Cameron's house was on the other side of town, where the houses were bigger and the lawns were greener. I had to find my way around the maze of identical homes. After losing my way a few times, I decided to the GPS on my phone, finally finding his house at the end of a cul-de-sac.

"Hey," Cameron greeted when he opened the door, letting me inside. "I was starting to think you got lost."

"I did, actually," I confessed, a nervous laugh escaping my lips. "I suck at directions."

"Luckily for you I have a method for following directions," he said.

He lead me into the dining room where two other people were seated. They both had their Algebra 2 books out, but their focus was on their cellphones.

"Alright, now that everyone is here," Cameron said, grabbing a small, plastic bucket from the table. "Phones off and in the bucket."

"Really?" I asked, grabbing my phone from my pocket.

A girl with pin straight black hair and bangs, shot me a dirty look. "Yes, really," she snarled, dropping her phone into the bucket.

"I take tutoring very seriously," he told me as I placed my cell in the bucket.

He motioned for me to take a seat at the table and I did. Opting to sit next to the husky guy with a buzz cut rather than Bangs. I pulled out my textbook, notebook and a pencil, preparing for the lesson.

Cameron started going over quadratic expressions, explaining it way better than Mr. Tozzi did. It seemed like only a few minutes had passed before the timer went off, signaling the end of our session.

The other two—Darrin and the Jessica that Miles warned me about—quickly gathered their things and left. I, on the other hand, had one more matter of business to handle before enduring my forty-five minute bus ride home.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

Cameron nodded, pointing down the hall. "Last door on the left."

I walked down the hall, locating the last door. However, when I opened the door I didn't see the porcelain throne but instead a bedroom. A messy bedroom. Occupied by a black and white cat that was perched on a dresser and a guy sitting on the window seat looking out at the dark clouds that filled the sky.

Just as I was about to walk away, he started to speak. That's when I realized the mystery guy was Miles. At first, I thought he was talking to me but I soon realized he wasn't.

"Dad's pissed at me again," He told, who? Was he on the phone? Was he talking to the cat? Himself?

"Threatened to pull me off the football team," he continued. "All because I got C on a test. This your fault, you know? You set the bar too high, Rose."

Who was Rose? Was that who his tattoo was for? I was so engrossed in my own mind that I didn't notice the cat about to pounce on me until it was too late.

I let out a loud yelp as the sneaky feline jumped on me. Losing my footing, I crashed to the floor. My cover was officially blown.

"You spying on me, Mermaid?" Miles now stood over me now, a playful grin on his face as he scooped up the cat. "Thanks for standing guard, Oreo."

He then held a hand out to me, helping me up from the hard wood floor.

"I wasn't spying," I told him, dusting myself off. "I was looking for the bathroom."

"Across the hall," he said, nodding in its direction.

Left, not right. I really sucked at directions.

"What was that noise?" Cameron asked, appearing at the end of the hallway.

"My fault," Miles lied.

Accepting this, Cameron disappeared back around the corner. Leaving Miles and I in a thick awkward silence. Was he going to ask me what if I overheard? Should I bring up that I overheard?

Not knowing what else to say, I said nothing. I took a few steps towards the bathroom, only to notice I was being followed.

Turning, I came face to face with Miles and Oreo.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Just making sure you don't get lost again," he said, smiling innocently.

"Funny," I said sarcastically, before ducking into the bathroom.

When I finished my business, I walked back into the dining room to retrieve my things. Unfortunately, they were missing.

"Uhm, where's my bag?"

Cameron looked up from his bowl of Reese's Puff cereal. "Miles took it to the car," he responded, pointing with his milky spoon.

I stepped out into the frigid night air just in time to see Miles' black car pulling out of the garage.

Walking over, I poked my head in through the window. "You stole my bag?" I asked.

"Get in," he said, disregarding my question. "Unless you want to sit in the cold waiting for the bus."

As if the universe wanted to prove his point, a gust of bone-chilling wind hit me, pushing my curls into my face. Tucking the unruly piece of hair back behind my ear, I took Miles up on his offer and climbed into the passenger seat.

"Where to?" he asked as I put my seatbelt on.

"Hazelnut," I said, glancing over at him.

As he backed out I noticed the familiar grey beanie on his head.

"Am I ever going to get my beanie back?"

His lip curled up into smile, making the corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughed. "Am I ever going to get my shirt back?"

Right, the shirt. My wall. With the hectic week I had while working on the uniform, I had forgotten all about that.

Pulling my bag from the backseat, I unzipped the pocket on the side, confirming what I had thought. The shirt was still where I had put it the day he had given it to me.

"Is that it?" He chuckled, resuming the drive. "You've just been carrying it around with you all this time? I don't know if I should be flattered or creeped out."

The size of his ego never ceased to amaze me.

"I've been busy," I said. "I forgot it was in there. I haven't even bought the paint yet."

"We can get it now," he suggested. "There's a Walmart right up the street."

If I didn't get it then. I was sure I'd forget again. So, I nodded, agreeing to the plan.

We arrived at Walmart and naturally the first thing we run into is a load of Halloween themed items. Their marketing strategy worked on Miles, who snagged a few bags of assorted candy, tossing them into the cart that I had the task of pushing.

"Are those for trick-or-treaters?"

"Of course." Is what his mouth said, but his face said "yeah right".

"Liar," I said, shaking my head at him.

He simply flashed me a cheeky grin as we entered the home improvement part of the store. We spent a good fifteen minutes looking at paint before deciding on the two perfect blues.

"While we're here we might as well get our costumes," he said, placing the paint cans in the basket.

"Costumes?"

"Really?" he said in disbelief. "You have a terrible memory."

"Correct," I agreed. "So, enlighten me."

"You agreed to dress up with me for Halloween," he explained. "You're going to be the jelly to my peanut butter."

"Oh."

Last week really did a number on me, if I forgot something as important as that. Those eyes of his really did a number on me as well if I agreed to the costume idea.

"Now you're catching up," he teased. "I think the costumes are this way." He took over pushing the basket down the aisles.

"What exactly is the point of this bet?" I asked, walking beside him.

"So I can win a fifty dollars," he said matter-of-factly.

"No, I mean why'd Owen make it a point that you couldn't dress up with Vivian?"

He was silent as he thought about this. "Well, it's kind of a long story," he said, finally. "But the short version is that most girls think Vivian and I are dating. So, they keep their distance from me."

My mind flashed back to the death stare Vivian was giving her mom. If she was that intense with her mom, who knew what she'd do to a random girl moving in on her boyfriend. Sorry, her friend.

"I'm going to survive this little arrangement, right?" I questioned, suddenly rethinking my decision. "She's not the crazy, stalker ex-girlfriend type, is she?"

"No, Vivian is—" he came to an abrupt stop. "—here."

"What?" I looked up to see Vivian standing at the end of the costume aisle, wearing devil horns and holding a pitchfork. It was an unsettling sight.

"Miles?" Vivian walked over to us, eyeing me up and down before turning back to him.

"What are you two doing here together?" She asked, wearing an obviously forced smile on her face.

"We're just doing some shopping," he replied, casually.

That weird, unspoken tension I felt yesterday was back. I wanted to slowly back out and remove myself from the situation but couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Right," she said, her plastic smile wavering just slightly. "Well, I guess I'll let you two get back to it. Call me later?"

Miles nodded, confirming their phone date. Vivian turned and left, throwing the devil horns and pitchfork down haphazardly in the aisle. I could feel the heat of her anger even long after she was gone.

That awkward tension still lingered around us. Miles didn't seem to feel it as he pointed out that the costumes we needed were in stock. I was starting to realize that he didn't pick up on a lot of things or at least he was good ignoring it.

The rest of the trip was short and pretty silent. On the drive to my house the only sound that filled the car was Miles playlist, which seemed to mostly consist of The 1975.

When he pulled up to my house, we got of the car, going to the trunk to get the paint.

"Vivian are just friends," he said, handing me the two paint cans.

My brow creased as I looked at him curiously. "Trust me, I know."

"I'm serious." He told me. "We are. Just friends."

"Are you trying you convince me or yourself?"

He paused, my question seemed to have taken him by surprise. It was different seeing beyond his usual cocky attitude. I've been getting glimpses of this non-arrogant side of him all day.

His legendary smirk graced his lips again. "Goodnight, Mermaid."

With that, he got into his car and left. Leaving me slightly confused.