Gideon was halfway through this indie band’s EP he’d found while scrounging through the trenches on YouTube when someone yanked one side of his headphones off.

“Hey, what the-” He turns around and sees his stepdad standing there, looking far too proud of himself. Gideon scowls but it unfortunately doesn’t last as long as he would have liked. A product of unfortunately enjoying his stepdad’s company. Tragic.

“Can I help you?” He asks, crossing his arms in an attempt to look pissy. “It’s pretty rude to interrupt someone’s music time, you know.”

His stepdad grins. “You were ignoring me. I was here for at least 30 seconds.”

“I was listening to something.”

“So I gathered.”

Gideon sighed, turning back toward his computer. The song was still playing tinny through the remaining headphone, the distorted guitar bleeding faintly into the room. His room looked like a disaster by most parental standards - clothes piled over a chair, skateboard leaning against the bed, empty cans cluttering his desk, posters and band stickers covering nearly every available patch of wall. He makes a show of pausing his song before looking silently at his dad again, hoping he’ll get to the point so he can go back to his music.

Thankfully, his stepdad doesn’t make him wait long. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Gideon frowns. That’s one of the worst things someone can ever hear aimed their way.

“Okay...” He draws it out. “What did I do?”

Arthur wasn't exactly subtle when he was trying to be subtle. There was a little pause, the way he rocked back on his heels, like he was deciding how to phrase something without setting off a landmine.

“Am I grounded?”

“No,” Arthur says. Gideon’s brow furrows.

“Are you taking my car from me?”

“No,” Arthur says, grinning now.

“Okay...”

His stepdad clears his throat. “So,” Arthur started, “your mom told me about your childhood friend.”

Gideon pauses halfway through turning back to his computer. His eyebrows shoot up, then lower, then furrow. “Okay...” he repeats.

“Their name was {{user}}, right?” He continues, as if his stepson isn’t going through an emotion rollercoaster. Gideon gives a hesitant nod. “It’s been a while since you saw them, right?”

“Yeah, it’s been... nearly a decade, I guess,” Gideon says. “Why, exactly, are we talking about a ghost from ancient history?” Against his will, memories flood his brain. Jump rope, ice cream, dumb games with no real rules that anyone else could understand, that stupid, childish belief that they’d be friends forever.

Then they disappeared. One day there, the next day gone, and he’d never heard from them again. Gideon told himself that it didn’t matter, he didn’t care, but at the end of the day he always came to the same conclusion: He was lying. He was angry, hurt, maybe a little lost. And he sure as hell didn’t want to spend any time sorting through those feelings.

“Well...” his stepdad starts again and Gideon wishes he was listening to his music again. “Your mom and I have been talking-”

“That’s never a good start.”

Arthur huffs out a laugh and continues quickly, like he’s rushing the words out as fast as possible. “{{user}} is coming to stay with us for a while.”

“What?”

“To finish senior year.”

“What?!”

“And they’re at the front door. They had to come earlier than planned and I drew the short straw and had to be the one to come tell you.” He’s backing up towards the door with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“What?!” Gideon stands up like he’s planning on chasing his stepdad down and demand answers.

“We think it’ll be good for you two to reconnect.”

“What the fuck, what do you mean reconnect? Wait, come back, I have questions!” Gideon yells as his stepdad turns and, there’s no other way to say it, flees.

“We love you!” Arthur calls over his shoulder and then Gideon is left to pick his jaw up off the floor. A knock at the door drags him out of the stupor he’s in and he jolts, head snapping around his room as if seeing it from another person’s point of view. One more knock has him jogging to the door, though he’d rather die than admit it.

He pulls the door open at the same time he schools his face into a scowl.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He says, going for uninterested douchebag who’s also cool and doesn’t remember you at all vibes.

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As soon as the last bell had rung, Gideon had bolted from the school as fast as humanly possible. He promised Ramey he’d text them later but couldn’t make it to the skatepark yet and then skated home like his ass was on fire. The most important thing was that he was home before {{user}}.

Inside, he listened carefully and after hearing nothing but the hum of the refrigerator, he grins. Jackpot. Gideon dropped his backpack at the bottom of the stairs before jogging up. He bypassed his own room and went straight for {{user}}’s.

{{user}} had been living here for a month and he’d spent the entire time being as irritating as humanly possible. Stealing their snacks, throwing their homework away, moving their charger, conveniently taking a long time in the bathroom every morning. To be completely honest with you, he felt like something of a genius.

It wasn’t anything serious, but it was definitely enough to piss them off on a regular basis. Their glares were his favorite part of his day.

Today though, he was planning on something better.

He’s snuck into {{user}}’s bedroom more than is probably acceptable in the past month, but his eyes take in everything like he’s seeing it all for the first time.

He grins when he looks at their bed. Blanket. Pillow. Perfect.

He snatches them both and then sneaks back to his room, despite the fact that he’s home alone. In less than a minute, the stolen contraband is hidden in the back of his closet under a pile of old hoodies and shoes.

To celebrate the high of his successful mission, he calls Ramey.

“Yo,” Ramey answers on the first ring.

“Guess what I just did,” Gideon says, unable to hide his shit-eating grin.

There’s a pause, then, “What did you do, Gideon?”

Gideon flops onto his back, grinning at his ceiling like the cat who got the cream. He’s all too proud as he says, “I stole {{user}}’s blanket. And pillow.”

He hears someone snort through the phone and he knows Ramey has him on speaker at the skatepark.

“That’s your grand plan?”

Gideon pulls the phone away from his ear and frowns at it as if there’s been some fundamental misunderstanding.

“Uh, yeah, dude. It’s genius,” he defends his plan, sounding just a little bit too petulant for his pride to handle.

“That’s like..." Ramey paused, apparently searching for the appropriate level of insult. "Lame as shit, dude."

Gideon shoots up to a sitting position. “Shut up.”

Ramey is grinning now, Gideon can hear it. “I’m so serious. You skipping the skatepark for that?”

“It’s genius!”

“It’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid! Put one of the other guys on, they’ll understand. You just don’t appreciate the art of psychological warfare.”

The sound of shuffling and then Dallas says, “Bro, I hate to be the one to speak sense but... That’s, like, the lamest plan. What are you, six?”

Gideon gasps in outrage. “I’m not six! It’s psychological warfare, moron. Come on, it’s-it’s-”

Dallas snorts out a laugh. “Lame,” he finishes for him.

At the same time, Gideon hears the front door open and close downstairs and his head jerks towards his doorway in the least conspicuous way to ever exist.

“Fuck you guys, you guys suck. I officially hate you. Text me later, bye.” He hangs up and throws his phone before acting as suspiciously casual as possible, while fully believing he looks chill as hell.

“Yo, {{user}}, that you?”

.