The rest of the week was a mess.

Luckily, Mateo wasn't actually injured that badly, and both him and Bryce got off with only detention for the rest of the week.

Both of them apologized, and promised that nothing like that would happen ever again, and I'm just thankful nothing too severe came out of it. I would hate for this to really affect their futures.

Friday afternoon has finally rolled around, and I've never been happier.

All I want to do is go home, curl up in my bed, and read a book while listening to The Light in the Piazza. That dream is quickly diminished as I soon realize that I already promised my friends that I'd go away with them for the weekend.

And after all the back and forth banter between Charlie and my parents for permission, it would be rude for me to back out at the last moment.

Mateo and Bryce have barely spoken, which worries me as they'll be sleeping under the same roof two nights in a row. I hope they can put their differences behind them long enough for everybody to have a good time.

We haven't worked out driving arrangements yet, but I'm praying that Mateo and Bryce don't end up in the same vehicle.

We're all currently standing around outside the school, chatting about who's going to drive, minus Charlie and Daniel who had to leave school early for a soccer game on top of the games they have tomorrow.

"How many of us are there?" Bryce asks, gazing around at me, Jasmine, Mateo, Jordan, and Ryan. "Six? I can grab a car that fits five," he offers, and after his words set in it all sounds oddly suspicious.

"Grab a car?" Jordan asks, quirking an eyebrow up at Bryce. "What, you're going to steal one or some shit?"

Jasmine snorts, but quickly regains composure after a glare from Bryce.

"God no. I'll drive home to get it," he answers.

"Wait, but doesn't your truck only fit two? And your dad's car looked pretty small too," I bring up, and Bryce looks down to me from where he's standing a couple feet away.

He smirks at me momentarily, before laughing to himself and looking out towards the parking lot.

"Darling, you clearly haven't seen our garage. My dad loves to buy cars; it's what he spends most of his money on," Bryce informs me, and I don't know how I didn't consider that sooner.

Of course they have more cars. Leo Bradshaw seems to have too much money for his own good.

"Oh," I answer quietly, not sure what else to say.

He smiles at me, before pulling his car keys out of his pocket and jingling them in the air. "I'll take five people if someone else takes two. Whoever wants a drive, text Lexi your address and I'll pick you up," he says, taking authority.

No one seems to want to argue with him, so everybody nods except for Mateo who doesn't seem to enjoy the way Bryce is taking over the whole situation.

"Why would people need to text me?" I ask him, and he blinks at me, watching me silently for a moment as if to see if I figure it out myself.

I don't, and so he slings his backpack over his shoulder before gesturing for me to follow him.

"They don't have my number and I'm driving you home anyway, so let's go," he explains to me.

Why would he be driving me home when Charlie usually—

"Your brother already left, genius," Bryce teases, wrapping an arm around my waist and guiding me towards the parking lot. "I'll see all you guys later," he says, and just like that we end up leaving.

I hear everybody begin saying their goodbyes as we walk away, and Bryce finally removes his arm from my waist, thankfully, because I think my breathing had changed after that gesture.

Bryce seems to have parked near the back corner of the lot, and I follow him without a word. His red truck comes into view, and when we finally reach the car, he reaches for the handle to the passenger side.

His hand hovers there for a moment, and then a click signals before he fully grabs the handle, opening the door for me.

"Thanks," I reply meekly, and he shuts the door behind me before walking around to his side of the car.

I drop my bag down to the floor by my feet, watching as Bryce tosses his bag into the back trunk area. He starts up the engine, but doesn't begin driving right away. Instead, he taps on a few buttons on the huge screen that allows you to select music, and the motion silences the sound coming from the radio. He then grabs his phone out of his pocket, opening it just with a look towards the camera and a swipe up.

"Play whatever you like," he says to me, handing me the device. "Spotify is on the first page," he continues, and I nod to him, opening up the app as he exits the school grounds.

I scroll through his downloaded playlists for a little bit, before finally finding some mediocre pop music that I somewhat enjoy.

"I'm surprised you got into the car with me so quickly," he jokes, stopping at a red light which allows him to turn and look at me.

"I expected you to accuse me of kidnapping you or something," he continues.

My brain momentarily shuts down.

"Let go of me!" I scream, but they don't listen.

A strong hand clamps over my mouth, and something is being tied over my eyes. I'm flailing, kicking and squirming to try and get out of the man's grip, but he won't budge.

"Foolish girl," a new voice says, a female voice.

"We don't care about what you want. We have duties we must fulfill," she says, laughing. Her voice is raspy as if she's smoked a few too many cigarettes for her own good.

"Blossom? Blossom, are you okay?" Bryce voice asks, pulling me away from my daydream that's more like a nightmare.

I find myself gripping the edge of my seat, my breathing hard. I have to blink slowly as I'm suddenly dizzy, trying to readjust to my surroundings.

I feel Bryce's hand on my cheek, and he tilts my face to his. His eyes are still on the road as he drives with just one hand, but he's biting his bottom lip in deep thought.

"I'm fine," I answer him, but he doesn't seem to believe me as he remains staring at the road, brows furrowed.

I try to rack through my brain for something to say to change the topic. I fall short, deciding to remain sitting in silence, staring at my hands, now folded in my lap.

"How do you know how to get to my house?" I ask Bryce, and his expression seems to settle a little bit.

"I have a good memory. I remember how to get to your neighbourhood," he says, unsurprisingly as he seems to have the ability to remember everything.

We don't talk for the rest of the ride to my house, and when he finally pulls into my driveway, I unbuckle my seatbelt hastily before opening up the door and beginning to climb out of the car.

His truck is very high up from the ground, so I have to keep a grip on the inner handle as I step down, grabbing my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder.

I'm about to shut the door when I notice that Bryce is stepping out of the car as well.

"What?" he asks innocently. "You're not going to invite me in?"

I huff, slamming the door shut and walking towards my front door. This seemed to amuse Bryce and made him laugh, as I hear another door slam shut, followed by the sure sound of his footsteps as he follows behind me.

I reach into my bag to grab my keys, and when I eventually get a grasp on them I put the key in the lock and twist to open up the door. I step into the house, shutting the door after Bryce before taking off my shoes and heading straight upstairs.

"Damn, why are you so cranky lately?" he asks me. I hear him kick off his shoes as well, continuing to follow me up the steps.

"I'm not," I defend, stopping in the doorway to my bedroom and waiting for Bryce to catch up.

As soon as he walks into my room he stops short for an instant, gazing around the room and blinking slowly. I don't know how he could insult the room as I keep it extremely tidy, not to mention that all the furniture and decor is white so it matches just fine.

I'm still surprised when instead of insulting my taste, he says, "Your room is exactly how I pictured it."

Wait . . .

"Why were you picturing my bedroom?" I ask him, raising an eyebrow at him.

This makes him think for a second, grinning like an idiot, walking over to sit on my bed before looking back to me.

"I don't want to have sex with you if that's what you're implying," Bryce says, leaning back against the headboard of my bed and messing up the pillows I had lined up neatly this morning.

Ew, is all I can think as my instincts make me pick up a pillow off of the chair in the corner, hurling it across the room towards Bryce's face.

He catches it easily, setting it down on the bed and resting an elbow against it. He shoots me a sweet smile, and I ignore the tempting urge to give him the middle finger.

"Well I most certainly don't want to do that with you either," I retort, going over to my vanity and gathering some of my makeup into a small bag.

I had already packed a few changes of clothes for the weekend last night, but I needed my makeup this morning so I'm gathering it now.

"You really refer to sex as that?" Bryce mocks me, before pausing.

"Oh wait. You're a virgin, aren't you?" he asks, and I nearly jump right out of my seat as his voice is suddenly right in my ear rather than my bed.

I whirl around, flicking him in the arm.

"Why would you care?" I ask him, and he tugs on my hair.

That's when a small box seems to catch Bryce's eye.

"Hey, what's that?" he asks me, reaching over my shoulder to pick up the box.

I feel my heart beating a little faster as he's practically breathing down my neck, and also because I don't know how he's going to react when he learns that I still kept the necklace after all this time.

He opens the box slowly, and his gaze softens as soon as he sees the piece of jewelry inside. He picks it up, letting the flower pendant rests in the palm of his large hand.

"I can't believe you still have this," he whispers incredulously.

"I suppose I'm sort of sentimental," I offer as an answer.

I flinch when I feel his fingertips touch my neck as he brushes my hair to the side. I look up to him to find him fiddling with the clasp of the necklace, and when he gets it open he wastes no time in putting the necklace around my neck, closing up the clasp again before brushing my hair back into place.

"You should wear this again," he says to me.

I don't fight him on the matter.

I hastily finish packing my stuff, running to the bathroom to pack up my toiletries before throwing them into my bag with my clothes.

Bryce carries the bag downstairs for me without me even asking, but I don't complain at all.

We reach the doorway and he slips his shoes back on, but I ditch my flats from earlier for a pair of simple black heels. This earns me a raised eyebrow from Bryce, and I give him a sincere smile.

"Do you have something against my choice in footwear?"

Although the shoes give me an extra few inches of height, Bryce still towers over me, and he gives me a helpless shake of his head as we step out onto the front porch. He closes the door behind us and I lock it shut, before following him back to his truck.

"No, why would I? I just thought that girls always complain about how uncomfortable those are, so why would you be wearing them?" he asks me as he unlocks the car doors.

We both climb in, and he sets my bag down in the back before starting up the engine.

"It's not that bad," I answer him as my phone dings.

After her initial message she also left Jordan and Ryan's addresses, so I reply with a quick 'Thank you!' before looking back at Bryce.

We're currently stopped at a red light, and I catch how he's drumming his fingers against the steering wheel mindlessly. I wonder if he always does this.

"We only need to pick up Jordan and Ryan. Mateo is driving everyone else," I inform Bryce.

It seems he's incapable of keeping his thoughts to himself because he has to leave a comment on this, saying, "Thank God I don't have to deal with Blondie for any longer than I've had to already all week."

I immediately know who he's talking about.

"You're really about to start calling Matt 'Blondie'? Are you trying to pick another fight with him?" I ask, almost scolding him in a sense.

The next few days are bound to take a serious turn if the two of them can't keep their mouths shut. I do know that Mateo started that fight on Tuesday, even though I'm still not sure what it was about as Bryce refuses to tell me, but that doesn't mean that it wouldn't be above Bryce to say something stupid.

Bryce's neutral look shifts to a slight scowl. "Is that what to expect of me now? You think I just go around picking fights with people, don't you?" he almost snarls, and I'm taken back by how suddenly he's turned on me.

We were doing fine a minute ago, and now he's gotten all defensive on me. I didn't realize that his seemingly aggressive tendencies are apparently an insecurity of his.

The fact that he's driving right now has kept his eyes occupied, but now that he's conveniently reached another red light, he can turn to stare me down.

"That's not even what I said," I defend, crossing my arms. "You don't need to fight fire with fire. You could just be the bigger person and—"

He cuts me off. "If you want to talk about 'being the bigger person' I would highly advise you to go console with Mateo instead. I'm not interested in changing myself because you expect me to adapt for his bullshit."

My eyes widen the slightest bit. "Once again, that's not what I'm trying to say," I start, attempting to remain as calm as possible. "I just would rather speak to you then him, so—"

"I really don't understand why you're so fond of that guy," he cuts me off, again. "He's not that special. You could do far better. He's practically been blackmailing me all week," he claims.

I don't follow up on that matter because something else is irritating me even more.

"Damn, Bryce, will you let me speak? I'm clearly not interested in him! I literally just said I would rather be speaking to you instead of him! Why are you taking this all so seriously? And how the heck is he blackmailing you?"

He doesn't respond. Not for a solid few minutes, at least.

It's as we eventually pull into the driveway of his mansion that he responds.

I've been to his house countless times before when we were kids, but that doesn't mean that the beauty of its architecture doesn't still take my breath away.

The first thing I'm drawn to is the enormous garage that I guess I've never taken much notice of until now. It's safe to assume that Leo Bradshaw's so-called 'massive' car collecting must be stored there.

My eyes then return back to the building itself, the general front of the building being made of crisp stone, the siding painted a light shade of grey.

The house is on the water, a lake to be exact, which you get a perfect view of from the back. I've always loved their backyard for it, and could never help but envy the Bradshaws' ability to wake up in the morning, draw the curtains, and see such a pretty sight of crystal water.

"Just because you know me well enough to comprehend that my intentions are not bad doesn't mean that Mateo understands as well," Bryce says calmly as the engine comes to a stop.

He unlocks the car, nodding to me. "I won't leave you out here alone. Hurry up and grab your bags," he instructs me, and I'd rather not argue with him again.

He walks with a certain confidence, much like Camila does. I have to rush to keep up with him as he walks up the tall staircase leading to his front door as he uses his long legs to an advantage, skipping a step with each stride. He unlocks the front door, holding it open for me as I step inside.

I'm instantly taken back by what I see.

The house is decorated differently now than it used to be. The walls used to be the same grey as the exterior, but now they're a bright, almost blinding white. There's a huge, black chandelier right above the doorway, the vaulted ceilings here extremely high.

To our right, there's a modern living room, all the furniture in neutral tones. A massive television is mounted on one wall, in perfect view if someone was to be sitting on the large sectional sofa with accent pillows placed along the back.

To the left is a winding spiral staircase that leads to the second floor, and all along the wall is a strategic series of square windows that make a pattern when looked at as a set. Bryce begins walking up these stairs, and when he nears the top he looks down at me.

"Give me a moment. Don't break anything," he winks, before disappearing around a corner.

Damn.

I dare to wander a little farther into the house, walking down the hallway and passing a few closed doors before reaching a grand kitchen. There's a huge island right in the center that could easily seat eight, the counter tops made of a white and grey marble that almost glistens in the sunlight streaming through the windows. All the appliances are a polished stainless steel, and I'm sure they're all the latest available. The sight of it makes me feel a little insecure about my own home.

"Let's head out," Bryce says, walking up behind me.

He's carrying a briefcase in one hand the presumably holds a laptop, a backpack slung over his back as well. He's still jingling car keys in his hand, and although I can't tell exactly which brand of car the keys are for, it's right to assume that it's an expensive vehicle.

I nod at him, feeling a little shy after he caught me gawking at something that must be boring to him as he probably cooks in this kitchen every day.

Is he a good cook? Does he even know how to cook?

I'm sure he's still better than me.

Maybe I'll find out one day.

I follow Bryce back outside and he seems to enable some sort of security system before locking the door after us.

He leads me down towards the garage I was eyeing up earlier, then punching a few numbers into a keypad, making one of the doors opens up.

My jaw must drop a little when I catch a glimpse of all the cars. There must be millions of dollars worth here, not to even start thinking about the cars they must have in Florida as well.

"Shut your mouth. You're not a codfish," he teases, and I understand the reference instantly.

I crinkle my nose at him. "And you're not Mary Poppins."

He smiles at me. A genuine smile. A kind, soft smile, the type I haven't seen from him in too long.

He's standing quite close to me, I notice, and his gaze is still holding mine.

A piece of hair falls astray onto his forehead and I want to push it back, but he beats me to it, breaking our eye contact.

Just like that he pops a sleek white car's trunk open with the click of a button, putting both of our bags inside. He then slams the trunk shut, and we both climb into the car which is scarily low to the ground, nearly causing me to fall into my seat rather than sit down gracefully.