“Dinner break!” Solana stumbled into Nick’s house, bags tumbling from her arms as she tried to carry in groceries and an enormous vacuum cleaner.

“Lani! Jesus, woman. You could have asked for help!” Nick hopped off of the stool, leaving Steve to hold the curtain rod up by himself.

“Hey! Man, I can’t hang on to this.”

“Keep your pants on…I’ll be back.” Turning to Lani and taking the bags from her hands, he whispered, “Believe in miracles. I haven’t killed him.”

“Glad to hear it. Make him stand there for another minute.”

Smirking, he headed into the kitchen with the mystery groceries. “What’s the vacuum for? I’ve got one.”

“It’s one we use at the center…could suck up a whole boy band. Thought you could use it for the tub and kitchen.”

“Ah…good plan. They swept up a lot of it, but our feet are still crunching.”

“Nick, god! Get over here and screw this thing in!”

“You know, Steve. I really don’t think you’re in a position to be ordering me around. I’m helping Miss Romero. Sit tight.”

“You’re taking great pleasure in this, aren’t you?” Solana started emptying out the bags and stopped. “Give me that vacuum. I can’t stand this floor anymore.

“Oh wait. Let me get Ron. He’ll be happy to do it.” Almost gleefully, Nick jogged down the hall finding Ron sitting in a pile of t-shirts folding and stuffing them in drawers. Nick’s house would end up neater than it had been in years.

“Miss Romero needs you to vacuum the kitchen.”

“I’m busy.”

“Now. Where’s Ben?”

“Bathroom…folding towels.” Ron reluctantly got up and disappeared into the hall, mumbling something about bossiness and sons of bitches. All Nick could do was shake his head. Attitude. They needed to be brought down about 10 notches. He’d accomplished maybe one all day. Two if he was lucky.

“Hey. How’s it goin’?”

“You have too fucking many towels. Who needs this many?”

“Me. Miss Romero’s here with dinner. Why don’t you help her out, huh?”

“Is Steve still in there?”

“Yeah…I’ve got him hanging on a curtain rod.”

“By his neck, I hope?”

“Not yet…I should though, huh?”

“Mmm. I can’t believe what a dick he’s being. To think I used to act that way.”

Nick had to chuckle. Ben…actually self-righteous. Whodathunk it? “Yep, you did. And you still do sometimes, so don’t go gettin’ all cocky.”

“Shaddup. Here. You do the last few and I’ll go help her. Just don’t make me even look at Steve.”

“You’re fine…just ignore him. You’ve got to eat quick anyway…ball game.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m gonna pitch like shit. I’m dead.”

Nick shrugged and took the towel from Ben and thwapping him on the behind with it. “Shoulda thought of that before you let them in here. Now, go help Miss Romero.”

As he folded the last towel and stuck it in the closet, Nick turned to the rest of his bathroom and heaved a sigh. This clean up was fine…they were whining, but they were doing it. But he had so much that needed flat out replacement. Mirrors, glass for pictures, cups and dishes, the comforter in Jack’s room was ripped, and of course, his drum kit. He didn’t want to deal with it. He just wanted to blink his eyes and have it done. Dammit, dammit, dammit.

“NICK! GOD DAMMIT! I’m still hanging here!”

Oops. Okay, maybe this all wasn’t so bad after all. Paybacks were a bitch.

Solana served up a fabulous meal, cleaning up a lot of the kitchen as she went. It had to have been the most uncomfortable dinner any of them had eaten, silence only broken by the clanking of utensils on plates and glasses being lowered back to the table after a drink. That and the occasional snicker between Ben, Solana and Nick. Steve and Ron’s distaste for the setting was too fun.

And now, time for dessert. Nick cleaned up the plates and let Solana serve…

…their sentences for their games played in Nick’s home.

“So, I talked to all three of your mothers today and we’ve come up with a way for you to indirectly pay Nick back for all the damage you did here.”

“What if we don’t agree to it?”

“I call the cops, Steve. I’m trying to keep your record clean and avoid the press, but I have no problems changing my mind.” Nick brought in new drinks for he and Solana and sat down, loudly sighing in satisfaction at the refreshment of the drink…just to be obnoxious.

“Hey…I’m still thirsty.” Ron had less fight in him than Steve but much more whine. Both were a nuisance.

“Sorry. We talk, you shower and get ready for your game. You’re done with dinner.”

“Real quick…Nick are you gonna come to this one?” Ben was a bit more nervous for this game. They were already secured a slot in tournaments, but he wanted to pitch well…and for Nick to see it.

“I might drop in, Ben, but I have to get my office cleaned up.”

Ben looked down and picked at his fingers. Damn, he’d really blown it. “Oh. Yeah…I understand.”

“So, how do you expect us to pay you back, hotshot?”

Solana took over. No wonder Nick wanted to kill him. What a putz. “First, you’ll change your attitude. You can gripe and moan and complain at home, but while you’re here you will treat Nick and me with the respect you would any other adult.”

“So, I have to smile and dance while I’m hanging curtains?”

“If that’s what I tell you to do while you’re in my home, yes. You’ll sew new ones if I tell you to.”

For some reason, either Nick’s words or the deep glare finally smacked Steve between the eyes. He had no retort.

Solana continued, spelling out the details of work at the center and Ben’s work at Nick’s home keeping up his yard and possibly his pool. Both assignments would be treated as jobs where they’d have to call in if they were sick or had an emergency. If they chose to participate in sports, the work schedule would have to be worked in accordingly. If it wasn’t, sports would be removed. School first, job second, recreation third.

“My mom actually agreed to this bullshit!? How am I supposed to get to the center…or home?”

“During school, a bus comes to the center every day. Grab it. Getting home is your responsibility…and your parents. And they agreed to it, yes.”

“This is some shit, man.”

“No, Steve,” pointing to the mess still lingering in his living room and kitchen, Nick reminded him. “THIS is some shit. Your shit. You messed with the wrong guy, dude.”

“Aren’t you hot-“

“Steve, shut the fuck up, man! God…you know, you’d be much happier if you’d just CUT the attitude.” Ben stood up, slamming his chair into the table. “I know you don’t give a damn, but we’ve hurt someone who has been nothing but kind to me and my family. No one outside of Miss Romero has ever cared about me like he does…and I’m supposed to be your friend. But you sit here, mouthin’ off, screwin’ around, treating him like shit. You make me sick.”

And he was out. Storming down the hall and into the guest bath, turning on the shower water faster than anyone could breathe. No one said anything, no one moved. Ben had pretty much summed it all up, and the younger boys knew it.

Sick of looking at these two delinquents, Solana closed the conversation. “You two will start at the center on Monday. You should be done here by then. You’re responsible for your transportation and start time is 9 am on non-school days.”

“Miss Romero?” Ron finally looked up from his point of concentration at the edge of the table.

“Yes, Ron.”

“I’m…Nick…I’m…I’m really sorry. I didn’t think it’d get this out of hand…I just…followed, you know? I’m really sorry.”

“We appreciate that. It’ll make this all go a lot more smoothly. Thank you, Ron.”

Steve snorted and got up, disappearing down the hall and banging on the bathroom door to hurry Ben up. “Come on, man…I gotta shower too.”

“Alright guys. Play good. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Steve and Ron quickly hopped out of the truck, grabbing their bags and taking off to their respective fields for warm up. Ben, however, never moved.

“You goin’?”

“I gotta ask you a question first.”

“Shoot.”

Ben kept his gaze down, fiddling with the strap to his bag and shaking his leg nervously. He wanted to cry again. He wanted to throw up. He wanted everything back to normal. As screwed up as ‘normal’ was.

Before he could fight it off, a tear trickled down his freckled cheek and he looked up to Nick, hoping he didn’t have to ask what was on his mind. Unfortunately, Nick failed mind reading in school. “Ben…what’s up, man?”

“I just wanted to know…I mean…” Looking down again, his sobs returned in full force, angering him, embarrassing him and in a strange way, relieving him.

“Hang on…don’t move.” Nick got out of the truck and opened Ben’s door, wordlessly folding the boy in his arms. “Come on now…it’s gonna work out fine. We’ll get past this.”

“Will we? I mean really? What have I done?”

“You screwed up, Ben. You screwed up big. And you’re going to pay for it.”

“But…you and me. I mean…will we ever get to be just…” He wiped his runny nose on Nick’s shirt without even thinking.

“Hold up…napkins in the glove box, dude. I’m not that damned compassionate.”

Ben had to chuckle as he apologized with his eyes and grabbed a napkin to wipe his nose. “Yuck…they suck.”

“Better than my shirt…now…what were you saying?”

Ben blew his nose and looked back up to Nick, amazed he was still being so nice. “Will it ever be just you and me again, or did I blow that?”

“Of course it will. We’ve gotta put up with Bonnie and Clyde this week, but we’ll be…yeah, why do you ask?”

“I was afraid you’d not want to…that I’d blown it.”

“Ah…nope. We have half the year left anyway.”

“I know, but…you could probably get out of it if you wanted to.”

“I don’t want to, Ben. That’s one reason I didn’t call the cops. I knew I’d lose you.”

Ben nodded and wiped his nose again, still not satisfied. Taking a deep breath, he asked the question whose answer he feared the most. “Do…do you hate me now?”

“What? Ben! God no…” Nick wrapped his arms around Ben, letting the boy melt into a pile of tears yet again. He wondered if this was the first time the kid had actually felt real guilt for his own actions. It was obvious he’d carried some form of guilt around for what happened with Darren those few years ago, but for his own actions? Had he ever really taken responsibility before now? “I’d never hate you, Ben…never.”

“I hate Steve.”

“Hate’s a waste. But I’d stay the hell away from him, dude. Make some new friends.”

Ben pulled away, sniffing and snorting, wiping and blowing. What a great image for a star pitcher. “You sound like Erin now.”

“Erin’s a smart girl.”

“She’s pretty too. And a good kisser.”

“There’s my Ben. Now go pitch the hell outta that game okay? I’ll be back with Miss Romero and your cheerleader.”

“Okay…I’m so sorry, Nick.”

“I know…and it’s okay now. We’ll just change gears a bit, but we’re fine.”

Ben nodded again, still not quite convinced. He wanted to believe Nick, but no one had had this kind of patience with him before. Why should Nick be any different?

Nick stopped him as he slid out of the truck, pulling on his duffle that was strapped on his shoulder. “I mean it, Ben. We’re good. Clean up, pay up and move on, alright?”

Ben finally allowed a smile to cross his face…and his eyes. Nick still believed in him. Amazing.

And if that was the case, then there was no reason for Ben not to believe in himself.