I'm so sorry for not updating this story consistently, those of you that are enjoying it and keeping up with it. I'm on break now so it should be easier to update, but…I'm bad with posting. For a while I didn't know how to start this chapter, but I'm very happy with how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy it; the feel goods are taking a back seat now.

Robert waited on the front porch as he looked down the street for the right headlights; the evening's dark shadows began to engulf the neighborhood until the streetlights lining the road came on. He wasn't use to needing a jacket this time of year, but now he was farther north.

He wouldn't have minded walking to the Pierce house that night, or any night, but Britney's parents insisted he be picked up. Clenching his jacket tighter, Robert anxiously rubbed his legs together, shuddering with relief for being coerced to accept the ride, glancing down the opposite end of the street before hearing a car pull into the empty driveway. Solace warmed him as stood to approach the parked vehicle.

Opening the passenger-side door, Robert saw Britney's mother at the wheel. A smile spread across her face before speaking to him. "Good evening Robert, hungry for dinner?" Her voice was so warm and sweet, it instantly comforted him.

"Yeah I am, Mrs. Pierce. How are you?" he asked with ease.

"I'm pretty good, thank you," she assured as she pulled out of the driveway.

"So shepherd's pie tonight, I'm pretty excited," Mrs. Pierce mused, driving through the residential neighborhood.

"It's been quite a while since I had it at all, and that's an instant mash kind at that," Robert admitted before stiffening, surprised by his own candid nature.

Mrs. Pierce giggled. "Like us you're pretty lucky then I suppose, getting such a rare invitation," she teased. "It's really nice how you two are close now; it's been a little over a week since meeting?"

Robert blushed slightly, looking straight ahead as he spoke. "yeah that's about right." He fixated on the headlights of the car dispelling the darkness, anticipating Mrs. Pierce's train of thought and how much further the house and Rory were.

"He's really such a sweet kid, we love having him with us. It's too bad he hasn't made more friends over the time he's been here though," she divulged with a disappointed tone.

"Yeah, he is pretty great," Robert agreed timidly. He recognized the street Mrs. Pierce turned on; he peered through the evening to see their house in sight.

"It's swell that he has you as a friend though. He deserves that something good," she claimed as she turned into the driveway. Without another word she shut off the car and got out; like a confused child mimicking her example, Robert got out too, at a loss for words.

Inside the home, he didn't make it five steps into the warm foyer before Rory greeted him, coming from the kitchen.

"Robert, how are ya mate?" he asked overjoyed, approaching with arms open.

"I'm good, and hungry," Robert answered after hugging the boy. "Speaking of hunger, it smells really nice in here!"

"Oh thank ya; I've been cooking since getting home from school. What perfect timing too because it's about done. And we have ice cream for dessert! You can thank Mrs. Pierce for suggesting it, I wouldn't have thought of it—something cold to cool the hot meal—"

"I'll be in the kitchen, okay boys?" Mrs. Pierce soothed under Rory's speech, winking before strolling through the foyer.

When she was out of sight, Rory spoke again, more self-conscious. "I was rambling again wasn't I, sorry."

Robert looked into Rory's stone-grey eyes before speaking. "Don't feel bad, it's cute," he charmed, patting him on the shoulder as he walked past him. He didn't wait to see his reaction; he wasn't sure if that was a flirt or anything, but Robert's chest still buzzed with glee none the less.

—

Around the table they say. Mr. Pierce sat at the head, his large, thick lenses obscuring his face; Britney and her mother sat on one side of the table, facing Robert and Rory's seat. The plates, the dishes, the drinks, the silverware—they were all laid out. Rory was across the room preparing to bring the shepherd's pie to the table when Mr. Pierce spoke abruptly; the sudden volume was startling.

"Well it's great to have you over again, Robert! It's about time you joined us for dinner."

"Yeah I suppose, thank you very much for having me over though," Robert qualified quickly.

"Anytime, anytime," he bellowed, "it would give us more of an excuse to cook more. The first week we had Rory here over," he began shamelessly as Rory approached the group with the glass dish of steaming food, maneuvering to place it on the cloth in the center, "we had like meatloaf and whatnot, but we all knew that facade wasn't gonna last."

"I think I was having withdrawals from Lucky Charms and macaroni," Britney chimed flatly, glancing at Robert as she picked her nails.

Mrs. Pierce glanced between her daughter and her husband before speaking up, her forehead crinkling. "You two make it sound like nothing ever gets cooked in this house," she defended. "Rory we don't cook that little, do we?"

Rory straightened up as soon as he was addressed, just sitting down in his chair next to Robert. "Definitely, miss. We had hamburgers that one time, a week ago," he confirmed briefly.

"Let's dig in before it can scald the roofs of our mouths—oh wait we should say a blessing or something!" Mr. Pierce uttered right before plunging the knife he wield into the crisp, bumpy surface of the dish. Mrs. Pierce feigned amusement at her husband, discarding the guilt of her countenance as she reached for Britney's and her husband's hands with a grin. "Britney, why don't you say our traditional Pierce prayer; you don't mind of course, right Robert?" he inquired.

"Well no, I'm fine—"

"That's nice! Brit?" he directed with a chuckle before hanging his head. Robert glanced sideways at Rory before looking down at his hand; he was game for subtle flirting, but as nominal as sharing grace was at a dinner table he restrained himself. It wasn't long he looked at the boy beside him before he threw his head down, hands clasped in his lap.

Robert rarely performed the ritual of prayer, even when he had a formal dinner with his family, which was a scarce occasion in itself. He would later chuckle at the irony of the situation, how ceremonious he was for the unconventional prayer.

"We sit here starving as we thank you Jesus…uh God for the food and stuff. It'll be a heavenly day when we can just eat and not starve. In Jesus name, amen."

Robert mumbled to agree, quietly bemused by the quick "traditional Pierce" prayer. He looked to his left to check with Rory; the boy smiled and winked at him, communicating another amen to Robert.

The food slowly disappeared as more portions were helped to, glasses of soda dwindling and refilling, to chase down the moist, cheesy meat and potatoes.

"Oh my gosh, Rory," Robert exclaimed during the meal, "this is like amazing! You more than picked up a few things from your mom."

"Thank ya, Robert. It almost wasn't real shepherd's pie, but thanks to Mrs. Pierce I found some good lamb." He smiled as he nodded his gratitude towards her before turning back to Robert.

"It wasn't difficult, and it's clearly worth finding a good deli. Wonderful meal, Rory!" she praised.

"I agree, good work!" Mr. Pierce confirmed, reaching to again considerably dust the mound on his plate with salt, genuinely smiling as he did so. Rory glanced between the shaking salt in his hand and Mr. Pierce, grateful, but Robert at least saw the forlorn in his eyes. The grey hue of his eyes read dull with disappointment as he continued to eat.

Robert covertly placed his hand on Rory's leg before whispering to him. "It really is good, thank you." Rory said nothing, but returned the gesture with a sincere countenance, his eyes and smile humming bright with gratitude.

"So how long have you been in Ohio, Robert?" Mr. Pierce asked suddenly. The spotlight that appeared on Robert wasn't undivided and intense like an interrogation, but the eerie sense of being before a Roman tribunal was present.

"I guess about four weeks, give or take. Took a week off school to get settled and unpacked, then I was registered with McKinley High," he answered coolly.

"Where did you move from?" he asked bluntly again. "It's not everyday kids enroll a couple months into the semester."

"Uh Florida, sir."

He huffed with laughter before speaking. "Among other things it's a weather shock ay?" Mr. Pierce prodded. "Why?"

"Why…what, sir?"

"Why'd you leave Florida?" he asked unapologetically.

"Honey you should have more tact," Mrs. Pierce interjected. "You can't boldly ask people their reasons for doing such major things like that, it could be personal." She exchanged a quick side glance with Robert, reverence in her eyes. Robert returned the contact candidly: fazed.

"Oh, personal? Is it personal then?" Mr. Pierce pressed.

Robert returned his look more composed. "Something like that," he replied more casually. "I came here to live with my mom," he revealed boldly with a conclusive nod. He pointedly turned away to finish the last remaining scoops of his shepherd's pie on his plate; the silence could have been worse he rationalized. Cleaning off his plate, Robert glanced around the table feigning ease. "Can I have more, it's quite good!"

Eventually the dinner ended, quiet and sudden. Mrs. Pierce insisted that she take Robert home, but also he was still welcome to stay for a while longer; it wasn't a school night, and as long as it was okay with his mother he could stay and watch a movie. He graciously accepted, choosing not to deflect her vast, warm kindness.

"I'm also going to put some of this food into a container so you can take some home with you," she offered, scooping healthy portions into a Tupperware. She stood by the counter as she conversed with the two boys; Britney retreated to her room after the meal and her father retired to the bedroom. Among other feelings, Robert harbored some guilt for inadvertently making the dinner awkward. "It's okay with you he takes some, right Rory?" Mrs. Pierce asked. "You made it and all."

"Of course Robert can take some!" Rory exclaimed joyfully.

"Well since you're going to stay for a little longer," she assessed happily as she pressed the plastic lid on top of the container, "you two can find a movie we own or find something pay-for-view—it's a Friday night," she charmed whimsically. "I'll leave this in the here for now." She lightly placed the food in the refrigerator before speaking again. "Robert, I want to take you home, remember that. Come get me when you would like to go home. I'm going to join Mr. Pierce for now so you two enjoy the night."

"Thank you again, Mama," Robert said as she left the kitchen.

A quick moment later, Rory spoke up. "Come on then, Robert, paper view awaits!" He walked ahead of him into the living room with confidence. Robert watched him saunter away, content, full, and warm, happy to be with his best friend in Ohio.

He joined him on the soft, plush couch seconds later, silently watching Rory attempt to find the pay-for-view section. Eventually, Rory surrendered the remote control to Robert before Robert had the decency to offer his help.

"I just don't know how to work it," Rory admitted jokingly.

"I'm the douche that just sat and watched you," Robert teased as he took the remote. "I think I can find something." Rory grinned at the brief banter and leaned back silently, watching the screen and Robert.

Thumbing through the large selection of movies new and old, most of which Rory didn't mention knowing at all, Robert tried to find something he at least knew. He liked sharing movies he knew with people that didn't know them, it was like reliving the initial joy he experienced from the film through another. The two boys were quiet though. Robert concentrated on the list before him. Rory pondered as he was leaned back, out of Robert's view on the couch. Rory soon elicited his thoughts to him, apprehensive.

"Robert, what's so personal about moving to Ohio?"

Robert stopped scrolling through the menu of movies and quickly glanced at the boy, his eyebrows slightly raised. He casually looked back at the screen as he spoke. "He uh…my father passed away this last April." He shifted his weight through the silence that descended upon them; it didn't weigh on them for long however.

"Robert…I'm so sorry, mate. I didn't know." The compassion in his voice was thick like tar. It rubbed Robert in more than one way.

"Well how could you know—" Robert snapped before shaking his head, stunned by the reflex. "I mean it's okay, thank you. I didn't tell you, you wouldn't know."

Rory lifted his hand tentatively towards Robert before slowly placing it on his leg. The contact startled Robert's nerves, he barely retained his composure. He looked at Rory again—into his eyes—to hear him speak. "You know you can tell me anything, Robert. If you want to talk about anything…I'm here for you." His sincerity was a warm as Robert's skin felt, soothed by the deliberate rubbing motion of Rory's thumb on his thigh.

Robert was light-headed by his confusion and ecstasy. Through his stupor he attempted to speak. "I know I can tell you anything. You are my closest friend here, Rory, know that." He didn't expect him now to be so bold. Rory leaned forwards toward Robert before speaking. If Robert knew what the boy was about to say, he would have deflected the topic long ago.

"If I'm your closest friend, how come I haven't been over to your house, or met your mom?" His stare stone and deliberate, Rory's sensitive tone disguised his inadvertently blunt question.

The rage that sparked and subsequently riveted Robert didn't ignite instantly. It wasn't until his mood shifted that he realized how physically close he was to the boy. Their lips, their exhales wafting across each other, the potential for anything—they were all so near to happening. Yet in that same instant the possibility was farther gone than ever.

"Because it's all shit," Robert whispered, acid dripping in his voice. "Why would you...say that?" He instantly shot up from the couch and Rory's warmth. Grabbing his coat off the rack in the hall, he swiftly reached for the front door. The evening was much colder than it was at dusk, but Robert didn't flinch against it. He braced the chilly wind whipping at his face. He heard Rory stumble behind after him; he didn't stop to hear what Rory had to say, it was behind him, like so much more.

"Robert, wait!" he begged. "You—you forgot your leftovers!"