"So what is hydrolysis again?" Bryce asked me, running his fingers through his hair.

"It's a compound reacting with water."

"Yeah, that's right," Bryce muttered, flipping through his AP Chemistry book.

"Should we take a break?" I suggested.

"No, I've got to get some studying in," Bryce declined. "I've got practice in an hour."

We made it about five more minutes before Bryce rested his head on my shoulder, closing his eyes.

"We're taking a break," I said, kissing the top of his head.

"It's so much information," he groaned.

"That's why you can't start studying three days before the test," I chastised.

"I've been so busy."

"Baseball can't consume your life."

He didn't argue, instead just continuing to rest on my shoulder.

"How's practice going?" I asked, as I trailed my fingers up and down his upper-arm.

"It's going."

"That doesn't sound encouraging."

"I'm not as out of shape as I thought I'd be. But Preston is more in shape than I am," he said, naming the second-string pitcher on the team.

It'd never been a competition between Bryce and Preston for starting pitcher. Everyone just knew that Bryce Harrison was the better pitcher.

"I've just got to play the catch up game is all," Bryce said, letting out a long sigh. "And it sucks."

Bryce's bedroom door opened, and Clayton came sauntering in.

Lately he's been acting as though Bryce and I acting all coupley in front of him doesn't faze him.

Ever since his biological father's been showing up in the most random of places, it's as though nothing fazes him anymore. He's just a blank slate.

We've always tried to tone it down in front of him. Snuggle less, kiss less, that sort of thing. But lately he just seems to turn a blind eye.

"Did you bring me a smoothie?" Bryce asked, picking himself up off of me.

"I brought you a protein shake," Clayton corrected, handing it to him.

Bryce nodded, opening the top and chugging some of it down.

"So how does it feel?" I asked Clayton, as he picked up Bryce's AP Chemistry book.

"What?" Clayton asked.

"You only have three more days left," I reminded him. "Then you're free of high school. Forever."

He just shrugged, flipping through Bryce's AP Chemistry book.

"We're going to have to celebrate," Bryce commented, as he finished off half of his protein shake.

"I'm not really interested."

Bryce had continually tried to break Clayton's emotionless façade. But Clayton's walls were thick.

It was like the more he saw his biological dad, the more he withdrew from the outside world.

Bryce tipped back the rest of the protein shake. "It's the last day of your Senior year," Bryce reminded him, slamming the empty container down on his nightstand. "We're going out."

Clayton didn't comment, tossing Bryce's AP Chemistry book back down on the bed. "You almost ready to head out for practice?"

Clayton was no longer an actual member of the Highlander Eagles travel team, the team Bryce pitched for, but he still went to practices and helped coach. At least until he left for Florida in July.

"Yeah," Bryce said, with a soft sigh. "I'll get ready." He kissed my cheek before hopping off his bed, gathering up his baseball gear and disappearing.

Silence stretched between the room, and I continued to flip through my AP Chemistry book, trying to ignore the awkward tension.

I glanced up at Clayton, where was leaning against Bryce's desk, scrolling through his phone.

I missed our banter, the way we used to trade insults and basically drive Bryce, and each other, insane.

Now he barely talked unless talked to. And unless it was about baseball or something related to it.

That wasn't the Clayton Johnson I knew. That wasn't the Clayton Johnson I'd known for the past 2 years.

But a couple of encounters with his biological dad, and suddenly he's a completely different person.

I couldn't help but wonder how a single person held that kind of power over him.

"You ready?" Bryce asked, coming back into the room.

Clayton tucked his phone back into his room, offering him a nod.

"When are you free to study again?" Bryce asked me.

"I'm always free for you."

Clayton strolled out of the room.

Bryce just offered me a tentative smile.

"I might stay over Clayton's tonight," Bryce said, taking his left hand using it to rub his right upper-arm. "See if I can get through to him."

Bryce has been staying over at Clayton's every other night practically. I don't know what the two of them talk about, but it doesn't seem to do much good to me.

"Okay," I agreed. "We can meet up afterschool again to cram your brain with more Chemistry."

"Sounds exciting," Bryce said, giving me a quick kiss before leaving. "Lock the door before you leave!" he called over his shoulder.

"Yeah, sure!" I called over him, as he left me alone in his bedroom.

~*~

"It's unfair," Bryce said, slamming his locker shut.

"What did that poor locker every do to you?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

"The worst day of my life happens to be the best day of yours," Bryce said to Clayton.

"I wouldn't call it the best day of my life," Clayton declined.

"It's your last day of school," Bryce reminded him. "Ever."

"I'll be in college in just a few short months," Clayton reminded him.

A hint of sass. I knew Clayton was in there somewhere.

"Last day of high school," Bryce amended. "What I'd to do get rid of this hellhole."

The bell rang, signaling the start of school.

Signaling that it was 7:25, meaning that our AP Exam was in exactly 35 minutes.

"You're still coming over afterschool," Bryce reminded Clayton.

"So you say."

"And we're going out," Bryce added.

"I don't know what the fuck you think we're going to do."

Bryce just smirked.

"I don't have a car," Clayton reminded him.

"I told you I'd take care of it," Bryce reminded him.

Clayton headed down the hall, running his fingers through his hair.

"He's still not the same," I said to Bryce.

"He will be. It's been four days since Clyde has made one of his creepy appearances. Clayton just needs to level out and come back to his senses."

We reached my Homeroom.

"He was like this before. It's no big deal," Bryce added.

"He was like this before?" I questioned.

He checked his phone. "I've got to go if I'm going to get to class. But I'll see you in the AP Chem test."

I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. "Good luck babe."

He pulled me in for a real kiss. "I'm going to need a lot more than a good luck babe to get through this test."

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling me close to me.

"Sophie," my Homeroom teacher warned.

I pressed my lips against his for just a few moments before pulling away. "Good luck babe."

"Better," he agreed, with a smirk.

"Separate," my teacher ordered.

I giggled, planting one last kiss on Bryce's cheek before disappearing inside.

I just needed to make it through this test. And then I could breathe again.

~*~

"That actually wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be," I commented to Caroline, as we were finally allowed to talk in the AP testing room.

She stared at me as though I was talking a foreign language.

"What?" I asked, with a laugh.

"I just about Christmas treed that entire test, and you're telling me that it wasn't too bad?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "I don't know, maybe I just get Chemistry."

"Yeah well screw you."

I laughed again, glancing over to where Bryce was stretched out in his seat, staring at the ceiling.

"I think your boyfriend might be dead," Caroline informed me, with a laugh.

"He wasn't ready," I whispered, in the spirit of Kevin Hart.

The two of us cracked up.

"You guys will be dismissed at noon," Mrs. Trumble informed us, our AP testing proctor.

I checked the clock. It was a quarter till.

"Hey, so can you do me a favor this afternoon?" Bryce asked, sitting down on top of my desk.

"What favor would that be?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

"Can you pick Clayton up from his house at 5 and bring him over to mine?"

Since when did I become a chauffer? Especially for Clayton Johnson?

Bryce must've seen the expression on my face, because he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please?"

"Why can't he just drive himself?"

"His car is in the shop. And his dad is going to be home, but he won't be able to bring him over until later."

"And what are you going to do once Clayton gets to your house?"

"He can just drive my car."

I shook my head, letting out a long sigh. "I guess."

Bryce planted a kiss on my cheek. "Thank you. I really owe you."

"I expect something amazing for this."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Lips to yourselves," Mrs. Trumble chastised, giving the two of us looks.

"Sorry," Bryce said, with a smirk. "That was my bad."

She just humphed, before lowering her gaze back down to her book.

~*~

I couldn't get over how perfect Clayton's house looked on the outside.

It was literally like a house you'd see on a magazine cover.

I rang the doorbell, folding my arms across my chest as I stared at the white porch swing, lightly swaying in the wind.

I want to take a picture of his house just to say that it really does exist.

Clayton's dad, Taylor, opened the door.

"Sophie right?" he asked, with a half-smile.

I nodded.

"Come on in."

I followed him to the kitchen, which was filled with empty grocery bags.

"Sorry, I just got back from the store," he apologized. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thank you," I declined, looking around for Clayton.

"He just got in the shower," Clayton's dad informed me, with a shake of his head.

Just my luck. I go out of my way to do something nice for Clayton Johnson and he's running late.

"Take a seat," Clayton's dad said, gesturing towards the barstools that lined the kitchen counter.

He turned his back to me for a few moments before producing a cutting board. "You're Bryce's girlfriend?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, we've heard a lot about you."

"Thank you?"

He laughed, pulling some long-stemmed carrots out of the refrigerator. "I'm Taylor by the way. I don't think we officially met last time."

"Nice to meet you," I said, with a small smile.

"I'm Clayton's unofficial dad," he continued, with a raw smile as he placed the carrots on the cutting board. "Dad by paperwork."

"Those are the best kind, because they chose you."

He chuckled, digging through the drawer next to him for I assume a knife to cut the carrots with. "That's very true."

He produced the cutting knife, glancing up at me. "Yeah, I met Clayton when he was 13."

5 years ago now.

"I can't have kids," he continued, as he started chopping up the carrots. "So I'm not sure what I expecting when I married into this, but I don't think it was that."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"He's come a long way though," Taylor added. "Much better."

He calls that better?

Taylor laughed at my expression. "I'm guessing you don't agree?"

How do I say this without insulting his son?

"He's a dick," Taylor filled in.

Well.

"Kind of," I agreed.

"When I first met Clayton he couldn't even look me in the eye," Taylor said, pausing his chopping. "Imagine having a conversation with a kid who would stare at the floor when talking to you."

Clayton Johnson? Are we even talking about the same person?

"And it's a strange concept," Taylor said, shoving his chopped carrots off the side as he began on a new set of carrots. "I didn't encourage Clayton to talk back exactly, but I had to teach him how to stand up for himself, that it was okay to have his own opinion. And usually parents teach their kids not to do much of that."

I couldn't help but laugh. Because that's true. Most parents teach their kids not to talk back and to respect them.

"But Clyde had beat..." he trailed off, wincing for a moment, "instilled, he'd instilled in Clayton that he was the ultimate authority. And that he wasn't to be questioned. So when I came into the picture, that's how Clayton viewed authoritative figures."

I looked over my shoulder towards the back hallway where Clayton was before looking back at Taylor.

That's awful.

"I remember standing in the grocery store one time," Taylor said, looking up at me. "And Clayton was bugging me about wanting Oreos, about a year after I'd married his mom. And as we went up and down the aisles I kept telling him no. And so we were in the cookie aisle and Clayton was getting on my last nerve, so I ended up snapping at him. And he just froze, his gaze sliding to the floor. And that was it. I remember kneeling down next to him in the store and asking him, do you want those Oreos? And he shook his head. I asked him again and he said no. And I just felt so bad that I bought them anyways. And the kid didn't eat a single one of them, I ate the whole package by myself."

I could feel my stomach twisting up in knots.

"If I ever come face-to-face with Clyde..." Taylor started, shaking his head. "I'll be the one that ends up in jail this time."

I could see the fierceness in Taylor's eyes, the way that he wanted to protect Clayton as though he was his own.

"So that's what I mean when I say he's come a long way," Taylor finished. "He may not always be pleasant to be around, but he'll put up an argument with me and stand up for what he wants. And the Clayton I met 5 years ago? He wouldn't have even dreamed of it."

I'd always viewed Clayton as a major dick that I was forced to put up with because of Bryce.

Perspective is everything.

"And now..." Taylor started, shaking his head.

And now Clayton wouldn't even look me in the eye.

"He hasn't even asked me if he can go out tonight," Taylor informed me.

"He hasn't?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"He will," Taylor said, resuming his carrot chopping. "But the return of Clyde has messed with his head."

I think we've all noticed that.

"I mean, even before Clyde came back, Clayton still had his quirks," Taylor continued.

"His quirks?"

I couldn't help it. Clayton's past peaked my interest.

"He can't miss curfew," Taylor informed me, glancing up from his carrots. "Or do anything that we tell him he can't do. Which is why I try not to tell him that he can't do anything, because I feel like I'm manipulating the kid. But, to this day, he still can't defy authority. So we may get into it about his curfew, and he may pout and sulk about it, but at the end of the night he's going to come home by it."

Oh my God.

Before Taylor could say anything else, Clayton came out of the back, his hair still wet from his shower.

"You made the lady wait on you," Taylor chastised.

"Sorry," Clayton muttered.

Taylor chuckled, taking the carrots he'd been chopping and dumping them into a bowl.

Clayton leaned against the counter, staring at the floor.

Taylor glanced over at him.

"Can I go out tonight?" Clayton muttered.

"No," Taylor declined.

I raised my eyebrows at him in surprise.

"Ask me again," Taylor suggested. "This time make eye contact with me instead of looking at the most interesting tile on the floor."

Damn.

Clayton slowly dragged his gaze from the floor to meet Taylor's.

Taylor raised his eyebrows in anticipation.

"Can..." Clayton started, before pausing. "Can I..." And then his gaze dropped back down to the floor.

"Is it because I said no?" Taylor asked, his tone softer. "I take it back."

Clayton took in a deep breath, snapping his eyes up to meet Taylor's again. "Can I... Can I go out... t-tonight?"

Taylor nodded, a half-smile on his face. "Sure. Be home by curfew."

Clayton rolled his eyes, and a full-blown smile spread across Taylor's face.

A small act of defiance by Clayton Johnson.

"Okay," Clayton agreed.

"Alright, don't keep this poor girl waiting any longer," Taylor instructed. "Are you ready to go?"

Clayton nodded, glancing over at me.

"Have fun tonight," Taylor instructed. "Be careful."

"Okay," Clayton muttered.

I grabbed my keys. "It was nice meeting you again," I said to Taylor, with a smile.

"Come by anytime," he said, with a wave of his knife.

Clayton followed me out to my car, taking the passenger seat.

I started the car, humming to myself as I buckled in.

Clayton hunched over in his seat, his phone held tightly in his hands. But the screen was black.

He was raggedly breathing, his arm muscles tensed.

I think that Clayton Johnson was on the verge of some sort of breakdown.

I drove over to Bryce's house, glancing over at Clayton every few moments.

But he never moved, staring his blank phone screen.

I pulled into Bryce's driveway a few minutes later, shutting off the car and looking over at Clayton.

He fumbled with the car door for a few moments before robotically stepping out.

Something was definitely wrong.

We approached Bryce's front door, and then Clayton stopped.

"I'm just..." he started, before trailing off, and then taking a seat on Bryce's front porch steps, in the same position he'd been in on the car ride over.

I let myself into Bryce's house.

Bryce was in the living room playing Destiny, Dawson's head resting on his thigh.

"Hey," he said, without turning around.

"There's something wrong with Clayton."

Bryce paused his game, glancing over at me. "Wrong with him?"

"I don't know."

"Well what do you mean?"

"We were at his place and Taylor made him ask to go out tonight."

Bryce chuckled, nodding. "Taylor's a stickler about that. He made Clayton make eye contact and stuff?"

I nodded. "And at first Clayton wouldn't do it, so Taylor told him no."

Bryce's eyebrows furrowed. "He said no?"

I nodded. "And then made Clayton ask again."

"Taylor fucked up," Bryce said, standing to his feet. "He usually just makes Clayton ask again. Telling Clayton no made him defy authority and ask again." Bryce pushed past me. "Where is Clayton?"

"Outside, front porch."

Bryce glanced outside, where Clayton was still in the exact same place.

And then he picked up his phone, making a phone call.

"Yeah," Bryce agreed. "Yeah, he's freaking the fuck out."

Who was he talking to like that?

"Okay, yeah. We'll wait on you," Bryce promised, before hanging up. "That was Taylor, he's coming over."

"What for?" I asked.

"I can't fix that," Bryce said, gesturing towards Clayton. "He's having some sort of mental breakdown over his dad and he needs Taylor to tell him it's okay to do whatever it is he was asking to do."

I glanced back towards the window towards Clayton. "Does this happen often?"

"Not so much anymore. It did when we were younger. But Clayton's gotten better at asking to do stuff and standing up for himself essentially."