Eddy picked up his phone and dialed Mallory's number. He wondered if she would even be awake at this hour. After he pressed the 'call' button, the phone rang once, and Mallory picked up.

"Hello?" She asked, her voice sounding a bit tired. Had she been asleep? Eddy really hoped he had not woken her up.

"Hey, Mal? It's Eddy. I was uh- was wondering if you could talk to me for a bit?" He felt bad asking this of her, but they had known each other for a long time. He knew he would do the same for her.

She cleared her throat, "Hey, Eddy. Sure, we can talk, what do you need?" She asked.

"Well, it's about Brett," he started, "I don't know what's wrong with me." His voice trailed off, he had no idea what else to say.

"You don't know what's wrong with you, but you say this is about Brett?" Mallory prodded, her voice a mixture of questioning and sympathetic tones. Eddy was silent. "Did you two fight? Is that what happened?"

"N-no. I've just been having this strange feeling," He poured out all of the events of the past few weeks, sparing no detail. He told her about how the feeling bothered him when Brett said something nice to him, how it acted up whenever Brett decided to leave, and how it made is life miserable. "And then, tonight, I started thinking about when I had felt the feeling before," He recounted his flashbacks, "So, that's why I thought of you." He said, not knowing wether or not he should go on.

Mallory hummed. "There's something else, I can hear it in your voice. There's something you're not telling me," She said, matter-of-factly.

"I- It's just that I... I can't believe I really..." He tried, but he was too embarrassed to formulate what he had done into a coherent sentence. Eddy could just feel Mallory's eyes widening as she tried to figure out what he'd done. "I'm going to text it to you, ok?" He asked.

"Yeah? Okay?" She affirmed, her voice still sounding very questioning.

He pressed the 'home' button and opened messages. The same problem stared him in the face, but he just started typing, hoping it would make some sort of sense. 'Ok so idek what I was thinking but I knew I wasn't ok so I touched myself to try and make me feel better and while I did that I thought of Brett but wtf that is so weird why did I do that something is wrong with me' He pressed 'send' without even re-reading the message. The time-stamp said 2:46am. Why was he even still awake?

Mallory's sharp intake of breath snapped him out of his thoughts. "Eddy, first of all, I did not need to know that," She giggled a bit.

Her laughter helped calm Eddy down a bit. "Hey, you asked," He shot back. Don't ask things if you can't handle the answer.

"That I did, and now I regret it," Eddy imagined her rolling her eyes as she made that comment, "But anyway. Do you really not know what this feeling is, Eddy?" She asked in such a way that it made him feel stupid for not knowing. That part of himself which always told him that he was inferior to everyone else was having a hay-day. It loved to eat up all the negative thoughts and hold them over his head. He wasn't going to let it consume him now, though.

"No, I don't. Please tell me," He asked, waiting for her to tell him he was crazy or something. He sure felt like he was insane.

"Eddy, that's your...oh my gosh, how do I explain this to a boy?" She asked, out loud, but mostly to herself.

"My what, Mal?" He pleaded, his nerves riling him up again. He had to know what was wrong with him, this instant.

"Eddy, think back. You gave me two examples of times you've felt this feeling before. Who were the two people you connected the feeling with?" She asked. He wondered why she wouldn't just come out and tell him.

"Hana and Jen?" He asked, phrasing it as a question because, hadn't he just told Mallory in excruciating detail about both of them?

"Yes," Mallory said in an approving tone, "What did they both have in common?" She focused on getting Eddy to remember the details in the stories he had told her. He wanted him to be able to come to his own conclusion.

"Well, uh...not much, actually," Eddy admitted, "They both played instruments in an orchestra, they both loved music, they both had black hair, and they both wore glasses..."

Mallory mentally facepalmed. "That's not what I was talking about, Eddy," she chided, "I meant, what did they both have in common when it comes to relationships with you?"

Eddy raised his eyebrows, even though Mallory couldn't see him. What did she mean? "They were both really good friends of mine in their respective times, and I liked them both?" He hoped that's what she had been getting at.

It was. "Yes!" She exclaimed, "Do you see what I mean now?" She hoped he did. Not even a boy should be this blind to emotions.

"That...Brett is a really good friend of mine?" Eddy asked, confused. He had come to Mallory for some help, but she was just telling him things he already knew.

"No, Eddy! The second part!" Mallory said, exasperation laden in her voice. Check that, a boy could be this blind to emotions.

"I like...wait, you think I like Brett?" He asked, astonished. There was no way. Absolutely no way that he liked Brett. Brett was his best mate, why would he ruin the relationship by being attracted to him?

"No, Eddy, I know you like Brett." Mallory answered calmly.

Eddy laughed coldly. "I do not like Brett, Mallory," He said, shocking even himself by using her full name, "Goodbye, I might talk to you later."

Eddy heard Mallory breathe in urgently, "No, no, no, Eddy, please don't hang up, all you have to do is give it some time-" He cut her off by ending the call.

Mallory was wrong, there was no way he liked Brett. Sure, he both liked and loved Brett as a friend, but as absolutely nothing more than that. He put his phone on the charger, and turned over in bed. He was not going to let the negative thoughts take over, he was not going to let himself think of Brett.

That ended up being a bad choice, because instead of thinking thoughts of anger, the intense wave of guild washed over him again. Tenfold, this time. Not only had he done things he shouldn't have while thinking about his best mate, he had also hung up out of anger at another one of his good friends.

A single tear slipped out of his eye. He tried not to cry, but that, inevitably, was futile. The tears came, one after another, faster and faster, until he was crying steady streams. He had no idea when he fell asleep, all he knew was that, for the first time in years, he had cried himself to sleep.