"Charlie, what's wrong?" I asked cluelessly, trying to ease the tension between them. I'd known that Chris had punched him, but I hadn't known that things were that bad. After all, Chris hadn't told me what they'd fought about.

"Stay out of it, Taylor." He ordered, his jaw taut. He failed miserably at seeming authoritative.

I made a move to say something but Chris shook his head and sent me a look that I could read clearly— 'let me fight this battle.'

I seceded.

"I'm here because Brad and Romi, who are my friends, invited me." He said assertively, and the tension in the air was palpable. In fact, people were beginning to stare.

"You don't belong here." Charlie informed him point-blank and I just felt anger at the way he was speaking. "No one wants you here. You don't have friends here anymore. Romi and Brad invited you because they were obligated to so don't go around thinking that you're special because, if it was up to them, they wouldn't invite someone who I've outright said didn't belong."

Charlie probably thought that he was being clever, but he just sounded like a spoilt, put-out child who hadn't gotten his way for the first time and was throwing a tantrum because he didn't know what else to do.

"Do you really think so? Or can you just not stand the fact that there's someone out there who doesn't worship the ground you walk on?" Someone 'oohed' in the background, and I had to fight the smile that was threatening to take over.

"Why would anyone take your side over mine, faggot?" Charlie said and my hand flew to my mouth in shock. I was enraged at what he said. Throwing around the word faggot like it was some derogatory insult just wasn't done. Besides, it was also a lie that was meant to insult Chris.

"You know what, Charlie? I'm done with you and all of your bullshit." Chris burst out, his voice suddenly murderously firm, "I'm leaving."

"I'll come with you." I said hurriedly, looking nervously at Charlie and at the small crowd that had gathered. Of course there had to be a scene.

Chris just looked at me. He didn't nod nor did he say no, so I just assumed that he'd accepted it.

I followed him out of the ballroom, then out of the hotel and onto the street. He was walking fast, too fast for my heel-clad feet to keep up with.

"Where are we going?" I asked, wishing I had the time to reach down and pull my shoes off.

"You'll see." He didn't say more than that and I didn't think I should dig deeper. I'd find out soon enough, anyway.

We walked a lot, until we reached the center of town, with the stores and restaurants and all that and Chris led me into a small, hole-in-the-wall diner that was barely even seen beside the boutique and the restaurant that were on either side.

When we entered, we took our seats across from each other in a booth. Chris had been quiet the entire time, as if trying to get his head together, only opening his mouth to tell the waitress that he didn't want anything but a black coffee, his appetite probably having been lost. I knew the feeling.

My stomach was churning nervously too much for me to eat a morsel, so I just asked for a Diet Coke with as much ice as possible, breaking my diet in desire of the fizzy, heavenly drink.

We were brought our drinks in a matter of minutes, with the waitress looking oddly at us, all dressed up in our sleek formal attire. Chris just held his coffee mug in his hands, staring emptily into its depths. I gulped down my Diet Coke, immediately feeling refreshed. I also discreetly slipped off my heels as my feet were practically begging for mercy and I was pretty sure they were blistered, too.

"It is." He agreed and we sat like that for a little while longer before he sighed.

"I'm sure you want to know what exactly went down between Charlie and I." It wasn't a question, so I didn't bother answering.

"I told him one of my biggest secrets and he reacted, to say the least explosively. He just went on and on insulting me and hurling all sorts of abuse at me that I just lost my shit. So, I punched him. He then proclaimed that we weren't friends any longer, as if I still wanted to even be around him." He chuckled humorlessly.

"What was the secret?" I asked softly, my voice coaxing.

"I'm surprised you haven't guessed by now, Taylor Channing." Another humorless laugh, "I'm gay."

He said it so matter-of-factly, so cut and dry, with no additions and no frills attached that, for a second, I was in shock.

"What did you just say?" I demanded, just as everything began making sense. The way Charlie called him a faggot, the way he sometimes gave Ryo a second glance, how angry and unwilling to say a word he'd been after fighting with Charlie, his supposed best friend.

"I said that I'm gay." He clenched his fists and shut his eyes, as if expecting the worst.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" I questioned, making sure that my voice was calm even though my blood was boiling.

"Please, after the way Charlie reacted? Do you think I was ready to face that kind of judgement again?" Honestly, I was offended.

"Excuse me?" I demanded, exploding, causing Chris to look at me in bewilderment, "Do you really think so little of me? Do you really have so little faith in me? I thought we were friends! You're not supposed to keep things as important as these from me. You're especially not supposed to believe that I could ever react so disgustingly. Of course I'd never judge you!"

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Chris asked dryly, running his hands over the edges of the coffee mug, trying to warm them.

"What?" I huffed.

"This isn't about you, Taylor." He said, firmly, "So, please shut up."

"I'm sorry." I apologized, immediately guilty. Chris knew exactly what to do to out someone in their place, something he had in common with Julio. They'd probably get along.

"It's fine. But just let me talk today." Chris' statement actually surprised me. He never actually spoke too much and, even when he did, it was generally something of little importance, not anything that meant something to him.

"Alright. Tell me everything."

And so he did. About how he, when he was slightly younger, had realized that he wasn't like the other guys, that he didn't find girls cute. About how his mother had immediately begun resenting him, as her only son had turned out this way. About how he'd had no one for the longest.

And I just let him speak.

An hour or so later, both of us had glassy eyes and slightly forced smiles. I couldn't believe that Chris had gone through so much and had still emerged so strong.

His coffee had long since gone cold, and he didn't bother finishing it—lukewarm coffee was disgusting, anyway— and my Diet Coke lay forgotten on the table, despite my earlier enthusiasm.

"Well, I think we're sufficiently depressed for tonight." Chris joked, trying to lighten the mood, "Or do you want to tell me stories about your shitty mother too?" He asked, and I giggled.

"I don't think so. I have very limited storied and I think you've heard all of them at this point."

"Do you want to go back to the party or just forget it?" I added after a moment's silence. Neither of us really knew what to say at this point.

"I don't think that I'm up for that. Especially if that little shit Charlie is still there. Knowing him, he'll stay until he's the last one left." Chris scoffed and, as far as I knew, that did sound like him.

"So what do you want to do now?" I asked, knowing that our options were limited. The mall was overrated, there weren't any good movies showing, home was a nightmare with my mother there for the weekend and, from what I'd heard, his mother was even worse and she was always home. Poor boy.

"You wanna just stay here? I'm actually pretty hungry. I could go for a huge cheeseburger and fries right now." He suggested and, immediately, the awkwardness dissipated. It was hard to feel awkward around him for too long. It was hard to be awkward around anyone you knew like the back of your hand.

"Of course. I'm still not in the mood for food, but you can eat." I said, taking a sip of my Diet Coke that was still, surprisingly, cold.

"You don't have much of an appetite, do you, scrawny?" He teased, sounding too much like Chase. For a moment, a pang of homesickness hit me and my eyes stung with tears at the thought of it, but I discreetly blinked them away and smiled at the boy who was slowly becoming my best friend.

I shrugged in response, and he didn't say another word. He was generally a quiet person, I knew. He spoke to me when he felt like it, but there were times when he wouldn't say anything because he just didn't want to.

He called the waitress over and ordered. I was sure she was glad that we were actually getting something substantial instead of just those drinks.

"Is there someone in this god-awful town I can set you up with?" I asked, leaning back slightly.

"I'm sure there is, but I don't know if anyone here is open about it. Especially someone my parents would approve of." He sighed, and I rested my hand over his, looking him straight in the eye, in the kind of meaningful way that suggested I was about to give him life-changing advice.

"Fuck them." I said, honestly, and he let out a short, surprised laugh. That hadn't been what he was expecting in the least.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what you think I mean." His eyes were wide, shocked at my advice, "Fuck. Them." I repeated.

I continued a few seconds later, after a deep breath, "Look, they don't matter. In a situation like this, you're bound to disappoint them and you shouldn't care if you're disappointing them or not. They can't get over something as simple as your sexuality, so you should just fuck them. Not literally, of course, but you should just fuck what they think. Let them think what they want to."

He chuckled again. It was a short, husky sound that indicated an amusement that was just barely there. "Has anyone told you that you're incredibly unique, Taylor?"

"It's been said before." I informed him, thinking of a certain afternoon on a certain roof.

"Well, whoever said it was really wise." Chris muttered, almost offhandedly.

But then my head was immediately flooded with thoughts of a boy with eyes stormy and conflicted as a typhoon and a rare smile that was, without a doubt, stunning.

"Yeah," I agreed, a small smile accentuating my lips, "I think he is."

Chris didn't hear me, but that didn't matter, not really.