John 8:32

11 - Psalm 27:10

Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me.

Monday morning. AP Biology.

Spencer was half-asleep at his desk — and something was wrong. He couldn't figure out what.

He realized what it was when Ms. Okazaki was taking attendance. There was a certain person missing from a desk in front of him. Damien wasn't there.

He never skipped. Especially not first period.

Actually, Damien would often just go to first period when he was feeling shitty, then skip the rest of the day. He said he could catch up on all his other classes easy — AP Bio was hard.

That was concerning.

Damien seemed fine yesterday. No different than usual.

First period always dragged by — there was no escaping it. Today, it was worse than ever.

Spencer couldn't shake that feeling of worry. It was so uncharacteristic of Damien to just skip like this.

They were doing a lab that day — Spencer let Gabriel and Marissa do most of the work. He was more concerned with studying the clock in the wall than what was under the microscope. He was pretty sure they were onion skins. It smelled like it.

Spencer was out the door before the bell even finished ringing.

He had other classes, but he headed straight to the dorms. Damien's room, to be specific.

The metal of the nameplate was cold on Spencer's knuckles as he knocked on the door. The school always turned on the air conditioning way too early. It was only April — temperatures still easily dipped below the forties.

"Who is it?"

That was definitely Damien's voice, at least,

"It's me," Spencer called through the door, only realizing how pointless that was after he said it.

"Come in, door's unlocked."

Spencer pushed the door open — met with the sight of Damien's room, dimly lit only by the light that escaped through the cracks in the blinds. He almost didn't see Damien — buried under a pile of blankets in bed. After all, air conditioning.

"You weren't in class," Spencer shut the door behind himself, slipping off his shoes before stepping on the rug.

"I know," Damien hummed, hardly looking up from his phone, "I skipped."

"How the hell did you manage to do that? Nurse Rose sees through everything."

"Went to her office right after i blow dried my hair," Damien shut off his phone and set it down, wrapping his arms tighter around the ragged stuffed rabbit in his arms. Spencer had never seen it before, "It gave me the perfect fever."

"You're the first person I've heard of who actually got that to work," Spencer laughed, sitting down on the edge of Damien's bed.

"What can I say, I'm a genius," Damien flashed a half-hearted smile, bringing Spencer back to why he was here.

"Are you okay? Why'd you skip class?"

Damien's face fell.

"My birthday was yesterday."

Now Spencer was thoroughly confused.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

He hoped that he didn't sound insensitive.

"It was," Damien sighed heavily, deflating further into his blankets, "My sister and I went out. We got lunch and went shopping."

"That sounds good."

Damien didn't say anything for a long moment — picking his phone back up for a moment only to place it back down on the sheets. He sat up, bringing his knees close to his chest.

"They didn't even text me, Spence."

It didn't take much of a brain to figure out that Damien was talking about his parents. The Yates family were the church's biggest donors. They were constantly donating money and running mission trips. There was a reason Damien was at boarding school. His parents were never fucking home.

"No text, no call," Damien continued, "They're too busy over in Africa or wherever it is this time to even give a single shit about me."

"Oh," Spencer didn't even know what to say. His dad may have been a dick sometimes, sure, but he was never absent like that, "I'm so sorry, Damien."

Damien paused for a moment. He looked at Spencer like he said something. Spencer was pretty sure he hadn't said anything of significance.

"You called me Damien," he finally breathed.

"I mean— that's your name?" Spencer didn't quite get it.

"You never call me Damien."

Right. Spencer didn't ever actually call Damien by his name. It was always Yates, or some string of insults.

"Shut up," was all he could muster. He could feel his face reddening.

"Nope, I'm all good," Damien laughed, wrapping his arms around Spencer with a contented hum, enveloping them both in the blankets.

"I hate you," Spencer groaned, letting himself fall back into Damien's chest. He really did hate the stupid bastard. All... caring. And pitiful and whatever.

"I'm sure you do," Damien hummed, pressing a kiss to the top of Spencer's head.

Spencer tried not to let the exhaustion overcome him, but warm like this? He had to let his eyes fall shut for just a moment. He'd deal with whatever happened later.