When we made it back, Shuri immediately began to show Harley around the place, which left Wade and I to go to our room.

If I was being honest, I would say that I'm worried about him. Even though he's been a total asshole, I still care about the kid. Harley had given us detailed descriptions of what he was like before all the trauma, and he seemed like someone I would be friends with. Plus, the stuff that happened was terrifying, and I don't blame him for acting out.

I walked into our room, hearing Wade shut the door behind us. Then I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned with surprise, wondering what he wanted to say. He was biting his lip when I looked at him, and his eyes showed sadness. But when he brought his eyes up to meet mine, they were filled with lust.

Wade suddenly kissed me, pushing me up against the wall and roughly colliding his lips with mine. His left hand was caressing my cheek and his right hand was in my hair as he did so. My eyes widened and I was in too much shock to do anything at first, but eventually I got the courage to push him off of me.

"What the hell Wade?!" I exclaimed. He moved his hands down from my face and to my belt, where I heard him start to undo it. I slapped his hands. "Why are you like this?" I asked him.

Wade took a few steps back, eyes turning from lustful to confusion, then to sadness once more. He looked down at the ground for a few moments. He rubbed his chin with his hand, biting his lip as if he didn't know what to do or say. "Like what?" He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking back up at me.

"Like... this! You... you're all mad and stuff all the time and then you... try and kiss me and try to sleep with me.... and then you're sad... then happy then angry then lustful then angry it's all weird!" I ran my fingers through my hair and began to pace around the room. "How do you not realize this? There's something wrong with you and it's freaking me and everyone else out."

Wade winced, sitting down at his bed. "There's nothing fucking wrong with me, bellhead," He snapped, bringing his hands out of his pockets and rubbing his chest.

I shook my head. "Yes there is. You need help. So do I. I'm out here with a broken voice, only talking to people that I am familiar with. Every time a loud sound is made, it triggers this god awful pain that makes me curl up into a ball and scream. I'm not afraid to admit it!" I exclaimed. "Steve said he might take us to some sort of psychologist."

Wade suddenly stood up. "Hell no!" He exclaimed. "There's no way in this goddamn universe that I'm going to a psychologist. I'm not some nutjob freak," He snapped.

I shook my head. "It's not a place where nutjobs go, Wade. It's for people like us," I argued.

"Correction, people like you. I'm normal, you're the freak," Wade replied. I snorted. I wasn't really phased since I was used to Wade's rude comments.

"What do I have to do to make you go?" I asked him, biting the inside of my cheek.

"Nothing," He answered. "I'm not going. No matter what you do. Just mind your own business from now on."

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine," I responded, crossing my arms. "I guess I'll just look in your diary while you're asleep."

Wade sat back down on his bed. "My what?" He asked me in a low voice, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

I grinned. "You're diary. You know, the one you wrote it while you cried that one night? Yeah. That diary. I'll read every single page. Then I'll tell Shuri about it the next morning," I informed him, keeping a confident posture so he didn't think I was bluffing.

Wade just sat there for a moment with no emotion on his face. Then he dove for his backpack. Luckily I did too at the same time. I know what he's doing. He's trying to get rid of his journal so I can't read it. He got the handle at the top of the backpack before me, snatching it towards him. But I grabbed the strap and pulled it enough towards me where I could reach the zipper.

I unzipped it, causing things from his backpack to fly everywhere. My gaze darted across the floor, then I spotted the red and black book on the ground. Wade must've saw it at the same time, since we both dove for it. Unfortunately for Wade, it was closer to me, and I landed on it before he did.

I stood back up with the journal in my hands, staring confidently back at Wade who stood up panting. "So, what do you say?" I asked him, holding the book out. "I read your diary right here and now, or you go see the psychologist with me?"

Wade sighed. "Fine, I'll go with you. Just hand me back my book," He ordered, reaching out for it.

I snatched it towards me so he couldn't grab it. "You promise?" I asked him, not entirely trusting if he'd go with me.

"I'm a man of my word," Wade replied.

I sighed, handing him the journal. "Steve should be home soon. I'll tell him that you and I want to go. You better come willingly," I warned Wade, who was stuffing the book back in his backpack.

"Okay," I heard him mumble. I watched as he began to pick up stuff off the floor and place it back in his bag. I started to feel bad when he did that, so I decided to help him out.

Just this once.