Grayson and I decided to stay in this weekend instead of going out like we had planned before everything that happened the past couple days. I slept almost my entire Saturday away. I was prepared to do the same on Sunday, but when Grayson realized I wasn't following him out of bed this morning, he said, "Nope! Nuh-uh. You're only allowed to be depressed for one day. Now come downstairs with me and let me make breakfast for you."

He spoke in a joking manner, and I knew if I really felt the need to have one more day laying in bed, he'd let me. But Grayson was right, I needed to get out of bed and face another day of reality.

And the reality was that we needed to find out who took those photos. And then find out what phone they have, cause damn were those pictures clear and I need an upgrade.

So, after breakfast- yummy chocolate chip pancakes- Grayson and I decided it was time to do some investigating and bring in some reinforcements. That being, Alex, Marisa, and Jessica.

I'm not too sure what they can help with, but the company will be nice.

Marisa and Jessica texted me saying they'd be over in a half hour and Grayson left to pick up Alex who couldn't borrow his mom's car today. So for the time being, it's just me alone in the Clarke's house.

This is until the doorbell rings. I get off the couch, bracing myself for what I'm sure I'm about to receive is a big hug from Marisa and Jessica. But when I open Grayson's front door, it's the last person I expected to find. "Preston... what are you doing here?"

Preston looks awful. He has dark bags under his eyes. His hands are frigidity, his hair looks as though a bird could take shelter upon it.

"Is, uh..." Preston looks behind me as if searching for someone. "are you um-"

"I'm alone," I help him out, still shock that he's willingly standing in Grayson's doorway. He nods but doesn't speak further. "Uh, how did you know I was here?"

"Alex told me you were here. Can I come in?" His eyes are desperate.

"Uh, y-yeah sure," I take a step back and open the door wider.

Preston walks into the living room and anxiously paces.

"Uh... are you okay?" I ask as I hesitantly step closer to him after shutting the front door. I'm so confused right now.

He sighs, "fuck it," he mutters before wrapping his arms around me, hugging me.

To say I'm stunned is an understatement. Nonetheless, I hug him back, tightly as if scared that if I let go, he'll leave.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into the crook of my neck and I feel my eyes burning with the need to cry.

"Me too," I tell him.

Preston pulls back, shaking his head, "no. I'm the one who's apologizing. I'm a shit friend and a shittier person."

"No, you're not."

"I shouldn't have called you a faggot." Now he looks like he's about to cry.

"Preston-"

"Let me finish. It's been only four days and everything that's happened between us still replays on a loop in my head and I can't fucking sleep knowing my best friend probably thinks I hate him. I don't, Reid. I could never hate you. If anything I hate myself for the way I treated you and if I could take back calling you a faggot, I would. Cause you have to know that you're not and I don't think you are.

"I was just so fucking hurt and felt betrayed knowing that my best friend didn't feel the need in telling me about his sexuality and who he was dating. I thought we both trusted each other enough to tell each other everything. And then when I found out about you and Grayson, I flipped. But Reid, I don't give a shit about your sexuality and I'm sorry if I ever came off like I would care about it. I love you Reid, and not having you around sucks. It really fucking sucks. And I just-"

I yank him into another hug. Then we both started laughing at how emotional we were being and pull away from each other.

"I love you too," I say. "And you're wrong, I should also be apologizing because I never want you to think I don't trust you. I do trust you, but you have to understand how difficult it was to even come to terms with my sexuality in the first place. I hated myself for having feelings for Grayson. I don't anymore, but at one point I did. And I knew deep down, inside, you wouldn't care, but there was still that possibility. That small possibly that you'd hate me, and every time I wanted to tell you, it was that small possibly stopping me. I'm sorry. And as for you calling me a faggot, I forgive you."

"But I was the one at fault," Preston pushes, "You we're just outed to the entire school and I was being a prick and made it about me. That was really selfish and I'm sorry."

"Well, you're always a prick." I say lightheartedly. "But I still love you."

Preston chuckles almost in relief more than anything, before collapsing on to the couch. I sit next to him. After a moment of silence- both of us needing time to let everything sink in- I ask, "so we're friends again?"

"Best friends again," he corrects and I've never felt happier. "So... how's the sex?"

I laugh, "really good, actually."

"Gross," he says but is smiling. "I obviously missed a lot, so I guess start from the night of the party."

"What?"

Preston rolls his eyes, "Tell me about Grayson, dumbass."

I smile and begin to tell my best friend about Grayson (leaving out some details, obviously) and how our relationship started.

"Hold up, so Alyssa, like, raped you?"

I wince at that horrible word. "why does everybody keep saying that?" By everyone I mean Grayson and now Preston. "We were dating."

"Reid, she pressured you into having sex with her. It doesn't matter if you guys were dating. You didn't want to have sex with her, tried stopping her multiple times, and she implies that she'll spread a rumor about you being gay if you don't sleep with her? That's fucked."

"Ugh, please stop talking about it. I regret it so much, it makes me wanna' throw up and you and Grayson making me feel like some rape victim doesn't help."

"Jesus Reid. Why didn't you tell me?" He mutters.

"It was embarrassing. I didn't even want to tell Grayson, but I just felt like I had to tell him."

"She's lucky she's a girl otherwise I would beat her ass." Preston seethes angrily.

"Anyway," I say, ignoring Preston's comment, "and then obviously you know about the pictures, but the person who took them also left one for my parents in our mailbox. My parents kicked me out on Friday."

"Shit, Reid. Alex told me you're staying at Grayson's now, but he didn't tell me why. I'm so sorry."

I shrug, even though my heart's throbbing in pain. I quickly swipe my hand over my eyes before any tears can fall and clear my throat. "Now, Grayson's picking up Alex and then Marisa and Jessica are coming over so we can figure out who took the photos."

"Probably dick-weed Colton," Preston says in disgust. I'm about to speak on that until the door opens with Grayson and Alex walking in.

"Hey, Alex was telling me that-" Grayson cuts himself short when he spots Preston.

Preston stands up immediately and so do I.

"Why the fuck are you in my house?" Grayson questions my best friend, his blue eyes a shade darker.

Alex shuts the front door behind them and watches the exchange between Grayson and Preston just a cautiously as I am watching them.

Instead of answering Grayson's question, Preston takes a firm step closer to my boyfriend and says, "I'm sorry about everything and what I said to you. I was a dick."

"Yeah, you were," Grayson agrees matter-of-factly.

I give Grayson a pointed look as if to say try to be nice.

Grayson catches my expression, "What, am I supposed to forgive him for calling my boyfriend a faggot in front of the entire school?"

"No," Preston surprisingly says. "But I just wanted to apologize. You don't have to forgive."

Grayson squints his eyes at Preston, questioning his honesty.

I glance at Alex who then shrugs at me. Then I turn back to Grayson and give him a pleading look. Grayson meet my line of sight, rolls his eyes, sighs dramatically, then gives in. "Fine. You can stay."

I smile and Preston visibly relaxes.

"But I don't forgive you," Grayson tell Preston. My best friend nods and is about to sit on the couch until Grayson demands, "no sitting on my couch. Or La-Z-Boy. Sit on the ground."

Alex laughs at my boyfriend's pettiness, clapping him on the shoulder before taking a seat on the couch himself. I chuckle too as I watch Preston sit on the carpeted floor while the rest of us sit on the couch. Grayson sitting next to me then placing a kiss on my lips.

"Thank you," I whisper to him for allowing Preston to stay. He gives me a smile a brief nod.

Marisa and Jessica got here about five minutes after Grayson and Alex arrived.

"Okay, I say we march over to Colton's house and bang on his door and threaten him until he tells us what he knows," Preston suggests with an evil smile from where he's kneeling on the floor.

All six of us were sitting in Grayson's living room, coming up with suggestions on who we think would tape pictures of Grayson and I all over the school.

"Colton didn't take the photos," Grayson states. "He had a party that night."

"Are you sure?" Marisa asks. "I was talking to Jenny, ya' know Jenny Ferguson? And she's always at school super early and she said she saw Colton's car parked out in the lot at like five am or something," she tells us. And no, I don't know Jenny Ferguson, but the name sounds familiar.

"But that doesn't make sense," I say, "I mean, this is definitely something he'd do, but what? Throw a party just to have an alibi to go to the outlet mall to take pictures of Grayson and I? He's not smart enough for that."

"And how would he even know we were going to that mall?" Grayson questions.

"Yeah, I guess that doesn't add up," Jessica comments, looking as stumped as the rest of us.

"Okay," Alex begins, he pushes his glasses up to his face while he paces the room. "I do think Colton still could've taped to photos up at school. Only cause his car being there is a little too suspicious. But what if he wasn't the one who took the pictures? Maybe he was at his party and someone else took the pictures and then asked him to hang them up?"

"But who would ask him to do that? Why wouldn't they just do it themselves?" I ask.

Alex shrugs, "Only one way to find out. Let's go talk to Colton."

The last thing I want to do today is talk to the biggest bully in my entire class, but here I am, standing nervously on Colton Rivers front porch while Grayson bangs on Colton's front door.

All five of my friends stand looking determined, while I on the other hand, feel and probably look nauseous. This 'talk' could go very badly. I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me.

Grayson's on his thirteenth knock by the time Colton finally answers the door. "Alright! Fuck, what do ya' wa-" Colton stops when he sees all of us. Then he smirks, "I don't want any Girl Scout cookies so y'all can fuck off."

"Funny," Grayson states sardonically and pushes past Colton and storms in.

"Hey?! What the fuck?!" Colton exclaims and we all push through and enters his house. "Get the hell out of my house!"

"It was you who put the pictures up, wasn't it?!" Marisa seethed, pointing a finger in the bully's face.

He scoffs, "calm down, baby girl, it's not pretty when you're emotional like that."

Before Marisa could speak, I grab her arm and pull her back a step right as Grayson, Alex, and Preston steps closers to Colton, ready to throw hands.

"Don't fucking talk to her like that," Alex seethes at the same time as Grayson says, "don't call her 'baby girl'." All the while, Preston demanding, "answer her question!" Before shoving Colton back.

"Alright, Alright!" Colton surrenders, his hands up. "Me, Dylan, and Trevor printed and put up the photos, but I didn't take the photo and neither did they."

"Then who did?!" Preston yelled.

"I don't know, someone texted it to me. It was some random number and the text said 'expose him'. When I tried calling the number, I was blocked. I don't know who sent it," Colton explains sounding bored. "Now, can y'all fuck off? It was just a joke."

Numerous scoffs are sounded from all of us with a few insults and comments like "you're a dick," or "what an asshole," and "unbelievable."

But I ignore Colton's rude statement and focus on the first part. "Prove it, show me the texts" I demand.

Colton sighs, muttering, "you guys are so fucking annoying," then reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his messages then turns the phone to me to reveal the texts. Just like Colton said, someone sent the photo then told him to expose us to the whole school.

But that's not what got me. What made my heart drop was who's number it was. I knew that person all too well.

Alyssa.

I should've known.