"Owe you?" Peter scowled. "Owe youwhat?"
"A talk. Fiveminutes."
"What? We'vebeentalking."
Logan cocked his head to oneside.
"Oh, fine, fine," Peter agreed, waving a hand. "Fiveminutes."
Logan nodded and set off down thehall.
Peter watched as he glanced inside, then quickly glanced away, actually craning his neck back to stare at the ceiling as he knocked loudly on the door. "Jared? I need to talk toyou."
"Oh, fuck.Busy, man!" Jared yelledback.
Peter snickered, and Logan turned to glare at him. Peter bit his lip andshrugged.
"Now, Jare," Logan said. "They're destroying shit downstairs. Like..." He looked back at Peter and shook his head like he couldn't think of something that might get Jared appropriatelyconcerned.
"Football trophies," Peter whispered, and Logannodded.
"I think they're throwing around your football trophies, man," Logansaid.
"What? Nah. My mom packed all thoseup!"
Jared didn't sound sure. And Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes at the idea of his mother having to pack her grown son's trophies in preparation for themove.
"I dunno, man. Looked like trophies to me. You might wanna come check itout."
Two distinctly feminine squeals of outrage - and really, Peter couldn't blame them for being outraged if Jared was ditching them to go check on some decade-old memorabilia - emerged from the room, and Peter barely had time to move aside as two women came out, yanking their dresses into place and carrying theirshoes.
"You areridiculous, Jared Kelley!" a blonde in a purple dress shouted as they passed Peter in thehall.
"Come on, Tara," the brunette consoled her. "Let's get a drink. Plenty of guysdownstairs."
Jared came out next, zipping up his jeans and clapping Logan on the shoulder. "Thanks for the heads-up,bud."
Jared looked nearly the same as he had in high school - barrel-chested, thick-shouldered, dressed in a polo that was way too tight (and not in a good way). But atop his head, his hair was thinning, and his blue eyes seemed just a little bit more tired - and a trifle more blood-shot - than the last time Peter had seenhim.
"Yeah. No problem," Loganagreed.
Jared's eyes lit up as he spied his brother. "Petey! Youcame!"
"Yeah," he said, as Jared caught him up in a hug. "Wanted to make sure no one lit the house onfire."
Jared smiled indulgently as he set Peter on his feet. "Nah. You know the old crew! These guys areharmless. "
They weren't really. Not harmless to others, and definitely not to themselves. But this was an old argument, and Peter knew he'd never win. Not when he was tattling on the Lost Boys to Peter Pan himself. "I think some of them might have had a little too much to drink tonight, though, you know, Jare? They're notthinking."
"Yeah. I get it. I'll handle it," Jared promised. "You just have fun,okay?"
Peter wasn't sure whether Jaredhandling itwould settle things down or amp them up further, but he felt a sudden rush of affection for his brother anyway. Peter had never been an athlete, had never been one of the "cool" kids who wanted to drink and party, had never for even a second been interested in girls. And yet, Jared had never teased Peter, never excluded him, never let his friends get truly aggressive or bullyPeter.
And maybe Logan was right. Maybe Jared wasn't immature so much as... scared. Scared of the unknown. Scared of what the future held. Scared that his best chance at happiness was behindhim.
Peter could understandthat.
As Jared loped down the stairs, Peter turned and darted into his own old bedroom. He didn't wait to see if Loganfollowed.
