- Emmett -

Someone sat beside me and patted my leg, startling me. I looked up from my phone to find Rachel beaming at me. I took out my earbuds and returned them to their case-I was bad about dropping them when I held them in my hand.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey." I said.

"I feel like you haven't been over in forever."

I didn't mention that I was at their house three nights ago. I snuck into Clay's bedroom again after the rest of the family went to bed. That one was a little trickier, because my mother was home. I had to get out and back in without waking her.

My eyes dipped down to her band uniform. "Nice outfit."

Rachel's lips curled back from her teeth, smacking on a giant wad of purple gum. "It's even worse with the hat."

I chuckled. "I didn't picture you as a marching band girl. What do you play?"

"Clarinet. And I much prefer concert band. I only joined marching band because it fulfills my P.E. requirement so I don't have to take gym."

"Ugh!" I shook my head. "I get it. I hate gym. I wish my school had a workaround like that."

Rachel angled herself to look around me at Clay. "You hear that, freakazoid? I told you, you're the only person who enjoys gym class."

Clay just laughed and turned back to watch the play unfolding on the field.

Brandon leaned forward and put a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "The hair is hot, Rach."

"Thanks." The word came out almost like a chuckle as Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear, her cheeks going rosy.

Clay spun in his seat to face Brandon, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't call my sister hot."

Brandon sat back, raising his hands. "I didn't mean it like that."

Rachel huffed, sending out a puff of fog. "I have to get back to the band." She smiled at me and stood up, then turned an icy glare to Clay, flipping him off. "Mom and Dad want to talk to you, by the way."

"Why?" Clay asked.

"Something about charity... or something. I wasn't really paying attention."

"That's helpful."

"I'm not your fucking messenger girl." She spun around and walked to the end of the aisle. She paused and looked back at him. "If you want me to show you where they are, you better move your ass."

When she started down the stairs, Clay jumped up. He paused to kiss my cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

"Do you want me to come?" I asked.

"Nah. I think I know what this is about. It shouldn't take long." He hurried to follow Rachel, who hadn't waited for him. In fact, it seemed like she was rushing to try and lose him in the crowd. Clay chased after Rachel across the bottom row of the stadium.

Brandon moved to take Clay's former spot. "Can I ask you a question?"

I studied his face, curious what this could be about. "Sure."

"Did Duke want to hurt Clay because he was mad that Clay was dating you?"

I reared back, like he'd just swung on me. I threw a quick glance around the crowd. They were too concerned with the game to care about this conversation. Jackson and Tyler had gone to get food right before Rachel arrived, so there was no one to eavesdrop on us.

I took a long drag from my drink. My mouth was too dry. "What do you mean?"

Brandon stared me in the eyes, his brows slightly furrowed. "Did you date him before Clay? Is that what this whole fucking mess is about?"

I shook my head. I wasn't saying no; I just couldn't believe he figured it out. "Why would you think that?"

"Like I told Clay, Duke can be a real asshole, but he always has his reasons. Even if they don't justify his actions. Which to be clear, I don't think they do." Brandon looked me over. I suspected he didn't believe I was worth the trouble Duke put Clay through.

I certainly didn't think I was worth it.

Brandon didn't seem to notice my internal freak out. He just kept talking at me. "I started putting the pieces together after you and Clay left my house. I was so confused about why Clay was so adamant about not telling us why Duke was doing this. Then I remembered that day you hung out with us at the track. The fact that you and Duke knew each other. And when you called him Alfie, he didn't even flinch. Nobody calls him that. Not even his girlfriends call him that."

"What do you want me to say, Brandon?"

"Tell me I'm right." He arched his brows smugly. "I know I am."

"Why does it matter?" I asked.

"Because I need to know that one of my closest friends isn't a horrible person. That he had a good-or good in his mind, at least-reason for doing this. Clay is one of the kindest people I've ever known, and I don't want to believe Duke would hurt Clay like this just because he's gay."

The cup trembled in my hand. I felt on the verge of tears. My throat tightened. My voice was hoarse. "But if what you say is true, wouldn't that make what Alfie did so much worse? Because if it's true-and I'm not saying that it is-then that means Alfie knows what that struggle is like for Clay, and he still did it, anyway."

Brandon's eyes grew wider. "I didn't think about it like that."

"Lucky you. Because that's all I can think about." I wiped away a tear that had fallen. I hated crying in front of people. This was even worse because I wasn't sad. I was angry and frustrated. "Do you get how selfish a person has to be to intimately know the struggle someone is going through and use their pain against them to get something he wants?"

Brandon opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "Pretty fucking selfish is the answer."

When I saw Clay returning, I turned to Brandon. "Just so we're clear, I did not confirm a thing you said. I was speaking purely hypothetically."

"Sure you were." Brandon clapped me on the shoulder as he moved back to his former seat, allowing Clay to sit beside me again.

I smiled tightly, trying to conceal my inner turmoil. "What did your parents want?"

Clay shook his head, blowing out an annoyed sigh. "My mom wanted to introduce me to one of her friends."

"Was it about your video?"

"No." He took the drink from my hand and drank some. "Remember when I said I promised to volunteer somewhere as, like, penance for messing up, so I could get my car back?"

"Yeah."

"Apparently, my mom knows a lady who works at the hospital, and I guess they need volunteers."

"Like a candy striper?" I asked, trying not to laugh as the image of Clay dressed in the red-and-white-striped pinafore popped into my mind.

Brandon didn't bother hiding his amusement. His laughter made us both turn around to face him. "I thought only chicks did that."

"I guess not." Clay murmured, facing forward.

I rubbed his shoulder. "You did tell me you want to be a doctor someday. I know it's not even remotely the same thing, but it might give you a feel for what it's like to work in a hospital."

"I said I used to want to be a doctor. Like when I was a kid. That's just way too much school, in my opinion. I admire anyone who does it, but I don't want that anymore."

I picked up Clay's hand and slipped my fingers through his. "What do you want?"

"I don't got a damn clue, baby." Clay leaned over to bring his face close to mine. "Whatever I do, as long as you're there, I'll be happy."

"Same."

He caught me by surprise with a kiss on the lips. It was just a peck that lasted only a second, but it was enough for me.