As if it had only been for a second, Brady opened his eyes to see that the sky had turned from glowing stars to bright and blue. He could hear the chirping of hungry birds from a nearby nest and motors of nearby lawnmowers. For a moment, he couldn't recall where he was and just about panicked, but then he felt something slide from his hand, followed by waking yawn. Brady turned his head toward the noise to see Mark rubbing his eyes and then become suddenly confused. "Geeze, did we pass out?" he asked sleepily, while staring over at Brady.

"Apparently," replied Brady with a smile. "So much for being sneaky," he added.

Mark carefully sat himself up and looked around the yard and then over to his house, about one hundred feet away. "It's cool. Better we talked last night than had a weird day today," he said. "You n'your mum are still coming, right?"

"Yeah. Well, if I'm not grounded, anyway."

"Nah, your mum'll just be happy we finally talked it out. Wish we could'a done it sooner, though. This whole week was boring as hell. Didn't you get my friend invite on that game of yours?"

Brady looked away from Mark, feeling guilty. "Yeah. I just figured you were trying to set me up."

Mark chuckled, instantly being reminded of his back, and gasped in pain. "Shit. Hoped that would be better today," he said, mainly to himself, and then turned his head back towards Brady's direction. "Why would I spend that much money to set you up? I'm sure there's easier ways than that," remembering his experience at the store, he laughed even louder. "I even got arrested trying to buy that game."

"What?!" asked Brady in surprise. "How? What happened?"

"Some undercover arse-hole at this department shop scared the shit out of me. I thought he was a pervert or something, so I ran out the store with the game in my arms. Turns out, he was the store's security."

"Really? So what happened? Do you have to go to court?"

"Nah. Me mum sorted it out," Mark snickered. "Even got the game for free, once she was done with 'em."

"Holy-shit," gasped Brady, feeling even more guilty, like it was his fault. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" asked Mark, trying to climb to his feet. "Wasn't your fault -- Help me up, would yuh?"

Brady rolled onto his knees and stood up, then walked in front of Mark. "Slowly?"

"Yeah," Mark agreed. "On three?" he began to count, "One, two, Argh!" he screamed, after Brady started pulling him up too soon. "I said three!"

Brady stepped away from Mark, horrified that he might have hurt his friend's back even more. "Sorry. I thought you meant to go on three."

"I'm fine," groaned Mark. "Just wish my back would smarten-up already. Dad's gonna pick up a small pool for later, and I don't wanna just sit and watch. It's meant to be hotter-than-hell today."

"Maybe you should go see a doctor for some, what are those things called,? Anti-inflammatory or something like that... Or even ibuprofen?" suggested Brady, helping Mark walk towards his house.

"Aren't those the same thing?"

Brady shrugged and kept walking. "Dunno for sure, but I do know they work like magic."

"Maybe I'll make Mum pick some up when she goes to grab that pool with my Dad."

"So how'd you hurt your back, anyway?" Brady asked when he realized he hadn't thought to ask previously.

"James and I were dinging-off on the couch, and he flipped me off the edge. Landed straight on me ass, too."

Brady smirked, trying to envision little-James flipping his older brother over, "You always this self-destructive when I'm not around?"

Mark giggled. "What are you talkin' about? Wasn't I with you when we got our asses kicked? And weren't you the guy who got a black eye from a runaway ball?"

"Oh right... so you're just full of bad luck then," decided Brady as they approached Mark's back door. "You gonna be in trouble?" he added.

"Nah. No more than usual, anyway," he chuckled. "What about you?"

"Dunno. Never done this before. If you don't see me by two then my mom's killed me."

"You better bloody-well come!" said Mark, raising his voice to express how serious he was. "I don't wanna be sitting out here with all them old-folks drinking beer and telling bad jokes."

"You'll have James," Brady reminded him.

Rolling his eyes, Mark refrained from giving Brady's shoulder a punch. "Are you threatening me? That kid's like eight, and he can already beat the snot outta me. I need your protection, Brady!"

Laughing at Mark's strangely-serious expression, Brady waited for Mark to hobble inside of the house. "And you decide to pick the one guy in the world to lose a fight between himself and a ball for protection?"

Mark shrugged with a grin. "Better than doing it alone, isn't it?"

"I Guess, but don't expect much. If I see a ball, I'm outta there!" warned Brady, and the two shared a quick chuckle. "So, I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, and bring a bathing suit and towel, just in case."

Brady nodded. Even though he wasn't completely sure how keen he was on the idea of swimming, he agreed anyway. "So long as you bring one, too."

Raising an eyebrow, Mark grinned at Brady as if he had read between the lines. "Depends on my back now, doesn't it?"

Shaking his head, Brady smiled and stepped away from the door to make his way back home, waving one last goodbye before disappearing through the gate.

Unsure of the time, Brady hoped his mother would still be in bed, and he'd be able to sneak back into his bedroom without his absence ever being noticed. However, after standing at the front door for several minutes to try and collect himself, when he reached for the door it had been locked. Feeling his heart-rate increase again and his brow begin to sweat, Brady reached for the doorbell and pressed it. His anxiety had reached a whole knew level, so much so that it seemed as if it were causing his skin to glow a bright, neon green. His thoughts scattered and seemingly ran for cover just when Brady needed them the most; how was he going to explain himself?

Before Brady felt ready, the door opened, and there was his mother staring down at him. Surprisingly, she didn't say a word, and instead, looked back into the house, appearing startled and confused. "How the hell did you get out here?" she asked. "What are you even doing up?"

Brady stepped inside the house, keeping his head down in hopes that his mother's questions would fade away. As he took off his shoes, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his head, and he couldn't take it anymore. "I went to talk to Mark," he blurted, now feeling silly for thinking she'd be angry.

"Couldn't you wait until later? It's not even eight yet." Natalie closed the door and waited for her son to look her in the eye. "How long have you been out?"

"Since last night," he answered nervously, now remembering why he had been so afraid to be caught. "I couldn't leave it 'til later. It would'a been too weird."

"Last night?!" Natalie circled Brady and stood in front of him. "You were out ALL night?!" she croaked, more afraid that she hadn't noticed than actually being angry.

Brady nodded his head and finally managed to look up at his mom. "I didn't mean to. It was an accident; we fell asleep."

"Brady," Natalie placed her hand on her forehead, trying to work out what she was supposed to say. "You can't just leave whenever you feel like it. What if something happened to you? How would I know?"

"We were just in Mark's backyard," he tried to explain as his eyes blurred with gathering tears. "I'm sorry, Mom. I just..."

Seeing her son's guilt consuming his face, Natalie put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Did you two sort out whatever it was that happened?"

Brady nodded his head and wiped the back of his hand under his eye. "Yeah, we're good now."

"Good." Natalie pulled her son towards herself and gave him a long hug. "The next time you want to go out, let me know, okay?" Brady nodded his head again and turned towards the stairs. "Where do you think you're going?" asked Natalie, placing her hand on her hip. "As punishment, you're cooking me breakfast."

Turning his head back around, Brady looked into Natalie's eyes, trying to call her bluff. "Me? Cook?"

Natalie smirked and nodded her head. "I've got a craving for Brady's Spectacular, Extra-crispy, Super-crunchy, Almost Frisbee-like, Pancakes."

"You sure you don't want a bowl of cereal instead?" giggled Brady. "At least that won't feel like wood-chips when it comes out."

"Nope. I'm going to make a cook out of you yet," encouraged Natalie. "Come on, let's get to it," she insisted, noticing Brady's hesitation.

"James! Not yet!" screamed Peter as James darted across the lawn towards the oversized, inflatable pool. "You'll kill yourself!"

Stopping almost dead in his tracks, James slid several feet towards the pool. "Aw, come on! It's good enough," he whined, staring into the pool at the two-inches-worth of water.

"Patience James," said Brittany, carrying a tray of crackers and cheese and placing it on the patio table. "Where's Mark?"

"He falled asleep," answered James, staring at the stream of water from the hose as it trickled into the pool.

"That's what he gets for sleeping in the grass," commented Peter, grinning mischievously as he directed the hose at James, who was getting too close to the pool.

"AH!" James screamed in surprised delight. "Hey!"

Peter chuckled and redirected the water back into the pool. "Go wake your brother. Natalie and her son'll be here shortly," he instructed. "And while you're in there, grab a couple towels. I don't want you boys dripping all over the house later."

"K, Dad," agreed James. "Want me to bring the football, too?"

"If you like, but before you jump in the pool, you better have your trunks on when you come back out here."

James whipped himself around and darted towards the house just as Natalie's head appeared from behind the gate. "Hello?!" she cooed. "Anyone home?"

Turning in the direction of the voice, Brittany smiled and waved. "Hi there! Come on in, Natalie!"

"I can't," she replied. "My hands are full, and I can't reach the latch."

Brittany turned and walked across the patio. "Just a moment, Dear. I'm on my way." Turning the corner, to the side of the house, Brittany could barely see the top of Natalie's head on the other side of the fence. "What ever did you bring?" she asked, while opening the gate.

"Just some snacks, beer and wine," listed Natalie.

"Where's Brady?" asked Brittany. "He should be helping you."

Natalie rolled her eyes as she awkwardly manoeuvred through the gate at a sideways angle. "He's still in the shower," she explained as Brittany reached for a tray that was threatening to fall from Natalie's hands.

"You didn't have to bring anything," Brittany reminded. "We've already got more food and drink than the entire British Guard could eat."

Following behind Brittany, Natalie dropped a cooler on the patio's floor. "I know. I just couldn't show up empty handed. It didn't feel right."

"MUM!" screamed James, running out of the house. "Mark won't get up!"

"Tell'em Brady's here!" she screamed back.

James looked around the yard in search for Brady. "No he isn't..."

"Well I know that -- but Mark doesn't."

Looking like a deer in headlights, James cocked his head and slapped his hands against the waist of his blue swimming shorts. "I'm not gonna lie for you, Mum!" he scolded.

"Then think of something else; I'm busy right now, James."

With the sides of his cheeks dimpling, James arched his eyebrows in a devious manner and bolted back into the house. "K, Mum. I'll take care of it!"

"Uh-oh," giggled Natalie, "that can't be good."

Hearing the gate opening, Brittany leaned forward and tried to peer around the corner. "Brady? Is that you, love?"

Peeking around the corner, with towel hanging from his shoulder, Brady immediately blushed as a result of being called 'love'. "Yeah," he squeaked. "Sorry I'm late."

"Come in. We're not gonna bite yuh," teased Brittany. "Perhaps you can go give James a hand in waking up your friend," she suggested.

"He's sleeping?" asked Brady, suddenly feeling like a third wheel.

"Yeah," Peter butted in, still filling up the pool. "He's been napping on the sofa most of today," he explained, "you kept him up too late last night, it seems."

Brady dropped his head and blushed again. "Sorry sir," he apologized, just as a deep, blood-curdling scream could be heard from inside the house.

"AARGH!"

"Mum! MUM!" James called out, giggling like a mad man, as he ran into his mother's arms. "Mark's trying to kill me! This is your fault! Save me!" Directly in behind James, Mark stormed through the door.

"I'm gonna kill that little...!!!" Mark stopped to see everyone staring at him. "Uh -- hi."

Noticing Mark's face and shirt were soaked, Brittany couldn't help but laugh. "James? ...Did you get the couch wet?"

"I didn't know what else to do though! It's not my fault!" Deciding that it was safe to depart from his mother's lap, James climbed to his feet. "Is the pool fulled yet?"

"Not yet!" blurted Peter. "This bloody thing'll never fill! It just keeps getting bigger and bigger by the litre!"

Grinning at his friend, Brady pulled the towel off of his shoulder and threw it at Mark. "How's your back?"

Not seeing the towel's descent, Mark's entire head was covered by the cloth. "Actually..." thought Mark, ignoring the towel, "it's feelin' pretty good."

"See!" yelled James. "I fixed you!"

Pulling the towel off, Mark glared at his brother. "I highly doubt that," he grumbled.

"You two be nice," Brittany said sternly, then turned her attention back to her guests. "Sit down you two, or at least grab a drink or something. You're both making me nervous."

Natalie turned around from spelunking inside her cooler. "What?" she asked absentmindedly. "You want something? A beer? Maybe some wine?"

"I'm the host, dear," Brittany reminded her. "I'll do the hosting; now sit down and relax, would yuh?"

Reluctantly, Natalie sat down and passed Brittany a beer. "Sorry, I just can't help it."

"You're here to relax. I've got Peter to serve us," teased Brittany.

"I heard that!" yelled Peter. "Hey Mark, come here and take over for a bit, would yuh? My arm's getting sore."

Seeing Mark's frustration, Brady volunteered himself to fill the pool. "You go dry up, I'll do it," he offered Mark.

"Cool, thanks," smiled Mark, appreciatively. "I'll be right back out."

As Mark went back into the house, Brady went and took the hose from Peter's hand. "Have fun," Peter beamed happily. "It looks easy, but just you wait, in fifteen minutes your arms will be stiffer than hell."

Brittany snickered as she twisted the cap off of her drink. "That's an old man's ailment, Petey. Brady's still got his youth."

With a dismissive shrug, Peter grabbed a drink and sat down at the table. "Doesn't matter," he decided. "Least I get to relax a bit."

"Did you ever put together that barbecue?" Brittany teased, knowing very well that their new barbecue was still sitting in the garage.

"Oh soddit," grumbled Peter, looking over at Natalie. "How's that son of yours with tools?"

Natalie immediately burst into laughter. "That boy couldn't tell the difference between a hammer and a wrench," she giggled. "I'd love to help, though. I'll have the barbecue put together in no-time."

Rolling her eyes, "Don't even think about it missy," warned Brittany. "Peter can handle it. You're a guest, remember?"

Inside the house, Mark walked back inside the kitchen after changing into his swimming trunks. Stopping at the fridge to get a drink, a slight twinge in his lower back reminded him of his injury. Glimpsing up at the top of the fridge, where his mother usually kept over-the-counter medications, he quickly noticed their absence.

"MOM!" yelled Mark towards the closed back door, "Where's the pain pills!?" Waiting for an answer, but not getting one, Mark poured himself a glass of water and decided to look for the pills himself.

Passing through his parent's bedroom, Mark made his way into their bathroom, towards the medicine cabinet which hid behind a mirror. Reaching forward and opening the reflective door, he extended his finger and slid it along the bottom of a glass shelf as he read the labels of miscellaneous prescriptions, medications, and, leaving Mark feeling nauseous, ointments. Finally, beside his father's shaving cream, he found a small bottle of Advil. On the side, he read the directions and the slogan "One is often enough". Considering the pain he was feeling, Mark considered taking two but then decided to test the Pfizer company's claim instead, and only took one.

Brady stared down at the pool as the ripples of water spread out in all directions. The sun was reflecting the trees branches and clear, blue sky from the liquid's surface, invoking in Brady an incredibly strong sense of nostalgia. It was as if he had been teleported back in time, all the way back to his ninth birthday.

The day was just as hot now as it was then, and the coolness of the water was just like that day at the lake. It was the first memory Brady had of camping with his father. He could almost hear his dad's voice through the trickling water. The camping site they had visited was located right against where a creek flowed into the lake. There were rocks everywhere, and the sound of rushing water was most prominent. His dad was teaching him how to pitch a tent, and failing miserably. He had insisted on using only stones as tools, and as a result, getting nowhere fast. The rocks had broken the tent's stakes and cut through one of the ropes, and the flint they were using to create fire had proven an impossibility.

"What's so funny?" asked Mark, forcing Brady back into the present.

Brady turned his head towards Mark, who was bare-chested and only wearing a pair of red swim-shorts. "Oh, sorry. Guess I spaced out there for a minute," replied Brady, nervously.

Mark looked at his friend as if he were mad. "A minute? I've been standing here forever," he explained, as he noticed Brady watering the grass. "Uh... You want me to take over for you?"

"What?" asked Brady, shaking his head and realizing what he was doing"

Mark reached for the hose. "You're watering your shoes..."

"Whoops!" Brady panicked and jumped back, releasing the hose and causing it to snake in all directions.

"AH!" yelped Mark, jumping back in surprise. "Shit!" he gasped. "Guess my back's not as good as I thought it was... Grab the hose!"

"Shit!" Brady lunged forward, fumbling for the flailing tube. "Sorry!"

Suddenly a ball splashed inside the pool, followed by the hysterical giggles of James as he dove inside after it. "JAMES!" Mark squealed, arching his back away from the splashing water. "Dammit!"

Finally managing to grab the hose, Brady quickly directed it back towards the pool. "You okay?" he queried guiltily. "I'm so sorry."

"It's cool..." lied Mark. "I'm good."

"You don't look good," James pointed out from inside the pool. "Your face is all red."

"That's because you soaked me with ice-cold water, you prat!" scolded Mark, bracing himself with his hands against his back.

Examining Mark's stance, Brady approached him. "Maybe you should sit down or something."

"Nah, I'm fine," Mark assured him. "It's still nowhere near as bad as it was last night."

"You sure?" asked Brady, skeptically.

"Yeah -- how about you?"

Looking confused, Brady shrugged and looked back at the pool. "What do you mean?"

Mark nodded down at Brady's shoes. "Maybe you should take those off."

"Good plan," agreed Brady. "Can you hold the hose for a second?"

"Sure thing."

Taking the hose from his friend, Mark watched as Brady kicked off his shoes and attempted to peel off his socks. "Damn, they're glued to my feet now," moaned Brady.

"That's what you get!" shouted James from inside the pool, reminding the others that he was still there.

"Stuff-it James," teased Mark as he pressed his thumb in front of the hose's nozzle, splashing James in a violent spray of water. "Haha! Take that!"

In an attempt to protest, James yelped in gurgles and quickly dove under the water to escape the assault. "I wish I could carry this around with me everywhere," commented Mark, admiring the affect that the hose had on his brother. "Could come in handy, you know?"

"No fair!" whined James, jumping out of the half-filled pool. "Give me that!"

Feeling his brother tugging at the hose, Mark pulled at it as hard has he could. James squealed in amusement as his body was forced over the edged of the pool and into the grass. "Figures you liked that," chuckled Mark. "How about we tie you up?"

James's eyes widened and his head shook from side-to-side. "No! Don't!" he protested as Mark approached him with the hose. "I'll tell on you!"

"MARK!" yelled Brittany from the patio table. "No tying up your brother with the garden hose! We just bought that..."

Grinning up at his brother, James stuck out his tongue and cheekily blew raspberries at him. "Haha!" he teased and then jumped to his feet and dove back into the pool.

"So what's with you today?" asked Mark, looking over at Brady. "Still worried I'm gonna belt-yuh one?"

"Huh?" replied Brady, finally getting off his socks.

"You seem quiet, and kinda spacey too," said Mark. "What's on your mind?"

Brady placed his shoes behind a nearby tree and then turned back to face Mark. "I'm okay," he assured him.

"Liar," accused Mark. "Seriously, tell me."

Shaking his head lightly, expressing his reluctance, Brady tried to think of what to say. "I dunno. Just thinking about last night, that's all."

"What about?" replied Mark as he allowed the water from the hose to pour over his brother's head.

Looking around suspiciously, as if the entire world were listening. "Dunno, just wondering, I guess."

"About what?"

Brady shrugged, "Camping."

"Camping?" returned Mark, confused. "You want to go camping?"

"No," replied Brady, appearing frustrated. "About what you said about camping, remember?"

Mark thought for a moment, watching James as he attempted to bite at the flowing water. "Oh -- right... Maybe we should talk about that later," said Mark, nodding to his brother, "you know?"

"Yeah, okay; that's cool," agreed Brady.

The two fell into an awkward silence for several minutes. With neither of them knowing what to say next, they were quickly relieved when James broke the peace with an uproar of random squeals and waves. "STOP WETTING ME!" he demanded, rapidly thrusting his hands into the water and splashing both Mark and Brady.

"Hey! Cut it out!" giggled Mark, trying not to twist his body too fast because of his back.

Brady immediately cowered behind the tree where he had put his shoes, leaving Mark to fend for himself. In the pool, James had gained control of the hose and was twirling it above his head, causing water to stream in all directions. "It's raining!" bellowed James, proudly. "Get back here!"

Out of nowhere, Mark appeared behind Brady scaring him in the process. "Jesus! Where'd you come from?"

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Mark leaned against the tree. "Did you bring your trunks?" he asked.

Brady nodded. "Yeah, underneath my shorts."

Looking at him funny, Mark looked down at Brady's legs. "You're wearing shorts under shorts?"

"Yeah..." replied Brady, suddenly feeling foolish. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Mark snickered. "Just weird, I guess."

"I wanted something to change into after," Brady tried to explain.

"Don't worry about it. Right now, we gotta get in there and get that hose away from James." Mark's expression became oddly serious. "Objective one: trunks readied. Objective two: raid pool, covert-ops style. Objective three, and most crucial!: reclaim hose and strangle my brother with it... either that or we drown him."

Staring at Mark as he stroked his chin deviously, Brady toyed his thumbs at the waist of his jean shorts. "Um..."

"What are you waiting for!?" urged Mark, peering around the tree trunk at his brother. "This madness has to stop!"

"Here?" asked Brady.

Mark stepped forward and reached for Brady's shorts. "Yes here!" he shouted as his fingers clutched against the fabric of his friend's jeans. "Take off your clothes!"

"Hey!" Jumping back, Brady grasped at his shorts when the fear of being exposed set into reality. "Cut it out!" he pleaded as he bent his knees and squatted towards the ground. "I can do it..."

Raising his eyebrow, Mark stared into Brady's eyes skeptically. "Will you, Brady? Will you really?" he asked doubtfully.

"Honest, okay? Just give me a second."

Mark then stepped back and watched as Brady turned around to remove his shorts. "Come on, really? You can't be that shy! You're wearing trunks underneath dummy."

"I know, I know," chuckled Brady in embarrassment. "Force of habit I guess."

"Just hurry up. James isn't paying attention anymore," urged Mark, keeping an eye on both James and his friend.

Brady nervously unbuttoned his shorts, looked on either side of himself, then finally slid his shorts down to the grass. Hesitating for only a moment, he pulled off his shirt and placed it over top of his jeans. "There you happy?"

Mark quickly looked Brady over. "Shit dude, you work out or something?"

"Not really," shrugged Brady. "Why?"

"Dunno. You just have more muscle than I would have expected from a couch potato." Turning his attention back at James, Mark lowered down onto his knees, motioning for Brady to follow, and cautiously slithered toward the pool.

Feeling his knees become soaked and cold, Brady was hesitant to lay down like Mark had done. However, after seeing Mark's scowl, he decided it best to grit-and-bear it. The moment the bare skin of his stomach made contact with the grass, Brady's entire body was coated in a thick layer of rippling shivers, but just before he complained, he noticed Mark approaching side of the pool. Either the side of the pool he was on was much wetter or Mark had rolled several times in the grass, but whatever the reason, Mark's trunks were now perfectly pasted to his backside. Without even realizing it, Brady gasped in the deep tone of a moan. Both confused and afraid at the same time, he panicked and slapped both of his hands against his mouth then rolled out of sight, behind the pool.

The hose was once again being twirled in circles, and the ice cold water was splashing in all directions. Brady, not sure what else to do, decided that now would be as good of a time as any to make his move. Not allowing himself to think any longer, he pushed himself up to his feet and shot his body into the air towards James, who was standing in the centre of the pool.

With his eyes feeling like they had just burst from his skull, James screamed and whipped the hose forward as he threw his weight backwards. The moment he felt his shoulders touch against the rim of the pool, Mark jumped out and grabbed his arms. Still screaming, James kicked and splashed as loudly and violently as he could.

Brady, after getting bashed in the head with the metal end of the hose, sank to the bottom of the pool in shock. From underneath the water, he could see James's limbs jetting in all directions. Bubbles formed by the millions, as a result of the rapid motion, and travelled up the lengths of his thin legs. The boy's shorts, pushed back by the water, had bunched themselves high up against his hips. Despite the fact that the view was distorted by the bubbles and moving water, Brady couldn't help himself but to briefly gaze upon the boy's buttock. Of course, guilt and shame forced him to look away a moment later, which was when the need for air urged him back to the surface.

"Get his legs, Brady!" shouted Mark, struggling to sustain his hold on his slippery little brother.

Struggling to collect himself, Brady barely had time to shake the water from his ears when he was suddenly bombarded with the thrashing waves, created by James's kicking heels. As a result, Brady's vision was obstructed, and the water was beginning to burn his eyes. In desperation, he jerked forward and fell onto his knees, clamping the younger boy's legs under his arms.

"NO FAIR!" protested James through a fit of giggles. "MUM! Mum, help ME!"

Already chugging the remaining suds of her third drink, Brittany slammed the bottle down on the wooden table and jumped to her feet. "LET HIM GO!" she demanded, placing her left hand on her hip and, with a tea-towel miraculously in hand, pointed toward the pool with her right.

Both Brady and Mark dropped James instantaneously and dropped their jaws. A subtle "ploop" was barely heard from between them as James's body fell down into the pool. "Sorry Mum!" bellowed Mark, suddenly beginning to giggle.

Brady stared at Mark in shock. Still trying to determine how he should react, Mark's laughter had contradicted his initial verdict. "Is she...?"

"Drunk?" Mark nodded. "Me-mum's the cheapest drunk in the world, I swear."

Leaning to her side, reaching for a cracker, Brittany whipped her tea-towel back over her shoulder, nodded and sat back down next to Natalie. "Do you think they tiddled?"

Natalie cocked her eyebrow, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Tiddled. You know, like peed?" explained Brittany, shaking her head and reaching for her empty bottle. "Sorry -- I'll rephrase. Do you think I scared them shitless?"

"I heard that!" shouted Mark, still standing next to the pool.

Sighing with amusement, Brittany glanced at Natalie. "Figures the little wanker only inherits my ears."

"Hey Brady," said Mark, stepping into the pool. "Come here for a second."

Brady turned his head, from facing Brittany, towards Mark. "For what?"

"Just come here, would yuh?" urged Mark with a grin on his face. "I wanna show you something."

"No! Don't trust him!" warned James, sliding over the edge of the pool and onto the grass. "Last time he said that to me I had to get a haircut..."

Before Brady could question any further, Mark had crept up beside him. In the moments between query and contemplation, Brady was suddenly forced under the water. He could hear the muffled laughter from Mark above as well as feel the sturdy grip against his head and shoulders.

All Brady could think about was that Mark was touching him. He wanted so badly to revel in the moment's intimacy; however, the need for air quickly returned. Skidding backwards, along the bottom of the pool, Brady twisted his body and rocketed himself out from underneath the water. Unready for the sudden movement, Mark was thrown backwards as the force of his friend's body, pushing back against his hands, became too great.

Just as Brady resurfaced, Mark dropped, with a loud GLOOMP noise, to the bottom of the pool. Tickled with the sound, Brady began to laugh, just as James jumped back into the pool, and watched as Mark struggled to find regain his footing.

"What's going on?" asked James, smiling and enthralled. "Did you just beat up my brother?" he continued, "It's pretty easy, huh?"

"Shove-it, you!" said Mark while pushing himself back up to his feet, using the rim of the pool for assistance. "I slipped; that's all."

Without warning, James tackled his brother, causing Mark to slip backwards toward the edge of the pool. Fearing that the two were going to flip over the rim, Brady jumped forward to brace himself behind Mark. In the commotion, all three boys lost track of the everyone's movement.

Disaster quickly struck, and Brady lost his balanced and collapsed into Mark, forcing him into James. Within the most chaotic second that either of the boys had ever experienced, a massive splash, followed by screeches that could break the sound barrier and limbs that miraculously became impossibly tangled, they fell as a single, destructive entity.

The coolness of the water engulfing them came as a shock, but the obscurely-muffled sounds of bubbles escaping to the surface proved to be more alarming. Mark, especially, was affected by the foreign sensation; so much so, that it felt as if his blood were beginning to boil. Everything inside of him seemed to glow of red, and his heart-rate increased almost tenfold. He could feel Brady, or was it James, as hands or feet slid against his body in all directions. The slightest touch, from anything, seemed to be intensified, and Mark began to panic.

Thrashing his arms and legs in all directions possible, Mark shoved away anything that was near him. At that moment there was no difference between friend and foe. All that mattered was his survival.

"What's your problem?!" bellowed James as he rubbed his shoulder after being punched and then pushed aside.

After being kicked in the head, exactly where the hose had hit him, Brady had thrown himself backwards, away from immediate danger. He had watched, from a short distance, as Mark was replaced by an unfamiliar-madman. His friend's skin was red, his face bordering blue, but his desperation was what stood out the most. It was like he was being attacked by an unseen force. Even after he and James were removed, Mark continued his monstrous actions. He screamed and howled as if being eaten alive, leaving Brady scared and confused.

Suddenly and unintentionally, Brady's stare was directed at a very obvious bulge in Mark's shorts. Though oddly stimulated by the sight, his immediate reaction was to call for help. Turning away from Mark, Brady boxed his hands around his mouth and yelled for help. Meanwhile, Mark screeched at the top of his lungs and clutched his hands to his chest and throat as he collapsed into the water.