"Where the hell were you?" my mom asks the moment I walk through the door.

Her, Dad, and Charlie all rushed to see me the moment I stepped into the house, and I'm glad that I had been mentally drafting ways that I'm going to apologize for the duration of the car ride over here.

"I'm really sorry. I know that I said I was going to be home last night but it was just better if I stayed the night. It won't happen again, I swear," I promise my parents, both of which look beyond mad at me.

Charlie looks worried as if he's trying to think of ways to defuse the situation, stepping forward towards me.

"Happy birthday," I say, smiling to him, but all he gives me is a brief nod of his head before switching the topic back.

"I shouldn't have left with out you. I wasn't thinking straight, and I feel awful about it even though you begged me to let you stay," Charlie says, and I feel my eyes widen at him.

"What do you mean? I begged you to let me stay?" I question, realizing that maybe Bryce left some of the story out when explaining last night to me.

Charlie looks puzzled, and so I lean forward towards him.

In a whisper so that my parents don't hear, I say, "I don't remember much of last night."

His surprise settles a little, and he responds by saying, "Well, yeah. You insisted that you couldn't leave until you worked things out with Bryce."

In as calm a manner as I can manage, I respond, "All right. Don't worry about leaving me. According to Bryce, I was a very demanding drunk."

I'm careful to lower my voice as quiet as possible at the mention of being drunk, doing a good job at making it impossible for my parents to hear

I can't help but to wonder what could have happened between Bryce and I that he didn't bother mentioning.

For example, if I went to talk to him, it must mean that we probably resolved all our issues already, rendering this morning's conversations pointless.

As soon as Charlie steps back away from me, I'm bombarded with more questions and statements, this time from my dad.

"Not to mention that you didn't even call us. All we got was a text from Bryce, not even from you. We didn't even hear anything until nearly three in the morning! Do you know how worried we were?" he starts, and I have to bite my lip to stop myself from lashing out.

This is exactly why I don't go to parties; because you never know how the night is going to end. I was lucky that it was at Bryce's house, or else I would have been stranded with no place to stay the night.

I feel the slight urge to cry as I'm mentally battling myself, and my mom seems to notice the struggle as she suddenly steps towards me, pulling me into a hug.

"I'm sorry to upset you, Lexi. We were both just terrified that you were in danger," she tells me.

Then pulling back to look me in the eyes, she continues, saying, "I don't mean to overreact, but I'm sure that you can imagine where my mind was wandering."

I nod carefully, thankful that she isn't mad at me.

It's surreal to see how far we've come these past weeks, from when we couldn't be in the same room as one another without starting an argument to bonding over our pasts.

She gives my hand a small squeeze and I give her a faint smile, then watching as she heads back over to stand by my dad. He quickly wraps an arm around her waist and she leans against his shoulder, making my brother's eyes narrow.

"Nothing like that will ever happen again, I swear," I say, and my parents both nod at me.

Not sure what the next move should be for us, I'm hesitant to say anything at all, but I eventually decide that I've never wanted to shower more in my life.

"Is it okay if I go upstairs to get ready?" I ask, and my mom laughs at the question as if she finds it foolish.

"Of course, Lexi. Go ahead," she tells me, and I give her a quick smile before slipping my heels off my feet and scurrying upstairs.

I head straight for my bedroom, grabbing a pair of white jeans and a black T-shirt before walking into the bathroom.

I'm in a rush to pull my hair out from its high bun, running a brush through the long locks to work any tangles out. I then take off my dress, laying it down on the counter before removing my necklace and earrings as well.

When I go to run the shower, I make sure the water is hot to the point it's practically painful before I pull the curtain back, stepping into the steady stream coming from the shower head.

It's a divine feeling as I wash my hair and body, feeling as if I'm scrubbing away all the alcohol and bad memories from last night.

The thought that Bryce and I could have potentially done something that I can't recall still sits a little heavy inside of me, but I convince myself that I'm going crazy.

If we had even just kissed, I would have remembered it, wouldn't I?

🌸🌸🌸

"I'm not thrilled to face everyone today," I confess to Charlie, just as we walk into the warmth of the school building.

"It's been three days. I'm sure everyone is over it," he replies, before giving me a small pat on the shoulder.

We're really early because he has soccer practice, but I forgot about it until this morning so it was a little bit late to call Bryce and ask for a drive with him instead.

Rolling my eyes at his lame attempt to be reassuring, I reply, "Sure. I'll see you at lunch time."

He nods to me, before promptly turning on his heel and walking away, down the hallway towards the gymnasium.

"Hi," a voice behind me suddenly chimes in as soon as Charlie is out of my sight, causing me to nearly have a heart attack.

Upon spinning around, I find Bryce staring down at me with his lips turned up into a huge grin, glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

"God, you scared me," I complain, making Bryce laugh as he takes my hand, walking with me up the stairs towards our lockers.

"My bad," he apologizes, not sounding genuine at all.

I nudge him in the side, which makes him bend down to kiss me on the forehead.

Although I find myself blushing profusely, I keep my eyes glued to the floor, avoiding his heavy gaze.

I drop Bryce's hand as soon as we reach our lockers, and Bryce lets out a small sigh from behind me. I continue to ignore him as I unlock my locker, then slipping my coat off and folding it neatly before placing it inside.

I grab my binders, and when I shut the locker door behind me, I turn around to find Bryce watching me closely, evidently amused.

Setting my backpack on the ground, I crouch down to place my binders inside.

Standing up again and smoothing out my skirt, I find that Bryce is making absolutely no effort to open his own locker.

"Why are you being extra creepy today?" I question, picking my bag up off the floor and slinging it over my shoulder once again.

Bryce's lips turn up into a smile once again, and he leans his face a little closer to mine, causing me to gulp.

He still doesn't say anything, and, getting slightly annoyed, I let out a huff.

"Forehead kisses won't work on me, Bradshaw. You're going to actually have to use your words," I say briskly, and suddenly Bryce rests on of his palms against the locker by my head, forcing me to crane my neck upwards to meet his eyes; he's irritatingly tall.

"You sure about that?" he breathes, and I swallow hard.

He's so close to me that I can almost hear his heart beating in his chest.

I'm sure my own heartbeat is growing faster as Bryce uses his free hand to trace the line of my jaw.

Breathless, I nod at him as a reply, and he gives me a small smirk. I don't appreciate the effect that he has on me, not one bit.

Suddenly, someone clears their throat from behind us, and I'm suddenly reminded that we're still at school.

Bryce steps away from me, turning around to see who interrupted us. He steps to the side to give me a look as well, and I'm super embarrassed to find one of the teachers standing there in front of us, his arms crossed and his head tilted to the side.

Although I don't know his name, I do recognize him as Bryce's Spanish teacher.

"Let's try to keep our hands to ourselves, shall we?" he asks, and Bryce laughs, leaning backwards against the lockers before wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I try to shy away from him, but his grip tightens, making me uncomfortable as there's a teacher still standing right in front of us.

Bryce says something in Spanish that I obviously can't understand, and it makes the teacher laugh, shaking his head at us.

"I don't know why you take my class, Bryce. I'm pretty sure your Spanish is at the same proficiency level as mine," the teacher says, which just makes Bryce smile.

"They wouldn't let me take French because I can speak it too, so unless the school decides to begin teaching Hindi or something, I doubt I'll take a language class that I'll struggle with," Bryce remarks, and the teacher chuckles again, uncrossing his arms and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"They're considering offering Mandarin Chinese in future years. They just weren't sure if enough students would be interested," the teacher says, and Bryce's eyebrows raise up a tad bit.

"I know some Mandarin, actually. I had a friend in Florida who was from China, so she helped me learn," Bryce says, and I have to give myself a moment to process the information.

I don't miss the way that he tenses when he says the word 'friend', but I decide to save that conversation for later.

"Seriously?" I question incredulously, and Bryce nods at me as if it was stupid of me to even ask.

"Good for you, Bryce. Why are you kids here so early?" the teach asks, changing the topic.

Bryce answers for me, saying, "Her brother has soccer practice and I decided to keep her company," with a smile on his face.

The teacher nods at us, before bidding us goodbye and continuing his walk down the hallway. I have no clue where he's going as I'm fairly certain that Bryce's Spanish class isn't in that direction, but I don't get stuck on that.

Instead, I turn to my side to find Bryce staring down at me.

"Your friend from China; is she the girl that's in all those photos with you on Instagram?" I ask him, and he cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows up at me.

I can picture her sleek black hair and catlike eyes perfectly, and the thought of her and Bryce spending a lot of time together has me purring my lips together.

Nodding slowly, he has a worried expression on his face. "Yeah. She is," he answers cautiously.

"She's really pretty," I comment, recalling how envious I was of her when I saw those darn pictures.

"Is she?" Bryce asks me, shrugging his jacket off before opening his locker up.

He tosses the article of clothing inside before slamming the door shut, turning back to me.

I shake my head at him. "I'm sure you must have noticed," I comment, and Bryce's eyes narrow the slightest bit at me.

"She's not as pretty as you. And besides, why would you care?" he responds quickly, and I blink at him.

He can't be serious. She's probably a model or something, and I'm totally . . . average.

I internally scold myself for having these thoughts, feeling the need to compare myself to a girl I don't even know.

"That's not even close to true, and we both know that. Have you had sex with her?" I ask abruptly, and Bryce's jaw practically falls open.

He glances around the hallway to check that we're still alone, and when he confirms that we are, he takes a step towards me, using his hand to tilt my chin up towards him.

I don't know what came over me that caused me to ask the intrusive questions, but it's already been done so there's no taking it back now.

"It's the truth, Blossom. I don't understand how you can look in the mirror every morning and not see yourself the same way that I do. Her name is Scarlett, and to answer your question, yes. I have. Why should it matter?" Bryce says quietly, and I shrug away from his hand on my face, allowing myself to stare down at the floor again.

It's still unclear to me why I bothered asking the question in the first place, being pretty sure of the answer an all. That doesn't mean that it makes the information any easier to hear.

"Don't lie to me; I know that I'm nothing special, and I'm over it," I mutter, avoiding responding to his answer about the pretty girl who I can now put a name to.

"Stop talking shit about yourself. It pisses me off when you do. You're so special, and you better stop telling yourself otherwise," Bryce whispers, and I look up to meet his gaze again.

We're in the school hallways. It doesn't matter if we're alone or not. I really need to get a hold of myself. I'm acting ridiculous.

"Hey Princess! Hey Punkass! How are you guys on this fine Wednesday morning? Still mad at one another?" Jordan asks innocently, strolling into the hallway with a huge smile on his face.

He plants himself right in front of us and Bryce and I take a hurried step away from each other.

Jordan wraps one of his arms around Bryce's shoulder and the other around mine, making Bryce let out an aggravated sigh.

"What's up with the stupid nicknames?" Bryce grumbles, stepping away from Jordan.

Jordan rolls his eyes in reply, squeezing my shoulder and leaning his head against mine.

"So you get to call her 'Blossom' but I don't get to come up with nicknames for you guys?" Jordan asks, and Bryce laughs to himself, turning away from us for a moment, glancing down the hallway.

"I've known her practically my whole life. I met you approximately three months ago, and you met her two and a half years ago. It's different," Bryce claims, before turning on his heel and walking away from us.

Jordan huffs. "Where are you off to, may I ask?" he questions Bryce, who doesn't respond.

Jordan and I reluctantly follow him, watching as he snakes around a corner.

Bryce finally stops in front of the doors to the library, and when he reaches for the handle, I laugh a little.

"It's probably locked," I state, but Bryce ignores me.

To my surprise, the door opens for him, and he gives me a smug smile.

"You were saying?" he questions, walking directly into the room.

Jordan nudges me in the side in a teasing manner and I elbow him back, making us both chuckle as we walk into the area. We find Bryce already seated at a table, pulling a shiny laptop out of his bag.

"I was tired of standing," he says, making Jordan snort as we both sit down across from him.

The librarian isn't here yet which leaves me to question whether or not Bryce used some unknown magical abilities to open the door or not, but lucky for us, that means that we're alone.

"What are you doing?" I ask as Bryce types away on the computer, biting down on his lower lip in concentration.

"I was supposed to get an email from my manager about something but I forgot about the time zone difference from Florida," he sighs, shutting the laptop with a huff before leaning his elbows against the table.

"You have a manager?" Jordan asks, but I'm not quite surprised at this point in time.

No matter how well I think I may know Bryce, more information just keeps popping up.

"Yes. I do," Bryce responds blandly, looking up again.

His gaze darts between the two of us, eventually settling on me when I ask, "What's the email about?"

Bryce gives me a small smile, clearly pleased that I care enough to know.

"It's all just wishful thinking. None of it will happen unless I'm available in New York this time next year," he tells me, and I nod, about to ask more until we're interrupted by another person entering the room.

Mateo is evidently shocked to see the three of us here, sitting altogether, and he doesn't hide it as he lets out a scoff.

"Really, Lexi? After all of the ridiculously, petty things that that guy has done, you're still totally fine being around him?" he asks me, walking over to drop a book on the return cart before stalking across the room towards us.

"What's been up with you and the fact that you've been such a cranky asshole lately, Matt?" Jordan questions rudely, and Mateo glares at him.

If looks could kill, Jordan would be sprawled across the floor right now.

Bryce ignores their exchange, cautiously slipping his laptop back into his bag before I feel his eyes on me once again.

"Stay out of this, Jordan," Mateo says coldly, and Jordan is wise enough to not say anything snarky in reply. Instead, he stares down at his hands, crossing them in his lap with a small shake of his head.

I look up to find Mateo staring at me. His palms are resting on the table, and the way he's standing is awfully intimidating.

It takes all I have within me to bravely tell him off, saying, "You don't get to control my feelings, Matt. I'm allowed to forgive and forget whenever I please. I don't know why you have such a hard time with me spending time with him, but you don't have to parent me. I can handle myself. Just because nothing is ever going to work out between us doesn't mean that you have to act bitter towards who I choose to spend my time with."

Jordan lets out a low whistle, making me feel quite satisfied with myself.

Mateo at first appears stunned, but then lets out a sharp breath.

"You really don't think there'll every be any feelings between us?" Mateo asks, and I answer him by shaking my head 'no'.

Mateo sighs, drumming his fingers against the tabletop.

"Okay. I really did like you, though. Truthfully, I still do like you. I'm sorry that things ended up this way," he tells me, and I take a minute to look at him.

His golden blond hair lays perfectly atop his head, and his warm amber eyes are not threatening whatsoever.

I quickly recognize that blonds aren't, and never have been, my type.

"Can we try and get things back to the way they were before any of this? I miss our friendship," I say to Mateo, and he gives me a small smile, followed by a nod.

"Of course, Lexi," he says, directed only at me, before glancing to Bryce and Jordan to say, "I'll see you guys around."

Just like that, he's exited the library, disappearing from our line of view.

"He really thought that he had a chance with you even after everything that's happened between you guys?" Jordan asks, breaking the awkward silence. He gestures between Bryce and as he says this, but Bryce doesn't notice as he's texting on his phone now.

"It's not like that," I say, and it feels as though I've said these words a million times over.

"Really? Then why did you spend New Year's Eve overnight at his place?" Jordan quips, and I gape at him.

"How did you know about that?" I hiss, not being able to remember ever talking to Jordan about what actually went down that night, and Bryce seems to be listening in because a slight smile grows on his face.

My eyes widen. "You voluntarily talk to each other outside of school?" I ask, and Bryce finally looks up at me.

"You really find it that hard to believe that I'm capable of being social?" Bryce questions accusingly, and I give him a shy smile.