BEGINNINGS

It wasn't like Clifford didn't have other friends. He did; there were other kids at school that he talked to, but it wasn't the same as hanging out with Ricky. Everybody had sort of gotten used to the fact that he and Ricky went together, and any time he showed up without Ricky in tow people always asked where he was. So Clifford didn't bother to see what his other friends were doing on Saturday, because he knew he'd just have to answer a bunch of questions about why Ricky wasn't with him.

After a few hours of moping around the hotel by himself he was starting to regret his decision to stay in, though, because every time he ran into one of the staff they all asked the same question he'd been hoping to avoid from his friends. He'd heard the words 'Hey, Cliff. Where's Linderman?' or 'Ricky's not sick, is he?' so many times that he wanted to scream. Even his own grandmother, upon finding him staring morosely at the fire escape leading up to their patio, had asked him about Ricky.

"What's the matter, Cliffy? You look like your best friend just died," she said, shivering slightly in the late autumn air as she sat down across from him at the patio table.

"Nothing," Clifford lied, although he couldn't quite hide a wince at her choice of words. "Just bored."

"Well it's no wonder, moping around here by yourself all day. Where's Linderman? Usually you two are out terrorizing the city on the bike of his by now."

Clifford forced a weak smile so his grandmother wouldn't see him wince at the mention of Ricky. His insides hurt in a way he'd never felt before, and even though he knew why he wasn't sure he could explain it to her. "Ricky's busy this weekend."

"Come on, he can't be too busy to come around for a few hours. Call him up, invite him to dinner." She smiled encouragingly when he looked over at her, her eyes flashing with an expression he'd never really been able to decipher. Sometimes he wondered if she knew more than she let on, but there were other times when he was just as convinced as everyone else that she was just a crazy old lady.

"He won't come. He's probably not gonna be around much anymore."

"Not around? What're you talking about, Cliffy? You two are thick as thieves," she said, surprise and something else evident in her voice.

He shook his head miserably and gave up trying to act like he was okay with the fact that Ricky wasn't around; his grandmother wasn't going to fall for it anyway, not when he'd spent nearly every free minute he had for the past couple months with Ricky. "I did something…something stupid. And now he's mad at me. I don't think he's gonna get over it any time soon."

For a minute his grandmother just looked at him like she could look right into his mind and read what he wasn't telling her. And maybe she could, because a second later she shook her head and wagged an accusing finger at him. "You don't give up so easily, Cliffy. You're a Peache, and we Peaches don't just give up when the going gets tough. What you've gotta do is make him listen to you. Whatever it is you fought about, he'll get over it. He's a smart boy, that Linderman. Just give him a little time."

Clifford stared back at his grandmother for a long time, trying to decide exactly how much she knew about Ricky's past. He'd never told her anything, so unless she'd overheard them talking about it…but they never really talked about his brother or any of the stuff that led up to their friendship. He'd always assumed that if Ricky wanted to talk about it he'd bring it up, so he let it be and focused on keeping Ricky's mind off of it as much as possible. That was what being a good friend was all about – at least he assumed it was.

"What if…" He paused and looked down at his hands, trying to decide how to ask for advice without actually telling her what happened. There was no way he could just come right out and tell her exactly how he'd made Ricky mad enough to stop talking to him; even if he wanted her to know that he'd kissed his best friend, he was pretty sure Ricky didn't want him advertising what had happened.

Before he could find the words to ask her if he'd ruined things completely she reached over and patted his hand. "Don't worry about it, he'll come around. Why don't you go take that bike of yours out and get some fresh air or something. You used to ride that thing all the time."

It was true; when they'd first moved into the hotel he hadn't had much to do besides ride his bike around the city, but since he'd started hanging out with Ricky he'd barely touched it. Going for a bike ride beat hanging around on the patio willing Ricky to appear miraculously at the top of the fire escape, anyway. He knew better than to think Ricky was just going to show up out of nowhere the way he'd done the night he told Clifford about his brother, but it was hard not to hope while he was hanging around the hotel. At least if he went out for awhile he had a chance of getting his mind off it.

"Yeah, maybe I will. Thanks, Gramma." He managed a more genuine smile this time, standing up to follow her back into their suite.

"Don't mention it, kiddo. And don't worry about Linderman, I have a feeling he'll come around sooner than you think." She smiled and for a second he had that eerie feeling again that she knew more than she was letting on, then she turned away and it was gone. "Gotta run, I've got my eye on a guy down in the bar. Looks like a real pistol."

A second later she was gone, leaving him to shake his head at the spot where she'd been standing. The strange thing was that he felt better than he had since Friday afternoon when he'd stood on the landing at school and watched Ricky walk away from him. He had no idea how she did it, but somehow his grandmother always found the right words to make him feel like everything would work itself out in the end. He took a deep breath and headed for his room to grab his jacket, then he let himself out of the suite and headed down to the lobby.

Fifteen minutes later he was sailing in and out of traffic on his way downtown. He didn't have any real destination in mind; his only aim, in fact, was to steer clear of the park and the neighborhood surrounding school so he wouldn't run into Moody or anybody else from class. He still didn't feel like having to explain why Ricky wasn't with him, partly because he had no idea what to say and partly because he didn't want to think about the real reason he was alone.

He didn't mean to end up in the part of town even the cops were scared to go into; he hadn't been consciously thinking about going anywhere near Ricky's house. When he realized where he was it was too late to tell himself that he'd ended up there by accident, though, because even if he hadn't been thinking about it he knew exactly why he found himself stopped in front of the garage where Ricky kept his bike. He'd tried everything he could think of to get Ricky out of his head, but none of it had worked. That much was obvious considering where he found himself standing, and part of him couldn't help thinking that since he was already there, he might as well go inside and see if Ricky was around.

As soon as he caught himself thinking it he shook his head and turned around, telling himself he was going home before he did something else he'd regret. The scene at school on Friday had been bad enough, and he didn't want to think about Ricky's reaction if he found out that Clifford was following him around again. Begging Ricky to be his bodyguard was one thing, but there was a lot more at stake this time. He turned his bike around just as the door to the garage opened, and he flinched and glanced back over his shoulder. His heart sank a little when he saw that it wasn't Ricky coming out of the garage, but an older guy Clifford had seen a few times when he'd been there with Ricky.

"You looking for somebody, kid?"

"No," Clifford answered quickly, praying the guy wouldn’t recognize him. "No, I was just passing by."

"I know you," the man said, recognition making his eyes light up and Clifford's heart sink even further into his stomach. "You're that kid that hangs out with Linderman, aren't you?"

Clifford opened his mouth to say no, to make up some lie about the guy mistaking him for somebody else, but before he got the words out the older man was leaning back into the garage. "Hey, Linderman, this belong to you?"

~

Ricky looked up at the sound of his name, frowning at the too-bright daylight pouring in through the front door of the garage. He couldn't see what was going on from the dim light of the garage itself, so he set down the wrench in his hand and made his way toward the door. He had to blink against the light a few times before his eyes adjusted enough to see, but when the person before him finally came into focus his heart skipped a beat. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He didn't mean to sound so angry; he never meant to sound as angry as he did, mainly because the anger that sometimes flooded his senses made him think of things that he never wanted to remember. Controlling his reactions to Clifford was sometimes as hard as stemming the tide of his memories, though, and he could tell by the other boy's expression that Clifford knew how surprised Ricky was to see him.

"I don't know," Clifford answered, shrugging helplessly. He looked so young with one leg still propped on the pedal of his old ten-speed, but his jaw was set in a defiant line that Ricky knew all too well. "I just went for a ride and I ended up here. I wasn't gonna come in…that guy recognized me, I guess."

It should bother him that people in his neighborhood were starting to recognize Clifford. It did bother him – this was exactly the reason spending any more time together was a bad idea, especially now that he knew Clifford wanted something Ricky couldn't give him. An irrational surge of want flooded him at the memory of their one and only kiss, but he did his best to shake it off before he answered. "Look, Cliff, you can't be here. It's a bad idea, okay?"

"Why? I've been here plenty of times before and you never thought it was a bad idea. What's so different about now?"

Clifford was just daring him to say it, he could see it in the set of the smaller boy's expression. Maybe he really hadn't planned to end up outside the garage, but now that he was here he wasn't about to let Ricky get away with dodging the subject again. Not without a fight, anyway, and there was no telling what Clifford would say if he thought it would make his point.

Ricky glanced around warily, making sure nobody was lingering to overhear their conversation. Thankfully most of the people in his neighborhood had better things to do than eavesdrop on a couple teenagers, but just to be safe Ricky gave Clifford a meaningful look and nodded in the direction of the alley that ran alongside the garage. For once Clifford didn't argue with him, and Ricky breathed a tiny sigh of relief when they were surrounded on two sides by cool brick. He paused long enough to fish his cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one and exhaling slowly before he looked at Clifford again.

"You know why," he finally answered, watching Clifford's face carefully as he spoke. "It's nothing personal, Cliff. It just won't work."

He'd definitely expected Clifford to argue with that, so he was surprised when the other boy nodded. "I know that," Clifford said. "But that doesn't mean we can't still hang out, right?"

He ignored the small pang of disappointment and told himself that he was glad Clifford was finally starting to see reason. This was exactly what he'd wanted all along, ever since Clifford had first come up with the crazy idea for them to date in the first place. It just couldn't work and they both knew it, so there was no reason to pretend it could.

"Look, Cliff, I mean it…"

"I get it," Clifford interrupted, some of the spark Ricky had gotten so used to creeping back into his eyes. "I told you, all I wanted was for you to think about it. You thought about it and you're not interested. So we can just forget it and go back to the way things were."

Ricky had a feeling it wouldn't be anywhere near as easy as Clifford made it sound, but it had been a long two days without his best friend and he was willing to risk it. Anything would be better than spending the rest of high school avoiding Clifford when he had to see the other boy almost every day.

"Yeah, alright," he heard himself answer, every reason he'd come up with for giving up their friendship flying right out of his mind as soon as Clifford grinned at him. He had a sinking feeling he was going to regret agreeing to be friends again, but he couldn't deny that making up with Clifford lifted a weight off his chest that had been making it hard to breathe.

For a long moment they just stood there staring at each other; Ricky wasn't sure how long they stood in silence, but when the cigarette he'd been smoking began to burn his skin he flinched and broke the stare. He muttered a curse under his breath and dropped it, crushing out the butt with the heel of his shoe before he looked up in time to catch Clifford grinning. "Real funny," he said, but he couldn't quite work up the dangerous tone he was going for.

"Are you okay?" Clifford asked, trying and failing to wipe the smile off his face.

"I'm fine," Ricky growled, thankful that he was probably too covered in grease for Clifford to see him blush. He pushed himself off the brick he'd been leaning against and headed out of the alley, Clifford on his heels.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Clifford asked as they got closer to the garage entrance. "I thought you were done fixing your bike."

"Working on a new one," Ricky answered, smiling at the look of surprise on the smaller boy's face. "The guy that owns this place thinks he can sell it, make us both a little cash."

"Yeah? That's great," Clifford said, flashing the most genuine grin Ricky had seen from him in days. As quickly as his smile appeared it was gone, though, and a moment later Clifford was frowning suspiciously at him. "Wait a second. You're not planning to drop out and go into business building motorcycles or something, are you?"

Ricky was tempted to laugh, but something about Clifford's expression told him that the other boy was serious. "Why would you think that?"

"Because of yesterday," Clifford answered, rolling his eyes when Ricky met his gaze with a blank expression. "The test on Monday, remember? You didn't seem very worried about studying for it, and I know you haven't got all that stuff down."

"Cliff, come on, it's just a stupid test," Ricky said, not bothering to check his laugh this time. It was just like Clifford to jump from Ricky blowing off a little homework to Ricky dropping out of school altogether. Not that he hadn't considered it before, but he'd never had a reason to stay until now.

As soon as the thought occurred to him he paused, frowning down at the ground in front of him. When had he started thinking of Clifford as a reason to go to school every day? And what did that mean, anyway? Clifford was just a friend, they'd ironed all that out and everything was back to normal now. They could go back to hanging out and Clifford wouldn't expect too much from him, which meant there was no real chance of Ricky letting him down. That was exactly the way he wanted it; he didn't want to need Clifford, at least not as a reason to get up and go to school in the morning.

"…could come over later…hey. You okay?"

Too late he realized Clifford had been talking to him, so he shook his head to clear away the unsettling thought and forced himself to focus on the other boy. "What?"

"I said you could come over if you want and we can study for the test. Since you didn't bring your book home. You can come for dinner."

It was obvious that Clifford was wondering what was wrong with him, but he didn’t press for an explanation and Ricky was grateful not to have to think up a lie. Instead he just nodded and did his best to forget about why he needed Clifford around as much as he did. "Yeah, sure. I gotta go home and wash up first, though," he answered, looking down at his grease-covered hands and the smudges on his clothes.

"I can come with you if you want," Clifford offered, and he looked so hopeful that for a second Ricky was tempted to say yes. The thought of Clifford in his house, though…he'd never even considered bringing the other boy there, especially not after he saw how Clifford lived.

"Nah, it'll take awhile," he said, ignoring the disappointment that flickered in the other boy's eyes. "Besides, I can't carry your bike on my motorcycle."

It took Clifford a second to shake off his crestfallen expression, but as soon as he did he nodded and grinned at Ricky again. "I guess you're right. So I'll see you in a little while?"

Ricky nodded and watched as Clifford picked up the bike he'd left leaning against the building and swung one leg over the frame. "Yeah. See you later."

He stood in front of the garage and watched while Clifford rode away, waving once when the other boy looked over his shoulder. Finally Clifford reached the corner and turned, disappearing out of Ricky's line of sight. He stood there for a long time after Clifford was gone, his heart beating a little faster than normal as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. The entire night before had been spent telling himself all the reasons he and Clifford couldn't be friends anymore, and all it had taken was one word from the other boy and he'd caved. All Clifford had to do was ask one simple question: Why?

There were a million answers to that question, every one pointing to the fact that he and Clifford didn't make any sense. It had hardly taken him any time at all to give in, though, because when it came right down to it he wanted Clifford around. He liked Clifford for reasons he couldn't even begin to put into words, and he was as scared of losing what they had as he was of finding out if they could have more.

 

 

Tricks of Radiance