"Oh. That. I haven't started on it yet."

Sixteen year old Burton "Gus" Guster turned to stare wide eyed at his best friend. "Haven't started on it yet? It was assigned to us five weeks ago. And it's due Friday! That's two days from now. That gives you two days -- less than two days if you count meals and sleep and television watching and time in class -- to finish your Biology project, Shawn."

Shawn shrugged. "So?" he challenged. "I'll do it Thursday night."

Gus would've choked had he been eating or drinking anything. As it was, he nearly swallowed his tongue. "Thursday night?" he managed after a moment. "Thursday night? Shawn. This is getting..." He trailed off. Sighed; took a moment to take in their surroundings (backpacks slung over their shoulders, they were strolling along an otherwise deserted sidewalk -- Gus's house was already in sight) and gather his thoughts.

"You've really been slacking this year. What are you going to do if you flunk? If they don't let you go on to twelfth grade? If they don't let you have your diploma? You know without a decent education you won't be able to do anything with your life. You won't be able to become a lawyer or a doctor or a...a cop or-"

"Stop right there," said Shawn. "You know I don't want to be any of those things. Especially a cop. Cops are evil." A pause, and Gus knew his friend was picturing his gruff father. "Well. Maybe not all cops." He frowned. "I might be biased," he admitted.

Gus shook his head and sighed again. He was honestly worried about his friend, about his friend's future. Shawn had always been...different. Had always been a goof off when it came to school (and, okay, life in general) despite his sometimes not-so-obvious brilliance. But lately he'd been worse. Had been shirking almost all of his responsibilities -- educational and otherwise.

As they walked, as they moved steadily closer to his family's front door Gus pondered he and his friend and how different they had always been. How different they were still in the process of becoming.

"I'm hungry," Shawn said from beside him and suddenly he felt sick -- felt an unpleasant fluttering in his stomach, a strange tightness in his throat. He could suddenly see their futures; envisioned himself a semi-successful businessman (or, well, something like that) and his green-eyed best friend restless, broke (not for lack of talent and brains, mind) and wandering through life.

Their friendship, strong as it was, couldn't overcome that. Wouldn't. It was inevitable. They would outgrow each other, grow apart. There was no way-

"Isn't that Rachel Davis?" asked Shawn, effectively derailing Gus's disturbing train of thought. "The one that scares you?"

"She doesn't scare me Shawn," Gus snapped. "She just...rubs me the wrong way. That's all."

His face a mask of doubt, Shawn turned to stare at him. "Uh huh. I bet she would like that."

"Like what?" asked Gus, turning away from the disbelieving eyes and trying to see...

And yeah, there she was. Rachel Davis. His crazy next door neighbor; she was fifteen, lived with her father in Michigan ten months out of the year and had been enamored with Gus since she'd spotted him that summer she was five and he was six.

"To rub you the wrong way," quipped Shawn.  Gus tore his gaze away from the girl -- who had unfortunately spotted them and was standing from the porch swing, ambling closer -- to glare at him.

"Hi Gus," came Rachel's voice, and Gus felt his whole body tense.  "How are you?"

"Uh...good.  Well.  How are you, Rachel?" 

"What are you doing here?" put in Shawn before she could reply.  "I thought you only lived with your mom during the summer."

"Shawn!" Gus protested.  But not too loudly.  Because, yeah, he wanted to know the answer to Shawn's question.  Wanted to know because Rachel, although basically a nice young woman, could be pushy and desperate and loud and pretty much completely insane when it came to her romantic relationship (or lack of relationship, rather, and that was the problem in her eyes) with Gus.

She blinked at Shawn.  "Wedding," she answered.  "My aunt is getting married."  A smile.  "Do you want to come to the wedding with us, Gus?  My mom said I-"

"He can't," said Shawn.  "He's attached."

It was Gus's turn to blink.  Rachel narrowed her eyes at Shawn.  "Attached?  What...?  He doesn't have a girfriend.  I talk to Tammy Martinez every week on the phone and she goes to school with you guys and I've asked her..."  She trailed off.  Then, "Don't lie, Shawn.  He doesn't have a girlfriend.  You don't have a girlfriend, Gus.  I know you don't."

Her hands were on her hips now.  Her face was flushed and she looked like she was preparing for one of her rants -- one of her long tirades on why she thought she and Gus should be together.  It would end with her crying and Gus feeling guilty (he couldn't stand it when a girl cried and he was involved, it made him feel terrible) and then agreeing to a date he didn't want any part of.  

"He's attached," Shawn insisted.

Rachel glared; shook her head.  "Don't you try and tell me he has a girlfriend.  I just finished saying I talk to-"

But before she could finish her angry rant Shawn spun, snaked an arm around Gus's neck and forced him down for a kiss.  Their lips met; Gus felt the slight pressure of his friend's lips on his own, felt heat and moisture and the warmth of Shawn's more compact body close to his...

A split second later it was over.  

Gus stared bug eyed at his friend.  Rachel's mouth had dropped open -- she seemed to be in shock.

"Who said anything about a girlfriend?" asked Shawn before he grabbed for Gus's arm and dragged him away from crazy Rachel Davis, up the Guster's walk and into their house.

As soon as the front door slammed behind them Shawn dropped Gus's arm.  "Don't ever say I don't do nice things for you," he said.  And then, "What do you guys have to eat?"

Gus showed his friend to the kitchen.  And as he did he didn't worry about what Rachel might tell her friend Tammy and what gossip she might start up at school (even if people did believe Tammy, chances were Shawn was already devising some plan that would take attention off of them -- he always had a plan).  Instead, he realized he should've never worried over he and Shawn growing apart one day.  It wouldn't happen.  Couldn't.

He and Shawn were different, sure.  But they were best friends.  Best friends.  That meant give and take.  Meant even if one day Gus turned into a successful businessman and Shawn a dreamer who leached financially off of his best friend...it wouldn't matter.  Because Gus would be glad to do it, to help out his friend when and if he needed it. 

And Shawn, it seemed, felt the same way.