"I'm jealous, I'm overzealous. When I'm down I get real down. When I'm high I don't come down. I get angry, baby, believe me. I could love you just like that and I can leave you just as fast." —Julia Michaels.

The car is silent as we propel along the slippery road, the sound of rain splattering against metal and the faded roars of passing vehicles filling the frigid void.

I had no idea the ride to the mall would be this long. I am dying of anxiety being in this tiny space next to him, and the fact that he's half-naked makes this situation even more nerve-wracking.

I quietly puff air from my cheeks, rubbing my palms along my legs in restlessness. Blaze glances over at me and softly smiles before focusing back to the road.

"So, who taught you to play the piano?"

I gaze at him at the posing of his question, and he meets my eyes, raising a perfect brow expectantly.

"My dad," I answer shortly, turning my vision ahead. The sour emotions return, and I try my best to repress them. It'd be embarrassing to break down right here in the presence of this unfamiliar sophomore.

"Oh." He nods comprehensively and leaves it there. But for some reason, I feel the need to speak further.

"Yeah, he taught me the basics." I purse my lips despondently. "Before he had a heart attack and died..."

I wait to hear an: 'oh, I am so sorry about that' or any form of sympathetic consolation but instead, Blaze just reaches over to his dashboard and turns his radio up.

The upbeat music fills the car and I blink awkwardly and look away, finding his indifferent reaction strange. I am not fishing for sympathy or any form of commiseration, but I just think that his response to such painful news is freakishly abnormal. Maybe he is trying not to spoil the mood?

I corner-eye him and he's gently tapping his fingers against his steering wheel while he slightly nods his head to the music. I make a face and pull my eyes to the window, feeling greatly offended.

My dad died, dude!

"My mom is dead too," he says out of the blue, and I bring surprised eyes to him.

"R-really?"

"Yeah." He casually shrugs, slanting his head back as he glances at me. I try to read his expression, but it just appears blank.

I straighten up in my seat as my features soften sympathetically. Now, this is a normal reaction. "Wow. How did that happen?"

"She shot herself in the head." He raises his shoulders apathetically, and my mouth drops open.

What?

Taking in my horrified expression, he suddenly erupts into a fit of deep laughter, throwing his head back but still managing to drive safely. The sound echoes dominantly throughout the car, and though it is audibly pleasing, I can't find the humor in what he just said.

This is not funny. How can he be laughing after saying something like that?

"Don't look so frightened, I am kidding!" He whips his hair from his eyes, and my heart begins to thaw. Thank God. A lingering smile is on his lips as he gazes into his side mirror, neatly overtaking a sluggish car in front of him.

Why would he joke about something so terrible? If that were to genuinely happen to him, I don't know how he would deal with such a dreadful issue. I wouldn't even wish that on my worse enemy. The mere thought of it is painful and I don't think someone would emerge from such an ordeal still being mentally stable.

"Actually, I am not kidding," he says in a low tone. "She did shoot herself in the head."

A silence sweeps throughout the car as the astonishment returns to my face. I wait for him to tell me it's a joke, but he doesn't. Not this time.

"Wh-what? R-really?" My voice quivers. I refuse to believe that something that awful could happen to someone.

"Yep." He pops the 'P' like it's nothing, and I look away as my heart swells with condolence.

"Wow, I-I am so sorry."

My eyes prick with liquids of sympathy. I know it's not my business but that is just too devastating.

He regards me with confusion. "Sorry? For what?"

I am taken aback as I blink away the tears from my eyes.

"Look, it's her business if she wants to kill herself. I mean why should I suffer because of that? She wants to die, that's on her but me? I have my life to live."

I bite my lip, itching my eyebrow thoughtfully. "You're just saying that because it hurts...and I understand—"

"Hurts?" He scoffs humorously, shaking his head. "I don't know what that feels like, Skye."

I stare at him and he looks at me. "I am not hurt. Believe me."

I believe him. Studying his eyes, I realize that they showcase no sign of suffering or pain and it makes me bewildered.

He smirks and looks ahead as I slump my shoulders in perplexity. I am gobsmacked. He seems to genuinely not care. If he's camouflaging his pain, then he's doing a remarkable job at it.

I gaze at him confoundedly, trying to read this complex human sitting next to me, but my brain is unable to come up with a hypothesis. His reactions to things that would have normal people bawling their eyes out are bizarrely eccentric. I cannot help wondering if I am riding with an alien. His comportment calls for in-depth scientific research.

"Shit, the parking lot is full as fuck," he mumbles under his breath. I am pulled out of my thoughts as he steers into the mall's crowded lot, swinging into a tight available spot. He manages to skillfully park his car in the narrow space, which makes me inwardly embarrassed that I failed my driving test twice.

"The rain is still pouring, so we should make a quick run for it." He unsnaps his seatbelt and I follow suit as he reaches for his T-shirt from his headrest. I keep my gaze ahead as he throws it on, discreetly sighing in relief that my cheeks can finally resume to their normal shades.

We get out and cover our heads with our palms as we sprint from the car and to the pharmacy. Luckily, it is one of the closest buildings to the parking lot or we would have become two dripping wet rags.

"This is where you wanted to get to, right?" He verifies as he opens the door for me, flashing the water from his black hair. The entrance bell rings as a rush of the cold air conditions meets my face.

"Thank you, yeah." I enter the cold drugstore, wrapping an arm around myself as goosebumps immediately spot my skin. The scent of pills and new papers surround the air as we traverse down the narrow aisle.

"What you want to buy?" Blaze jams his palms into his pockets, walking in line with me. "Condoms?"

I look at him in slight awe and he sees my reaction and laughs. "I am kidding."

I am not sure when he's kidding and when he isn't anymore, considering his 'joke' inside his car about his mom turned out to not be a 'joke'.

I walk to the sanitary aisle and grab a large package with 24 packs inside before taking up some pills and a few other necessities that I did not pack. I realize that Blaze isn't next to me and I look around to see him opening the small fridge and retrieving two bottles of sodas. He has some snacks perched into his elbow and a chocolate bar sits between his lips. I smile softly and look away.

I've never eaten an item until I've paid for it. So that if the total is too much, I can always put it back. But I guess he trusts his wallet. With a car like that, his parents must be rich. But then I recall the tragic death of his mother and realize that he only has one parent, and then I think of how lonely he probably is, but then my mind is back to how he seems okay with the fact that his mother put a bullet through her skull and now I'm just settling with the conclusion that he is probably fine.

"Thanks for coming." The girl at the cashier extends my bag toward me and I smile politely at her. But she doesn't see the gesture since she's busy ogling Blaze with eyes of admiration. He is oblivious to this as he finishes up his snicker, and I slide out of the way silently so he can cash his items next.

Girls beg for his attention, so I don't understand why he is following a lame person like me around.

We step out of the pharmacy and it is still a frantic downpour. I look up to the sky which is now a wide stretch of black, the once blue areas thickly covered by storm clouds.

"Excuse me? Miss?"

The sound of a masculine voice causes Blaze and I to turn our heads in its direction. A man is sitting on the sidewalk in a discolored jersey and ripped jeans. His hand is outstretched and sitting in front of him is a plastic bowl with coins. I open my mouth to respond to him when Blaze pats my back, pulling my arm so I focus ahead.

I draw my brows together and he shoves a triangular chip into his mouth from the Doritos he's holding. "Ignore him."

My forehead wrinkles. "It seems he needs assistance."

"And is that our problem?" He raises a brow and I gawp at him in awe. That's mean.

I turn away and head over to the stranger, and Blaze squints his eyes, steering his torso in my direction.

"Hi." I smile. "You were beckoning to me."

The man has a pungent body odor and his face is smeared with dirt and grease. When he opens his mouth, I realize that his breath is also not up to par. "Could you please give me a dollar? Or anything is fine, I have nothing to eat for dinner."

My heart fills with compassion and I dig into my pocket without hesitation. I drop a few coins into his calloused palm while he nods his head eagerly. This man could be my father, so I would never turn a blind eye to his request.

"God bless you." He smiles, showcasing rotted, buttered teeth. I offer a gentle one back, but a loud hiss from next to me causes it to quickly fade as I look around to see Blaze walking off toward his car.

He seems extremely mad and his behavior surprises me. What did I do wrong?

I place my palm over my head and hurry toward his vehicle, quickly pulling the door and sliding in. I wipe water from my clothes as I look over at him. His expression is stern and unsmiling, and I shrink in my seat. "Are you okay?"

"The man is perfectly fine, he can work to earn an income, so I have no idea why you just gave him your money," he starts, turning his glare at me. I take notice of how dark his pupils have become, and he seems a lot different than who he was thirty minutes ago.

"It's called caring," I answer.

"Or being stupid. He has two legs, just like us. Everyone is trying to find their way in life, he should get up and try too, not fair for him to take other people's hard-working money."

I drop my gaze to the plastic bag in my lap. He has a point but there is no danger in giving. I won't apologize for being softhearted; I feel like Blaze just lacks compassion.

He sighs when he realizes that I won't offer a response. "Forget it." He shakes his head and looks out his window.

"No, I get what you mean," I say quickly, wanting to end this conversation faster than it came. "You're right."

He looks at me, seeming a tad flabbergasted that I agreed. I stare at him then fix my gaze ahead, wishing I could teleport back to Homewood right at this moment. He's being harshly weird.

The car is now silent, and the raindrops have now lightened up. I stare at the frost-smeared glass, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Do you trust me?" He asks suddenly.

I look over at him, attempting to locate his eyes between his wet strands of hair. Considering what everyone says about him, I am not sure I trust him at all. Plus, it's a little too soon to let my guard down. I have only met him recently and to be honest, I still don't know anything much about him. Except that he's artistic and listens to Kodaline and that is not much information for me to work with.

Swallowing, I lower my gaze to my fingers. "I-I don't know..."

He rests his palm on the top of my seat as he slightly leans in. I look up at him, and he studies my face wordlessly as the air shifts to an unidentifiable tension.

"Then why did you come with me?" He whispers, and my body runs chills.

His gaze is focused on my lips and I self-consciously purse them, making him lift his eyes from them and to mine.

"You insisted."

He smiles at my soft response and tilts his head to the side. "Yeah...but you could have also insisted not to."

His voice is so shallow that I can hardly hear him, but I can't say he isn't right. I could have stood my ground and not take the ride, but he knows how hard it is to say no to someone of his character.

"So you do trust me then," he concludes. "Because you're here...with me...in an enclosed car..."

I swallow hard. He's doing it again. That creepy, low tone.

"You have guts, Harmony. For still being here with me despite the countless amount of warnings you've been getting from people."

Yeah, I don't know what is wrong with me. Maybe I am stupid?

His gaze is so consuming that I have to take a moment to look away. I watch the raindrops as they stream down the window, and such a natural occurrence has never felt this ominous as he continues to speak.

"You shouldn't trust people so easily, Skye. I could be a serial killer or a rapist or a psychopath...or a sociopath."

I look at him with wide eyes and he chuckles lightly. "I am just saying...I didn't say I was."

Okay, his jokes are seriously not 'jokes.' I think I should head back to Homewood now.

He bites his lower lip then sighs. "If I was a serial killer, I wouldn't kill you anyway, you have never done anything to offend me...so far."

So far?

"Would you kill someone if they offend you?" I ask softly, and his eyebrows furrow as he shrugs.

"Yeah. If they messed with me, I would ruin them."

He says it like it's a norm. As if it's nothing but a piece of cake to take the life of another.

I blink and turn my eyes away from him, feeling skeptical about being here alone with him.

He leans his head against his headrest, staring at my bothered expression. "Are you going to run away from me? Now that I've told you that?"

I fix my face. "No," I breathe. "You don't seem like a bad guy." I gaze over at him, and his expression shifts to one that I can't quite explain.

He sits up abruptly, turning his face ahead as he taps his finger against my headrest. My eyes drift to the ominous action then back to him.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, green eyes," he mutters.

I narrow my eyes at his words. "What do you mean?"

He draws in a breath. "That's not important. Where do you want to go, back at the dorms?" He turns comfortably in his seat and I nod my head silently, my mind still fixed on what he just said.

He suddenly reaches over to me and I cringe away upon reflex.

He chuckles at this, shaking his head. "It's just your seatbelt. I'm not tryna fuck you."

Wow, does everyone at Homewood speak this way?

His profanity leaves me in bewilderment, and he titters at my reaction. "Sorry, I mean sex, I'm not trying to have sex with you."

He snaps the seatbelt and moves away. I grip onto the strap in discomfort as I glance over at him. "Do you have class soon?"

"Nope. I mean, yeah but I don't feel like going..." He starts up his engine. "Do you?"

I nod. "Yeah, I have Math at 2."

"Okay, well I will get you back safely before 2."

I smile a little as he steps on the gas, steering out of the full parking lot.

"Stay away from him"

I hear the words again, louder than ever before, but I decide on just ignoring them until I am back at Homewood. Just until I am back at Homewood, I promise.

••

"Cause I got issues, but you got 'em too. So give 'em all to me and I'll give mine to you."—Julia Michaels.

••

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