I nearly forget to pry him for the answer to my question seeing as I'm ninety-nine percent sure that my breathing has halted.

Needless to say, I'm relieved when he gives me an easy answer without prying for the first time today.

"The secretary asked me if I knew anybody here, so I chose not to include all the people I fucking hated in junior high and just list you, Jasmine, and your brother. Since apparently all of you are in the same English class, she placed me in that one," he says with a large smile playing across his lips.

I choose to let the swear word that had slipped out slide for now, smiling back.

He has such a strong personality. He brings a light to every situation, cheer to a dull room. I truthfully do believe he's great for it.

I feel the sudden urge to drag the newly-found boy aside and just ask him what exactly was going through his mind that night he kissed me. I can't solve why that event refuses to leave my every train of thought, but I'm nearly seventeen now, four years later, and here we are.

"Our English classroom is right down here," I direct, not sure if Bryce will pick up on the information judging by his wandering stares around the cramped hallways all around us. It doesn't come as a shock to me when he doesn't yet respond, before perking up as I slow down before the doorway.

He raises an eyebrow at me, gazing towards the door. "This one?" he asks.

I smile at him as if to tell him he's correct, reaching to open the door to let us in. Judging by the plain view through the window, we were the first to make it all the way up here.

Bryce swiftly reaches past my arm to the door handle, yanking the door open before I even have a chance. As I typically do, I proceed to gawk at him while he has his typical mellow expression. He cocks his head in direction of the room, gesturing for me to enter, so grasping my stack of binders a little closer to my chest, I follow his direction.

Walking back to the group's regular table, I take my typical seat, and Bryce pulls out the empty chair right to my left as if it were second nature to him. He slouches down into the chair with an exasperated huff, dropping his bag on the floor beside his feet. Helplessly, I take note of the fact he's wearing a perfectly clean and bright pair of white Converse.

He quickly looks back up, and I know he caught me staring by the mischief in his eyes as they lock with mine. Despite how long it's been, this taunting and general interaction seems so familiar.

There's a distant sort of air to his aura as our attention shifts to the fact that our hands are practically touching as they lay next to each other against the battered tabletop. I suck in a harsh intake of breath, just as everything comes to life around the area, dragging us away from whatever moment we may have just experienced.

Convenient timing as always, considering it's just as Bryce pulls out a sleek laptop that Mateo shows up with Ryan pinned to his side. The two are chatting animatedly, until Ryan walks around the group to sit next to my brother and Mateo is left looking utterly unamused due to the boy beside me once more.

Even though I figure Mateo won't confess so in the blink of an eye, I sense that the pair have crossed paths a few times previous to today. Mateo just stares at Bryce with such plain disgust that there is absolutely no way it's result of a lousy first impression.

Sure, Bryce didn't have the most pleasant greeting towards him, Daniel, and Ryan, but can you really ask for anything else?

"Mind getting out of my seat?" he asks Bryce, who miraculously seems to be ignoring his heated gaze, so he merely shakes his head in response.

"I'll pass, thanks," he replies, gnawing down on his lower lip to conceal a sheepish grin. The interactions between the two are incredibly odd, and I don't think I've ever been more confused.

I wrap my arm around past the chair, tugging on Mateo's wrist. He responds by walking over towards me, stealing Jasmine's seat and plopping down with a sigh. He briefly looks towards my hands, still folded across the table, before planting his elbows atop his legs and sinking his face into his palms.

It's truly a blessing when Jasmine immediately flounces into the room, Charlie flanked to her side.

"Dan left as soon as you two scampered away," she comments, squeezing both me Bryce and I's left shoulders as she passes by to perch on the opposite side of our table.

"I'm kinda grateful, honestly. His texting yesterday was pretty much just overkill," she confesses, in the lightest manner, as if she didn't just say something somewhat non-positive about one of our best friends.

Brutally honest as always.

"When exactly is some sort of damn teacher supposed to show up. Considering this is the only public high school, as in the only one not filled with rich, snobby, religious kids in this part of the damn city, you'd think they'd have better staffing. Don't you agree?" Bryce asks me.

I tap on his arm to get his gaze fixated on me once more, and this time I take some time to examine his eyes.

His irises are a rich brown colour, with little flecks of gold and amber scattered throughout. There's a thin ring of emerald green right around his pupil, hard to see from the shadow of his long eyelashes.

Slightly embarrassed, I direct my point of attention away from the boy before me to the board at the front of the classroom, just as our teacher walks past the white screen to begin unpacking the contents of his briefcase and setting them up at his desk.

Bryce follows my line of vision, and springs out of his seat upon realizing the teacher he had been ranting about has finally appeared.

"Wish me luck, Blossom!" he jokes, walking away from me to go strike up a conversation with said teacher.

"He's a gem," Ryan jokes, and I catch Charlie giving him a playful side eyed glare.

I turn to the person of interest, to see him chatting with our now extremely excited teacher. Their conversation eventually comes to a conclusion with the trillionth time today that the corners of Bryce's lips turn upwards into a dashing smile. He strolls back over towards my direction, and I immediately mock him by imitating his smirk.

"So, your teacher fucking adores me!" he exclaims with as much false enthusiasm as possible. He sits down at the table, pulling out his phone and beginning to text furiously in the blink of an eye.

"That's great! Now how 'bout you actually help us!" I taunt, snatching the phone out of his hands and locking it before setting it down on the opposite end of the table.

"Shit, you're not my babysitter," he huffs.

No matter his reaction, he still obeys as he brushes the loose strands of hair away from his forehead.

"Can I ask you something else?" I request, tapping Bryce's shin with my toe to show that I'm speaking to him.

"Shoot."

"Where have you been all these years? And why did you just turn up all of a sudden, not to mention a month into school? It's already October."

He chuckles, and I'm terrified he thinks I'm kidding, but thankfully he responds.

"We moved down to Florida for my dad's work. His company moved their many offices from here, and it made sense for him to be working down there considering he's the CEO. We moved back last month, and I was supposed to be back in school for the first day, but I wasn't really feeling it," he drawls as if it were the most natural thing possible.

"Have you always sworn so much?" I ask, puckering my lips together.

"Usually more. I'm going easy on you," he comments, and based on the twinkle in his eyes, I know that there's certainly a double-meaning to that.

"Why did you move back though?" I prod, deciding to change the topic.

The atmosphere in the room suddenly freezes over, as Bryce's posture goes rigid. I don't know how, but I clearly triggered some sort of awful memory from inside him.

"That's a story for another time," he says, dodging the question through a grim smile.

Feeling kind of awful, I avoid the tension and revert back to out work, considering we're technically still in class.

"What are your grades like, Bryce?" Mateo chooses to ask all of a sudden.

Bryce seems to be back to his cheerful self, and his brows furrow in concentration as he tries to jog his memory.

A light bulb goes off suddenly in his mind, and he focuses his attention towards Mateo.

"Nothing under 95% the past few years. I did nearly bomb my last big history test, though. Thank God for cramming notes five minutes prior." He snorts at his own joke, but I'm still in awe of how quickly he brushes that fact off.

I grab his arm to pull his whole body to face me. "You're kidding, right?"

Typical.

The time seems to have vanished into thin air as Jasmine, eager as always, soon begins tidying away her belongings.

"Is everybody down for our usual Friday afternoon diner trips?" she asks, and an eager buzz echoes from our table.

"You'll come too, right Bryce?" she offers, and he gives her a smile, as a way of saying 'Yes' nonverbally.

"Great," Ryan responds, and Charlie smiles too, probably hoping to get to know the new Bryce a bit better.

"How was Florida?" Jasmine questions out of the blue, directed at Bryce of course. He seems eager for conversation, and easily gives an animated response.

"It was pretty shit, actually. High school starts in ninth grade there which is weird, but apart from that the whole school aspect of life there was pretty damn similar. Our house there wasn't nearly as nice as ours here though. Not that it matters," he replies smoothly.

Jasmine nods thoroughly as she absorbs all his words. Our conversation seems to have piqued interest in Charlie for he's now sitting with his body angled slightly towards Bryce and I. Mateo keeps taking quick peaks up towards us but is still devoted to our schoolwork.

"Where are you living now?" she continues. Bryce sets his elbows down on his computer's keyboard, clasping his hands together and resting his chin on top.

"We've actually moved back into our old place. We were searching the market in the area after we had already decided to move back, and when we saw it was up for sale again, it seemed like fate," he explains, slightly chuckling to himself. "Everything seems to be falling back in place, even though it was all fine and dandy in The States."

My brother throws an arm around Jasmine's shoulder, pulling her flush against his side.

"But you missed us, right?" he asks, sticking out his bottom lip to pout. I can't avoid the urge to give him a hard eye roll in response, and I know Bryce catches it in his peripheral vision as the corners of his mouth perk up into a faint smile.

"Sure," he counters, attention straight towards Jasmine and Charlie.

"But don't worry, Blossom." He reverts back to me, eyes twinkling with mirth and amusement. "I definitely didn't miss you one bit."

His little games and taunting teasing seems to effect me in odd ways, giving me butterflies in my stomach and a mess of thoughts swirling in my head. If it weren't for the sight of his questioning stare as I'm deep in thought, I don't believe this thought would have struck me.

How did both Charlie and Jazzy know where Bryce was and how he was doing but I've had no clue this whole entire time?

I shield away from Bryce to Mateo, who isn't paying me any attention, to Charlie and Jasmine, before inquiring, "How come everybody knew about all this except for me?"

Jasmine glances towards me, bewildered. "What do you mean? Didn't you see it all over the inter—"

My brother clamps his hand down right over her mouth, and she hushes up in realization. Bryce and him share a moment of knowing eye contact before Mateo finally says something for the first time in the past hour.

"I know I'm missing a lot of info right now, but damn, you people are confusing."

I know we probably should've taken this to some offence, but what he stated isn't at all false, and I'm sure all would have resumed to normal if it wasn't for the haze of awkwardness still draped over us.

Bryce reaches up for the side of my face, pulling me slightly towards him. I shiver at his touch, and I barely resist the urge to fight away. "Remember that text I sent your brother yesterday? I told him then."

Instinct causes me to whip around to face Charlie. "Why didn't you tell me too?"

His only answer is a helpless shrug, and I nearly allow my jaw to drop down. We never keep secrets from each other, no matter how minor and insignificant.

"Please don't blame him; I specifically asked him not to tell you. Let's just say that I wanted to see your reaction myself, in person," Bryce whispers in my ear, so faintly the words are barely audible.

As simply as that, the bell let's out a scheduled shrill ring, a sharp contrast to the soft lull of Bryce's whispers. And based on the fact that the universe just seems to being playing tricks on my today, I don't even bother to even begin questioning the fact that Bryce has Calculus next, same with me, when he asks for directions.

It's even less shocking that based on the paper he soon handed me, we appear to have all the same classes every single day of the week apart for one.

"You sing?" I ask him as we walk out of the room to our next class. It's down a floor, so I guide Bryce around to one of the back stairwells.

I know I usually walk with Mateo, but he's nowhere in sight as Bryce responds to me. "Yeah, do you?"

Saying 'I sing' would be an understatement. As I seem to always mention, music is my entire life.

I nod slowly. "I was in a production of The Phantom of the Opera at the big theatre downtown over the summer."

He gives me a small, almost sad smile, just as we enter our math room and I head for my favourite seat in every classroom, the back corner where nobody can bother me. Except for today, as Bryce seats himself at the desk right in front of me.

Nobody sits there ever, but there's no way he could've known that.

He turns around carefully to strike up conversation again before class begins.

"I know," he says. "You played Christine. You had always wanted to, and it was your dream come true."

Once again, the confession seems to mean nothing to him even though I'm now vaguely concerned I have a case of a personal stalker on my hands.

"I saw it on your Instagram. I've been meaning to follow you."

Ah.

Mateo sits down next to me and I notice how intense everything about him is. His brows are furrowed slightly, his jaw clenched on one half, and his posture rigid as a pole.

"Matt? Are you okay?" I ask. At the sound of my voice, he softens and looks towards me.

"All good."

But I know that so many people aren't telling me the truth. White lies on top of white lies just keep adding up to a string of untruths.

And sure, I'm many things. But neither 'stupid' or 'gullible' are one of them.