Deputy Wes Ashford moved to Riverdale and joined the force back when Kevin was starting the seventh grade. When his father introduced the two of them at the Lopez family's annual back-to-school barbecue, it was all Kevin could do to stammer out a hello.

"It's nice to meet you, Kevin," Wes said with a smile that suited his attractive young face. "Your dad talks about you so much that I feel like I know you already."

Tall, dark, and handsome with broad-shoulders and a square jaw, Wes looked like he could be on the cover of one of those romance novels Polly Cooper hoarded despite being explicitly forbidden from reading them by her mother. It was hard for Kevin to imagine that it would be anything close to nice for Wes to meet him, a graceless and overweight twelve-year-old riddled with acne.

"Hi," Kevin managed, taking the calloused hand offered to him. He could feel his face heating just by being in the man's presence.

He was relieved when another deputy came by to chat with Wes, sparing him from further conversation. Slipping away, he found himself a quiet spot to sit and shiver at the memory of Wes's rough hand, wondering what it would feel like to have it touching him all over his skin.

The next chance he had, he told his best friend Betty about the good-looking young deputy. They were sitting in the Cooper kitchen, ostensibly doing their homework, but really just taking the opportunity to talk privately as Mrs. Cooper went on a tirade against Mayor McCoy over the phone.

"He's the cutest guy I've ever seen," Kevin said lowly, his face flushing as he spoke. "Just, like, wow, you know?"

Betty giggled nervously. "Kevin, he's old!"

"He's not that old!" Kevin protested. "I bet he's still in his twenties. It's not like he's forty. And he's really, really good-looking."

"My mom says there's no worse way for a girl to get in trouble than by going out with an older guy," Betty said sagely. "So don't rush into anything just yet."

"Sheesh, Betty, it's not like I'm not going to marry him!" Kevin hissed. "I just think he's cute."

Though he thought his crush on Wes would fade, it didn't. Every time Kevin saw him, be it any day at the station or at a special event like a holiday party, his heart leapt, his face grew warm, and he could barely focus on what he was saying. By the time ninth grade ended, Kevin still couldn't get a grip on himself when around him, and resolved never to try speaking with Wes in fear of convincing him even further than he was a colossal freak.

Never would he have ever considered that Wes might notice him.

It was early evening in the first week of June, and school had let out for the summer earlier that day. While it wasn't especially hot, Kevin had waited until evening to take his daily run. Now he had finished and was at the sheriff's station to drop off the dinner he'd cooked for his father, who was working late.

"Braised beef with mashed potatoes and glazed carrots," Kevin said proudly, presenting his father with the tupperware container.

His father chuckled and ruffled his hair fondly. "Thanks, kiddo. It was very thoughtful of you to bring this by."

After taking a few minutes to catch up and talk about how their days had gone, Kevin exchanged goodbyes with him. He was on his way out when he rounded the corner and quite literally bumped into Wes.

"Jesus God!" Wes exclaimed as Kevin crashed into him and then immediately stumbled back.

Instantly, Wes reached out a hand to steady him, grabbing him tightly by the upper arm.

"I'm so sorry," Kevin rushed to apologize, feeling his face flame. Typical. The best-looking deputy there was, and Kevin had to make a fool out of himself in front of him. "I should be more careful."

"It's all right," Wes said easily, still holding Kevin's arm. He looked him and up and down appraisingly and then gave his bicep a squeeze. "Wow. That's some nice muscle you've been building there."

"Th-thanks," Kevin stammered out, taken aback but excited at the compliment. Maybe his excitement was pathetic, but he couldn't so much as get a date, let alone a boyfriend. Knowing that someone, especially someone as handsome as Wes, was not only checking him out, but liking what he saw? He couldn't help but be thrilled.

"You know, I always forget how much you grew up this past year," Wes continued. "I still remember you as a chubby middle school kid."

Kevin laughed awkwardly, trying to cover his embarrassment. He'd worked hard to change his routine and made himself look better, putting in long hours at the gym and giving up any type of junk food. He hated to be reminded of how painfully unattractive he'd been back in the seventh and eighth grade.

"I guess it makes sense," he replied, trying to steer the conversation in a more tactful direction. "I mean, that's when we met, right? It's hard to believe that you've been in Riverdale for two years now."

"Hard to be believe because it's only been two years, but he's already vying for my job," Gloria Lopez, Chief Deputy, quipped as she walked up to join them, handing several pages of paper to Wes. "But I guess I'm safe as long as you forget your paperwork as often as you do." She gave Kevin a warm smile. "Hey, Kev. It's good to see you."

Wes extended his hand to take the papers, letting go of Kevin's arm for the first time, and Kevin would have been lying if he didn't feel a slight pang of sadness at the loss of contact. Having Wes compliment him and touch him, even if he was only being friendly and didn't really mean anything by it, sent a charge zipping through him. But he caught himself just in time to say goodbye to Gloria as she went on her way.

"So, what are you here for?" Wes asked as they continued to the exit. He elbowed Kevin playfully. "Did your old man haul you down here to chew you out?"

"Just bringing him some dinner," Kevin replied, doing his best to keep his voice casual. "He's working late, and I wanted to make sure he got a good meal."

He gave Wes a smile as they walked outside together, and his heart started beating about a million miles per minutes when Wes smiled at him in turn. Sunlight streamed down from the sky, intermingling with the evening shadows and playing against Wes's face, highlighting his handsome features and the hint of stubble on his jaw. Kevin had to resist the temptation to stare, carefully timing his glances to appear natural for normal conversation, but it was difficult. He really just wanted to drink in the sight of Wes, to bask in the attention he was getting from him.

"Tell you what," Wes drawled, putting an arm around Kevin's shoulders, much to Kevin's surprise and elation. "Since you're on your own for dinner tonight, why don't you come over to my place? We can make dinner together."

"You want me to come over?" Kevin asked in amazement. He could barely believe what was happening to him. His hopeless crush of years was finally paying attention to him—and even though Kevin knew it couldn't be actual attraction, it was still a nice change.

Wes shrugged. "Sure. I mean, as long as you don't have other plans."

Kevin shook his head, still overcome with disbelief. Actually, he'd been fighting the temptation to go to Pop's for a burger—since losing weight, he'd tried to give up fast food. "No. I actually was going to go home and take a shower. I mean . . ." he gestured to his sweaty T-shirt and jogging shorts for an explanation.

"No problem," Wes told him, leading him over to his car and opening the passenger door for him without missing a beat. "You can shower at my place."

The invitation caught Kevin off-guard, but he decided to play it cool. He didn't want to ruin the moment by flailing or being awkward with his refusal.

"Thanks," he said, sliding into the passenger seat. "I really appreciate it.

Wes grinned at him before shutting the door. "My pleasure."

True to his word, Wes ushered Kevin into his home, a dark blue saltbox-style house with a large and lush lawn, and then into his bedroom, a large room with furniture of gleaming dark oak.

"Anything of mine that you want is yours," he said with a smile, piling articles of clothing the wide bed. "Wear any of these clothes you like." He gave Kevin a playful nudge with his elbow. "With that new body of yours, I wouldn't mind you going around naked. But I think your dad might have it in for me if he ever found out."

Unsure how to react, Kevin let out a startled laugh at Wes's admission and then changed the subject. "Thanks for all of this."

"No problem." Wes pointed him in the direction of the master bath. "Go ahead and shower. I'll start working on dinner."

"I can help you," Kevin offered, but Wes waved him off.

"Don't worry about it. You're the guest, after all." He gave him a playful push toward the bath. "Just enjoy your shower."

The master bath was large and well-organized, all gleaming gold accents on sparkling white surfaces, and Kevin had no problems locating the necessary toiletries. Opening a bottle of body wash, he hesitated a moment before inhaling the scent, breathing in the woodsy aroma. His face heated, knowing that the pine scent was what Wes smelled like every day, clinging to his skin and hair. It felt so personal, almost like a violation, to hold that knowledge, and yet Kevin found himself taking the bottle into the shower with him.

As Kevin stepped into the large oval shower and let the hot water run down his body, soothing his sore muscles, he couldn't help but indulge in the notion, unrealistic as it was, of regularly being there in the house with Wes. Of visiting frequently, of being an expected but welcomed guest, of even living there with Wes.

Closing his eyes as he was surrounded by the warmth of the water and steam, Kevin took a moment to let his favorite fantasy play out in his head. He would be showering, just like he was now, letting the water wash over his skin. But then the curtain would rustle, and then another man would step in and join him, pulling him roughly into his arms and giving him a fierce kiss.

Usually that other person was Moose Mason, Kevin's longtime crush from school. But today, when he thought about embracing the other man, kissing him for all he was worth, feeling the heat of his body against his own, all he could think of was Wes. Wes holding him, kissing his neck, ghosting his palm over Kevin's cock, gently but firmly pushing Kevin to his knees . . .

"You know what to do," he would whisper gruffly into Kevin's ear, before putting his hands on his shoulders and pressing him down.

And Kevin would kneel before him, resting his hands on Wes's muscular thighs, the water cascading down over them both . . .

Kevin shivered at the idea. What he would give to have Wes—or anyone, really—look at him that way.

But at least, he thought as he finished with his shower and stood before the mirror to admire the physique he worked endlessly to achieve, he had a better chance of capturing someone's attention now than ever before.

After drying off, he dressed in the clothes Wes had laid out for him, again blushing at how personal it felt. Putting on Wes's jeans, his T-shirts, his boxers . . . it was strange and not something Kevin would have anticipated, but he didn't dislike it.

But Wes was just being nice, he told himself as he walked downstairs in search of the kitchen. Even still, he couldn't ignore the intimacy of it, of wandering through Wes's home as if he belonged there, wearing Wes's clothes, while Wes cooked for him. The parallels between what Wes was doing for him and what he would do for a boyfriend felt too strong, and Kevin couldn't stop his heart from leaping as he walked into the kitchen and found Wes stirring a pan at the stove.

"Smells good," Kevin complimented him, trying to act as normal as possible. Meanwhile, a rush of longing flooded through him at the sight. The scene was so domestic, so comforting, and Kevin desperately wanted to say that this was his house and his life, with Wes as his boyfriend.

"It's nothing fancy. Just a beef stir-fry." Wes cast him a smile, bringing his stomach to flutter.

Kevin felt himself flush at the compliment, and, feeling very bold, decided to issue Wes an invitation. "If you'd like me to teach you to cook, I'd happy to help. Come to my house anytime."

Wes chuckled. "That's very generous of you. But given that your dad probably wouldn't appreciate my choice of refreshment," Wes waved a hand at a bottle of Canadian Club and two full tumblers that sat on the tile counter. "I think we'd better keep the cooking lessons here."

Excitement pumped through Kevin at Wes's acceptance of his offer, overwhelming the surge of anxiety at the sight of the whiskey. His father had always been adamant about him being too young to drink anything other than a glass of wine at holiday dinners, but at the moment, Kevin was too thrilled with his good fortune to care much about legalities.

When Wes handed him one of the glasses, Kevin took it without hesitation, clinking his glass against Wes's in a toast.

"To terrific company," Kevin said as steadily as he could, his heart pounding with nervousness, desperately hoping Wes didn't think it was cheesy or lame.

"Hell, I'll drink to that," Wes declared, tossing back his four fingers' worth of whiskey in one go.

Impressed, Kevin tried to do the same but nearly spat it back out. He needed to take several swallows to force the liquor down, and when he finished, he was embarrassed to find Wes watching him in amusement.

But rather than teasing him, Wes just clapped him on the back. "You really are terrific company, Kevin." Movements smooth, he refilled both of their glasses and raised his again. "Another toast?"

One dinner and three more glasses of whiskey later, they'd retired to the leather couch in the living room, and Kevin was feeling much more confident and relaxed than earlier. Conversation flowed easily with Wes, and he found himself casting aside his worries and self-consciousness in favor of laughing with Wes and enjoying himself.

He could be the one, he thought dazedly as Wes poured him a fifth glass of whiskey and offered it to him. He could be the guy I end up with.

Again, Kevin accepted, smiling at Wes over the rim of the glass before drinking it down, and when he set his glass back down on the coffee table, it took a moment for him to process that Wes was now resting his hand on his thigh. Even then, he second guessed himself, wondering if it was just his imagination fooling him into believing something he'd desperately desired was real.

"You know, I wasn't lying when I said you'd grown up," Wes told him. "I never would have thought you would end up looking this good." He massaged Kevin's leg as he spoke, and then Kevin knew that it was real.

Though he thought he should respond, Kevin didn't know what to say, unable to distinguish if the remark was intended as a compliment or an insult. There was a brief tingling sensation by his ear, and he realized Wes was stroking the side of his face down to his neck.

"You're so gorgeous," Wes murmured, his breath hot on Kevin's ear. "If I could chain you to the bed, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

He's too close. Alarm bells were ringing vaguely in the back of Kevin's mind, and he still had enough reason to know that he should get away, but his thoughts were too sluggish to fully comprehend what exactly he needed to do. By the time he'd gathered himself enough to move, Wes had already moved one hand down to unzip Kevin's jeans, and Kevin froze again as Wes moved his hand inside Kevin's boxers to grasp his cock.

"I've been dreaming about being with you, you know," Wes continued, slowly dragging his fingers up and down Kevin's shaft. "All the things I could do to you."

Thoughts and instincts at war with one another, Kevin remained motionless where he sat on the couch, barely able to understand what was happening. Wes wanted him. And Wes was touching him in a way he'd thought would only ever happen in his dreams. And damn if it didn't feel phenomenal.

By all accounts, Kevin should have been ecstatic.

And yet anxiety swirled within him, and he could feel an ache beginning at the back of his head as faint nausea churned in his stomach. He didn't want to be with Wes, he realized. He'd never expected to actually have this opportunity, and now that he did, it was overwhelming.

Barely aware of what he was doing, he went to push Wes away, only to end up abruptly standing instead, movements shaky and uncoordinated.

"What the hell?" Wes exclaimed, scowling as he instinctively pulled his hand back. "What are you—"

"We can't." The words tumbled out of Kevin's mouth, his tongue heavy and clumsy, struggling to get the words out. With trembling fingers, he zipped his jeans and buttoned them closed. "Wes, we can't." He couldn't reason why he was rejecting Wes after wanting him for so long—it was an effort just to speak, to convince his mouth to respond to his brain's commands—but he knew he had to. It wouldn't be right for him and Wes to be together, that much he knew, even if he couldn't remember why. No matter how much either of them wanted each other, it wouldn't be right..

Wes rolled his eyes. "Would you just relax and get back down here? We're fine. And if you're too stressed, well . . ." he moved to refill Kevin's whiskey glass. "Have another drink."

"No." Kevin shook his head emphatically and instantly regretted it; the motion made him dizzy and increased his nausea. The throbbing in his head and bile rising in his throat made it even more difficult to focus. "Wes, we're . . . I can't . . . my dad. He would find out." It seemed wrong, even moronic to push Wes away after wanting him so long, and part of Kevin was screaming that he was an idiot to do so. But he also couldn't shake the sense that letting Wes continue was a very bad idea.

Wes seemed annoyed at his sudden reluctance. "Your dad isn't here. Let's just pick up where we left off, okay?"

He tried to pull Kevin back down to the couch, but Kevin resisted, trying to back away as fast as he could on his wobbly legs.

"Wes, stop." He hated that his voice was dangerously close to pleading, but he felt too weak and disoriented to keep going with Wes.

"Don't be a tease," Wes snarled at him, giving his arm a vicious yank, dragging Kevin back down to the couch.

Before Kevin knew it, Wes had shoved him on his back and climbed on top of him. Panic threatened to overwhelm him as Wes's full weight pressed down on him, rendering him immobile, but he managed to collect himself just enough to realize he still had a chance.

Being the (seemingly) lone gay kid in town had made Kevin a target, and as a result, he'd been in his fair share of fights. Back when he was in middle school, his father had taught him how to defend himself and also go on the offensive if need be.

"Now I don't want to hear anything about you starting up some sort of fight club at school," his father had warned him. "This is just for when you need to protect yourself, you hear?"

So when Wes brought his face close to Kevin's, leaning in for a kiss, Kevin smashed his forehead directly into his nose, and when Wes recoiled, swearing loudly, he rammed his knee into Wes's crotch several times, which forced him away.

"You little bitch!" Wes shouted, reaching out to swipe at him, but Kevin was already scrambling off the couch and running helter-skelter toward the front door.

The house seemed to expand and shift around him, realigning its walls and darkened halls to deliberately confuse him, and Kevin began to despair of ever getting out, especially when he heard Wes's footsteps thundering behind him. But just as he wondered if he would make it, his outstretched fingers made contact with the doorknob, and he threw the door open and sprinted headlong into the night.

The world passed around him in a blur of yellow light and shadows as he raced down the streets of the quiet suburb. Driven by the frantic urge to simply get away, Kevin didn't focus on where he was going, just running as fast as possible to leave Wes behind. He ran for a long time, his legs pumping until they burned with exhaustion, not stopping to catch his breath until he reached a small neighborhood park ensconced by thick clusters of trees. Before finally slowing to a halt, he slipped into the murky shroud created by tree branches, concealing himself there as he struggled to process all that had happened to him.

What had happened? The night had been going so well, and then . . . then Kevin had destroyed it by spazzing out, per usual. Hell, he probably could've ended up having sex with Wes and seeing his fantasy about him come true.

Still, the image of Wes pouring him tumbler after tumbler of whiskey for him drifted into Kevin's mind, and his nausea swelled again.

He would have had sex with Wes even without the liquor. Yeah, he wouldn't have been graceful, and in all likelihood, he would have been wracked with nerves, but he would have easily agreed. Wes hadn't needed to try to force him into it, though he'd probably realized getting Kevin to go through with it would be no easy feat. His aggressiveness was because of Kevin's own behavior, he rationalized. Not because of Wes himself.

Kevin had brought everything on himself. Lusting after Wes for years and then turning around and cooling off on him—Wes had probably he was playing games.

Typical you, Kevin thought wearily to himself as he got to his feet and resumed his trek back to his home. You wonder why you're single, and then when a guy is interested in you, you can't run away fast enough.

And yet as he continued forward, he was very aware that he was giving a dangerous amount of good faith to Wes and his intentions.

Leaving the park, he managed to garner enough of his surroundings to orient himself. This street along the far side of the park was familiar, somewhat busier than the quiet solitude of the suburbs, but not that busy at this time of night. Estimating he was about three miles from his house, Kevin squared his shoulders and set off toward home, trying to ignore the ache in his legs and the lightheaded sensation that was starting to overcome him. But even before he'd gone five hundred yards, his legs were shaking so violently he thought they might give out at any moment.

Just when he thought he would collapse, a car horn blared from behind him, and Kevin nearly jumped out of his skin as a forest green classic Dodge Dart Swinger pulled up to the curb. His heart pounded wildly even as he knew the car wasn't Wes's; he recognized it as belonging to someone else.

"Thought that was you," Moose Mason called good-naturedly, leaning out the driver's side window, his broad shoulders barely squeezing through. "Hey, get in, I'll give you a ride to wherever you're going."

Kevin only stood there speechlessly, not quite comprehending. After everything that had happened already, being recognized by someone, even a person he knew and liked, left him floundering, feeling as if all his defenses had been stripped away to render him exposed and vulnerable.

A frown creased Moose's forehead at Kevin's lack of response. "Hey. You all right?"

Nodding wordlessly, Kevin forced his legs to move, walking around to the passenger door, opening it, and clambering up into the car.

Moose looked at him searchingly for a few moments before pulling away from the curb, and while the more stubborn part of Kevin was tempted to hold his gaze and prove that he was all right, he was too ill and tired to do much beyond settle into his chair and fix his gaze on the dashboard. And after several seconds, Moose shrugged and steered the car back onto the street.

"I was just driving over to Reggie's place," he said after a few minutes of silence. "His parents are gone, so he's having a party. Gonna be epic."

"How nice," Kevin said woodenly, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. It wasn't until he tore the string off that he realized he was still wearing all of Wes's clothes. Fresh waves of frustration, embarrassment, and disgust rolled through him.

"You, uh, you can come with me," Moose invited him. "Only if you want, though. If you don't, I can take you someplace else."

At one point Kevin would have been delirious with happiness to go to a party with Moose, but now he was in no place for it. "Just my house is fine. You remember the address?"

"Three fifteen Great Northern Lane, right?" Moose asked. He gave Kevin a smile. "I remember from when we worked on our English project together."

Kevin looked down at his hands, as the cheerful memory replayed in his mind. It was when he had first felt drawn to Moose, impressed by his good spirit and genuine nature. But he didn't want to mar the happy times by associating with a night like tonight.

"Yeah, that's it," he forced himself to respond.

The ache in his head was increasing, leading Kevin to close his eyes and relax against the headrest in an attempt to relieve it. He didn't remember drifting off, but then Moose was shaking his shoulder gently.

"Hey, Keller, we're here," he said, keeping his voice soft.

Startling at the contact, Kevin jolted awake, instinctively throwing himself against the side of the door to escape the contact. Moose froze with his hand half-raised, alarm plain on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said, his expression confused and worried. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I just wanted to let you know that we got to your house."

Kevin glanced out the window, realizing Moose was right. The house was still dark, though. His dad was probably still at work.

"Yeah, um, thanks," he replied, his face heating as he went to unbuckle his seatbelt. At this rate, he was going convince every guy in town that he was some major fucking freak.

"I can walk you to the door," Moose offered, but Kevin stopped him.

" No. " The word emerged sharper than he intended and Moose's eyebrows rose, but Kevin was too drained to care much. "Thanks for the ride. Was nice of you." He opened the car door to leave.

"Yeah, okay." Moose ran a hand through his hair and then blurted out, "Midge and I are on a break for the summer."

Kevin paused his exit and looked at him blankly, unsure of what to do with the information.

"I just wanted to let you know," Moose hastened to add. "Just in case, you know . . ." he shrugged. "If you'd ever like to go to dinner sometime."

Of all nights. In the space of a single evening, the two guys he'd been crushing on both finally gave some sign of returning his feelings—but one admission had already gone spectacularly wrong.

It was too big of a risk to give another try.

"Good night, Moose," Kevin said, managing to prevent his voice from being unkind. "Thank you again."

He could barely walk in a straight line up the front walkway, but he was too conscious of Moose's gaze on his back to not at least try. Somehow, he staggered to the porch, fished the spare key out of its hiding place beneath the blue flower pot, and let himself into the house. The whole time, he was very aware that Moose was parked there, watching him, and he didn't drive away until Kevin made it through the front door.

Once inside, Kevin flicked on the lights and then collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, his mind reeling. It was a comfort be home, back in the house where he'd grown up. Settling into his chair, he took several deep, steadying breaths, trying to remind himself that he was at a place that was familiar, where he was safe. Folding his arms, he rested his head on top of them as he would a pillow, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep.

But the shrill ring of the landline phone his father insisted on keeping disrupted any hope of rest. Kevin reluctantly hauled himself out of his chair and grabbed the receiver from its cradle without checking the number, leaning against the counter as he answered.

"Hello, you've reached the Keller residence, Kevin speaking," he recited, the greeting so standard that he even remembered it despite his overwhelming distress.

"Glad you made it home."

It was Wes's voice. Kevin's stomach dropped, and icy fear began coursing through his veins even as he told himself that he had nothing to be afraid of.

It was your own damn fault, he reminded himself forcefully. You led him on and then turned around and rejected him.

The thought was not heartening in the slightest.

"Wes," he rasped, his voice nearly gone. "What do you want?"

There was a clink of glass from over the phone, and then Kevin heard Wes swallow; he was still drinking. But when he spoke, he sounded fairly sober.

"I just wanted to make sure you know to keep tonight's events between the two of us," Wes said casually. "Wouldn't want anything that happened to be misinterpreted, 'specially not by your father."

Kevin started shaking, and he grasped the phone tightly in an attempt to steady himself. Even if he blamed himself, he wasn't going to let someone else push him around. "I really don't think there's any 'misinterpreting' what you did, Wes."

"Oh, no?" Wes asked silkily. "You came to my house and showered there. You got drunk. Hell, I'd bet anything that at this very moment, you're still wearing the clothes I gave you."

The air all but left Kevin's lungs at the reminder, and he folded one arm around his chest protectively. He knew Wes was likely just guessing, but it made him feel like he was being watched, as if he wasn't safe in his own home.

"Now, I'm not planning on telling anyone about this," Wes continued. "But if you do, I'll give them my version. Which is that I kindly invited you to my house for dinner, but you abused my hospitality and took advantage of my generosity. You decided to take a shower and wear my clothes, leaving yours here—which I still have, by the way. Then you took a bottle of my whiskey from the fridge, got drunk, and then ran away like a coward when I confronted you."

Anger boiled up inside Kevin, and he was too tired to bother with self-control. "You're the only one who took advantage," he spat.

"Like I said," Wes replied coolly. "If you tell anyone, that's what I'll tell them. They'll listen to what I have to say, knowing I'm a trusted and respected member of the community. And they they'll compare it to what you say, knowing you're chronically single, gay, and desperate for attention. Do you think anyone won't believe you wanted me? Not to mention that you're the sheriff's kid, which has probably given you a whole bunch of authority issues. People will think it's the natural way of things for you to lash out like a spoiled brat when I told you I wasn't interested."

To Kevin's mortification, he could feel tears welling in his eyes, but he told himself they were from anger rather than despair. "You're one goddamn bastard, Wes," he seethed, injecting his voice with as much venom as he could.

Wes chuckled, and Kevin heard him take another drink. "You know, Kevin, I don't think you truly appreciate just how dangerous your father's job is, given how he's always taking all the calls that he does instead of leaving it to us deputies. Anything could happen to him when he's out on the job. Especially with those Serpents. They've always been violent, but they've been so much more aggressive these days."

Kevin wanted to swear at him again but ravaged by a whirlwind of anger, fear, and worry, couldn't form a sentence.

"When it comes to gangs, you never know when a confrontation will go wrong." Wes sighed. "It's always such a shame when it does. Good policemen die that way every day." His voice hardened. "It wouldn't take much for your dad to be one of them."

Kevin couldn't speak, paralyzed with dread as Wes's meaning dawned on him.

"Given how bloodthirsty the Serpents are, no one would be surprised if they killed a police officer. Not even the sheriff," Wes went on. "And you hang around with one of the Serpents, don't you? Your wannabe novelist friend? I'm guessing he wouldn't like spending the rest of his life in prison for killing a cop. Probably no more than your dad would like the inside of a coffin. So don't go running your mouth about what happened tonight."

He hung up the phone then, leaving the dial tone to ring in Kevin's ear.

Mechanically hitting the power button on the phone, Kevin let himself slide down to the floor, at the absolute end of his rope. Panic rose in his throat, forming a chokehold around his neck as the tears he'd tried to push back broke free and slid down his face. The lights pulsed above him and the night stretched endlessly before him.

He didn't know how long he sat there for, shoulders shaking as he tried to force back sobs, stomach twisting with nausea and something that he couldn't quite name but was somewhere close to grief. After a while, the phone, still clutched in his hand, rang once more.

This time Kevin checked the caller ID and saw that it was his grandparents calling from their home in Montana. Though tempted to leave it to the answering machine, he stifled a sigh and tried to compose himself. Once he thought he could keep his voice level and breathing even, he answered.

"Hello, you've got Kevin," he said, forcing cheer into his voice. You can get through this, he told himself. Get used to faking. You're going to have to do it a lot if you want Dad and Jughead to be okay.

"Hello, dear," his grandmother replied brightly. "It's so good to hear your voice!"

"You, too." The response was automatic. So far this conversation wasn't very hard. Maybe he'd have an easier time lying to everyone than he'd thought.

"It know it's a little bit late where you are," his grandmother continued. "But your grandad and I just wanted to check on when you were coming out for a visit. Have you decided yet?"

Right. His grandparents wanted him to fly to Montana to spend a week or so at their ranch. He promised them he would, mentioning he was planning for either July or August. He hadn't been looking forward to the visit, reasoning that since his grandparents lived in the middle of nowhere, it would be boring as hell.

That wasn't important now. What was important was that Montana wasn't Riverdale.

He had a temporary escape.

Kevin gripped the phone tightly. "Actually, Nana, I've been really looking forward to visiting you," he lied. "What would you say about me staying not just for a week, but for the whole summer?"

A/N:

If you ever want to chat, I'm also Maeve-of-Winter on Tumblr. I love discussion and hearing people's thoughts on my writing, so feel free to submit ideas or just talk Riverdale.

Also, let me know if you spotted the Twin Peaks reference.