"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean what I said," I apologize for the trillionth time, and once again, Bryce's only response is a shake of his head, telling me, "Don't worry about it. There's nothing wrong with speaking the truth."

The issue is, I can't stop worrying about it.

Not to mention that what I said couldn't be farther from the truth. Bryce is so sweet and I can tell that he has tons of love in his heart even if he refuses to show it. And though his response would tell me otherwise, I can tell by the sad glint in his eyes that what I said left a mark on him.

I rest my hand on his bicep and he quickly pulls away, slamming his locker shut.

I ignore the sparks that I had felt when my fingertips touched his bare skin, following him like a lost puppy as he walks away from the locker complex, down the hallway and stairs.

"Why did you call me yesterday?" I ask, and he spins around to face me.

We're early, and nobody is in the hallway with us really, only a few students roaming around and chatting.

He takes a deep breath in, and I'm scared I pushed too much even with just that simple question.

"You want an honest answer? It's because I'm lonely, all right? My dad has been away for longer than usual, and I fucking hate being alone in that big ass mansion. Sure, I was thinking about you as I was watching TV and I began wondering about your piercings and all, but I just needed to hear another person's voice before I went mad," he says calmly, and I get a strange idea.

I step forward closer to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist, resting my face against his chest.

To my surprise, his arms wrap around me, holding me in this embrace. He presses his lips against the top of my head, and I feel my heart beat growing faster.

"You deserve to be happy. I'm sorry that you feel that way," I whisper, and I could've sworn that I heard him sniffle.

🌸🌸🌸

"I definitely failed this test," Mateo says, leaning to the left in his seat to whisper to me.

I roll my eyes at him, knowing that he did great and is being nervous for no apparent reason.

He's referring to the big math test we had taken over a month ago, the day Bryce was severely hungover. If any of the three of us are to be concerned about a grade, it should certainly be Bryce.

This theory seems to be confirmed when our teacher lays Bryce's test down on the table. The paper is unfortunately facedown, meaning I can't see what his exact mark was, and Bryce doesn't bother checking before he looks up to meet the teacher's eyes.

"Can you speak to me after class?" he asks, and Bryce nods in response, causing the teacher to turn to Mateo and I, setting down both our tests respectively.

"Nicely done," he says to both of us, and we hurriedly flip the papers over, anxious to view our marks.

My eyes scanning my paper, Mateo taps me on the shoulder. "What did you get?" he asks me, and I beam at him.

"I got a ninety-four-point-five," I answer, and he raises his hand for a high five.

"So did I," he grins, and our hands collide for that high five.

Sure, a ninety-four-point-five isn't a perfect mark, but this is a really hard class, so that being considered, we both did pretty well.

"What was that about? Did you fail?" the girl beside Bryce asks, ignoring the test placed down on the desk in front of her.

Bryce shakes his head at her despite not even looking at his paper yet, and I find myself intrigued.

This is why I continue to eavesdrop on their conversation, momentarily thinking that Bryce may have caught me as he leans back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest.

"But you haven't checked your grade yet," she says, having the same thoughts as me.

Without looking at his mark himself, he slides the paper off the table, handing it to the girl.

Her eyes widen as she gazes over the test, flipping through and examining all six pages before handing it back to him.

"Damn, okay then," she says, and Bryce smirks at her.

Clearly feeling brave, Mateo reaches across to take the paper right out of Bryce's hands, something that doesn't seem to faze him as he just lets it happen.

"You've got to be kidding me," Mateo huffs, handing the paper back to Bryce who simply sets it down on his desk.

"What is it?" I ask Mateo, and his eyes narrow as he continues to stare at Bryce.

Finally turning back to me, Mateo answers, "He got one hundred percent."

My eyes widen at him, and then at Bryce, who is watching this whole exchange.

"Really? Wow," I gape, seeing as I'm pretty sure no one has gotten perfect marks on a test or quiz in this class all year.

Bryce nods at me, and I can't help but to grin at him. This seems to shock him as he slowly blinks a few times at me, but it would be lying to say that I wasn't a little proud of him.

He's incredibly intelligent, that's no surprise, so I'm thrilled to hear that he's using that brain of his well. "Good job," I smile, and Bryce scoots his chair back so that he can actually have a conversation with me in this free time.

The teacher still has the majority of tests to pass out, so we take advantage of this window of time.

"I'm really proud of you, you know," I tell him, and he gets a giddy grin on his face like a five-year-old child who just got a new toy.

"Really?" he asks, and I nod once again, which makes him reach for my hand, linking our fingers.

"Yeah, of course I am. I know that you've been through a ton recently, and I'm glad to see that you're still doing great academically," I smile, every single word truthful.

I understand that it's just one test, which is why it seems a little silly to be making such a big deal over this.

That being said, Bryce was hungover when he took this test which scared me enough, and there was a bit of a guilt component too seeing as I'm pretty sure that Bryce had gotten drunk because of what happened between us the night before.

That kiss.

He's grinning at me now, and I'm thrilled to see that smile again. It all feels like a step in the right direction.

"All right class, listen up. I was told to hand out these permission forms to you all before the end of class. All of the students in twelfth grade are going to be travelling to New Brunswick to tour a university and get a feel for campus life. We'll be going for two nights in mid-January, and everybody will be staying in dorms," the teacher says, interrupting Bryce and I's exchange.

Bryce is forced to turn back around in his seat, and when I look to my side I see that Mateo appears annoyed.

I can't see how throwing a bunch of seventeen-year-olds on buses together for a few hours is going to have any positive benefits whatsoever, but when a permission slip is laid down on my desk, I slip it, along with my test, directly into my backpack with no complaints.

Bryce seems to be reviewing the form intently, and with an exasperated sigh, he mutters, "Is this shit mandatory?"

Our teacher spins around from where he's standing a few desks in front of Bryce. and he chuckles to himself.

"Watch your language, Mr. Bradshaw," he scolds," and Bryce gives him an unimpressed look.

"To answer your question, no. But all the teachers are doing their best to make sure the outing is enjoyable for the students, so I would advise that you decide to partake," he continues, and Bryce crosses his arms across his chest, tapping his foot against the floor.

He's wearing a pair of grey Vans today, and he looks really good in his white T-shirt and light-wash denim jeans.

He seems to catch me staring out of the corner of his eye because he shoots me a playful smile before folding the permission slip in half, pushing it to the corner of his desk.

I find myself blushing, slightly embarrassed that he caught me gazing at him, but I quickly lose the chance to even think about the encounter before the class begins, and I'm having to pay full attention to the equations being written on the board if I want to understand anything.

Meanwhile, Bryce seems to be barely paying any of his focus to the class, and I catch him frequently sneaking his phone out of his pocket to check on it.

Deciding to ask him what's going on, I raise my pencil up, tapping him on the back.

He spins around to face me, then leaning down so that our faces are level.

"Is everything all right?" I ask him, and he nods at me.

He doesn't bother to explain at first, but when I raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, saying, "I'm just getting texts from a friend from Florida. It's no big deal; don't worry about it."

"A 'friend'," I ask, and Bryce chuckles at me.

Raising a hand up to tap me on the nose, he then tells me, "Yes. A 'friend'. Her name is Scarlett."

She must be the girl from Instagram!

"You good?" Bryce asks me, and when I nod at him he gives me an uneasy smile but eventually turns back around to face the door.

He's certainly not paying any attention, and Mateo seems to take note of this too because he rolls his eyes in Bryce's general direction.

"Glad to see that he's invested in this class," Mateo huffs, and though I'm almost certain that Bryce must have heard that, his expression miraculously remains neutral.

I turn to Mateo, giving him a brief shake of my head and pressing a finger across my lips to silence him, but he seems bothered by this when he slams his elbows against the surface of his desktop, arching his back forward in his seat.

"I'm sure that he can defend himself, Lexi," Mateo spits, and this causes Bryce to raise his middle finger up behind his back towards Mateo, despite his attention stealing being fixed forwards.

"Lexi? Bryce? Mateo? Is there an issue?" the teacher asks us, clicking the cap back onto his whiteboard marker.

All three of our heads simultaneously snap in his direction, and Bryce is the first one to answer.

Lowering his finger and slipping his hands into his pocket, he says, "Everything is great, Mr. Stone. Thanks for asking."

His delivery is so serious and solemn that the teacher doesn't even say anything back. He just nods, going on with the rest of the class as if nothing ever even happened.

The next forty-five minutes until the bell went completely drama-free, thank God, and when the familiar ringing of the lunch bell finally signaled, I hurried to shove my belongings into my bag. Mateo stands up quickly as well, joining me in the line of students filing out the classroom door and into the hallway.

Bryce, on the other hand, heads straight for the teacher's desk, flattening his palms against the wooden surface. I can't make out what they're saying from where I'm standing, but they already seem deep in conversation so I walk with Mateo out the door.

I contemplate waiting for Bryce, but Mateo doesn't really give me the option as he practically drags me out of the room and down to the cafeteria.

We wait in line to grab our food, and after we pick up our filled trays, we head for our usual table.

"I kind of think green would be a good look, but at the same time I really want to dye it pink," is the first thing I hear, said by Jasmine.

She's speaking to Jordan, and based on the way that she's twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers, I think it's appropriate to assume that she's considering dyeing her hair yet another obscure colour.

"Honestly, I really like your blue hair, Jazzy," I chime in, sitting down across from Jasmine and directly beside Jordan. He gives me a small wave and I smile back, watching Mateo avoid the seat next to me, probably assuming that Bryce would like to sit there.

Jasmine lets out a small sigh, and I see that her phone is laying face-up on the cafeteria table.

She seems to be swiping through photos on Pinterest that showcase a variety of different hair colours and styles. Jordan is hunched forward to look as well, and I see Daniel taking quick peeks at the screen from where he's sitting beside her despite the conversation that he's holding with my brother.

"I really like the blue too. It's just that my hair has been the same colour for, like, four months. That seems like a long time," Jasmine sighs, and I chuckle a little at how seriously she takes all of this.

Not to mention how she considers 'four months' a long time for her hair to look the same, meanwhile I haven't cut my hair in ages and have never dared to dye my hair before.

As if reading my mind, Jordan jumps in, commenting, "You'd look really good blonde, Lex."

I'm not given a chance to respond before Bryce sits down beside me, saying, "I think she looks great just the way he is."

Of course, knowing my luck, my brother catches this comment, and he turns to me, winking with a giddy smile on his face.

I narrow my eyes at him, and he chuckles, turning back to speak to Daniel and Ryan.

"You always seem to have an opinion, don't you?" Mateo cuts in, looking straight at Bryce, sucking all the fun right out of our conversation.

Jasmine and Jordan are suddenly tuned into what's going between them, and Jasmine shuts her phone off, slipping it into her pocket so that she can pay her full attention to the pair in front of us.

I see the rise and fall of Bryce's chest as he takes a deep breath in, being wise and choosing to not respond.

Mateo doesn't let it go, and continues to prod at Bryce. I'm extremely irritated by his behaviour recently, and I wish he would go back to not acting so unnecessarily petty lately.

"You're not sitting with your latest hookup today, I see," Mateo says, nodding his head to across the cafeteria, right to Camila and her friends.

Has he hooked up with her already?

I guess they've known each other for two months now, and even though I'm not personally planning on climbing into a bed with Bryce any time, I still feel jealousy growing in the pit of my stomach.

Bryce is chewing slowly on a bite of his sandwich, but when he swallows, his eyes are filled with flames as he looks up to Mateo.

"What's your damage, bro? I don't understand why you hate me this much," Bryce says calmly, and Mateo bursts out laughing.

"For the last time, I'm not your brother or your friend, so stop calling me 'bro'. Also, I think you're more than capable of answering that question for yourself, Golden Boy. How about you scan that big brain of yours to see why I could possibly be pissed at you," Mateo spits, and Bryce's jaw visibly clenches.

Terrified that another fight is about to break out between them, I rest my hand on top of Bryce's which is gripping his thigh not-so-subtly.

I feel some of the tension drop from his shoulders, and he flips his hand around underneath mine so that we can link fingers.

Jordan leans forward in his seat, and his eyes widen when he sees us holding hands. I have to nudge him in the side hoping that he keeps his mouth shut, and luckily, he does.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll

keep your fucking mouth shut," Bryce hisses, and I turn to him, my eyes widening.

"What are you guys talking about?" I ask, and when Bryce's eyes meet mine I see a momentary flicker of something that looks a lot like fear.

It instantly vanishes when Mateo speaks up again, saying, "Yeah, Bryce. What's up? Why don't you just tell her?"

"Tell me what?" I ask again, now getting desperate.

I look around at all my other friends, hoping that someone understands what's happening. To my displeasure, everyone looks just as lost as I am, and so no one seems to have the answer I want.

Bryce shakes his head. "Nothing important, Blossom. You've got to stop overthinking everything today," he says in almost a teasing way.

His delivery is so normal that I forget all

about the situation before us for a second, and so when Mateo doesn't say anything more, I let it slide.

"So is everybody excited about the field trip?" I ask, switching to another topic.

Bryce groans from beside me, and I note how he still has a firm grasp on my hand. I smile secretly at how much he seems to hate the concept of spending time with our peers for that long, but Jasmine is peppy as always, and she seems thrilled about the trip.

"I'm so excited! I mean, we get to miss three days of school, and we get to torment our teachers on the bus. You'll be my roommate, right Lex? If not, I honestly don't know who I'll be stuck with," she starts, and I nod in response to her question.

"What do you mean? Does that mean you can't room with me?" Bryce pouts, and I giggle at the way he's sticking his lower lip out.

"I don't think they let guys and girls share a room, Bryce," I tell him, and his pout turns to a small grin.

"Well then screw them," Bryce says, and I playfully pinch him in the arm.

He removes his hand from mine, wrapping it protectively around my waist to pull me closer towards him. I look up at him to see him reaching for my bottle of water, and I lean my cheek against Bryce's shoulder, all those fleeting thoughts of Camila and him vanishing.

Bryce untwists the cap of the bottle and I crinkle my nose at him.

"You could at least ask if you could have a sip," I say, and Bryce ignores me as he takes a drink from the bottle before securing the cap once again.

"Too bad," he grins.