Perfect

Michael pounded his fist down on the steering wheel, a loud horn blaring out at the tall, white house before him.

"I'm coming!" There was a slight hint of anger in his friend's tone as the older boy walked towards Michael's red pickup truck. Well, it technically wasn't his, it was his parents', but he liked to pretend that it was his.

Michael watched as his friend opened the passenger side door and slid onto the seat beside him, loudly slamming the door behind him.

"Why are you so worked up, Blake?" Michael asked, turning his body towards his friend, leaning his arm against the steering wheel. The older boy glared at him slightly with his deep brown eyes before rolling them and sharply turning his head away, flipping his shaggy, light brown hair as he did so.

"It's nothing," Blake snapped, looking out the window. "Just drive."

Michael sighed as he shifted the truck into reverse. He was used to Blake's erratic behavior as he knew that he was often under a lot of stress and pressure. Not only was he the star quarterback of their football team, he was also the only son of Thomas Jenner, the town sheriff, and Carol Jenner, the head of the parent committee... and practically every other committee that their small town had. They had both been perfect students and they expected their son to be the same, much to his regret.
Blake sighed as he thought about the fight that he had just had with his parents.

"Where are you going?" his father had demanded.

"Out," was his curt reply as he slid his letterman jacket on and headed for the door.

"Blake Thomas Jenner!" his father's voice was stern, making him stop in his tracks. "I asked you a question, to which I expect a real answer!" Just then, a loud honk sounded through the house.

"Michael's here," Blake mumbled, heading for the door again, but it was suddenly blocked by his father's large, bulky frame.

"You still have not answered my question," he said, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

"I'm going to hang out with Michael," Blake snapped, trying to move past his father.

"And when will you be home?" his father persisted, not letting him by.

"I don't know!" Blake exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

"That is not an answer, Blake," his father reminded him.

"I guess it really all depends," Blake sneered, starting to get frustrated with his father. "Cause once they kick us out of the bar for being too wasted, we'll probably drive around for a while, on the sidewalks, of course, and see how many people we can scare and try not to run over. Then maybe we'll go pick up some chicks and have some real fun." Blake roughly pushed past his dad, his eyes on the door, but was stopped once again as his father roughly grabbed his arm.

"Blake-" Anger was lacing through his voice and when he looked up, Blake could see his father's cheeks starting to turn red.

"Chill, Dad," Blake rolled his eyes as he tore his arm out of his father's grip. "I was kidding. I would never do anything to tarnish the perfect Jenner name. Now if you'll excuse me, Michael's waiting for me."

And with that, he turned and pushed open the door, slamming it back against the side of the house. As he walked down the driveway, another honk sounded from the red truck parked there and Blake found himself yelling, "I'm coming!" He threw open the passenger side door, slamming it shut behind him as he slid into the seat beside the lanky, dark haired kid behind the wheel, the golden-brown eyed boy that he called his best friend.

As they drove down the road, Blake felt a pair of eyes on him and with a sigh, he turned to look at Michael, who was stealing small glances at him as he drove.

"What?" Blake snapped.

"Everything okay?" Michael asked. He was always so concerned for Blake and it did comfort him slightly knowing that he had at least one person looking out for him.

"I'm fine," Blake sighed, looking back out the window. "It's just my parents. You know, the usual."

Michael nodded, though he knew that his friend wasn't watching.

"So," he said instead, trying to change the subject. "How are things with you and Aylin?" This made Blake perk up a bit. Aylin was the one good thing that he had going for him right now. Blake never usually stayed with a girl for more than three days, a week tops, but his relationship with Aylin had broken through that norm, their one month anniversary of being together being just a couple of days away. The same day as their big championship game.

"Things are good," Blake smiled. Michael noticed this and smiled as well, happy with the effect Aylin had on him. It seemed like she was the one thing that kept him grounded. They really were a perfect match.

Unfortunately, Michael couldn't help the thought from crossing his mind. He hurriedly pushed the thought away, knowing that his best friend's girlfriend was totally off bounds. But even that knowledge couldn't stop the butterflies that appeared in his stomach whenever she was around.

"So, have you done 'it' yet?" Michael asked tentatively, not fully wanting to know the answer.

"Not yet, but soon," Blake smirked. "We're planning on doing it after the victory party on Saturday, you know, since it's our 'one month anniversary' and all." He seemed to find this amusing. "Oh, by the way, did you find someplace for us to have that yet? The victory party?"

"Yeah, actually, I did," Michael smiled, turning down onto a familiar dirt road. "Mr. Ulrich said that we could have it in his barn since we've been helping him out around the farm. That's actually where we're heading now. He called me and asked if we could help him move some bales of hay. I figured that you wouldn't mind, especially now, since throwing around the bales helps you vent out your frustration with your parents. And I just really needed to get out of my own house."

"Ali problems again?" Blake asked, sympathetic to his friend's sensitive predicament.

"Sort of," Michael sighed, pulling up in front of the old, wooden barn belonging to Mr. Ulrich. "I finally convinced her to talk to Lily."

"Lily..." the name sounded familiar but Blake struggled to place it. "Oh wait, wasn't she the girl that-"

"Yes, she was," Michael cut him off, avoiding his eye contact as he shifted the truck into park. "They're going to talk through things... and I just didn't really want to be around there when it happened. I didn't want Ali using me to help her talk to Lily. This is something that they have to work through themselves."

"I totally understand," Blake nodded slowly, opening the door and hopping down out of the truck.

"Michael! Blake!" a familiar voice called out. They both looked up to see a tall, lanky man walk out of the barn. He had short, dark hair, which matched the pair of black framed glasses that sat over his dark brown eyes.

"Hey, Mr. Ulrich!" Michael smiled, lifting a hand in greeting.

"Now Michael," the man laughed. "How many times have I told you to just call me Rob?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ulri- umm, Rob," Michael laughed. "Force of habit, I guess." Blake smiled as he watched his friend getting flustered in front of their boss. Michael was very proper and was what most people would call a true gentleman. He struggled to call any adult by their first name, often reverting back to calling them Mr. or Mrs. so-and-so.

"So," Blake said, turning his attention back to the older man. "What did you need us to do today?" Michael smiled over at his friend, thankful for the change of subject.

"There's a couple of bales out in the field," Rob smiled, turning his attention on Blake. "If you guys could bring them back here to the barn, that would be great."

"Yep, no problem," Blake smiled. "Shall we?" He turned and hopped back into the truck, Michael following his lead.

"We'll be back in a flash with those bales," he called out to Rob as he started to drive the truck out towards the field.

Within minutes, the two boys were standing behind the old pickup, loading the heavy bales of golden hay into the back of it. It didn't take long for the sweat to start to show on their shirts as the hot rays of the sun beat down on their backs.

"I think that's the last of it," Michael said as he threw the last bale onto the back of the truck.

"Good," Blake exclaimed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "It's boiling out here! I say we go dump these, grab Aylin, and go down to the pond for a swim!"

"Sounds good to me!" Michael smiled. They hopped back into the truck and drove back to the barn where Rob was waiting for them.

"Done already?" he joked as the two boys got out of the truck.

"I told you that we'd be back in a flash!" Blake flashed him a smile as he opened the back hatch of the truck. He hopped up into the back and grabbed one of the bales, quickly passing it to Michael, who started to pile it over against the wall where Rob directed him to put it. Spurred by the idea of going to the pond, they quickly finished the job and got back in the truck.

"Thanks for your help, boys!" Rob called out as they started to drive away.

"No problem!" Blake called back out the window, waving goodbye. As soon as they were gone from his sight, Blake quickly pulled out his phone and texted Aylin.

Blake: Hey babe, me and Michael are going to the pond. You in? :)

Within seconds, he got his reply.

Aylin: I'm in! I'll meet you guys there!

Blake: You sure? We could pick you up...

Aylin: No no no. It's ok. I'm fine. I'm going to bike over. See you soon!

Blake: Alright, see you soon :)

Blake closed his phone and slid it back into his pocket.

"Ok, Aylin is in," Blake told Michael. "She's going to meet us there."

"Sounds good," Michael smiled, happy that Aylin was going to come. She always made things lighter, more fun.

"I'm glad that you two get on so well," Blake commented, noticing Michael's smile. "It would suck if my best bud didn't get along with my girl."

"Me too," Michael replied softly. "You could almost say it's as if we were meant to be friends."

Meant to be friends... He hid the small sigh from Blake. And maybe even more.