"Miss Brooks? I really don't appreciate the use of phones in my classroom during class time," my law teacher says, staring straight at me.

I blink a few times at her, before giving her a sheepish smile and slipping my phone back into my pocket.

She's standing right in front of the table that I'm sitting at right now, and although I'm expecting her to hold her hand out for me to give up the device, I'm thankful that she doesn't.

"I'm super sorry. It won't happen again. It's just school stuff," I apologize to her, and she tilts her head to the side, nodding as if she understands where I'm coming from.

"School stuff? University related?" she asks me, leaning her arms down on the tabletop to stare at me.

I nod at her quickly. "Yeah. I'm really stressed. My bad," I tell her, and she gives me a confused look.

"I didn't realize any of the universities here were releasing decisions today. I usually have more students on the edge of their seats all day. Which school?" she asks me.

"Oh, nowhere local. I'm waiting to hear back from Juilliard. It's a bit of a big deal, as I'm sure you can understand," I answer her, and she suddenly stands up straight.

"Juilliard? Interesting. Don't interpret this the wrong way, but why are you taking my class if you're pursuing the Arts?" she then asks me, and I shrug at her.

"I find it interesting, and it's a good distraction from all the theatre related things I do," I tell her, and she smiles at me, tucking the pen in her hand back behind her ear.

"I see. I'll let this time slide, but I'd really appreciate if this didn't happen again, Lexi. Now go back to your work," she directs, turning on her heel and walking away to answer the questions of students across the room.

"What was that all about?" a boy sitting across the table from me asks.

"It's nothing," I lie to him, and though he looks quizzical, raising an eyebrow at me, his eyes go back to his textbook and he begins to continue taking notes in his binder.

I try to do the same, flipping to the next page of the textbook chapter, but I can't focus.

My eyes are seeing the words, but my brain isn't processing the information. I end up reading the same line over and over again, but it still doesn't get any better.

My head is full of thoughts about Juilliard and New York City, Bryce and all the new opportunities sure to come to me.

Bryce.

I feel that now, if I don't get accepted, I'm no longer just letting down myself; I'd be letting him down too. He wants us to have a future together, but I'm scared that we won't be able to have the future we want unless we live in the same city these next few years.

🌸🌸🌸

"Why are you still here? I thought you were off last period?" I ask Bryce when I approach our lockers.

For some reason, he's leaning against the rows of metal doors with his backpack by his feet on the floor. He's typing on his phone, but upon hearing my voice he gets a giddy grin on his face, tucking the device away before pulling me into a hug.

"Woah. Why so affectionate?" I ask against his chest. He pulls away to look me in the eye, but he keeps his hands on my waist.

"No particular reason. I'm just trying to stay positive. Have you heard anything yet?" he asks me, a slight gleam in his eyes, but I just shake my head at him.

I had checked my emails again right before I left my final class, and I still hadn't received anything.

His eyes go a little sad, but he bends down to kiss me on the forehead anyway. I reach up to hold his face, staring into his eyes for a minute before pulling away to unlock the lock of my locker.

I drop all my things inside before lining my books up neatly on the shelf, shutting the door behind me. When I turn around, I find that Bryce is still watching me intently.

"Seriously though; why are you still here? Don't you want to get home as soon as possible?" I ask him, and he shrugs at me.

That's when Charlie walks up to us, tapping me on the shoulder. I turn around to look at him, and he pulls his earbuds out of his ears so that we can have an actual conversation.

"You ready to go?" he asks me, and I nod, turning back to face Bryce and say goodbye to him.

Just as I open my mouth to speak, he cuts me off. "Wait. Can I drive you home, Blossom?" he asks me, and I don't get a chance to even respond to him before my brother answers for me.

"Yeah, that's a great idea! I'm going over to Jasmine's place," he announces, before hurrying out of the hallway and down the stairs.

"Damn. He's so pussywhipped," Bryce comments as we watch my brother leave.

I bite my lip to stop myself from bursting out laughing, and Bryce reaches for my hand, giving it a squeeze.

He smiles at my reaction to his joke, and all I do is shake my head at him as we walk down the hallway together.

We're still holding hands as we exit the building, walking down the parking lot to where we had parked earlier this morning.

"Do you want to come inside until my parents get home tonight? If anything comes in before then and Charlie getting home, I'd rather not be alone. I'll probably need some comfort if I end up having yet another breakdown," I say, climbing into my seat and closing the car door behind me.

I can hear Bryce chuckling as he buckles his seatbelt, dropping his bag behind his seat before starting the car up.

"I'd love that. It means more time with my girl, even if she's a nervous wreck all night," he jokes, and I poke him in the arm, crinkling my nose at him.

He pretends to ignore my reaction, pulling out of the parking spot with a sly smile on his face.

Bryce asks me all about my classes on the ride home, and I tell him the story of getting in trouble with my law teacher over my phone. He finds this hilarious, going on about how he must be a 'shitty influence' on me, and all I can do is roll my eyes at him.

Apparently he was bored and lonely without me during his free period, but I'm still thankful he stuck around to wait for me.

When we finally pull up outside my house, Bryce thinks for a moment before parking on the street.

"I was going to park in the driveway but that's probably not a great idea if your parents get home before I leave. You're probably going to have to sneak me upstairs and hide me in your room if that happens. I guess I'll have to climb down that damn tree again," Bryce says with a sigh, and I can't help but to burst out giggling.

He beams at me, unlocking the car doors and stepping outside. I join him, slinging my bag over my shoulder before walking up the stairs with Bryce following directly behind me.

"Can you grab my key for me? It's in the smallest pocket of my bag," I ask Bryce, who nods.

He retrieves the key, handing it to me, but before he zips the pocket up again, he lets out a huff.

"You have cinnamon gum in here and you didn't tell me? That's my favourite," he whines like a child, and I nudge him in the arm.

"So that's why your lips always taste like cinnamon?" I ask him, unlocking the front door before pushing it open and stepping inside.

I drop my bag by the stairs before turning around to face Bryce again, who's currently closing and locking the door after us.

"Yeah, I guess so," he says with a grin, before drawing me into his body by wrapping his arms around me.

His hands fan out against my back, and he's about to bend down to kiss me as if to prove a point before I press my palms against his chest, pushing him away.

"Nope. I'm going upstairs to change, but I'll be right back. You can go sit down in the living room and put on whatever you want on the TV. Just no horror movies, please," I say to him, and he sticks out his bottom lip at me.

Laughing, I unzip my boots, taking them off my feet before picking them up to bring them back upstairs to my closet. I wink at Bryce, whose arms are crossed as he watches me from by the door, before skipping up the stairs and towards my bedroom.

I close the door behind me for good measure, seeing as I sort of don't trust Bryce to keep out, before heading to my dresser and grabbing a pair of silk shorts. I take my jeans off, pulling the shorts up my legs and then walking across the room to dump my jeans in my laundry basket.

As I pull my hair up into a bun at the top of my head, I then go back downstairs, finding Bryce's shoes lined up neatly by the door. I smile secretly at the sight before continuing on to the living room.

There, I find Bryce sitting on the couch and staring blankly up at the ceiling. His head snaps towards me when I enter the room, eyes going wide as he takes in my appearance.

"Shit, Blossom," he says calmly as I head over to him on the couch.

I attempt to sit down beside him, but he grabs a hold of my hips, pulling me down directly into his lap.

"We have a whole two couches to ourselves, and you want me sitting right on top of you?" I ask him, to which he nods, fingertips suddenly tracing down my thighs.

Wearing shorts was officially an awful idea.

"I'm surprised nobody pranked any of our teachers for April Fools," I say, trying to distract Bryce with a new conversation topic.

He doesn't fall for my attempt though, gently pressing a kiss to the base of my neck. His lips linger there for a moment, and it causes a massive shiver to rack through my entire body.

"I'm not having sex with you on the couch," I inform him, to which he suddenly stops the movements of his hands up and down my body.

"Why not? You had sex with me in the car. Isn't a couch a little more accommodating than that?" he responds, and I shift a little so that I can turn my neck enough to look straight at him.

"That's different. It was in your car. We're not having sex on my parents' couch," I say sternly, but Bryce decides to flip me over onto my back on the sofa anyway.

I suck in a sharp breath as he kneels between my legs, hand slipping up underneath my shorts. All of a sudden his lips are back on my neck again, and the kisses are hard enough to leave me worried that he's going to leave a mark.

"Charlie could come home any second," I warn him, and he removes his hands from my body, pulling his face back to look at me.

"You really don't want to do this right now?" he asks me sternly, and I give him a helpless look.

"I want to, but I don't think it's a good idea. Not right now," I tell him, and I'm scared that he's going to react poorly and perhaps even freak out at me for 'leading him on' or something.

He sits up on the couch, offering me a hand. He pulls me up into a sitting position as well before he leans back so that his back is propped up against the armrest.

Then, he opens his arms wide, saying, "Come here, baby. Let me hold you."

Hesitantly, I crawl on top of his body, letting him wrap his arms around me in a tight, protective manner. I love when he holds me like this, especially when I'm upset or when we're going to sleep at night.

"You're not mad at me?" I ask him, confused, and from what I can see of his face, he looks even more lost than I feel.

"Mad about what?" he asks, and his question sounds extremely genuine.

"I don't know . . . That I turned you down I guess?" I try and answer him, and I've never seen his eyes go wider before.

Bryce shoots up in his seat, still holding me close to him. "What the hell are you talking about? You're allowed to say 'no' whenever you want to. I don't mind. I'll respect your boundaries. You seriously think that I would be mad at you, though? That's fucking screwed up," he says almost shuddering as if he's offended that I'd even think that lowly of him.

"I'm sorry for assuming," I tell him, feeling tension fall over the room before Bryce lays back down, taking me with him.

He reaches for the television remote, grabbing it off the coffee table and turning on the TV. He begins to flick through the channels, stroking my hair in the process, until he finally settles on one.

"We never have to do anything that you're not comfortable with. Hell, we don't have to have sex again for a whole ass year if that's what you want," Bryce tells me, and I blink a couple times before looking up to meet his eyes.

I never thought I'd be in a relationship where my thoughts and feelings are this respected. Sure, I guess that's one of the key factors, but as I lay here on top of Bryce, I realize that he's always extra-careful about everything; making sure that I'm doing all right mentally by checking in on me everyday, and also by the way that he always asks multiple times before we do anything sexual together.

"I don't deserve you. Thank you for everything," I say to him as I bury my face against his chest, wrapping my arms securely around him.

"I love you," Bryce says quietly, kissing me on the top of my head.

When I look up at him, it reminds me to refresh my emails once again.

"I love you too," I respond, waiting for my inbox to load.

And of course, there's nothing there.