After parking my car in his driveway, I climb into Bailey's blue Cheyenne and he drives through town. He doesn't head for the big grocery store where I am used to shopping for my dad. Well, he doesn't let me do the shopping anymore because he thinks I'll pull out all his money from an ATM and run away. I don't know where he comes up with the stuff that he thinks I'll do.

Bailey parks close to the door outside a compact, derelict store and patiently waits for me to fidget down from the seat. It takes me a moment to fix the spandex shorts underneath and smooth out the fitted jean skirt.

"What's with the new clothes?" Bailey leads the way to grab a cart.

"The only thing new is the skirt."

"You never wear skirts."

"You notice what I wear?" I challenge.

"I'm not the only one who notices your body, Max," Bailey doesn't even blush, "but now you're parading around like what Cassie says about you is true."

"I don't care what anyone thinks of me," I don't even believe me.

"Why are you hanging out with Mallory?"

"What's with the twenty fucking questions?" I snarl, jerking the cart toward the dairy wall in the back, "I need the stuff over here."

"I've never made cheesecake before," Bailey points out, "and I'm just asking."

"Mallory and I are friendly because Cassie is a bitch, and like she said, we're safer in numbers," I snag two packs of cream cheese and everything else I need back here.

"Cassie might have mentioned they had a falling out," he scrunches up his face, "I don't really pay attention when she talks."

"Too busy sucking face."

"Is this about getting a boyfriend or something?" He gestures to my body or the outfit.

"Hell... No, it's about me wanting to wear a skirt," I roll my eyes and direct us down a few more aisles, gathering supplies, "do you have a cake pan?"

"Uh... The glass kind."

"You don't have the...? Never mind. I'll need this," I grab a proper aluminum cake pan, "it makes it easier removing it from the pan."

"This is brilliant," Bailey admires the spring release, "it's not like I bake or anything. Mom never has any time."

"What does your dad do?" I lead us toward checkout.

"He doesn't work. I told you that."

"So, what does he do?"

"Nothing."

"Is he an alcoholic?" I'm actually curious.

Bailey groans and glances around, "no. He's sick, but that stays between us, Max."

"Who the fuck am I going to tell?"

"Your new best friend," his voice is low and venomous.

"Unlike you, I can keep my mouth shut. I don't tell Mallory much of anything really."

"What do you two even talk about?"

"We do homework and eat lunch together. That's about it," I finish piling the products on the belt and step up to the card reader.

"Move," Bailey butts me with the front end of the cart.

Clenching my jaw, I step out of the way, waiting for the cashier to scan everything, bag it and load it into the cart. I expect him to move when she is done, so I can pay, but instead he pulls out a hundred-dollar bill and pays for everything, waiting for the change. Then he leads the way back to the Cheyenne, while I try not to feel guilty for letting the poor kid pay.

It's not like I want to hurt his mom or dad. I just want to hurt him.

"What's that fucking look for?" He unloads the groceries into a cooler in the bed of his pickup.

"What?"

"Your look of pity, Max. Don't feel bad that I paid for the groceries," he snarls irritated.

"Whatever," I huff, snatching the cart and roll it to a return station.

The ride back to his house is quiet and only makes me feel worse. He doesn't need to be reminded that his family isn't doing well. His mom is a night nurse and probably has a lot of school debt, and now they have medical bills because his dad is sick. I feel bad for his parents, especially his mom.

Shit.

My fricking heart is going to make it difficult to follow through with my plan to break this boy.

Inside, we search the kitchen for all the normal stuff kitchens have like measuring cups, mixing bowls, sugar, flour... The place doesn't have more than two measuring cups and one mixing bowl that is too small. I have to split the recipe in half and mix it up twice before I can stick it in the oven. Bailey stands attentive, waiting for any instructions, but I am used to doing this on my own.

"I'm a little out of practice," I wipe my forehead with the back of my hand, "and it's weird without the things I'm used to using, but I think it will turn out okay. I don't know..." I'm getting insecure in front of Bailey, "shit. I may just be a terrible cook. I'm sorry if you paid for all this and I screw it all up."

The noise I am making must be too loud because his mom walks out in pajamas, and black hair knotted atop her head. She is stunning even in pajamas, making me pale in comparison even in this new outfit.

"Hello dears. Max, I'm surprised you're here again."

"Am I making too much noise?" My eyes flick between her and Bailey.

Bailey smirks, but she shakes her head vigorously. He starts the coffee pot for her and she retreats to the living room, turning on the TV.

"I didn't even think she was here sleeping," I mutter at him accusingly, "you could have warned me."

"It's fine, Max," Bailey takes the cup into the living room and returns as I place the cheesecake in the oven, "wow... You're fast."

"Don't spread that around school. It makes me sound like more of a slut. Like Cassie isn't already saying shit," I cringe, turning away from him.

"Geez, I'm trying to compliment you and you have to bring her up? Do you ever think about anything else?"

"Not when you're around," I confess, washing my hands at the sink and wetting a dish rag.

"I'll clean up," Bailey's hands are warm on my shoulders, shifting me carefully out of the way.

He wipes down the counters and washes the dishes I used. I lean into the counter, needing to get off my knee. It throbs and I could use another dose of my pills.

"I need to get something from my car," I fish out my keys.

"Are you leaving?" He spins around to face me, looking put out.

Does he like having me around?

"I need my painkiller," I point to my knee, "I'll be right back."

"Let me get it, Max." He wipes his hands on a towel, and takes my keys, "where is it?"

"In the jockey box," I don't know why he's pretending to be nice.

I can't tell if he is being considerate to ease down my guard, because his mom is around, or if he genuinely wants to help. He's fast and tosses my bottle at me, shoving my keys into the front pocket of my skirt. His fingers dance in the pocket, rubbing through the thin material and burning my upper thigh.

Damn.

"Th-thanks," I swallow a pill without water and set the bottle on the counter.

"Did you just swallow that without water?" He looks amazed.

"Yeah."

"Impressive. I can't take a damn pill without chugging a whole thing of water with it. I hate taking pills."

"I suppose swallowing isn't really on your résumé," I tease, astonished by my words and turning into a cherry.

Bailey is flummoxed, chuckling, "what...?"

I shake my head, "n-nothing."

Then he's grinning, "is it on your résumé?"

I glare at him, "it's not."

"Never swallowed or never gone down?"

I tighten my jaw, "neither."

Why did I admit that?

"How long till the cheesecake is done?" He changes the subject to my relief.

"Forty minutes, but then it has to cool in the fridge... Overnight would be best."

"Let's do some homework," he heads to the room with the table and chairs.

We work in quiet for a long time, and music plays softly from his phone. It's nothing annoying, and not super distracting. Bailey pulls out the cheesecake when the timer on my phone goes off and I can tell just from the smell that it's done.

As I finish up the last of my economics, his mom comes in to say goodbye. She kisses him on the top of his head and he doesn't even look embarrassed. He hugs her and wishes her a good night at work. She even gives me a side hug and leaves, humming along to the music on his phone.

"All done?" Bailey quirks an eyebrow at me.

"Just geometry, but I suck at math," I don't bother pulling it out, "I won't even waste my time pretending to know what I'm doing."

"You have that class with Riette, don't you?"

"He is just as bad about showing up as me."

"He doesn't plan on going to college. Zane does his homework for him for that class anyway."

"What does Cassie think you're doing?"

"Bringing her up again?" He snarls, slamming a hand on the table.

I flinch, but clarify, "just wondered what you told her. This is three nights in a row we've been together and you haven't mentioned her."

"So what?"

I shrug and chew on my lip, "I suppose I should go."

"Wait..." Bailey gets up with me and snags my elbow, "you don't have to go, Max. It's barely eight o'clock."

"Do you hate being alone or something?" I joke.

Bailey tilts his head, "I like having you around."

"Yeah, you said that before and then you threw me in the pool."

"Fuck, I told you..."

"Sure. You were protecting me from whatever Cassie could have come up with. And then you turned around and told her my private business."

"Alright, you don't trust me, but I'm trying to earn it back," he tugs on my elbow, "just hang out, please?"

This has to be part of the game. I do need to spend time with him and let him think we can be more. We still have to break him up with Cassie, but I can lay down some ground work for what comes after that. Keeping that in mind, makes it easier to give in. Though deep down, I know that's not the only reason I give in.

I want to spend time with him.

You're getting revenge.

He's trying.

He's only trying to hurt you!

The bitch in my head won't shut up as we settle on the couch just like the day before, brushing arms. He turns on some basic cable channel, playing something that I've never seen. It's not very exciting, but I'm too focused on the warmth emanating from him. I can virtually feel his hands cupping my ass and pressing my back into his Cheyenne, nearly kissing me.

Stop it!

My phone buzzes when Bailey heads upstairs to use the restroom. Since I am alone, I open the message.

When Bailey returns, I shift awkwardly in the cushions. I don't know if I should just abruptly leave or what. I need a reason to leave other than it is way past my curfew. It's clear I don't actually respect my curfew all that much.

"I need to go," I whisper.

"Oh..." Bailey leans forward and clicks off the TV, "right."

That was easy.

Bailey carries my bag to the car and drops it in the passenger seat. He even returns my pills to the jockey box. I scan the car, but nothing is out of place like he searched it when he was out here. Not that there is anything to find, but I should still worry why he was being helpful before.

"Max," he moves around to the driver's side as I shift my left knee under the steering wheel, "hey..." He clears his throat and crouches to my level, "do you think you can forgive me for what I did before? Can we move past what I did before? I want to be friends."

"Uh..."

"I said I'll earn your trust again, and I will, but I need you to forgive me at least." He's practically pleading.

I think I believe him.

I know I do.

No second voice comes in to argue with me. I smile at that thought and hear Bailey let out a cleansing sigh. He read into my smile and I am happy to let him.

"Don't fuck it up," I warn him.

"I won't, baby," he swears.

He gives my good knee a squeeze before shutting the door and running up to his house. He waves at me and waits for me to leave.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck....

💀

At Mallory's house, she sweeps the door in several minutes after I text and knock. There is a lot of fast talking coming from her kitchen, but she directs me upstairs to her room. It's a large space with a beautiful dark oak double bed and a pink comforter. The carpet is a clean beige without any stains or track marks, and two long dressers, side tables, and vanity match the dark oak frame of her bed. She has one tall bookshelf painted black with lots of Barbies and books resting on it.

"What is this plan you figured out?" I rub the fluffy, butter-colored blanket sitting on the foot of her bed.

"Those pictures I told you about," Mallory squeals, shaking my shoulders, "tomorrow we are going to get into her phone and send them to the whole school."

"Whole school? Sounds like she is showing off. We can't alter them like she did to me. We want it to look like she did this, remember?" I tilt my head, prying her tiny fingers off me.

Mallory pouts theatrically, "then what?"

"Do you have a plan to get her phone?"

"Cause a scene, snag it, no big whoop," Mallory shrugs casually.

"Oh, no big deal," I roll my eyes, "then we send the picture to Bailey's friends and a few select other seniors, including Asher and Memphis."

"I can see Memphis. Why Asher?"

"Exactly."

"What were you doing with Bailey for this long?"

"We baked a cheesecake for our English paper. We finally picked a topic as long as the teacher approves it."

"Baking?"

"Cheesecake. We can write about the history, how to make it, and the different types of cheesecake from around the world. It will be easy."

"I don't think she meant for the assignment to be difficult," Mallory shakes her head, "I'm stuck working with Memphis, and we finally decided on football games. Cheerleaders are there and obviously so are the players. We both know a lot about it and won't have to do too much research. We'll write about the feeling of it more than any scientific meaning behind it."

"You guys can use science to back up the feeling you get. There are probably studies that have explained how it makes you feel to be a part of that stuff."

Mallory cocks an eyebrow, "you're actually smart. Like smart, smart. I knew Cassie calling you stupid was just something she said, but I didn't realize..."

I refrain from rolling my eyes, "I need to get home."

"Wear something sexy again. This skirt got you a lot of attention. Do you have a dress?"

"No," I screw up my nose.

Mallory laughs and walks over to her small closet. She digs out something black and lacey. It's short and definitely not anything I want to wear.

"You can put one of your regular plaid shirts over it and wear those booties you had on last week."

I sigh like this is a big undertaking, "fine."