Ryo's house was, for lack of a better word, madness. I was greeted at the door by his absolutely gorgeous mother who could easily pass for his sister. Then, I faced the chaos inside.

He had three brothers and a sister, all of whom were under ten. They were running around and playing and being the messy, noisy children that they were.

Ryo laughed at my overwhelmed expression, "Not used to kids?" He asked, grinning.

"No," I replied, shaking my head, "I only have an older brother and, as far as I know, no cousins."

Just as Ryo was about to say something in response, the only girl in the mix came barrelling up to him and threw herself into his arms. "Help! Kazu is chasing me!" She squealed, and Ryo lifted her up.

"Who are you?" She asked me, her dark eyes wide as she looked up through long lashes. This child was already beautiful.

"I'm Taylor, Ryo's friend. We're working on a project together." I informed her, returning the angelic smile she offered. "What's your name?"

"I'm Mika!" She suddenly giggled but, before she could tell us why, a little boy ran to us, with chocolate-coated fingers. He was just as perfect-looking as his siblings, though he couldn't have been older than eight, at least three years older than the little girl, Mika.

"You're home!" He yelled, throwing his arms around Ryo's leg and hugging tightly. This resulted in the two remaining kids also doing the same.

I found myself chuckling at the scene and Ryo's face. He was laughing, clear affection for his siblings reflected in his eyes. I smiled slightly as I made eye contact with him, holding his gaze until we were interrupted by the doorbell.

"Do you mind getting it?" Ryo asked, "I'm a little occupied." He mock glared at the children who were still clinging to him.

I giggled, heading towards the door and pulling it open. My smile faded as I took in the sight of Julio, his scowl in place and stinking of cigarette smoke.

"Hi." I said, softly. I didn't want to be rude, but I didn't particularly want to be nice, either.

He ignored me as he walked past me and into the house. He took off his shoes in the entryway, probably seeing all the others by the door and his consideration surprised me a little.

I followed him to where Ryo and his brothers had now shifted position and were wrestling on the floor, with Mika cheering them on.

"You wanna get started?" Julio said, interrupting the moment, "I need to leave."

"Okay," Ryo said, easygoing as always as he extricated the small creatures that were hanging onto him.

They grumbled for a moment, before climbing off their brother and rushing off to do something else. I heard them call for their mother, too, and could hear hints of her irritated reply. She did, however, sound amused.

"You wanna go up and work in my room?" Ryo asked and I shrugged noncommittally, not minding anything.

"Oh, for the love of God, stop flirting and just go. Does it really fucking matter where we do it as long as we do it?"

True enough. I almost laughed at his tone, but then realized who it was. Besides, he had accused me of flirting with Ryo, which we most certainly were not doing. I shot him a dirty look the moment I registered his comment.

"Okay, fine." Ryo said, sensing the obvious tension in the room. "Let's just start. We have two weeks to do this and I have soccer every other day."

He played soccer? That was probably what gave him those lean muscles and that hard physique....

Julio was giving me a knowing look and I blushed, realizing I'd been caught staring. At least it hadn't been Ryo who'd caught me.

An hour later, we'd decided exactly what we were going to do and how we were going to present it. I'd expected Julio to be a slacker but, when he put his mind to it, he was focused and didn't let anything distract him, even Ryo's sister, who'd been fascinated by his attitude and looks and had been asking him questions the entire time.

Julio hadn't been rude in brushing her off, and had entertained most of her queries, but had still given almost all his attention to the project at hand.

"I need to go." He said, after checking the watch he wore. Not many guys I knew wore watches; most of them checked the time on their phones.

"This was getting boring, anyway." I added, smiling a little at him. He looked slightly taken aback at the way I was talking to him, but he'd impressed me with his seriousness.

"How are you getting home?" Ryo asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he knew that Ally had dropped me off at school and he'd been the one to bring me to his place.

"I'll just walk." I told him and, making note of the worried expression on his face, I added, "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Seriously. I walk all the time."

"It's getting dark, though." He said, and I saw Julio beginning to take an interest in our conversation. "The sun's beginning to set." A quick glance outside the window confirmed his words, but I wasn't too concerned. I'd walked nearly everywhere in San Francisco and, when I couldn't, I took public transportation. I wasn't a stranger to finding my way around.

"I'll drop you off." Julio said, and I looked at him, surprised. That was twice in one day that he'd managed to surprise me.

"Are you sure?" I asked, and he gave me a curt nod, his expression unreadable.

"But I thought you had to be somewhere?" I asked, confused. Why was he suddenly being nice?

"Just accept the offer before I change my mind." Julio ordered and his eyes flashed with impatience at my indecisiveness.

I nodded reluctantly, and Ryo looked relieved. His mom had left earlier and had taken the car with her, so he hadn't had a means of dropping me back home even if he wanted to.

"Well, princess, let's go then." Julio stated, walking towards the entryway and putting his beaten-up sneakers on. I barely registered his new nickname for me. He really had the rebel look down to a tee, didn't he?

"Thanks, Ryo." I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder, and giving him a halfway smile. He grinned back and held up a hand in farewell, his dimple showing.

I raced after Julio, knowing that he was fully capable of leaving me behind if I wasn't right behind him. He was already out the door while I was wearing my shoes.

My slightly loose flats slapped embarrassingly against the pavement as I jogged up to him. He had stopped by a motorcycle, and was waiting for me.

"Get on." He said, handing me the helmet. I took it without complaint but, in my head, I was commenting on how cliché it was that the bad boy drove a motorcycle.

I clambered on less than gracefully after he did, with practiced ease. He was scowling the entire time, and I was seriously beginning to wonder if he only had two facial expressions—angry and emotionless.

He started the bike and went forward without warning, the engine making a loud, roaring sound. I hadn't even been holding on.

I yelped, throwing my arms around his waist, unintentionally feeling him up in my haste. "Asshole." I said, having to speak directly into his ear so that he could hear me clearly.

I could see the edges of his upturned lips from behind, his long, shaggy hair smacking me in the face as the wind blew it backwards. He'd given up the helmet for me.

"Which one is yours?" He asked roughly, as we pulled up into my street. I hadn't been giving him directions, too preoccupied by my first experience on a motorcycle, and the fact that he knew where my house was threw me off a bit.

"This next one." I said and, instead of dropping me off at the base of the driveway like I'd expected, he went all the way up. Maybe he wasn't as much of an asshole as he seemed.

"Thanks." I said, getting off and handing him the helmet. There was a dark look in his eyes that I couldn't identify and I wasn't sure if I wanted to.

He didn't acknowledge me, nor did he move, so I decided to push him a little, "How did you know where I live?"

"It was easy." He said blankly, "I just went into the neighborhood where all the prissy little princesses live and your house just so happened to be here."

"God, why are you such an ass?" I demanded, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. "You're nice sometimes, yeah, but just when I think you're different from how you seem you turn around and go back to being a rude little shit."

"First of all, you hardly know me." He enunciated gruffly, "Also, don't take it personally. I treat everybody like this."

"Do you drive everybody home, too?" I demanded, knowing I hit a nerve when he glared at me fiercely, looking like he meant it more this time than all the other times.

"This is a one time thing. Don't go thinking you're special." Julio made a move to leave, all but shoving the helmet onto his head and fastening it. He was lying and we both knew it. That's why it had struck a nerve—this wasn't something he did for everybody.

"Wait!" I exclaimed, placing a hand on his arm. He looked at it like it was diseased. "Thank you, again."

He nodded, as some unidentifiable emotion swept into his amber irises, and I steeled my nerves before adding, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Trust me, you won't want to." And then, before his words and all their possible meanings and connotations could fully sink in, he was off, the engine of his motorbike making a loud sound against the stillness of the evening.

I waited for a while, even after he'd disappeared, slightly shocked. What had he meant?

I headed into the empty house, free from all inhabitation except for the housekeeper, who lived in a room that was near the attic and barely left unless the Bitch was home.

It was only 6 O'clock, but I was still inexplicably tired. I didn't want food; I hadn't really been hungry since my mother's comment about my weight.

All I wanted to do was go up to my room, lie in bed and read a book. I didn't want to come out until I forgot about everything that was happening around me and only cared about the lives of the characters whose story I was reading.

The book I picked for that night was Malice by Keigo Higashino, something that I'd read multiple times before, but never failed to amaze me. The protagonist was more fucked up than everyone I knew put together, and that was enough to distract me from the world and my problems, despite how insignificant they were.

Nothing had happened that day, nothing in particular that had triggered me but, for some reason, I just felt exhausted. The kind of exhausted that made you want to sleep and never wake up.

And, yet, in spite of all my efforts at ignoring the real world and slipping into a fictional one, as I drifted off to sleep, the only thing on my mind was Julio Hernandez and what exactly I was going to do to figure out who he was and why he was so rude when, beneath that exterior, there was a somewhat decent human being.