Chapter Text
When Liam Dunbar was 7 years old, his dad had bought him a shiny red and blue Spiderman lunch box for his first day of 1st grade. It had been one of those special 3D lunch boxes that moved when tilted one way, as if Spiderman was really moving. Liam had given a loud squeal as he grabbed onto his present, beaming up at his dad with glistening blue eyes and a toothy smile. His dad had smiled back sadly.
On the drive to school, Liam had been vibrating out of the car seat in anticipation, right hand clutched tightly onto his brand new lunch box and mouth moving through a continuous stream of whatever excited 7 year olds talked about. As the door opened and the click of the seatbelt sounded, his mom barely got half a hug in before the young boy was peeling off across the grass and into the building.
Liam practically sprinted into his new classroom, knocking over some chairs as he swept through like a hurricane. He watched eagerly as the other students tentatively approached each other, trying, obviously, to find their best friend for life. Hugging his Spiderman lunchbox closer to his body like a lifeline, Liam hoped that maybe there would be someone perfect for him. It didn’t take long at all for a tap on his shoulder to answer his wish, and Liam turned to see a boy smiling shyly at him. In his hands was a purple and green Hulk lunchbox, with a tape over the box where, in blocky black letters, was the name Mason. The “s” was written backwards. Liam grinned and held his own lunchbox up, fitted with his own tape and own name, Liam, written, conveniently with the “L” backwards.
Two weeks later, kneeling on the floor of their living room, Liam’s mother had cried as she hugged him, apologizing to him over and over again between silent sobs. She had told him it wasn’t his fault, whispered to him as she stroked his hair softly. Liam hadn’t fully understood, not then. All he knew was that his dad had left them, had left him.
“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll be okay. Sometimes people leave, and that’s okay.” He hadn’t known if she had been talking to him or herself.
Liam sat sullenly in the passenger seat of Theo’s stupid truck, strapped in tightly like some sort of prisoner. He stared out the window angrily, wishing to any higher being that was listening that the drive to Scott’s house was faster. Liam didn’t want to have Theo as his designated chauffeur, he hated it with his entire being. The sheer fact that it had been the mass murdering chimera that had dragged him out of his self imposed isolation to unwillingly attend a post Ghost Rider pack meeting was, frankly, hurtful. He had just wanted to spend the start of summer in peace. And honestly, was he worth so little effort that Theo was who Scott sent? Where was Mason? Probably busy getting lost in Corey’s eyes, Liam thought bitterly. Theo, to his credit, had been keeping blessedly silent, probably overly aware of the scent of anger and annoyance radiating off of Liam in waves.
Of course, blessings don’t last long, they never do. A hitch in Theo’s breath indicated that the blasted science experiment was about to open his mouth. Liam tensed, preparing for the lesson in control he was definitely about to get.
“Look, I know Hayden leaving was hard on you -” Liam squeezed his eyes shut and focused solely on evening his breaths. In, out, in, out, in, out. “- but it’s not like you can’t call each other or visit, it’s not the end of the world.”
“Can you shut up.”
Theo sighed, but rather than giving up like Liam desperately wanted, he continued, because why wouldn’t he? When had Theo Raeken ever shut up when someone wanted him to?
“I guess it’s first love though, am I right? The toughest one to get over, but it will happen with time.”
Now this was rich. The bastard was smirking at him too, like they had just shared a moment or something. Liam couldn’t help but snort in disbelief.
“What on earth would you know about first love? Or love, or even feelings, for that matter? Just leave me alone and drive faster.”
The smirk dropped instantly, and Theo paused for a long time, disconcertingly long. His knuckles cracked as he gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary, and Liam growled at the sound. He knew he was being petty, but he didn’t care. They continued the rest of the ride in blissful silence.
“We’re here. Get out of my truck.”
“Are you coming?”
“And risk getting my throat ripped out by multiple angry werewolves and werewolf adjacents? I’m good.”
“Alright, see you never.”
Liam got out and slammed the door intentionally loudly, stomping up the driveway towards the McCall house. He heard the sound of Theo’s truck speeding off almost as soon as his foot landed on the pavement. He didn’t care to look back.
The pack meeting was mind-numbingly boring and wholly unnecessary. Liam suspected it was held just so Scott could make sure he was doing alright. Which he wasn’t. He wasn’t at all. But the pack couldn’t know that. Liam didn’t think he could take any more looks of pity or pep talks about “getting over breakups”. He tried to get Mason’s attention, but his best friend was too busy fussing over Corey to really notice. His time spent with Liam had decreased significantly ever since he saw his boyfriend stabbed full of tubes in the Wild Hunt. Now it was as if they were never apart, as if even leaving Corey’s side for a moment meant he would turn invisible and never turn back. Liam empathized, he truly did, but it didn’t stop the feelings of bitterness and jealousy from clawing and winding around his aching heart.
Stiles was currently droning on and on about something or other, while Scott was trying unsuccessfully to watch Liam from the corner of his eyes with barely concealed worry. Liam’s fingers absently found their way towards the woven bracelet on his right wrist, tracing the soft bumps of the worn fabric. Hayden had given it to him shortly after they had gotten together, after being trapped by the Dread doctors. She had made it herself, and painted tiny blue wolves onto it, running round and round, forever and ever in an endless cycle above Liam’s pulse point. He had remembered getting flustered and trying to make one for her in return, only to fail spectacularly and ending up with a ripped and torn monstrosity with flecks of vaguely jaguar shaped paint blobs chipping off the ends. Hayden had smiled brightly as he had sheepishly handed it to her, and looked at it like it was the most beautiful thing in the world. She had worn it proudly, and punched a boy in their chemistry class for making fun of it. He wondered if she still wore it. Probably not.
He had loved her so much, and he thought she felt the same.
But then again, his dad had loved him too.
And they had both left him. Like it as nothing, like it was so easy. Sometimes people leave, and that’s okay.
When Liam got home later that night, he ripped off the bracelet and tossed it into a storage bin tucked away in his closet. It landed right on top of his dust-covered Spiderman lunch box. Liam kicked the bin further into his closet until it was out of sight. Maybe one day he would toss it out for good, like he had told himself all those years ago.
A letter was sitting on the kitchen counter, with a note stuck to the top of it. Liam wiped the sleep out of his eyes and begrudgingly took a look. The note was from his mother, he recognized the looping handwriting almost immediately.
Congratulations!!! We’re so proud of you!
- Remember to eat breakfast, see you tonight dear.
Proud? Liam glanced at the letter, seeing that the envelope had already been opened, though it was addressed to him. Frowning, he tugged out the slip of paper peeking from within the envelope and unfolded it. The first thing he saw was a ridiculously giant logo of two winged lacrosse sticks crisscrossed in front of what appeared to be a wolf howling- ironic. The logo took up a third of the page, but it told Liam all he needed to know. It was a letter accepting him into the highly prestigious and incredibly exclusive Youth National Lacrosse Summer Camp held in Sacramento that year.
It was an unbelievable achievement, to have been chosen among thousands of applicants all over the United States, to have premier league coaching and a real chance at playing professionally in the future. Liam should have been over the moon, he should have been ecstatic, should have jumped up and down screaming and texting everyone he knew. Yet, all he could think of was the soft touch of Hayden’s hands as she urged him to apply, and how her hair smelled faintly of hibiscus when she helped him formulate his cover letter and took him to get ice cream after it was all said and done. He hadn’t wanted to apply, hadn’t thought he was good enough, even with his werewolf powers, but Hayden had believed in him. She had been the reason he made it, and now she wasn’t even here. Liam thought of maybe texting her a short thanks, but even thinking about it hurt. He sat there on the kitchen counter for a long time, folding and unfolding the letter in his hands until the paper was too creased to hold together.
Later that night at dinner, he told his mom and stepdad that he didn’t want to go. He had honestly expected much more push back, and had prepared for a difficult argument, especially from Dr. Geyer, who had once been a budding lacrosse star himself. Instead, what he got was arguably worse. His parents exchanged a defeated look, and accepted his refusal. Just like that. Liam felt the tendrils of rage begin to envelop him, and he fought to keep it back. Why was he getting mad? His parents weren’t going to give him a hard time, this should be good news. He should be happy. So why wasn’t he?
“So you’re not even going to tell me that I’m being stupid?” Liam couldn’t help but blurt out. Sometimes he wondered why he talked. “Isn’t it a parent’s job to convince your kid to go to a summer camp that could literally set him up for life?”
“Liam, we know you’re hurting, and if you’re not up for it, there’s always next summer -”
“I’m fine! What’s not fine is why you’re not even trying to parent me properly.”
“Liam -”
Liam pushed back from the table and stormed upstairs to his room, slamming the door shut. Below, he could hear his parents’ worried murmurs, and he shut himself off from the sounds. He knew listening in would just make him that much more frustrated. Instead, he focused on the stinging pain in his palms as his claws dug into the soft flesh, grounding him slowly, so slowly.
After his mother had remarried, life had generally gotten better. David Geyer was a respected surgeon, and a good man. He treated Liam like his own almost from day one, and played lacrosse with him, a sport Liam had first gotten into as an outlet for his anger. And so he had a father figure again. A calm, reasonable, understanding and supportive one, one which his mother was convinced wouldn’t leave. However, being a surgeon meant late and often unpredictable work hours, and that paired with his mother’s equally taxing job meant neither parent was really around during the day. It was fine when he had school, where Liam would hang out after class with his friends or the pack, or mess around in the lacrosse field until the late night janitor yelled at him to leave. During this particular summer though, it meant Liam was stuck at home alone. Everyone was busy or away. Scott, Kira and Stiles had left recently for a road trip, mainly to visit their colleges. Malia and Lydia were around, but Liam was honestly too intimidated by either of them to approach them without someone else around. Mason would no doubt be with Corey, and Liam would rather be alone forever than see those two engage in any more displays of affection right in front of him. That left only a small handful of people left who he could conceivably hang out with or mooch a car ride off of, none of which Liam thought he was desperate enough to contact. Yet. Letting out a deep sigh, he resigned himself to yet another day of lazing around playing video games by himself.
A hissed curse left his lips as his pants suddenly vibrated aggressively, followed by an obnoxious buzzing sound. Even on silent, his phone agitated his werewolf hearing to no end. Exiting his game mid campaign, probably to the chagrin of his online guildmates (because yes, he was just that desperate for real human contact now), Liam fished his phone out of his pocket. His eyes lit up when he saw it was Mason who was calling him. So maybe his misery was over now, maybe his best friend of a decade finally remembered he existed. Better yet, maybe Corey was out of town for the foreseeable future and Mason could spend the rest of summer hanging out with Liam like he was supposed to.
“Mason?”
“Hey man! What’s up? Just wanted to check on how camp’s going. Scott told me you made it, congrats dude! Though I’m fucking pissed I had to hear the news from Scott and not you.”
“...Camp?”
“Uh, yeah? Like the super mega intense and only-for-the-elitist-of-elite lacrossers or whatever you call yourselves camp?”
“Oh. That. About that. Yeah I’m not there.”
“What? Did I get the date wrong? It is today, isn’t it?”
Liam heard Mason on the other end of the line fumbling around with something, most likely trying to check the date. It was sweet, really, that Mason had remembered the date when Liam himself hadn’t even bothered to. And how on earth did Scott know?
“No, I- I’m not going.”
The silence on the other end was deafening, before it was broken by an almost inhuman screech.
“You WHAT!? Why? What happened? Are you hurt? Did someone kidnap you?” A pause, then, in a hushed tone, “Did Theo-”
“What? No! Why on earth would he be involved?”
“I don’t know dude, he’s been hanging around your place a lot more? Like, I see his truck around the neighborhood all the time? Maybe be careful with that, he could be plotting something. Also, remember when we needed someone to drag you to that meeting we had - he volunteered, said he was ‘in the area’. Like that’s major suspicious vibes right there. Then he didn’t even show up to the meeting, like what was that about?”
Liam would unpack and deal with all that information later. Right now he was just pissed that they were even talking about the chimera. Even when he wasn’t present he managed to weasel his way into Liam’s life, like a freeloading leech, or cockroach, or whatever pest was all the rage nowadays.
“Whatever, I don’t care! I’m not going because I don’t want to okay? That’s all there is to it Mase, leave it be. And well, if you wanted to hang out...”
“No dude, No. We’re not doing this. You’re going. Look, it’ll be good for you. Now that I know you’re not hurt... or something, please, go. I know you hate being told what to do, but trust me you’ll regret not going in a few months when Devenford once again beats your ass.”
“Mase...”
“And I think it’ll help you take your mind off...you know...”
“I don’t know-”
“Think of Brett’s face when you tell him where you were this summer! Think about it, think really hard about it, it’ll be like punching him but not actually, so you don’t get into trouble. I guarantee you’d like that.”
Liam grumbled. He did like the sound of that. Mason always, unfailingly, had a way of convincing him to do things he had previously set his mind against. Signing up for the school choir because Mason had a stupid crush who was also there, dressing up in ridiculous animal themed costumes every weekend to entertain Mason’s younger cousins, agreeing to fake date for a summer to get Mason’s meddling aunt out of his way – that didn’t go well, and, well... writing Hayden an apology letter after punching her... that had been Mason’s idea too... not that it had helped much at all. Sucking in a deep breath, Liam Dunbar admitted defeat.
“Alright. Fine. I-I’ll go. Orientation is tonight, I think. My parent’s are out though, but if I take the bus now I can probably still make it.”
“I can drive you!”
“I-it’s ok, it’s a super long drive, I’ll be fine. Thanks Mase, really. Just. It’s fine.”
“If you’re sure... look, I know we haven’t hung out in a bit, but – when you get back, let’s go do something, just the two of us yeah?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Liam tossed an assortment of clothes he randomly grabbed from his closet into an old checkered suitcase. Pausing, he tapped his chin thoughtfully and stared. He was definitely missing something. People didn’t just pack clothes, there was usually some other stuff. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He ducked into the bathroom and grabbed several rolls of toilet paper, squishing them haphazardly among the piles of unfolded clothes. He smiled. There, that should be everything.
He stuffed his phone and charger into his pant pocket, and scribbled a quick explanation to his parents on a sticky note he then stuck on the fridge. Taking in a deep breath, he left his house and hoped he wasn’t making a gigantic mistake.
The sky was clear, and the sunshine felt nice and warm against his skin. In the horizon, some storm clouds loomed, but Liam didn’t worry much about them. No bad weather could even come close to the weather he’d endured with the Riders of the Storm. Thankfully, the bus stop was only a few minutes walk from his house, and checking his phone, he was pretty sure it would take him directly to the camp, and he wouldn’t have to worry about transfers. Thank god for small mercies.
Liam had almost forgotten the monotony of public transit. The rhythmic bumps of the road, the hiss of air as the bus stopped and started, the mechanical voice of repeated announcements, a cough here and there, and the general soulless expressions of almost every single passenger on board. Liam felt like he was being sucked into a vortex of apathy, sinking slowly into his dubiously stained and scratchy seat. He had 4 more hours of this to endure, and was beginning to realize he should have packed something other than clothes and toilet paper. Maybe he should have brought that book on Achilles Mason had gifted to him last year. He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. Well, it was as good a time as any to catch up on some sleep.
Oak. Jasmine. Saffron.
Liam’s eyes snapped open at the very familiar scent that had just gotten onto the bus and was now heading his way. He barely had time to scramble into a presentable position before he found himself looking up (and honestly when wasn’t he -) at Brett Talbot, who was staring back at him in mild disbelief, a small and amused smile slowly gracing his features.
Shit. He hadn’t had an exit plan for this scenario.
Liam stared at Brett dumbly, and for a moment neither moved or spoke. Then the bus started again, and Brett flopped down onto the seat next to him, stretching his obnoxiously long legs and getting all up in Liam’s personal space.
“Dude, can you not?” Liam groaned as Brett proceeded to stretch his arms, further encroaching into his already limited space. He glanced around at the bus. It was almost empty. Brett could have sat anywhere, but of course he chose the seat right next to him.
“Not what? You’re gonna have to be more specific, Liam.”
“Not get up all in my space! Have some decency, you’re like 10 feet tall!”
“Sure.” Brett however, made absolutely no attempt at moving. If anything, he leaned closer, gazing at Liam with his trademark grin.
“Why are you even here?”
“Same reason you are, lacrosse camp.”
“How do you even know that?”
“Because I’m not an idiot, Liam. There is no other conceivable reason you’d be on this bus, on this day, at this time. Plus, I know you applied, and you’re not half bad.”
“Thanks, but now I’m thinking this camp isn’t really as great as it’s advertised to be, since you made it as well.”
Instead of snapping back, Brett threw his head back and cackled like a hyena, before turning towards Liam with a wild grin on his face, eyes crinkling softly at the edges like they always did when he smiled genuinely. Liam grinned back, shocking even himself. There was something about Brett’s laugh that was always so infectious, no matter how annoying it sounded.
“All right then Frodo, we’ll see if you’re saying that when we once again beat your ass next year. Ever get tired of losing? Or, maybe you just enjoy being the underdog?”
Liam grimaced at the nickname, but after a short fight with his inner demons, ultimately let it go. He didn’t have the energy to fight with Brett for the rest of the bus ride, let alone the entirety of the next week if they were both indeed headed to the same place. A small part of him was disappointed he wouldn’t be able to verbally punch Brett in the face anymore like Mason had suggested, but a bigger part of him was relieved to have a familiar face with him, especially a fellow werewolf in case things went... south. He hoped they could room together. And that thought alone scared the shit out of him.
“You could maybe try thinking less, if it’s so hard for you.”
Realizing that his resting bitch face had manifested into a scrunched up, constipated mess while he had been deep in thought, Liam immediately schooled his expression back to passively neutral before aiming a pointed glare in Brett’s direction. Strangely, he wasn’t all that mad at the remark. The banter felt familiar, friendly even, and he honestly didn’t remember when the last time he and Brett had had such a long conversation. To his horror, he realized he missed it. Things had been weird and awkward between them ever since the locker room pep talk Brett had given him back when Liam was still being haunted by Berserkers. It was like Brett was trying to make amends, in a weirdly stilted, half-assed way. A few months ago Liam would have scoffed at the sheer notion of that, he had thought their friendship was way beyond repair. But maybe there was some small piece that could be salvaged... He opened his mouth to -
“Here. Cookie.” A cookie was stuffed unceremoniously into his half open mouth, and Liam had 2 choices. He could spit it out and make a scene or eat it and then consider if he should make a scene or not. His traitorous stomach rumbled, making the decision for him. Brett laughed again, flicking Liam in the forehead too while he was at it.
Liam endured.
“They’re girl scout cookies. Lori. They’re good right?”
“And why was one just stuffed into my mouth?” Liam grumbled between chews. Good didn’t begin to describe the heaven that was the cookie he just ate. It was mind-blowingly delectable. He was pretty sure some sort of addictive substance had to be baked into that innocent flower-shaped facade.
"A nice little cookie for a good boy! You didn’t lose your shit at me, that’s an improvement from last year.”
“Watch how you talk to me Brett, I may reconsider.”
“You won’t. I saw what you did Liam, you held back. You never did before. Whatever Scott has you doing, it’s working. Which is... nice.”
Decidedly ignoring most of Brett’s heartfelt statement, Liam instead eyed the box of cookies poking out from the other boy’s backpack ravenously. He blinked rapidly a few times to wet his eyes, before opening them wide and gazing up at Brett with his best impression of a kicked puppy.
“Can I have one more?”
“Nice try. No.” A flick to Liam’s nose. Seriously, what was up with this guy and flicking him? “However -” Brett continued as Liam, wolf taking over now, bunted his head against the other’s arm in a desperate attempt to reach the box with his teeth, “- good boys get cookies. So do good things Liam, and then maybe we can talk.” A brief struggle ensued, which mainly involved Brett pushing Liam’s head back with an elbow while cradling his backpack protectively.
“Fine.” Liam muttered after his head cleared up and he wrestled back some semblance of control and dignity. He leaned back, crossed his arms and pouted. Brett chuckled at the childish response, but thankfully didn’t comment on it. He did however, scooch a little closer to Liam until their
thighs pressed together. A familiar sort of warmth spread through Liam’s body as his wolf settled, sleepy and content. Huh. It must be a werewolf thing.
He was running through the woods on all fours, towards a gigantic stack of cookies piled up higher than the redwoods all around him. He was so close... so, so close he could smell the buttery scent, almost feel the soft crumbly texture between his teeth – and oh, boy, he had a row of fangs now and – when did he learn to full shift? No matter, wolf or human, he would be sure to chow down heartily on those heavenly cookies until his stomach burst. He was a good boy. He was the best boy. He deserved these cookies, and no one, absolutely no one -
“-Iam! Liam! LIAM! Wake the fuck up, jesus are you even alive!?”
The ground beneath his feet- paws? Started to shake, and he struggled to stay upright as a massive earthquake split the earth, and no – no - NO - he had been so close, so CLOSE!
Liam groaned and opened his eyes reluctantly, finding Brett shaking him roughly, a concerned look on the latter’s face at the lack of response he was getting. Liam pursed his lips and glared at the offending werewolf menacingly. That stopped working as soon as he felt wetness at the corner of his mouth, and quickly lifted his arm to wipe the drool off his face. Brett’s look of concern morphed back into an easy smile, amusement once again sparkling in his eyes. Dammit all.
“Well hello there sleeping beauty, good – afternoon. So, news. We need to get off the bus.”
Brett gestured outside, and Liam startled. When had it started raining? Why was the sky suddenly so dark? Was that thunder? Was the wild hunt back? No no no – Liam felt his throat constrict as he thought of the infinite number of things that could go wrong – Scott wasn’t even here! And they were 2 hours away from Beacon hills, did he need to run back? Warn everyone? What about his parents? Mason?
“Calm down, it’s just a regular old storm, it’ll pass. Unfortunately, the road’s blocked. It’ll take hours for it to get cleared. Hours we don’t have if we want to make it to Sacramento on time. The driver’s kicking us all out.”
And sure enough, the two teenagers were unceremoniously ejected from the bus and out into the rain. Liam looked around. Fuck. This was bad, they were in the middle of nowhere, and the few other passengers on the bus have long since left, seemingly familiar with their next steps. He looked at Brett, who hadn’t left, which was... something, at least. The taller boy was fishing for something inside his backpack, finally pulling out a raincoat. Liam thought about the clothes he had dumped into his suitcase, which consisted solely of t-shirts. Fuck. He was so not prepared for any of this. And, as if to mock him more, the rain intensified, drenching him from had to toe with bucket loads of heaven’s piss water.
Something was tossed his way, and despite his mind being elsewhere and addled with worry, his werewolf reflexes, dependable as always, caught the object. It was a raincoat. He quickly shrugged it on before he could get any wetter, grateful that Brett had packed an extra. That gratefulness however, was very short-lived when he noticed exactly what he was now wearing. Printed on the front of the dark green jacket, obnoxiously large and proud, was the Devenford Prep crest. Liam whipped his head up so fast it almost snapped his neck. He levelled a murderous glare at Brett for what seemed like the 20th time that day, eyes flaring. It did nothing, as usual. Brett, completely unfazed, had the biggest, smuggest grin on his face as he gave Liam an appreciative once over.
“Well well well, aren’t you a sight in green.”
“You planned this.”
“Do you want the jacket or not Liam?”
“Let me switch with you at least. Why do I get stuck with the stupid prep school jacket?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, tough luck dude. And watch it, it was once your school, too.”
Liam lunged at Brett, aiming to knock them both over and forcefully switch their jackets while he had Brett pinned down. It had worked perfectly in his head. What did end up happening was a very angry Liam leaping right into Brett’s arms, desperately clawing at the collar of his jacket as the taller boy held him while holding back peals of laughter. It was a ridiculous sight, which thankfully no one was present to witness and which Liam would deny ever having happened till his final breath.
“So, what now?” Liam grumbled, pulling the hood of his stupid green Devenford jacket tighter over his head. He glowered at the blocked road in front of him and cursed the rain still pelting down on him with a vengeance.
“We could make it on foot, if we go now.”
“Are you out of your mind? We’ll never make it!”
“Do you even know you’re a werewolf Liam? It’ll take us longer but we’ll make it before night time if we run past the storm and hitchhike the rest of the way.”
“Okay fine, even if we can run fast enough, I have no idea how to get anywhere, do you even know which way we need to run?”
“We can follow the road.”
“And have everyone see us wolfed out?”
“Follow the road, but through the forest, dumbass.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea, maybe we should just wait.”
“Alright Dunbar, suit yourself. I’ll see you at camp then.” Brett gave him a sarcastic salute and started walking towards the forest. Asshole. Liam was suddenly gripped with a fear he knew all too well, of being left alone. Of being left behind. He nervously fidgeted with the oversized sleeves of his jacket as he watched Brett’s figure grow smaller and smaller, fighting with himself on whether to run after the other boy like a helpless loser or to stay in the rain alone, pride intact.
As Brett reached the very edge of the forest, he stopped and turned around.
The two boys stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, neither wanting to be the first to look away. Then, almost imperceptibly, Brett tilted his head towards the forest, still holding eye contact, and Liam gave up fighting. With a loud sigh, he rushed towards the taller boy, dragging his suitcase behind him. He tried not to pay any mind to Brett’s victorious grin as he watched Liam trudge towards him through the rain.