Chapter 1

Yard sales were always an adventure, and fairly common around Nikko's hometown. There was always one to be found at some hour of the day, and he made a point to wake up early just to find one on his way to school each day. Most of the time he found nothing interesting, but sometimes he'd get his hands on a good set of binders for school, or a lamp or something like that. Never anything as curious as this book, reasonably priced at only five bucks. Even though he couldn't pry the pages apart no matter how hard he tried, the teen soon found himself slipping it in his bag, as well as a five-dollar bill into the man's sweaty palm.

The mystery of the book only hung in his head for about ten minutes, just long enough to turn the corner and step back, narrowly avoiding a Smartcar as it cut around the corner like it wanted to be a Mustang. Then his thoughts turned forward, to school projects and the upcoming fall dance. That was the last thing he wanted to think about, but it was also pretty important. While most guys had a girl in mind, pre-booked like a venue, Nikko was still running the singles lane. It wasn't that he was bad looking or anything. A little on the pale side, true, and not exactly a bodybuilder, but he had a nice lean look about him. Dark black hair hung over his right eye in a layered emo-bang, curling just past the nape of his neck and framing his features nicely. A few shorter pieces stuck up at the top, but in a pleasing manner, and a few blue, green, and blond streaks added a splash of punk-like colour to the whole thing. They also matched the turquoise colour of his eyes, right down to the brownish-gold ring around the iris. Even the light freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheeks were considered somewhat attractive, enough to earn him a few girls asking him out.

The real problem was the fact that none of the girls in school actually interested him. At first, it wasn't a big deal, but as time wore on people, mostly his closer friends, started to notice. The thing was, for the life of him Nikko just couldn't find himself pining for any kind of girl. Now guys on the other hand well... There was Carji.

In a small, backwater town like Nikko's, there was actually a surprising lack of homophobia, which should have been a great invitation for Nikko to feel comfortable liking a guy over a girl. Still, it wasn't exactly something he'd ever spoken to someone about, knowing nobody else who'd come out of the proverbial closet, and his only family member having passed away a year ago. Even then, he and his mother had never exactly been close. She'd always been distant in his life, just barely emotionally alive enough to teach him the basics, without any real connection. It had only been after her suicide he'd found out the truth, that she'd suffered from severe depression. At least she'd had enough of her mind still together to bother setting up an insurance thing for Nikko, which had kept him financed for the past year, being legally of age to care for himself since his birthday, only a week before his mothers passing.

He should have felt upset, but he couldn't dredge up much of anything to feel about it, except maybe some relief that he had a name for what it had all been. An answer of sorts. She'd been so little in his life, that her sudden loss hadn't impacted him as much as it should have. He simply carried on, making his own sandwiches for school, taking the bus and all that. He'd even picked up a job at a local campground during the summer for extra funds, although it had ended a month ago and he'd yet to get another job. He hadn't even gone to the funeral, which never actually occurred since he was apparently the only one who would have gone at all. In the end, she left as quietly as she'd lived, cremated as her will had requested, the ashes scattered into the ocean.

Thoughts of his mother didn't linger in his mind long anyways. There was his last year of school to think about, and then what to do afterwards. The insurance didn't cover college and only two more years of rent and necessities. He'd thought about working to save up for something, maybe go on into the arts and do make-up for the movies. He enjoyed doing that much at least. Speaking of make-up, he still hadn't decided on a costume for the upcoming dance. Being so close to Halloween, it was a costumed event, and despite the common belief that teenagers were 'too cool' to dress up, everyone always showed up in costume. Being older just meant you got to be something cooler, like a zombie or the headless horseman.

Maybe he'd dress up as a zombie, or something with a cool prosthetic mask. Assuming he even found a date. He could always go solo, but that would mean being the awkward third wheel, as all of his friends had a date. Even the ever so geeky Sean.

So busy was Nikko's mind with these thoughts, he didn't even realize he'd arrived at school. He also didn't realize there was someone at the door until he ran right into him. It wasn't a hard contact, but the shock was enough to stagger the other figure as well as drop Nikko on his backside. Grimacing, he risked a glance up and felt all the colour drain from his face.

At least four inches taller than Nikko, the guy had a soccer players build, not quite as lean as Nikko himself but still fairly lithe. He had a slight tan, a lip piercing, and hair the colour of melted gold that fell in light spikes to his shoulders, with a streak of purplish-brown that framed his left eye. It was the eyes Nikko liked the best, a golden brown like honey and lashes a girl would kill for. Or ten girls, which was exactly how many he'd turned down for the dance if rumours were to be believed. Nikko sure believed them, because a guy like Carji was the reason 'popular' became a high school term. He was sure of it. As much as he was sure he had about two minutes before the strangely alone Carji became swarmed by his usual fanbase.

Carji blinked slowly, taking in Nikko's appearance as if he'd never seen him before. Suddenly Nikko wished he'd chosen something a little neater to wear, instead of his favourite gray hoody. The thing showed it's favouritism in every tear and loose thread, as well as the missing zipper that left the whole thing open, showing off a simple faded black tee. At least his jeans weren't scuffed, unlike his only pair of blue and white sneakers, the left one showing a crack where the sole was falling away.

Carji, on the other hand, looked as great as ever. His blue sweater hung in a way that made him look like he was shirtless underneath, enough to let the mind wander suggestively, and with bright yellow print on the front that read "LOL". His black jeans had a yellow suspender and a blue one, the latter bearing repetitive print of the word "You" in black. His sneakers seemed to match the blue-black-yellow colour code, with laces and sole of blue and a smiley face of the same colour on the black tongue. Nikko heard a throat clear and quickly looked away, realizing he'd been staring too intently to notice the offered hand.

It took him a moment to register the fact that Carji was offering a hand up, and another moment to actually build up the courage to accept it. Courage that failed him when he tried to mutter a thank you, instead emitting some sort of garbled sound that made his face flame up. Carji laughed warmly, offering a matching smile. "You're welcome," he answered as if he'd understood regardless. "You alright?" Nikko could only nod, studying the curves of yellow over Carji's sneakers. The other teen stood there a moment, still holding Nikko's hand before finally dropping it. Blinking quickly, Nikko's head shot up just in time to vomit up a rushed "Sorry!" to the blondes retreating back. Carji paused and looked over his shoulder for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. "I'm not," he answered simply, carrying on his way.

Nikko stood there, dumbstruck. He'd bumped into Carji. He'd held his hand. Carji wasn't sorry for it. The last fact was enough to shove a stupid grin on the teen's face as he shuffled inside, urged on by the first bell. He was still grinning as he slammed his locker shut, coming face to face with his trio of best buddies and nearly choking on his own heart. "You didn't show up." Quick to the point, that was Sean. Not even bothering to match Nikko's gaze as he focused on the effort of cleaning his glasses. An inch under Nikko's own height, the black-haired Asian had a bluntness about him that sometimes rubbed against Nikko's self-consciousness, but he was close friends with Yamu, and thus as an extension sort of friends with Nikko. At least he was someone who could always be counted on to say it as it was.

Yamu was a sort of irony. People joked they were switched at birth, because of the fact Yamu's family was Asian and Sean's was American, but their appearances said the opposite. With a wild shock of blond hair and bright blue eyes, Yamu fit the stereotype of a preppy cool boy by image. He definitely took care of his sense of style and made a point of poking fun at Nikko's drab sense of fashion, but it was always in a friendly sort of way. Even now, Nikko could see the way Yamu sized up his favourite hoody, flashing him a 'you've got to be joking' look.

"Give him a break, if it wasn't for him we wouldn't have had the tickets in the first place." Like his own little savour, Elis piped up. The only girl in the group, she had a sense of fashion more on par with Nikko's own, but enough to get Yamu's approval. Pink hair fell all over the place down to her chin, and today seemed to be her red hoody and patched green and yellow gypsy pants day. Of course, she never failed to show up with a pair of headphones over her neck, a fact her teachers hated her for. She was also Nikko's best friend of the three, and the only one he'd ever admitted the truth to about his choice in dates. As well as the fact he'd never been on one.

She flashed him her usual lazy smile, green eyes betraying a hint of concern for good reason. He'd promised he'd make that concert, even pitched in for tickets the other three couldn't completely afford, and in the end, he'd chickened out again. Even for Thousand Foot Krutch, he just couldn't sum up the courage to deal with a packed evening crowd, his fear of it leaving him standing at the door for an hour before he'd given up. He could only shrug now, focusing on gathering his books under a weight of guilt while the others chatted up a storm about how the concert had gone, how one guy had tried to stage dive and broke his wrist, and how Yamu managed to get the last autographed t-shirt. It wasn't a conversation that lasted long, as the second bell had the others splitting off for class, Elis giving him a look that insisted they have a chat later.