What's your name?" They didn't respond, instead they put their finger to their lips.

"I'm gonna get you some kale smoothie. It'll help, I promise."

"You make a lot of promises." They were already in the kitchen, fixing up a glass.

"Do I?" They sounded absent.

"I'd say so. Where are you from?" They came back, holding another drink.

"Lots of questions today, huh? I'm from Cali." They handed me the kale smoothie.

"As in California? As in the U.S.?"

"Ah, yup," they said, nodding. I took a sip of the smoothie. Wasn't too bad, if I do say so myself. They had a big ol' beanie on, partially hiding their face.

"And why are you here?"

"Okay, geez, kid. The questions are gettin' annoyin'. It's none of ya business, so shut yer trap," they growled.

"Fine. Trap shut," I said, taking another sip.

"Whenever you feel ready, feel free to leave," they said, setting their drink down and grabbing a coat. "I have somewhere I need to be, and taking care of some kid wasn't on my bucket list for staying in Boyle, Ireland."

"Got it."

"Be seein' ya." And they left through the front door.

I fell asleep and woke up again in the person's house, but it didn't seem like they were home. I pulled the blanket off and tentatively put one foot on the floor. I was wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms that weren't mine and a T-shirt for the band 'Nirvana.' My limbs were all bandaged up, but I was able to move them, thankfully. I stood and twirled around for a second. I felt fine, minus a few little spikes of pain here n' there.

I walked around the house a bit. It was pretty plain. With the usual kind of decorations that you'd find in an Irish house. The walls were wood. The house itself was one story, but had a very high roof. After exploring thoroughly, I found my shoes by the front door. I slipped them on and opened the front door. Outside, the sky was grey and cloudy.

Then, little raindrops fell down. I reached my hand out, and a few droplets melted on my skin. I stepped outside fully, closing the front door behind me. I pulled up my shirt a bit to cover the back of my head, and ran. I was in the middle of town. I knew the way home.

When I reached the apartment complex, I was sopping. I panted and opened the front doors. The usual security guard nodded at me, and I nodded back.

I headed upstairs, making sure not to slip. I didn't want to end up in the hospital again this week. Hopefully, Mam didn't worry about me.

When I reached the top and found our apartment number, I knocked on the door. I didn't have my keys on me. They probably got lost when I fell.

Mam opened the door almost immediately. "Where were you?" She said, panic marring her features. Then, she noticed the bandages on me, and grabbed my arm, pulling me inside.

"Are you okay? What happened?" She was checking everything frantically. She was speaking too fast, so I stopped her.

"It's okay, Mammy. I just fell down a shuck. Someone saved me, and helped me," I said, holding her hand.

"It's not 'okay'," she said as she started crying, "you didn't come home! My baby went missing, and I couldn't find you, and the peelers20 told me to wait a little to see if you would come back. No Mam wants their child to disappear on them. I– I was worried that I'd lost you forever," she said, leaning her forehead on my shoulder.

"I'm okay now. I'm back, and I won't leave again. I promise, Mammy," I said, almost crying myself.

"I love you so much," she said, shifting me on the cheek. "But it's the last two weeks of school. Do you think you can go? School starts in," she looks down at her watch, "thirty minutes."

"Yeah, Mam. I'll go." I let go of her hand.

"Grand21, I'll go make breakfast for ya, you go ahead an' get dressed?" I decided not to say anything. I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, and changed.

My bedroom consisted of one small bed in the corner, clothes packed away neatly on a little shelf, and a wall of games and books.

I ate the breakfast Mam had made and headed out earlier than usual. I'd made a promise to my teacher, after all. I set my keys on the table, put my bowl in the sink, and shifted Mam goodbye and left the apartment.

I skipped down the stairs. I expected to see the security guard, but he wasn't there. Now that I was thinking about it, the security guard looked awful familiar. Where did he go, anyway?

I shrugged off the uneasy feeling and left the building. The air outside was less humid than the days before, but it was still hot. I felt another buzz in my pocket, and pulled my phone out.

It was Nyx.

Nyx: "Did you get home okay?"

Shit.

I should just block them, right? But... We've been friends for years. It's not right to block them. So, I put my phone away, and get another notification.

Nyx: "You don't have to ignore me."

I turned my phone off and ignored them. 

I got to school ten minutes early. I was the only one there, so I sat at my desk. I had to finish up the homework that I'd gotten from my teacher. I pulled it out and started working on it.

I hated maths. Maths was the worst subject to take in high school. We were working on variables and equations that made no sense to my brain.

"Ugh," I growled, scratching out the equation I was using and substituting in another. "This is gobshite."

"Not if you do it this way," Shane said, grabbing my hand and moving the pencil. I startled. His chest was pressed against my back, with his voice in my ear.

"Hey, Shane..." I said, turning scarlet.

"Hey, mate. Why are you here so early?" He moved to sit backward at the desk in front of mine (which just so happened to be Riagán's).

"I made a deal with our maths teacher. If I get here on time or early, I'm allowed to go to class, which means I can graduate." It also means I get to spend more time with you.

"Oh, that's good," he said, trailing off. He sat there staring at me. I couldn't help but stare back. The bathroom thing that happened yesterday kept replaying in my mind: him shifting my forehead, sleeping on the floor together, and him asking me out. I told him I wasn't gay, but-- Shane's different. It doesn't feel like I'm being gay if that makes sense. I– I want to be with him. He's just Shane.

"Hey," I looked up and met his eyes. I'd been focusing on his lips. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? Yea," I said absentmindedly. I was watching his lips again. Shane grabbed my arm and pulled the sleeve up, revealing the arm covered in bandages.

"What happened?" He looked genuinely shocked and worried.

"Nothin'," I said, trying to pull my arm out of his grip.

"Stop faffing around and fucking tell me what happened!" He said, slamming his hands on my desk and causing my pencil to clatter to the ground.

He was breathing hard. I didn't know what to say or do. He put his hand over mine, hiding his face from me.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's okay, I understand where yer coming from," I said. "I fell into a shuck last night, that's why. Got some brambles and nettles stuck in me. I'm okay, promise." I'd seen British people do this thing before when they say 'promise' and stick their pinkies out, so that's what I did. Shane looked up at me and smiled. I wanted to poke his dimples. Shane grabbed my hand and shifted me on the pinky.

My face turned scarlet again, and I pulled both of my hands from his and touched my face.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," he said, squatting on the floor beside my desk. "And I'm sorry that I lashed out at you." I didn't know what that meant.

"I won't do it again," he said as he reached for my hands. I wouldn't let him have them. I was still too confused to let him that close.

Shane shook his head and laughed, but not in the good way. The kinda way that sends chills down yer spine. "We've both lashed out at each other now, so we're even, correct?" It wasn't really a question. 

20: Peelers- A member of the police force.

21: Grand- It can be used to describe something that's good or it can be used as a response to 'are you/is it Ok?'. Typically a way to avoid discussion.