My leg kept bouncing up and down the more the seconds stretched. Logan by my side, gave me pointed -annoyed- looks, but I rolled my eyes and ignored it. Mrs Glennson took her time passing the pages of our last article, her lips pursed as we wait for her verdict.

I felt a light tap on my feet, but in my state it made me jump. Bewildered, I gave Logan a glare and he gestured me to stop the mad bouncing. As if it was that easy! We've been called here for a reason, and judging by the scowl on her face it wasn't a good one.

"Well," she cleared her throat finally, snapping both our attention back to her. "I gotta say I'm disappointed."

Just like that my chest deflated. If there was anything I was spotless at, that was writting. I'd been on the Daily ever since I was allowed to and never once I'd been disappointing. That hurt. Her eyes lifted from this week's article we'd released this Monday an was due to be printed in this Friday's edition.

"Putting you two together was a bold decision, but you got this something... your works had been nothing bur brilliant since I paired you. Could you please explain this?" she slid the stapled pages across her desk 'till it rested before us, mocking us with the red marks written all over it. "Chaotic, directionless... I even found spelling errors a freshman could easily point out." the more she talked the smaller I felt, my pride crushing at my feet like glass. And for the cry-puppy look of Logan I could tell he felt the same. Her brows lifted. "Care to explain how on earth this happen?"

Logan and I shared a look. My chest constricted painfully in anxiety, knowing who was the culprit of this major failure. I wetted my lips, my hands shaking.

"This is on me." her eyes focused solely on me and my small confidence erased all the more. "I-I'm so sorry, Mrs. I swear I thought I had looked it over properly. I know this is inexcusable and I'll take all the blame for it."

Please don't kick me out the Dayly. Please don't...

But she surprised me with a sigh, leaning back against her chair and massaging her temples. Logan and I shared another look, confused at her not having immediately removed me from my current position for such a mess.

"Miss Grace..." she shook her head. "This is, indeed, inexcusable. For a senior. For a former member of the Daily."

"I know." I lowered my head in shame, my voice a murmur.

"I know you're not having the... best week so far," I tensed that -once more- the teacher body knew about our family dramas. And that she was bringing it up in front of Logan! "And I don't mean to sound insensitive, but you can't let it interfere with your student work."

"I know."

"You're an impeccable reporter. I know this hopeless article does not represent your work." she slid the shameful work so it was closer to Logan's side. "So, with that in mind and judging by your delicate situation, I'm not gonna take this into consideration." I visibly relaxed once I knew I wasn't getting kicked out. Brown was still a possibility. "Still," she proceeded relentlessly. "You may want to take it slow this week?"

My stomach twitched. It came out as a suggestion, but it was more like an order and I lowered my face, taking it in as I sense the wide, baffled eyes of Logan beside me.

"Okay."

"As for you, Mr Dawson, if you could fix this article so it's ready for this Friday's edition -next at most. Now that's all if you don't have any questions..."

We didn't.

I stood stiffly, both relieved and bothered by what just occurred. Relieved because, as I said, my application for brown will highly depend on my marks and my work in the Daily. And bothered because, now on top of the constant itching in my chest at my father's lack of contact, now it also was affecting my everyday life, not only my emotionalstate.

"Oh, Miss Grace." the redactor stopped me from stepping away as I slipped my bag's strands over my shoulder. "Do you mind dropping this to Mr Ross on your way out?"

Still numb, I took the thin folder she was handing me and made my way out her office, followed closely by Logan.

"If that had been me, I'd be out the Daily already." he hissed when we stepped in the empty hallway and my chest constricted at his accusatory tone. I turned just to realize his gaze held that look as well. "You were supposed to look it over."

"I did!"

"Clearly not." he glared. "Look, I'm not gonna lose this place just because you're having a 'week off'." My spine straightened at his tone. "From now on I'll look over it before handing it over."

"Logan-"

"You should rush with that." he ignored my remark pointing at the folder with his chin as he did the first steps backwards. "I heard Mr Ross isn't one to stay after hours."

And with that he spun and left me there, word in mouth. The worst? I totally deserved it.

Or did I really? I mean, yeah, I mess up big time, but I took responsibility for it. It didn't splashed him other than correcting the article again.

My eyes stung, but I gritted my teeth and forced it down. I didn't need a week off. I needed normality. I needed to be treated like any other student, so my achieves didn't felt like favors to my mother.

I was in desperate need to black out, but at the same time I wanted more than ever to prove I could be great at what I do. I get why Mrs Glennson took me out for a week, but at the same time Logan was right. Such a mess up shouldn't be looked over. I'd been careless and done a shitty work. Now this was my punishment, even if it came wrapped gift-like.

The classes had ended about fifteen minutes ago and the hallways were more empty than ever. No one was eager to stay longer than necessary, and as Logan had pointed out, neither did Mr Ross; our new English teacher who was always moving, so waiting patiently after his class ended wasn't exactly something I believe he would do. In the three months he'd been here he got this reputation for being more dynamic than your average teacher.

He was younger too. Thirty at most, and I'd heard what girls say about him.

The class' door was ajar, and there were faint voices coming out. Yay, he was still here. At least I wouldn't fail Mrs Glennson more than once in a day. I went to knock, not to intrude; but right before I get to I halted on the doorframe.

Kimberly was in there, sat nonchalantly on one of the first raw's desks and Mr Ross stood across from her, with a frown as he talked too low for me to hear. A bit too close for it to be appropriate between student and teacher.

Or was it just me?

There was something in that that unsettled in my stomach. Maybe it was the grimace on her face, the way he leaned to talk, the casualness in their behavior... Something felt weird.

My hand on the knob unintentionally pushed the door a couple inches, making it squeak loudly and both of their snapped this way. Heat pooled in my cheeks.

"Mh, excuse me, Mr Ross? I've been told to bring you this?" I sounded too hesitant, and not even his friendly smile as he came to take it was able to vanish that unease from my stomach.

"Sure, Miss Grace, thank you."

I nodded, my eyes met Kimberly's dark ones over Mr Ross shoulder as she slid off the desk and the knot in my guts tightened. Mumbling something I hope sounded like a goodbye, I spun and go out that class.

What the hell??!

Something was really off about them, about what was going on in that class. Or what would if I hadn't interrupted?

"Gracie!" I heard footsteps behind me just as I exited the building and spotted Taylor in her car. I halted in my tracks, grimacing at the awful nickname, and gingerly turned to see the cheerleader carefully lowering the front steps and made her way here, squaring her shoulders. "It's not what it looks like."

If anything, that only proved more that it was what it looks like. "I haven't seen anything-"

"Cut the crap." she spat rolling her eyes and folding her arms. She always so aggressive... I never knew if she disliked me openly or it was just part of her personality. "I know what you think you've seen. You're wrong. Just don't tell your mother, okay?"

My mother. The school's counselor.

"Why would I?" I shrugged innocently, eying carefully each twitch of the muscles in her face. She must be a pro because none of them moved. "There's nothing to tell, right?"

"Exactly." she nodded and spun, about to march away, but then hesitated. "Don't tell Nate either.

If she wanted me to believe that was nothing she was failing miserably. But either way, I wasn't a busybody. That wasn't my problem to bicker about, right? Even tho it unsettled me. A teacher and a student... ew. Was that even legal? I thanked God I didn't have him in my program.

I was about to say something, but a honk startled us and I turned to see Tay gesturing me as if saying 'you're coming or what?'.

"Whatever." grumbled Kimberly and I turned back to her. "Just don't." and she disappeared.

Confused I made my way to where Tay was waiting with a frown. Considering she'd been waiting for a while now, I couldn't exactly blame her for being impatient.

"What was that about?"

"I don't know." I sighed, more sincerely than she gave me credit for, I could tell by the look she gave me.

"Okay... so how did it go with Mrs Glennson? What did she want?"

"What is he doing here?"

"Mh?" I sat straight again after picking my bag just as Tay entered the path the parted from the main road and lead to the farm. Confused at her out of the blue question I followed her gaze and my heart jolted when I recognized Letty from afar, parked before my house. "Oh," my brows knitted together. "I don't know."

I quickly check my phone, but I got no new texts from him responding mine nor announcing his arrival. Today he hadn't come at school at all and apparently answering a text was too complicated. A part of me was glad he came, these past days, I only managed to fully get my mind of things with him. He touches me and the world disappears. Maybe it was a good thing he was here. Otherwise, as soon as Tay dropped me I'd be alone with my thoughts again.

"You like him?" my friend's voice snapped me out my trance, making my eyes went wide as I turned towards her.

"Of course not!" I gaped, but she returned the look sternly for a second before diverting again to glance forward. The closer we get the cleared his form was, sitting in my porch steps.

"Hails, come on. Can you honestly tell me that with all that making out and getting cozy you're able to keep the feelings aside?"

"I..." I followed her gaze too, my chest squeezing at his sight, his head low and his elbows resting on his thighs.

He looked upset and I immediately wanted to wipe that feeling away. Brushed out whatever it was tormenting him and crushed it 'till it disappeared. Bewildered at my own instinct, I mentally cursed at Tay for putting those ideas in my head.

She gave me an I-know-you-better-than-yourself-look as she pulled the car to a stop behind Letty. "You what?"

I don't! I wanted to yell, but for some reason my voice came out baffled with a low: "I don't know."

"You don't know or you don't know if you do like him?"

"I don't know." I groaned again, very self-conscious, unbuckling and ready to get away from this turmoil in my chest. "Thanks for the lift. I'll text you later, okay?"

Tay sighed, pulling the car in movement again. "Be careful, Hails."

Me liking Nate.

Pfff.

As if!

But as I erased the gap between me and Nate sitting form I could sense something was off. He hadn't once looked up upon hearing my approach... or maybe he didn't hear me. His shoulders were slumped and his usual demi-disheveled hair gave him that Rebel halo. Why hadn't he come school? What was he doing here?

My heart pounded harder the more meters I covered. "Hi." I mumbled once reaching his ear shot yet he still wasn't glancing up nor uttering a sound.

Weird.

I stopped before him, my brows pursing at the bad gut feeling I was having.

"Nate," I put one hand on his shoulder, hesitantly, not sure if it was okay for this approach. "Hey what are you-" my voice drifted away in a gast when he finally rose his head and I saw a bluish bruise across his left cheekbone. "Oh my God."

Forgetting all restrains now I found myself cupping his face to get a better look. There was a shiner, kinda swollen and painful-looking that held his eye slightly closed.

"I'm fine." he peeled my hands and lowered his gaze again, but the roaring in my ears didn't falter.

"You got into another fight?" he didn't respond and my mind went frantic. "Is this why you weren't in Roosevelt, isn't it?"

Why was he always getting in fights?

I glanced around, lost at what to do now. How to react?

We were alone. My mother was overwhelmed with work lately and the twins were out for the next couple hours.

"Why do you always assume it's from fights?" his low, slurred voice brought my attentions back to him.

"Is it not?" He didn't respond and I took in a deep breath, forcing myself to calm the mad throbbing in my chest. "What happen, Nate?"

"A fight." He shrugged and I felt like yelling... or was it crying? Something twitched in my chest nastily and all my nerves burned. "I didn't know where to go." he mumbled then, not glancing up from his hands and my heart squeezed. "I don't want to be a burden."

"You aren't."

"I didn't know where to go..." he repeated and I crouched before him, seeing he was somehow off. His green eyes struggled to focus on me and I had to force myself not to look at the bruise but returned the stare instead.

"You can come here." I reassured him, not knowing until I voiced it how much I mean it. Maybe our relationship was chaotic and messy, but we were friends, and if he needed a place to go this was as good as any other.

"Thanks." he whispered and I smiled a bit.

"Come in, will you? I-I can check if your bruises needed attention-" but he was already shaking his head.

"I'm fine."

"Come in, either way." I stood, holding my hands out for him to take and helped him up. "I'll get you some ice." Only when he did get up my nose pursed at the funny smell I just now identify.

"Have you drunk?"

"This much." he brought one hand up, measuring maybe a couple inches between his thumb and his forefinger.

My scowl deepened. "You drove here drunk?"

"I'm not drunk." he snapped and stepped back away from my grasp, almost falling when he tripped with the porch steps. Luckily he managed to hold on the wooden railing in time and once stable he glowered back at me making my heart dropped to my stomach. "I'm not a drunk."

I gulped. "I didn't say you were."

"I just drink a little bit. What's the big issue?"

"Nate, there is no issue." with everything building up through the day, coming here and turning out that the person that might help me distract was troubled as well and bursting up at me brought that awful moisture back to my eyes. Don't cry. "Stop the lashing out at me."

I was on the verge of breaking down. If Nate kept up pushing my distress I won't be able to hold back anymore. My chest was shaken.

His face softened immediately, realizing he was out of line and in his half slurred state mumbling a repentant: "I'm sorry." Anger vanishing from his system as fast as it came and his shoulder slumped again. "I didn't mean to."

It was confusing because he wasn't exactly drunk, just a bit confused. At his change of attitude I felt my insides unclenching a bit. The urge to cry not as persistent now, back to being a latent on the back of my mind.

"Don't get mad at me." he whispered in a soft tone that made my stomach curled. The expression in his face unreadable.

"I'm not." I shook my head, praying I wasn't that easy to read and cleared my throat. "Let's go inside, okay?"

He nodded as I passed by and followed me in. I dropped my bag at the entrance and signed for him to do the same, unsure what to do next.

I wasn't in the mood to tutor him, nor like he was in the ideal state to be tutored. His fight was off the table judging by his vague answers and as for me, being here again remind me of my family. Of that stupid call that never came. Sadness threatened to chew me up again so I needed to erase that or we both will sink into those bad feelings.

Without realizing it, I'd made my way into the kitchen and as I glanced around an idea struck me. That's it. I pushed my unease to the bottom of my mind, turning around.

"Let's do milkshakes!" I smiled cheekily and he frowned.

"What?"

"Milkshakes." I nodded gesturing for him to take the stool, but he just watched me put everything in counter and washed my hands before rolling my sleeves to my elbows. "My mother always makes them to cheer us up. They're the sweetest. And it's hard to keep a sour mood when you're eating them because they're just, you know, yummy."

But my chest squeezed when I turned and found his green gaze piercing through me. The corner of his mouth twitched, adding to the butterflies in my stomach.

"What's with you and all these things, uh?"

I frowned. Was he attacking my cravings again? A win from his previous sulking, but still...

"I had a sweet tooth, so what?"

"Yeah, I can tell."

I rolled my eyes at his irony and pointed at him with the beater. "Not my fault you're a bitter guy with bitter taste."

He chuckled, the sound soaking into me like melted honey, and reached for my wrist, tugging me closer as his free hand circled my waist spreading warmth everywhere. "I do have a sweet tooth, tho."

My brows knitted together. Sweet tooth? Him? He's always complaining about my choices of sweets. So I couldn't help a skeptical: "Do you now?"

"Mhm." the intensity in his eyes buried deep in my soul, looking at me that way that made my heart flutter. I became even more thawed when he leaned for an unexpected kiss.

We didn't kiss like that, casually and tender. Out of the blue. Like a couple would.

But all those doubts were musk when he pulled away with a smile. "You."

Me...

Oh.

I'm his sweet tooth?

I blushed helplessly, baffled by such a sudden affection.

Tay's words came back at me and dazed my mind.

I don't like him like that.