When my alarm wakes me up in the morning, by head is aching and I would do anything to catch another couple hours of sleep. All I want to do is curl up under a couple blankets and cry some more.

Why is this hurting me so badly? It's not like I'm going through a breakup; the things that I've been told for the past month just seem to have finally set in.

I just don't understand how he's sometimes so nice to me, holding me to his chest when I'm crying or telling me how beautiful I am when I'm feeling a little insecure. Every moment I'm with him, I feel happy and safe and he momentarily makes everything in the world seem right again.

He must at least care a little about me for us to be spending all this time together, but I'm starting to doubt it.

I reluctantly make my way out of bed, heading straight for the closet and settling for a black sweater dress and some black tights. I finish my makeup in a rush, applying a thick coat of lipgloss before pulling my hair up into a bun on the top of my head.

When I look at myself in the mirror I decide against the updo, seeing as Bryce enjoys my hair up, and I undo the bun, slipping my feet into a pair of black flats before stepping out into the hallway where I find Charlie running up the stairs, an apple in his hand.

"Is everything good?" I ask him, and he stops to nod at me.

"Yeah, I forgot my bag up here. You're running late. We have to leave in a few minutes," he tells me, and my eyes widen at him.

"We have over an hour, no?" I ask, confused as of to why he's rushing.

He shakes his head at me. "I have soccer practice. Bryce texted me to say he can't drive you today for some reason so you have to come with me," he explains, and I feel my anger suddenly grow again.

I'm glad to see he can't grow up and get over it, and I'll have to talk to him later as much as I don't want to. This isn't Charlie's fault though, so I just nod at him, walking down stairs with him after he grabs his backpack.

My heart is heavy in my chest on the drive to school, and I think it dropped even more when we pull into the driveway and I see Camila stepping out of Bryce's truck.

He follows after her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and saying something in her ear that makes her giggle as they walk up the stairs and into the building.

I suddenly feel something settle in my heart, something clicking in my brain.

I like him.

A lot.

And it's stupid of me because I know he doesn't feel the same but I think that the ridiculous crush I had on him in middle school has stuck around.

But now it's too late to do anything because he's ignoring me, which hurts like hell.

I hate myself for not sticking to my promise of staying out of romance in high school, but I've already fallen and it would be a lost cause to try to stop me now.

"Well damn," Charlie says, opening his door up and stepping out of the vehicle. I do the same, and we walk together until the building silently.

"Why is he even here this early?" I huff, and Charlie laughs as we walk up the stairs.

"You're jealous, of her, aren't you?" he mocks, and I spin around to glare at him as I walk in through the doorway.

"Why would you say that?" I snap, watching as he raises an eyebrow at me.

"I think you're mad that Bryce likes her so much, and that he's paying her more attention than you," he claims, stopping to finish our conversation seeing as he has a practice to get to.

I shake my head at him, irritated with how right he is, and he sighs, turning to walk away from me.

"Enjoy your time in denial. I'll see you later," he says to me, and I glare at the back of his head as he exits the room, down the hall and out in the direction of the field.

I stand there blankly for a moment before I head up the stairs and into the hall with our lockers. I find no one there except for Bryce and Camila, who are sitting on the floor and chatting.

He doesn't even look at me when I enter the hall and head over to my locker, twisting open the lock and grabbing my binders. I toss my jacket in as well before slipping the binders into my backpack, planning on heading right downstairs to find a bench to sit on or something.

"Hey Lexi! You should come sit with us," Camila says to me as I turn around, her smile genuine.

Bryce doesn't look at me, staring down at his phone to try and avoid eye contact. It's irritating me to an extreme, and I find myself missing his wide smile and annoying teasing already.

I'm mad that he brought Camila into this rather than just simply talking to me.

I knew that kissing him would be a bad idea. We had such a good friendship going and doing anything that's not purely platonic messes a friendship up.

Yet at the same time, there's still an undeniable other thought at the back of my mind; kissing Bryce felt so right.

Just the thought of having his lips pressed against mine again sends butterflies straight to my stomach. His hands felt so right on my waist, and I can't ignore how natural it felt to run my fingers through his hair like that. I'm at ease and happy beyond compare typically whenever he's around, and I can't help but to crave his touch, even in a gesture as simple as him holding my hand.

Maybe this is all my fault. Perhaps I should listen to Bryce's advice and not take everything so seriously. It's just that I haven't done much of anything with anybody, so everything is still very new and exciting to me. Bryce is clearly way more 'experienced' than me and I almost feel guilty for taking out all my frustration on him.

"I'm good, thanks," I finally answer Camila, and she nods at me with a small smile.

She has on a sheer red lipstick and her hair is curled in soft waves. She's wearing a black tank top and matching ripped jeans along with a pair of white sneakers.

Her and Bryce sitting together look like the perfect couple, and I feel like I'm a definite third-wheel in this scenario which is why I hurry out of the hallway, back down the stairs.

I have to use the rail for support because my knees feel wobbly and I generally feel unsteady.

There's a vacant bench against one of the walls filled with bulletin boards that advertise upcoming school events, such as sports games or school musical auditions.

I take a seat on the bench, letting my backpack drop off my shoulders and fall onto the floor in front of my feet. I rummage around in the front pocket until I find my phone and earbuds, plugging the earbuds into the device and then popping the buds into my ears before opening up Spotify and selecting a musical to listen to.

I choose Beauty and the Beast, but rather than clicking on the first song in the show I hit shuffle. A Change in Me begins to play and I pucker my lips as I listen closely to the lyrics.

Deciding to skip the rest of the song halfway through, I put on the cheerier Hairspray, leaning back in my seat and shutting my eyes for a minute. I would love nothing more than to go back home and take a nap, but I obviously would never dare to skip class when it's not necessary.

A few minutes pass and I've listened to a handful of songs, watching silently as more and more students arrive, filing down different hallways to presumably locate their lockers.

This is when I feel someone tapping me on the shoulder, and I quickly turn around.

As much as I secretly wanted to see Bryce's face in front of me, I discover that it's instead Mateo that came to talk to me.

Nevertheless, I put on a smile for him, moving over on the bench to make room. He takes the open seat and I pull my earbuds out of my ears, pausing the music and wrapping the wire around my phone.

"Are you okay? Why are you down here all alone?" Mateo asks me, and I look up so that our eyes meet.

His amber eyes are sincere, but I know that there's no way that I'm talking to him about the internal struggle I'm going through at the moment.

"Yeah, Matt. I'm fine," I answer, but he doesn't look convinced when he reaches for my hand. His touch is cold and it leaves me thinking about the warmth Bryce's hands always have.

"You sure, Lex? What did he do this time?" he continues to prod and I wish he would just drop it.

By 'him' he's clearly referring to Bryce, and I don't think it could get any weirder than talking about Bryce with Mateo.

I give him a nod of my head, saying, "He didn't do anything. It's fine."

I'm starting to believe that more and more, blaming myself for being so lame and insecure, which caused my slight breakdown.

Mateo begins to speak again, asking, "Really? Because I wouldn't be at all surprised if he—"

"Why do you hate him so much?" I blurt out, cutting him off.

His eyes widen a little and I notice his jaw clench ever so slightly. I feel bad for having the huge urge to defend him but it's still there and hard to ignore.

"I don't hate him. I just think he has a questionable family which is a person's biggest influence, so it would make sense for him to have a similar personality and mindset to his parents. You do know what happened, right? Because you'd be lying if you told me that you don't think it's all super messed up," he snorts, and his words are cold and harsh.

I can't believed I've been blindsided to this half of Mateo's personality the whole time I've known him. It doesn't make sense that I missed how defensive and almost aggressive he can be sometimes, but I don't like it one bit.

I pull my hand away from his, folding them in my lap as I stare down at the space on the bench between where we're sitting.

"Just because you don't like his parents doesn't mean you can't at least try to like him. We're not our parents, Matt. We're our own people," I say calmly, and when I look back to his face, he's holding a strong gaze.

Because the universe seems to be plotting against me these past twenty-four hours, I hear the faint sound of conversation behind me.

I know the voices straight away, and when I turn around I see Bryce and Camila walking together. I expect them to be holding hands or something, but to both my surprise and relief, they aren't.

I must have wasted more time aimlessly sitting here doing nothing than I had thought, because by the looks of it they're on their way to class.

Camila gives me a small wave as they pass, and I feel Mateo's breath suddenly against my neck as he leans in to my ear.

"So that's what he did," he comments aloud as we watch them walk away, turning down the hallway.

I spin around suddenly, glaring at Mateo, but then my tough facade crumbles when he pulls me a little closer to him so that my face is resting in the crook of his neck. He smells like citrus and it's a smell I gladly welcome.

"All he seems to do is make you upset," Mateo whispers against my head, and I have to take a few deep breaths to calm myself before I answer.

"That's not true," I reply meekly, and Mateo bites down on his lip.

"I just want to see you smile," he says quietly.

My emotions really just enjoy toying with me lately, because one moment I'm craving Bryce's attention and the next I'm swooning over how sweet Mateo's words are.

It's reminding me that I'm just a stupid, naive teenage girl who is too young to be expecting a mature relationship with a boy my age.

Bryce's reappearance seems to be making me forget about all the things I promised myself at the beginning of the school year in September; no relationships, no emotions, no connections to a city I'm likely leaving in ten months.

"I'm sorry about what happened between us at the cottage, Matt. I wish it didn't go down like that," I tell him, and he nods, brushing his fingertips through my hair.

"It's okay, Lexi. Don't worry about it. I just hope things can be good between us again. I still want us to be friends, and I would love to be more if you ever wanted the same," he says and I'm shocked by how bold he is.

I'm truthfully kind of speechless, not sure how to respond. Luckily I don't even have the choice to say anything, as a loud sound cuts our chatting off.

The bell rings, warning us that we need to be in class soon, and so I stand up, picking my bag up off the ground.

Mateo gets up as well, asking me, "You have voice for first period, right?"

I answer with a nod of my head, and he sighs. "Darn. I have to get upstairs for chem. I guess I'll see you for math," he smiles before turning to walk away towards the main staircase.

I watch after him for a few seconds before I turn around, walking down the hallway and towards the music room.

When I walk in the door, most people are already seated, and conveniently, one of the only open seats is next to Camila who already has Bryce seated on her other side.

I really don't have anything against her, and up until Bryce she has never really done anything to let me develop any opinion on her at all. This is why I sit next to her, smiling back when she grins at me.

Bryce doesn't look at me and so I fight fire with fire by ignoring him as well. Even though all the signs are pointing towards him wanting this, he seems irritated, and ends up leaning behind Camila to jab me in the finger with his finger.

"What?" I snap, but I instantly melt when I see his face.

His eyes are soft even though there are still evident traces of frustration lingering there. His sharp eyebrows are raised the faintest bit, and his head is tilted to the side in the most adorable away.

It's hard to stay mad at him, and impossible to hate him, when he's staring at me like this.

"I just wanted to know if you slept all right last night," he says, and what I had just spent the majority of my morning deciding suddenly no longer matters.

It's crazy what just one look and a handful of words from him can do to me.

"Yeah," I reply, breathless.

My heart never races like this whenever I'm with Mateo, and he never brings me this level of excitement just from sitting there and speaking with me.

Bryce gives me a lazy smile, and when he leans back in his seat I realize how exhausted he looks. His eyes are a little red now that I'm looking at it, and I can see slight bags there too, which, by some miracle, he usually doesn't have.

"Good to hear," he says, yawning.

That's when something clicks in place for me, and I figure out what's going on with him right now.

"Bryce, are you drunk?" I ask him, just as the final bell rings.

He turns back to me, seeming to think for a moment, before responding, "Not at the moment. Very hungover though. Not the best look on me. Would not recommend."

At the mention of Bryce consuming alcohol, my gaze darts up to find where the teacher is. After the trouble he got into already in his first couple weeks here, first about his tattoos and then about the fight with Mateo, I'm scared that a teacher knowing this would be extra bad. Thankfully, she's out of range to hear our conversation, so I turn back to Bryce.

"Didn't you tell me that you don't drink much?" I ask quietly, then putting a finger across my lips to show that Bryce should do the same.

He gets the message, leaning closer to me. "I don't drink for no reason. I drink when I want to get drunk out my mind and forget something," he answers, but I understood what he was hinting at.

He realizes what he said too late, and when he turns back around in his seat, he looks a little regretful.

Does this mean that he's upset by our fight last night too? Or is he mad that he kissed me in the first place?

Thoughts like this are swimming through my mind for the duration of the morning, all through voice and math. Bryce didn't speak to me again all morning for some strange reason, but I notice that the signs of there being alcohol in his system are disappearing. We had a test in math which worries me because Bryce is certainly not in the right state of mind for that, but knowing him he'll still probably get one of the best grades in the class.

At lunch time, Bryce promptly disappears before we even get to the cafeteria. I look around for him for a moment, but he isn't anywhere to be found so I walk with Mateo instead.

"How do you feel you did on the test?" Mateo asks me as we link arms, heading downstairs towards the cafeteria to meet up with the rest of our friends.

I let out a sigh at his question, answering, "Not sure. I think I did okay, but not great."

"I'm sure you did great," he reassures me, giving my arm a squeeze.

"I definitely think I screwed it up, though," he continues, and I shake my head at him, knowing that he probably did good as well.

We turn a corner into the cafeteria, walking over to our usual table. I sit down next to Jordan on one of the benches, setting down my bag before standing back up to go and grab something to eat.

I find it odd that Bryce had vanished like that after the test, and I expected to find him already seated here or something of the sorts.

Instead, as Jordan and I are walking to get food, I see him sitting and laughing with Camila and her friends.

Glad to see that he's giving a very clear message about where we stand right now.

Catch the sarcasm?

Yeah, me too.