*grovels* You have no idea how bad I feel for not updating anything in so long...and this chapter isn't even as long as it should be. I thought I'd give you what I've had for a while now, but can't add on to. So I present an extremely short chapter - number six! R&R and all that jazz, please!

The event wasn't spoken of. Dwayne had made it clear to both of his friends that they could not, under any circumstances, even hint at it to David. Easier said than done. For a whole week, Dwayne was on edge around them all, wincing at any word that sounded to him like it was about to be brought up (Paul just didn't know how to shut up), but thankfully, it was like Paul had completely forgotten about what had happened, and Marko was quiet enough about it.

Dwayne knew already that Sam would seemingly disappear off the face of the Earth for up to a week at a time, at random intervals. Sam never offered an explanation. Dwayne never asked. Simple as that. But this time, after Dwayne hadn't seen hide nor tail (okay…that wasn't supposed to be a bad joke) of his favorite were-vamp, he became…worried, you could say. All those other times, Dwayne couldn't say he didn't miss Sam (and this week was no exception), but he had the strange feeling that it would be much longer than normal he would see him again, if ever.

Maybe it was because Michael had intervened—and Dwayne still wondered if Sam knew about that. Maybe Sam was being held captive by his family at his home because they didn't want him to go out and see Dwayne anymore. Or maybe it wasn't like that at all, and Sam just didn't want to see him any longer, so Michael just kept it toned down and threatened Dwayne to stay away, and—

Jesus, stop it, he told himself fiercely. He sounded like a young girl with a wild imagination and confusing relationships with boys, complete with a "He loves me, he loves me not" flower. You know… "Maybe he's not interested. Maybe he's just scared—Aww! Oh, but maybe…he's gay!"

Oh, please.

Dwayne shouldn't be chasing after someone who could possibly not even want him. It made him seem desperate and weak. Plus, he had never been affected this much by someone before, so why start now?

I need to get away and look around…

In more way than one, actually.

He decided that the boardwalk itself was just too plain for his liking tonight, even if it was hustling and bustling with young, provocative blood. He was by himself. As usual, he realized. He had always been just a tad bit detached from his group and friends—the only true family he'd ever really had (so he thought)—but recently it seemed a bit more excessive. He didn't goof off with them and taunt the unlucky passerby who just happened to be in their line of view. Nor did he gawk at women (or men, as he admitted to doing pretty often before he met Sam) in a crude manner. Like his "friends" did. He was separating more and more from them, and he thought bitterly that it was always only a matter of time before he outgrew them.

He shook his head absently, unable to believe he was thinking such sour things, and when he tried to backtrack and correct himself, he wasn't able to; it was all true.

I really need to get out…

That was why he was strolling along the shops and substantial stores that littered the area, from body piercings and tattoos and candy to tuxedos and ball gowns sold at extremely bargained prices. He would walk by them, looking into the windows to check out the merchandise briefly and with little interest before moving on. He passed by the little "vampire hunters" (as they called themselves), and he couldn't remember the last name of the brothers, but it was somewhat weird…like "Toad" or something along those lines. He definitely didn't linger long there, and he didn't even pass through the doorframe; they took their "job" very seriously, for one, and even though David laughed and taunted them all the time, Dwayne would much rather just stay out of their way. Why get yourself into a quarrel with someone if all you had to do was turn the other cheek? Besides, they probably had the front door blessed or something. He didn't feel like testing out the theory.

Everything looked bored and just not "for" him—especially the brightly colored clothing and jewelry that seemed to be everywhere. It was all blah…blah…eh, it's okay…oh, hell no…

And then something (finally) caught his interest. Well, someone.

"I haven't seen you around in a while," came a voice that was more than a couple notches higher than Dwayne's, and very playful.

Dwayne paused mid-step and wondered a few things. Firstly, how the hell did Sam find him? If he had to break down the rest of them into coherent thoughts, it'd probably go somewhere down the lines of, Do I run? Ignore him? Save my ass? I wonder if he knows what Michael did… Probably not. Should I tell him? Will Michael just get grounded or something? Or will he hunt me down and skin me alive? I'm not too young to die, but damn it, I'm not ready.

But in the end, a whole second had passed, and he gathered up all of the courage he possessed to turn around and come face-to-face (though not really, since he was much shorter than Dwayne) with Sam, who had sensed that moment of hesitation and twisted his facial expression into one of confusion and slight worry. Dwayne's own expression must have been pretty bad, because that look of fret amplified sevenfold.

"What's wrong?"

His lips hardened into a fine line, and he said, "Nothing."

"Bullshit. Tell me."

"Sam—" He broke off and looked around them briefly; no one was paying any attention. Why would they? He opened his mouth to speak again but closed it and sighed. He had underestimated Sam, however, who was much smarter than Dwayne gave him credit for. Sam caught on almost right away, after having a few second to piece it all together. Michael had come back late that one night, which was an anomaly for him, and acted all strange and bold, with his chest puffed out as he strutted. He had looked very accomplished, and Sam had assumed something different at the time—but now he knew the real reason why.

The look of confusion was replaced with solid anger and his eyes went hard. He wasn't looking at Dwayne anymore, though; he wasn't looking at anything in particular. "I see." Dwayne blinked and Sam was gone, the crowd of people at the boardwalk filling the gap where he stood, chatting and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

For a second, Dwayne wondered if there would be a tomorrow for a few people.