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I don't get a chance to rebut because at this point, he takes a step back and tackles me bodily to the ground.

Sam's very strong for an otter; that, combined with my total unpreparedness, brings me down to the ground hard. My head slams back against the tile floor and sparks of pain shoot through the scar that's only now beginning to heal.

Sam's not done yet; he straddles me, pinning my arms down with his knees, and begins pummeling me with his paws.

Half-dazed from the fall, I just lie there there and take it.

Tears form in his eyes as each successive punch gets stronger and stronger. "You will never touch Arden again, you lousy piece of shit!" he screams through the tears. "I've been nursing him back to health all these months; I won't let you ruin his life!"

The pain finally begins to seep in; somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice reminds me that I deserve all this... but it doesn't mean I can't still make things right.

Thinking back to my middle-school wrestling days, I roll over quickly. Sam's gotten so used to my stillness that it's not too difficult to throw him off. He slams his head against the bench, giving me just enough time to pin him down. His stupefaction doesn't last long. Seconds later, he begins writhing and trying to get free. "Let me go, you asshole!"

"Sam." My voice softens as my grip hardens. "Please listen to me." Even him headbutting me in the jaw doesn't break my focus. "Please."

He continues to writhe, becoming more and more frustrated by the second.

"Sam, I know what I did was wrong-"

"Wrong?!" He tries to headbutt me again but fails this time. "You almost killed him!"

I ignore the comment and continue. "I love him. I know it doesn't seem like it, but the only reason I did what I did was because I felt that he could do better than me."

"Are you brain-dead?!" Sam's eyes widen with shock at my confession, but he recovers quickly. "He didn't want anything better. He wanted you!"

"I know." The bittersweet profession puts tears in my eyes. "That's why I want to fix things. I don't want to lose him."

"And what are you gonna do if he takes you back?" He snickers. "Put him in the closet again?"

"No." My decision is quick and permanent. I remember James's speech at dinner. "I'm not afraid anymore, Sam."

His struggling lessens. "Not even if it means being laughed at?"

"If he's with me, let them laugh." Come to think of it, I don't get how I couldn't understand this concept before. I'm in the arms of someone I love. Who cares what some random strangers think?

Sam sighs and stops struggling. I hold on for a few more seconds to make sure he's not going to attack again and then let him go.

He turns to me, his eyes red from the tears and anger. "So, you really love him, huh?" His expression softens.

"Sam, I never stopped."

He smiles weakly, looking me over. "So, what are you gonna do now?"

Now, it's my turn to sigh. "I have no idea." I slump down onto the bench with another sigh. "But I'll find a way."

Sam looks me over once more before getting up. "I'll see where things stand."

"Thank you, Sam." I get on my feet and face him.

"Just let me warn you now..." His tone turns serious. "If you ever hurt him again-"

"I won't." I cut him off this time. "I know how much he means to me now. If he'll take me back, I'll never leave him."

"You better!" He smiles and embraces me.

"Arden's lucky to have a friend like you." I hug back.

Sam chuckles. "I do my best."

We clean up from our fight with some soap and water and head outside.

"I'll call you tomorrow," Sam says, getting into his car. "We'll figure this out, don't worry."

I bid him goodbye walk off towards my own car. It's nice to have Sam on my side; maybe together, we can find a way.

I drive home with a feeling of warmth I haven't had in a long time; it's not happiness or accomplishment... it's hope.

I get to the house just in time for dinner; Warren made shrimp scampi. It's the first home-cooked meal I've had in a while, so I go through very little pleasantry before concentrating solely on the food.

The whole meal is absolutely delicious; I don't know if I would have said so a year ago, but Arden really got me into the whole sea-food thing. I could totally get used to Warren's cooking. About halfway though my second plate of shrimp, I realize that they're watching me. It doesn't take me long to realize why. My eye has swollen quite a bit from all the tough love I received in the locker room.

I watch them out of the corner of my good eye and continue eating; no sense in starting an avalanche.

"Mark." James is the first one to speak. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine, Dad." I glance at him briefly and continue eating.

"Any particular reason your eye is swollen, then?" I look up at Warren; he's smiling one of those 'I'll play your little game' smiles and waiting patiently for an answer.

"Look, I just had to figure some things out, okay?" I watch him out of the corner of my eye, hoping he's satisfied with the answer, but he just continues to smile.

"Go on," he says, urging me with a brief nod.

"I ran into Sam." No sense in hiding it now. "He was angry at me for what I did to Arden. So, we tussled around a bit."

"Sam?" Warren is as surprised as I was when Sam tackled me.

"Yeah. He punches pretty hard for an otter." I chuckle and go back to my shrimp.

Again, I feel my parents watching me as I finish off the last few bites. "We're okay now, guys. I proved to him that I still love Arden, and he said he'd try to find some way to get us back together."

They both sigh audibly.

"Have you two come up with anything yet?" Warren asks.

I sigh and slump my head. "Nope." Sam is good friends with Arden, but he isn't a miracle worker. All this hope might be for naught.

"Well, if anyone can change Arden's mind, it's his best friend." James smiles, tapping my paw gently with his.

"I hope you're right, Dad."

We clean up after dinner, watch some monster movie on TV and head to bed.

My room is pretty cold, so I open up the closet to grab a comforter. Underneath it, I find the giant stuffed fox I won for Arden in August; jeez, was it really that long ago?

I remember how I told him to cuddle with it when I'm not around. Deciding that this bit of advice could work both ways, I grab the fox and lay it next to me in bed. It's lost all of Arden's scent, but something about holding it and imagining the otter in its place, calms me down and sends me into an easy sleep.

My alarm wakes me up early next morning; I gasp, feeling the weight in my arms. Seconds later, the illusion of holding Arden fades, and I climb lazily out of bed.

James is already gone by the time I get downstairs, but Warren is sitting at the kitchen table, sipping coffee. I still can't get used to the somewhat surreal feeling of having my history teacher also be my father; that doesn't mean I don't like it.

"Hey Dad!" I walk over and peck him on the cheek.

"Hey Mark!" He smiles, clearly very pleased to be welcomed so warmly into the family.

I'm just happy he's happy; and James. I've always felt like his marriage to Donnah left him incomplete, somewhat. I was absolutely right; the joy and energy he's had ever since he and Warren got back together is simply infectious. He's gotten into great shape over the past few months, too. He looks a good fifteen years younger now. It gives me hope for my own relationship; after all, if after twenty five years someone can get another chance, maybe it isn't too late for me.

Warren waits patiently for me to eat and then gets up. "We should hurry if we want to make it to school on time."

"I'll drive!" I grab my keys from the counter and head out the door.

The ride to school is quick, and we actually manage to get there well before the first bell.

"I'll see you in class!" Warren waves me off and heads to the teacher's lounge.

For lack of anything else to do, I climb the stairs straight to my first class.

As expected, the classroom is and stays empty until the first bell.

I busy myself with reading a book, but invariably drift out of the story and into thoughts about the next class. For the first time in months, I'm actually looking forward to it. I don't expect get back together with Arden in the space of one history lesson, but at least Sam is now on my side.

I pay much less attention in class than I have been, and it shows. Twice I get called on, and twice I have no clue what the question is. The teacher sighs and gives up on asking me any more questions.

"Is everything alright, Mr. Heeley?" He catches me as I'm walking out the door.

"Yeah, I just didn't get much sleep last night, that's all." A blatant lie, but who gives a crap? He buys it, I'm off the hook, and we will never speak of this again; problem solved.

He pats me on the back, saying he understands, and sends me off to my next class.

I am wide awake now, scanning the hallways for any sign of Arden and Sam. I pull out my phone for what must be several dozen times while walking to class; Sam still hasn't texted me.

Neither of them are there when I walk in. I take my usual seat and watch the door closely.

They show up several minutes later. Arden is still in a daze, though lifted somewhat, and Sam is chatting with him, holding up what appears to be a very one-sided conversation. He looks at me momentarily and nods before sitting down.

My phone finally vibrates; I lunge for it with such enthusiasm that it almost flies off the desk.

The text message is short, but very hopeful: Meet me after school, behind the pool complex.

I text back immediately: K.

Sam glances briefly at his phone. Making sure Arden isn't paying attention, he meets my gaze and nods again, but with a smile this time.

After fully absorbing what this whole thing could mean, a familiar pang of nervousness makes my stomach turn. What will I say to him? What will Sam say to him beforehand?

Those questions are put on the backburner as Warren walks in and starts class.

"If I see any cell phones out," he looks at me and smiles, "I'll have to confiscate them and have your parents pick them up. School policy and all that."

Nobody but me gets the joke; I see a lot of kids switching off their ringers and trying to better conceal their nonstop texting.

Class goes on as usual; we're all the way to World War II now. I must say, I was never really into modern history, but Warren just knows how to teach it and make it enjoyable; and it's not just because he's my dad.

"Alright, guys." He passes out a grading rubric. "It's time for your group project!"

I glance over the paper before quickly. It doesn't look too complicated - make a board-game based on your favorite era in European history. He pairs us up using what he claims is a random order. I just pray not to get Arden. I want to be with him, but diving right into it by doing a group project doesn't seem like the greatest idea in the world; I get Sam. A week ago, I would have been horrified - almost as horrified as I was at the thought of getting Arden, in fact; but I feel like we're good enough friends at this point to do a group project together.

The bell rings just then, and I head off to my next class.

As usual, it's a snorefest. My attention is only pulled out of my daydream by Chris's constant pestering. He seems to be getting more and more desperate for my attention. I feel bad about ignoring him, but I'm just too weighed down with crap to give him the attention he deserves. We'll definitely hang out more once Arden and I are back together.

The bell rings and I habitually make for the library.

"Lunch?" Chris makes another attempt.

I sigh but make up for it with a quick smile. "Sure." I don't really have any homework to do, and my mood's the best it's been in days; no reason to not spend some time together.

His ears perk up instantly. "Awesome!"

He practically skips down to the caf, chattering merrily along the way about how excited he is for Spring Leagues to start.

We wait in line for pizza and then sit down to eat.

"Mark, we haven't seen you in ages!" This and similar responses greet me when I sit down at my 'usual' table. I nod politely and shake paws with all of my old friends. It's kind of nice after all this time away to return to the old crowd. It almost brings me back to a simpler time; a time when I was Mark, the alpha male, team captain who had a tiny little secret in his closet, but never let it bother him. I don't dwell in that world for very long; as much as I enjoyed life back then, nothing could beat the few brief weeks I spent with Arden - the golden age of our relationship. I came close to losing everything back then; my parents, my house, any chance at going to college... but what I found was at the same time more trivial and immeasurably more valuable than any of those things.

I look over at Arden, remembering the sheer release of happiness that came with hearing him say he loves me. For those few moments, all else faded into the background, and it was just us floating in our own little universe... a place where nothing could hurt us.

Arden looks at me and then over at Chris. I see the first flicker of emotion in his eyes, but it isn't a good one. It doesn't take me long to figure out that he's looking at Chris and I sitting together. Sam looks in our direction with a hint of disapproval, pats Arden on the back and says something that makes my otter turn away.

I want to run over there right now, in front of everyone, and wrap him in my arms; but I trust Sam enough to stay where I am for the time being.

Lunch ends just as I'm finishing my pizza. I shake paws with Chris and a few of the other guys and head off to English.

I take my usual seat, this time hoping that Arden does sit next to me. It's not even because I want to catch his eye, but because I just want to feel that familiar presence again.

I get my wish, if only because he's the last one to come in and has nowhere else to sit.

I look over at him and smile. I know he doesn't see me, but I hope he feels at least a bit of warmth.

Eggurd teaches the class with her usual flare and makes me momentarily forget my situation. I marvel at her. What's her drive? What is it that causes her to wake up every morning and go to school, to teach kids, knowing that most of them couldn't care less about what she has to say. How does she do it all without losing hope?

From what I heard, her husband passed away almost thirty years ago. How did she recover from this loss?

I suppose I pay more attention to her than what she's teaching, because I have no clue what was taught in class.

She leaves us with a final note about the AP prep group she's leading and then scurries out of the classroom.

I walk out with everyone else, again resisting the temptation to approach Arden and talk things out.

Remembering Sam's message, I head straight for the pool complex.

He's waiting for me when I arrive, alone.

At first, I smell a trap. Is he going to try beating me up again?

He smiles as I walk over and embraces me, fading my fears completely.

"Mark, I've talked to Arden," he says. "But I want to show you something first."

I'm baffled by this, but trust wins out again. "Okay, what is it?"

"Follow me."

He leads me away from the pool complex and towards the track.

As I'm about to step out of a small cover of trees he led me behind, he stops me.

"Just wait here and listen carefully."

I am, once again, confused by oblique directions. "Okay."

I watch him make his way around the perimeter of the track and enter through one of the side-gates. He approaches a spot right in front of my hiding place, coming to a halt within hearing range. I'm so busy watching him that I completely miss another figure that enters the track.

Chris is walking briskly, his jacket pulled tightly around him, trudging wearily through the fresh snow. "What the fuck do you want?" He glares at Sam.

"Well, since you somehow managed to avoid arrest," Sam glares right back at him, "I thought I'd give you some bruises of your own."

"Oh, Christ!" Chris rolls his eyes. "Are you really gonna open that can of worms again?"

"After what you did to Arden and Mark, that can is far from closed." Sam's clearly doing his best to control himself.

"Oh, please!" Chris chuckles. "Arden's a zombie, and Mark's... well, who gives a fuck what he is? He's not getting back together with cocksuckng otter, and that's good enough for me."

I stifle a gasp; Arden was right. He was right all along.

"I can't believe you'd do this for your little soccer game." Sam's a bit more composed now; at least his voice is level.

"And I can't believe how Mark was willing to jeopardize my chance at getting to the nationals for some tail!" Chris comes right back at him.

"But you said yourself none of what you told him is true."

"No."

He did lie. He lied about everything. I want to run out right now and tear his throat out, but I restrain myself, choosing to see what else he has to say.

"But you never know. I was not going to let his cock-fancy get in the way of my dreams! He's my little pet now, and I will train him into a soccer-playing machine!"

"No thanks, Chris." Having heard more than enough, I walk out of the trees, trying my best to keep from pouncing on him.