"Hey," Evan runs up next to me as we're heading in.

Take the fucking hint, I've been ignoring you all class.

"What?" I say harshly and watch as his face fills with despair.

Good.

I scowl at him before turning the corner toward my locker.

I hurry to get it open so I can leave as soon as possible. I fucking hate gym.

"Hi."

I sigh heavily, clenching my jaw, "hello. Evan."

He stands there in silence, trying to figure out a way to drag out a conversation through the enmity.

"So, we haven't spoken in a while..."

"Or like ever, right?" I mutter under my breath.

"Do you want to talk about that? Because once you hear the full story-"

"Nah, I'm good," I close the gym locker and grab my bag from off of the bench.

"Your friend cornered me. He put me in a bad spot, I had to make something up," Evan says in a hushed voice loud enough for only me to hear.

I stop walking and turn slowly toward him.

"I wish I never met you."

He shook his head, "you don't mean that."

"No, I do," I reaffirm. "I could've figured everything out without you." Why did you have to be so important? Like there wasn't any other way I could've realized I was gay. And, "Why won't you leave me alone already?"

"Because...I love you."

I shove him as hard as I can, and his back hits the lockers behind him.

"Zach..." he says in shock.

I push him again, and he tries to back away from me.

"Fuck you!" I push him another time, and he stumbles toward all the guys who took notice of our 'fight.'

"Would you fucking stop?" He says as he looks around at all the people he needs to be "tough" for, and I can see that he's getting angry.

"For what?" I challenge. "Push back."

"No."

I laugh menacingly, "why not?" He doesn't respond. "You want to take a swing at me?"

"No!"

"Then why not? Say it. Tell everyone why you're too much of a wimp to fight back," I push him one last time.

And he hits me.

Hard.

I fall to the ground and feel dizzy for a few seconds, but I still look up at him through the blur.

You're still blue.

"Dammit, Zach!" He backs up, shaking off the pain in his fingers.

"Yeah," I wipe the blood from my nose, "that's what I thought."

"Forgot to study?" Alison happily sits next to me on the bench.

She's made it a habit to be as nice to me as possible since her deb party.

"Not exactly," I reply with a sly smile. "I've been a little too busy to finish reading these chapters, but I'm almost done."

"Oh, I read that, she dies in the end."

"Alison," I complain and close the book.

"What? It's upsetting. You read it cover to cover hoping that she and Robert will run away together, but no, she just drowns."

"That's how I'll answer all the exam questions," I nod sarcastically.

"Oh, hush," she brushes me off, "you should thank me, now you have more time to be busy with your new boyfriend."

I laugh and roll my eyes, "no, I promised myself I'd never let a boy distract me from school."

"It's harder than you thought, isn't it?" Alison teases.

"It's my fault," I admit, "I'm always the one who initiates the...distractions when I know I should be doing something else."

"Really?" Alison says in surprise as if she's trying to wrap her head around the idea of me in that position.

"Leo and I usually do our work together but sometimes..." My mind drifts off to all the times the books ended up on the floor while we were in the bed.

"I'm listening," she rests her head on her hand and stares at me in intrigue.

I give her a sly look, "I am not giving you details."

"As if I haven't been totally candid about my sex life."

"I never asked for that."

"Heather," she complains.

"It's called privacy."

"It's called girl talk. You think he doesn't do this with his guy friends?"

"Well...." does he? "What do you want to know?" I give in.

"Everything...was it romantic the first time? Was there candlelight and rose petals, red wine and chocolates," she speaks dazedly. "Or, was it spontaneous and full of passion? Did you just desperately rip each other's clothes off?"

I laugh at the scenarios.

"Neither...because we haven't actually gotten there yet."

"...you haven't done anything with him?"

"We've done stuff, and it's all been great...really great." She smirks. "But...we haven't done that."

"Don't you want to?"

"Yes," I say without hesitation. "I've wanted to from the second he kissed me. But, he doesn't want to go too fast."

"That's adorable."

I playfully roll my eyes in response. "Yeah, he's cute."

"You've been together for a while, haven't you?"

"Not necessarily. It's only been a few weeks."

"A few weeks? That can't be true...I figured you guys out last month."

"...right," I laugh lightly before smirking. "Things started getting romantic sometime in December," I confess, "but we weren't actually dating yet...or we didn't call it that."

"See, I knew it," she says proudly, "I'm not as dumb as everyone thinks I am."

"No one thinks you're dumb, Ali."

Audrey doesn't count.

"Trevor does."

"He said that?"

"No," she rolls her eyes, "not in so many words."

"If he's not treating you well then-"

"No, he's fine...things just aren't how I thought they would be. I don't think he likes me as much as he used to."

"It's Trevor...I don't think he'd even bother pretending if he didn't want to be with you."

"I don't know, I think we were better before we were exclusive. They always like the chase more than the catch."

...I hope not.

"That can't always be true," I disagree.

"Not always, sure, but there has to be a reason why so many women choose to settle or die alone."

"When did you become so grim?" I furrow my eyebrows.

"Well, it's just like your book, " she motions toward it, "at least for me and Mrs. Pontellier it is."

"You should not compare yourself to a woman who has an affair and drowns."

"That's easy for you to say, your biggest concern is how you're going to seduce your boyfriend into having sex with you."

"Oh, my God, " My eyes widen and I cover her mouth as passerbys give us funny looks, obviously having heard her. "This is why I don't tell you things."

"Sorry, I'm just saying, if you want to do it...then do it."

"When you get in there, be cool. Ask for an ounce first, and then ease your way into the big stuff," Jordan instructs.

"You're not coming in with me?"

"Hell no. If shit goes south, I don't want to be caught in it." He sighs, "I told him you were good, but he's gotta trust you for himself. These are some serious dealers, Matt..."

"You think I don't know that?"

He shrugs, "Then what are you waiting for?"

I huff and walk up a few steps to get to the door. I knocked lightly in fear of them thinking I was the cops and shooting me before I could get a word out.

"Who is it?" I hear through the door.

"Matt...I'm here to see Dane."

"Who sent you?"

"No one, really. Jordan told me I could buy from here?"

The door opens enough for me to be snatched in by my shirt.

Fucking hell, I'm in over my head.

Jordan said that if I manage to get a pound, he'd help me break it into dime bags and quarters, halves if they start selling well. He even offered to sell it at his school for a cut...but I can't afford to pay him when I already have a debt. Danny would do it for free. Leo would too...but he'd hate it.

"Search him," the guy on the couch says to no one in particular, and yet everyone is soon shaking me down.

"Are you Dane?" I ask as his lackeys practically have their hands down my throat.

"Depends who's asking."

"I wanna buy some weed."

He waves me over to sit across from him. "How much you looking for?"

"Uh— an ounce would be good."

"You got the money for an ounce," he looks at me skeptically.

I nod and pull out all the cash in my pocket. I count out almost a hundred dollars. "Actually, I think I'll buy more. Maybe 4 ounces..." I suggest, "...or a pound."

Dane narrows his eyes at me threateningly.

"Check him again."

"What- why?" I try to question before the stooges rush back to check me for a wire.

"The fuck do you need a pound for?"

"I just have some friends who want weed too," I say desperately.

"And you're just so fucking generous. Nice guy, huh?"

"Look, I've got money."

"I see that," he picks up the stack.

"He's still clean," the minions push me forward.

"You know what, little man?" Dane asks rhetorically. "I like you, you've got balls. Walking in here, throwing your money on the table like you own the place." I dropped my money because of you. "Tell you what, I'll give you a pound for $800. And if you and your— friends want more, come see me again."

"Yeah, okay, thanks," I nod.

"Get him the stuff, and then take him out of here," he directs.

"A pound," the stooges agree and scurry like their lives depend on it...

They probably do.

What does it take to get a set up like this?

"Keep that, that's yours," Dane puts the rest of the cash back in my hand.

"I really appreciate it."

"I bet you do, a young kid like you. Can't walk around with empty pockets."

"I hear you," I sigh.

"Let me know if you're ever looking for work. I might have a spot for you."

"So..." My mom watches worriedly as I take a bite of her first attempt at lasagna. "How is it?"

I nod and give her a thumbs up, "it's good."

"Oh, great," she sighs in relief before making herself a plate of it as well.

"It's nice that you use me as a lab rat instead of trying it yourself," I say amusedly.

"You're just so picky. I know if you like it, then it really is good." I smile in response then go back to eating my food. "How's school been, jellybean?"

"it's been...school," I shrug.

"I haven't gotten any calls lately, so I assume your grades are up," she raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I'm doing alright. I'm passing everything."

"And staying out of trouble?"

"Trouble? Me? Never," I say jokingly.

"Mhm," she side-eyes me. "I saw Marcia at the market the other day. She said works been slow, she's looking into getting another job."

"Oh, yeah?"

"And since I made so much lasagna, and you refuse to eat leftovers for more than two days, you can take some up to them."

"Alright, sure," I comply, and my mom looks at me like she knows something I don't. "...what?"

"Oh, nothing," she said slyly.

"You're not going to tell me?" I ask in disbelief.

"All I'll say is...Danny let me in on a little secret."

...he wouldn't...would he?

"Which is..." I urge her to continue, but she stays silent. "I'll call him right now," I get up and reach for the phone.

"Relax, Jellybean, finish your food. He just told me how big of a crush you have on Marcia's daughter."

I mentally sigh in relief before shaking my head, "He would tell you that."

"Food is the way to everyone's heart, you know," she says encouragingly.

"You'd approve of her, but you hate every other girl I know?"

"You know bad girls," she says defensively.

"They're not all bad."

"You're a teenager. What do you know?"

"Wow, don't give me too much credit, mom," I say sarcastically.

"I love you, so I won't."

I put my empty plate in the sink and wait as she covers the leftovers with Saran Wrap in a separate dish for me to take.

"Should I brag about how it's homemade instead of frozen?" I ask when she hands it to me.

She nods, "and that's it's the best lasagna you've ever tasted."

"I never said I'd lie, mom." Her jaw drops in shock, and I laugh hysterically at the reaction. "I'm just kidding, I swear. I'll tell them."

"Mhm," she glares.

"I'll be back."

"Hold on," my mom grabs my arm to keep me from moving, "you've got glitter on your face."

"Glitter?" I question and start wiping my hands over it, but she swats them away.

Her thumb brushes over my cheek and she narrows her eyes in confusion, "It's sticky...like lip gloss." She puts her hands on her hips, "Who's been kissing your face?"

"Bye, mom," I quickly swing open the front door and close it behind me.

I look at it this way:

If Zach is home, he will open the door. If his mom is home, she will open the door.

But if Peyton is home, and she looks through the peephole and sees it's me, she will not open the door, and I can leave.

If we don't feel like eating lasagna anymore, we can easily let Danny, Matt, or any other guy I know have at it.

So, I knock on the door with no worries.

And, of course,

Peyton opens it.

"Hey," I say awkwardly. We somehow managed to avoid having to speak to each other since the incident.

"Hey."

"My mom wanted me to give this to you guys," I hand her the dish.

"Thanks," she takes it and sets it down on the shelf where they leave their mail.

This isn't tense at all.

"Peyton-" I stop her before she could close the door back, "We're cool, right?"

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Oh...I don't know. I was just making sure things weren't weird."

"Am I being weird?" She crosses her arms.

"Yes."

"Hm," Peyton shrugs.

"Well...I'm sorry," I give her a thin but sincere smile and back away from the door. She doesn't respond, so I take that as 'goodbye,' and move to head down the stairs again.

"I'm sorry too," she backs down with a sigh. "I would've said it before, but this is all too embarrassing to think about."

"Forget about it then. I just want us to still be okay, you know? If I'm going to be bringing up food or hanging with Zach all the time, I don't want it to be uncomfortable for anyone."

"It won't be," Peyton smiles, "You're still my high school boyfriend."

I inhale sharply, "No...can't be that either."

"No?" She raises an eyebrow, and we stand in silence for a moment while she thinks about why. "It's because of that girl who came here that time we were talking outside your apartment, isn't it? She's you're girlfriend, huh?"

I nod, "yeah, she is."

"Okay," Peyton leans against the door frame, "If she wasn't, would you have let me come onto you that day?"

"Uh-" I laugh uneasily at the question.

"Come on, humor me...and my dying ego."

"I can't," I admit. "I really don't know the answer."

I can't remember what it felt like to not be completely infatuated with Heather.

She looks past me instead of pressing me for a straight answer, and I turn to see whatever bell saved me.

"Zach?" My eyebrows furrow as he comes

trudging up the steps with bloody tissues stuck up his nose.

"What did you do?" Peyton says in annoyance.

"What the hell happened?" I ask in concern.

"I handled it. Goodnight."