We parked next to a charming, little restaurant in the middle of a busy shopping strip. Hundreds of people walking in different directions with family and friends. Everyone laughing or smiling or even yelling. I felt out of place in a city this big.

We headed into the restaurant and got into the long wait line. "Usually the line moves fast here so it shouldn't be too long." Clay said. I just nodded my head. Standing shoulder to shoulder like we were, I realized how tall he really was. I was above average height myself but he was head and some taller.

"How tall are you?" I asked.

He looked down at me and smirked. "6'3." My mouth formed an 'o' as I nodded. That's tall.

I heard the bell ring behind us indicating someone was coming in. I turned to see a pretty, short girl looking down at her phone. She had shiny, long strawberry blonde hair and was wearing an adorable Sunday dress that fell around her petite figure. I wish I looked like her. Clay turned to look down at me then to the girl I was looking at. His eyes widened and his face went pale. He immediately turned back straight and moved his arm around my shoulder to make me do the same.

"Clay?" I heard the girl behind us.

He let out a sigh and turned around bringing me with him, still having his arm around me. I didn't particularly dislike it.

"Hey, Maria. It's been a while."

She looked between Clay and me and noticed his arm around my shoulder. Her face quickly lost its glowing smile.

"Who is this?" She asked innocently.

"This is Anja." He said. Arm still around me. By now I realized what he was doing.

"I don't care about the whores name I just need to know who she is." She bit out. Aggressive?

"I'm his girlfriend. And who are you again?" I said with a fake smile. Clay squeezed my shoulder in shock at my acting.

"Oh. I'm Maria. Clay not tell you about me?" She said with a sharp attitude.

"I don't care about a whores name, I just need to know who you are." My smile dropped as I repeated her words. Maria's mouth stood tall in shock.

She gave me a nasty look then snapped back to Clay with a smile. "You never unblocked my number, puddy." Puddy?

"And he never will." I interrupted.

"Next in line please!" The cashier yelled.

"Sorry, we have to go Maria." Clay said. He turned us around together with his arm still on me and we walked away. I heard the bell ring as Maria left. He leaned down to my ear and whispered "Thank you for that" and then dropped his arm. I miss the warmth.

"It's alright. You looked really uncomfortable." I reassured him.

"I really was. She is my ex for context."

"Ah."

----

Clay and I made it back to the house with the food, ordered an extra meal for Nick in case he wanted some when he got home. The whole ride back we laughed about Maria's reactions, he kept apologizing for her behavior like it was his fault, and we talked a bit more about music. It was something we had in common.

We pulled into the garage to see Nick's new car parked. When we got inside Nick was still taking his shoes off.

"Just got back?" Clay asked.

"Yep. Did you get me anything?" He pointed at the bags of take-out.

"No. You said to eat without you, remember?" Clay said.

I scoffed. "He's lying. Yes, we got you a chicken chimichanga. Your favorite."

"That's my girl!" He yelled.

"I was thinking we could watch Unhinged. It's on our list." I suggested.

"Unhinged?" Clay asked.

"Thriller film about a psycho trying to kill some chick. Has Russell Crowe in it." Nick explained.

"Russell Crowe? I'm down. We can watch it in the theater downstairs."

"You have a home theater? Are you like a millionaire?" I asked. He just smirked and walked away.

We three headed down to the theater room in the basement. It had a massive projector bolted to the wall and three couches; a three-seater on the back wall and 2 love seats on either side. Nick plopped down on the left side of the couch and Clay followed to sit next to him placing himself in the middle. I was forced to sit down on the right and Clay started passing out our meals.

Barely 30 minutes into the movie Nick was passed out on one of the love seats that he moved. Of course, he's asleep. Clay finished the last of his fajitas and tossed his container onto the coffee table in front of us. As he came back to sitting comfortably he put his arm around the back of the couch behind me, letting his fingers rest on my shoulder. His touch was soft, but still there. He propped his ankle on his other knee causing his leg to touch me too. What is he doing? I tried to ignore the contact but I couldn't focus on the movie. I shifted my body a bit so our legs weren't touching. He started softly playing with my hair, rolling it between his fingers. Every so often his fingers would brush against my skin and make me jump.

I hate this. Why am I so scared? Or am I flustered? I pushed myself off of the couch and started walking to the door.

"Anja? Where are you going?" He asked.

"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." I left the room before he could say anything else. I couldn't breathe and I was visibly shaking. I decided to take a shower to calm my nerves. It ended up being cold.

----

For the next week, I kept avoiding Clay. Every time we were in the same room I left as quickly as I could. I felt bad, he looked hurt. I couldn't help but panic when he was around. Why am I like this?

Tuesday I was on my way back from a shower when I ran into Clay. He was standing outside of my bedroom door playing with his fingers, waiting for me. I just walked straight past him but he grabbed my arm and made me spin around to face him.

I freaked out and aggressively pulled my arm away. "What do you want?"

He raised his hands up in a passive manner. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I just want to know why you've been avoiding me so much? Did I do something?"

"Yeah... last Wednesday during the movie." His eyebrows pinched together in confusion. "You kept touching me. I... I just don't like being touched." I said.

He parted his lips into an 'o' and started nodding his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't even realize I was doing it." He moved to rub the back of his neck, avoiding my eyes. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable so I'll make sure not to do it again."

"Thank you." Don't thank him.

He finally looked up at me and our eyes met. It somehow got more awkward.

"Do you need anything else or are you just gonna stand there and look at me?" I asked.

"Oh. Yeah. Um... I was wondering if you could look at my lyrics? I'm stuck on the second verse but I finished the rest."

I nodded. He pointed his finger back towards his room across the hallway and I took the hint. His room wasn't what I expected. With the car and the house, I thought his room would be color-coordinated, with a fancy and expensive pc set, and the aesthetic of the rest of the house. Instead, his room was small. Dark blue walls with a big bed tucked in the corner. His window was painted to be blacked out with a black curtain over it. His desk sat across from his door, the desktop on the floor and two nice monitors on his desk. The screens were surrounded by cute figurings and art was everywhere on the walls. They all had some white blob with a smile and too much green for my liking.

I sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled my legs into my chest. Why am I getting flustered again? Clay grabbed the notebook off his desk and sat down next to me. He opened it and then handed it to me. "It's called Roadtrip. I have an idea on how I want the melody to go too."

"I like this." I point at the first line. "People change like the tides in the ocean. Poetic." I looked up at him blushing. "Do you wanna sing it for me?"

"I don't think I'm confident enough for that yet." He giggled. "But there is a song that just came out that fits the vibe I wanna go for." He got up and walked over to his desk, I followed. He pulled up a music video on Youtube called "Traitor of the Tribe" by emotionvoid. Interesting name. I instantly recognized the song when he hit play.

"What the fuck?" I took the mouse out of his hand and enlarged the video. It was Samantha, Jackson, Nathan, and Carlos dancing around a campfire as the song played. "This is my song!" I yelled. Hot, angry tears started to gather in my eyes but I brushed them down.

"What?" Clay asked.

"Those are my lyrics. I fucking composed this and they stole it."