And when love speaks,

The voice of all the gods

Makes heaven drowsy

With the harmony.

A N N A B E T H

I have always chosen to steer clear of the emotion hate, purely because of what the depth of this very feeling could lead to.

That certainly didn't mean that I was opposed to disliking people.

So, at this exact moment, there are three people in this world that I really, really dislike. If I were to list them from the person that I disliked the least to the person I disliked the most, it would be:

One, the guy who made me drop my ice cream, after that extra-long shift that I had to work at the diner yesterday,

Two, Ralph Reynolds,

And three, Yvonne Irvine.

Shocker, right? I disliked someone more than I disliked Ralph freaking Reynolds. 

I don't blame you for being surprised, it's something a lot of people didn't think was possible.

Who is this person? And what kind of sorcery has she performed to get you to dislike her more than you dislike a certain blonde jerk? 

If that's what you're wondering, I'll put it in simple words: Yvonne Irvine, Clifford's resident (somewhat stereotypical) Queen Bee, is...not a very nice person.

If you'd like some context as to where some of this dislike stems from, Yvonne was Obby's girlfriend.

The one who slept with Ralph, my twin brother's supposed best friend, on the exact same day Ralph told me that he liked me and asked me to be his girlfriend.

...Yeah.

So, when I say that her hovering presence on this Monday morning was the last thing I needed, I really meant it.

My current mood: all of a sudden I hear this agitating, grating voice-

"Annabeth, hey girlie!" an overly friendly voice says, and I all but beg the ground to open up and swallow me there. 

You know those girls who absolutely hate you, know that you know that they hate you, and still pretend to be overly friendly as if they're your best friends when they're right in front of you?

That's Yvonne. Faux friendliness was her thing.

I force a smile as I turn to her. "Yvonne, hi."

She gives me a once-over that has me questioning my outfit, before she smiles brightly at me.

I had to give it to her, Yvonne was pretty. She was very, very pretty and she knew it. She was shorter than I was, but she had these big, hazel doe eyes and long, wavy brown hair that always had people salivating.

The way she looked in no way reflected her personality, though. She was evil. 

"Did you need something?" I prod politely, turning back to face my locker.

"Oh no honey, I just thought I'd say hi," she says, in that same sweet voice that almost has me cringing, "I just had the best weekend ever- "

My eyebrows furrow into a small frown.

Weekend? That's what she was here to talk about?

Did she even remember that it was Obby's birthday two days ago, on Saturday? The weekend? The guy who she 'ardently and passionately loved'? The same guy whose forgiveness she had begged for, with tears (albeit they were fake, crocodile tears) when the whole ordeal had gone down?

I want to scoff at her.

"That's nice," I cut her off, as politely as I can, instead. "I'm not sure why you're telling me about it, though."

She giggles and that sound makes me want to run away. 

"Because it's about Ralph, silly!" she says, before her expression changes into a saddened one- that's almost mocking, "Wait... you don't still have that ridiculous crush on him, do you? Oh, I'm so sorry Annabeth. I shouldn't have brought it up."

See, there used to be a time that those words would've stung. Like more than a hundred wasps stung. Yvonne knew that and she would love to bask in the fact that I was miserable.

At this exact moment however, I can't help the laugh that tumbles out of me.

Her eyes narrow, and I immediately clamp my mouth shut- although there's a part of me that still wants to smile at how bizarre that statement was.

"What?" she says, leaning against the locker next to mine, "What's funny?"

"No, I just-" I shake my head, "You're so right. It was a ridiculous crush. I can't believe I liked him at one point."

He had shown me exactly the kind of person he was, and I was never going to be that poor in judging a person's character ever again. Liking him, as a friend, or even as a person, was completely out of the question.

Her head jerks back as if she was surprised at the confession, but she recovers quickly.

"Oh, that's so good for you," she smiles brightly, but her expression is tighter than it was before, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind me recounting the details of the weekend, then, hmm? Just for the sake of Girl Talk?"

I open my mouth to tell her that I couldn't care less about what she had done at any point in this year- though I would have probably framed that sentence in a much, much nicer way- but she beats me to it.

"We had the best sex ever," she says, triumph gleaming in her eyes, as if she had just achieved something by telling me that. "Oh, and- "

"Uh okay," I interrupt, as my nose automatically scrunches in disgust. Like ew. TMI Yvonne, TMI. "It's nice to know that you guys are um- sex buddies, but I'd rather not hear about it, thank you."

"Oh no," she says sweetly, as if she wanted to rub something in my face. "We aren't fuck buddies. He's my boyfriend. He asked me before you guys left for your program- didn't you know?"

Boyfriend?

The laugh that slips out, is again, completely unintentional. She could not be serious.

Seeing the irritation in her expression however, I pause. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Yes," she snaps, before taking a breath to compose herself, as if she had realized her tone. "Yes," she says again, her voice sweet "He's my boyfriend."

I stared at her for a couple of seconds as my brain contemplated doing something.

Should I do it? Or should I not do it?

I mean, she has always disliked me, for reasons unbeknownst to me and because of that, I have always been victim to her subtle, snooty little verbal jabs. I had always told myself to never stoop to her level and speak to her the way she really deserves to be spoken to, but my friends didn't hold back at all.

Even when Obby broke up with her, despite pretending to be heartbroken, she'd rub it in my face- the fact that she 'had Ralph', had slept with him, but mainly the fact that he had chosen her over me. It was all, 'Poor Annabeth,' and 'I had no idea,' and 'I'm sorry, but not too sorry'.

You know what? She deserves it. 

This is going to be the meanest thing I've ever done.

"Boyfriend, you say?" I inquire with mock curiosity. "For over a month now?"

"Yes," she repeats, mild irritation slipping onto her face, "Why'd you say it like that?"

"Oh, no reason," I shrug innocently, before frowning slightly. "It's really weird though.... He wouldn't stop spamming my phone with voicemails, texts, and calls, during the program. I could've sworn some of them were something along the lines of 'I never stopped liking you'  or 'give me another chance' , but oh well," I shrug innocently again. "I blocked him after that, and I deleted most of those messages without reading them. It was getting annoying, y'know?"

MWAHAHA. I was cackling evilly inside my head.

Somebody get me a cat and a rotating chair.

This was so mean, but I loved it.

The best part? I wasn't even lying.

Nuh uh, every single word that I had said was completely and utterly true. 

Ralph had, much to my annoyance, spammed my phone with texts, calls and voice mails, stuff that I always promptly deleted. However, much to my relief, he had gone radio silent after the encounter with James.

But that wasn't the only thing I was going to tell her.

I was going to be extra mean. Cackle, cackle, mother truckers.

"Oh, and um," I lean closer to her as if I was going to tell her a secret. "That, and I think I just saw Ralph and Brianna going at it near the janitor's closet, but oh well." I shrug innocently again.

I nearly have to bite my lip off to keep myself from smiling as I turn to my locker to innocently continue to arrange my books.

I hear an annoyed huff from my left. 

"You know what? Fine, whatever," she snaps. "For the record, I think you're just jealous because I stole the guy you liked."

Stole? What was he, an object?

"Me? Jealous?" I giggle again before I can help it, just because my incredulity gets the better of me, "I'm sorry, but you couldn't be more mistaken."

She scoffs. "Please. I know you are. It's not like you have a new boyfriend or something- who'd even date you?"

And bam. That hurt, and she knew it would. The little confidence that I had built up during the course of that whole interaction crumbled.

It wasn't like her to not keep going though. I expected much worse to follow. However, when I turn to face her, her attention was fixed on something behind me, her eyes slightly wide and her mouth agape.

Soon enough, she begins twirling her hair with her fingers in a manner that was supposed to be sultry, with a flirtatious smile on her face.

"Oh," she says, "Oh wow. I should've signed up for the exchange program. I didn't know the guys looked like this."

This time I really did scoff- but it was quiet, so I doubt she heard it.

Yes, it was the day our partners were starting with their share of time that they were supposed to spend at our school, and yes, we had a seminar like thing in a few minutes, but I had no intention of sticking around to see which unfortunate, stupid soul from Lakeview had fallen prey to Yvonne's smile. In all probability, there was someone approaching us at this exact moment.

"Oh, he's coming here," Yvonne says with a giggle, waving flirtatiously again, confirming my suspicions. "He's totally checking me out- "

I get ready to bolt, but a warm hand presses against my side making me freeze. 

Fingers span against my hip gently, as a thumb brushes a small circle right above my hip, and I can feel him right behind me before I hear him.

"Hey," a familiar deep voice murmurs tiredly.

I can't help the way my face turns red. Whether it's because of his hand, because of his voice, because of him. Gah, I don't even know.

I can hear Yvonne's shocked sputter but I'm suddenly so incredibly flustered, that I can't even bring myself to look at her.

"Oh uh," I take a step away, so that his hand is no longer touching me, "Hi, James."

He frowns slightly- whether it was because of the awkward greeting or because I stepped away, I'm not sure. I stay completely silent, glancing around- reluctant to look at him.

"You okay?" he says lowly, and I don't like how my brain choses to focus very hard on how nice his voice sounds.

"Yeah," I manage.

"You sure?" this time I look at him. While his expression is blank, there's a tiny furrow in his eyebrow.

"Mhmm."

A throat clearing from my side reminds me that there's another person next to us, and as I turn to her I see her expression contort into a mixture of annoyance and shock.

James steps closer to me, showing no signs that he even noticed her- and that's when her usual sultry smile makes a reappearance.

"And who might you be, handsome?" she purrs, raising her hand to trail a manicured nail down the side of his arm.

The sudden urge to slap her hand away engulfs me. I frown before I can help it, and then I push it away.

He completely disregards her presence, his gaze still on me. Only, his hand moves, shrugging out of her hold.

Okay. That was funny. 

Her smile falters and she blinks, while I have to press my lips together to stop myself from laughing. Suck on that, Yvonne.

To her credit, she recovers from the momentary surprise and she straightens again, this time, looking at me.

"Annabeth," she says with the fakest smile on her face, and I know she's gritting her teeth, "Won't you introduce us?"

No.

I look between the both of them hesitantly.

I wasn't even sure why I suddenly felt incredibly reluctant. It wasn't because I didn't know how to introduce them, but this...this was James.

James, my partner. James, the one who'd tried so hard with the apology even though it was completely out of his comfort zone. James, who was still looking at me intently- as if he was trying to figure out what was going on right now. 

I didn't want her to sink her claws into him. 

He did claim that he cared about me, and I cherished that. So much. 

But what if... I introduced them, and he just... forgot about me? 

It had happened before with other people, why wouldn't it happen again?

I force myself to take a breath. There's no need to be petty or overthink, I tell myself.

"Um," I clear my throat, once I finally have my thoughts together, "Yvonne, this is James, and uh- James this is Yvonne."

Should I say it?

I so should.

"She's Ralph's girlfriend," I add, looking up at his face.

The flash of disgust that passed in his expression didn't go unnoticed by either of us, as he spares her a single disgusted glare, stepping away from her further. His eyes gravitate to me once more. "Blondie's girlfriend? The one who- "

I nod meekly, looking at her expression from the corner of my eyes.

A glare.

Aw, poor thing. So angry that a guy didn't like her. How sad.

That thought was so mean. Where was this even coming from?

"Well," she says, undeterred as she turns back to him, smiling sweetly, "I could show you around school- "

"No."

Her mouth opened and closed, like a fish out of water.

"B-But," she stammers, clearly taken off guard. "I'm- I'm one of the tour guides, I don't have anything else to do- "

"Tragic."

I have to cough to hide my laughter.

It is really mean to find this funny, isn't it? I couldn't bring myself to care at that moment, however.

James turns to me, while she stands there looking completely insulted. "We have a program seminar right now, in Room 117. Take me there?"

I nod, but before I can give him a verbal response, he tugs gently at my arm pulling me away.

I look over my shoulder, just to see Yvonne send me a vicious glare before she flips her hair over her shoulder dramatically, as one does, and struts away.

"I hate that girl already," I hear James mutter under his breath, and all the worry from before disappears almost instantly. He glances at me from the corner of his eyes, his voice a tad bit more gentle. "Which way to Room 117?"

Now that Yvonne is gone, I feel weird all over again. I blink up at him reluctantly, before sliding my gaze away.

Now, Now Annabeth, I can practically hear everyone say, Where's the bubbly spirit gone? Why are you being weird around this man? 

I hadn't forgotten the things he had told me before he left.

He had said that we weren't friends.

He had said that we were only partners for a program that he didn't want to be a part of.

He had said that the only reason he tried to be civil was because he couldn't handle someone as sensitive as I am.

He had said that he didn't want to be paired with someone like me in the first place.

And a part of me couldn't help but wonder if all of it was true, even though he apologized for it.

A part of me wondered if he truly did like me and cared about me the way he said he did.

I thought I had grown on him, but was I wrong?

Besides, he was going to be leaving again in three weeks. Did that mean he was going to have another angry outburst again? After three weeks of allowing myself to grow attached?

What if he was just being civil right now- because he felt obligated to, since he was working with someone sensitive, only to snap again after three weeks?

And I know, I know, he apologized. I know it was sincere- but while I was one to forgive, things like this couldn't be forgotten, could they?

I had told him that we'd talk things out another time and we hadn't, so I truly didn't know where we stood. I didn't even know if I could or should go back to acting like everything was normal- like the way things were before.

"Evans?" I feel a small nudge, and I look at him from the corner of my eyes, "Everything okay?"

I nod.

He continues to look at me like he was trying to figure out what was wrong. 

"That girl," he says, inclining his head in the direction we had just walked from, "She seems like a bitch. She bothering you?"

"Not really," I say quietly, with a small shrug. The action makes me realize that he was still holding onto my arm, so I slowly pull my hand of his grasp. It makes him frown, but when he opens his mouth to make a comment he seems to notice something else that makes him pause.

"What are you wearing?" he says finally.

Uh, what?

I frown down at the dark sweatshirt I was wearing, and then my eyes go wide in realization. 

Oh. Oh my goodness.

"Is-" he pauses, his voice a little hoarse, "Is that mine?"

I want the ground to open, and swallow me whole. At this instant. Right now.

My cheeks flush a dark pink and I squeeze my eyes shut in embarrassment. I had overslept and this particular morning I had been in a hurry to get ready- so after a quick shower, I had thrown on the first sweatshirt that I had managed to lay my hands on, along with a pair of jeans.

I didn't realize that this sweatshirt, was his sweatshirt.

With my eyes still closed, I gathered that it was the one that he had given me when we were driving back to the dorms from the hospital, and I never realized that I hadn't given it back to him.

"I'm so, so sorry," I find myself saying, "I'll give it back to you right n-wait. I'll wash it first, and then I'll give it back, I can take it off right now and-"

"Don't," he says, and his voice is still weirdly hoarse, and more deep than usual, "Keep it on."

"And...give it to you tomorrow? I can d-"

"Keep it."

Oh. Okay. Okay. I nod, and then fiddle with the charm bracelet around my wrist.

And of course, nothing gets past this man. When I glance at him, although the remnants of his previous expression- one that I simply cannot understand- are still there, he looks oddly pleased.

"You do like it then?" he mutters, reaching for my wrist- but again I pull my hand away.

"Yeah," I hold my hand to my chest, making it a point to continue walking, "thank you, again. Um- Room 117's here."

There's a pause.

"Evans," he begins, but I just pretend not to hear him as I quickly step into the room and try to blend into the crowd, away from him.

I was sure that he didn't fail to notice my efforts to avoid talking to him.

Because despite my efforts, I could still feel his stare boring holes into my head.

*****

It was no different for the next few hours. I couldn't bring myself to speak much, without anticipating a glare or a harsh snap or him doing something to prove that he meant had said all those days ago. Every time I did say something to him, it was almost like my body physically and mentally recoiled in expectation of his reaction.

So, it was quiet. Too quiet.

It wasn't like he spoke much during any of the conversations we had had in the past anyway, so now that I wasn't incessantly rambling, something that I realized probably annoyed him, it was quiet.

I knew that it was starting to bother him, because out of the corner of my eye I could see him glance at me continually, open and close his mouth tentatively as if he wanted to say something, but each time, he held himself back.

I didn't like it. It was almost like I was half-ignoring him, but I couldn't help it.

As if that wasn't horrible enough already, Yvonne was in three out of four of the classes that we had to sit through so far, and she was always conveniently seated awfully close to us. When she wasn't trying to get James' attention and while he was busy ignoring her and completely disregarding her presence, I received a fair amount of her glares, and subtle jabs- ones that she made sure no one apart from her tight knit group of loyal friends could hear.

It was five minutes to lunch, and I had submitted my work, stepping out of class with the excuse that I needed to go to the bathroom, when really, I just needed some breathing space.

I leaned my head against the cool locker, drawing out a long sigh, my fingers coming up to massage my throbbing temples, as I tried to clear my head of all thoughts.

My short moment of peace was disrupted by the familiar clicking of heels.

Dang it.

"What are you doing with a guy like him?"

I groan quietly, raising my head to look at her.

"What are you talking about, Yvonne?" 

"James," she snarls, "is way out of your league. I don't even know why someone like you, is shooting your shot with him." She looks me up and down with a sneer. "Pathetic. You're trying so hard to get his attention."

Uh?

This has me frowning. I've practically ignored the guy all day, and she was the one trying to get his attention the whole time, so what was she getting at?

She rolls her eyes. "I can see right through whatever it is, that you're trying to do. Sitting with him, in every single class- "

"He's my partner Yvonne," I interrupt, exasperated, "And he chose to sit next to me in all those classes."

Just the way he chose to ignore you. No need to be more mean though.

She huffs, and her hazel eyes narrow. "What-ever. Stop trying so hard to get his attention. I'm sure he doesn't even like you- "

"What is your point?" I interject again, trying to ignore that tiny pinch in my chest.

"You're getting in my way," she says, matter-of-factly. "He and I are the kind that go together perfectly, and you're in the way."

I blink at her. And then I laugh again before I can help it, just because I literally don't know how to react. 

Because girl, be so for real.

Her glare intensifies and I force the laugh to die down in my throat.

"You told me," I say, raising my eyebrows at her, "just this morning, that you had a boyfriend. That too, Ralph. Not just any guy, Ralph. And now you're suddenly into another guy?"

She scoffs. "So what? It's not like I can't break up with him. When someone hotter comes along, you pick him- that's how life works-"

Bro??? What delulu juice has this girl been drinking?

"Um, no it doesn't," I say, when I can finally speak over my shock, "That's not-"

"I wasn't finished," she snaps, taking a threatening step closer, "Like I've said, you're in my way. So, get out of my way, or we're going to have problems. I can make your life worse than it already is."

She sashays away before I could say anything, leaving me to close my eyes and sigh.

Could this day get any worse?

*****

Apparently, it could.

So, don't ever ask yourself that question. You'll only jinx it.

The lunch bell rang soon after that interaction, but I had no intention of going to lunch soon. Ten minutes later, when I do finally step into the dining hall- I can see Yvonne standing next to James, attempting to get him to pay attention to her.

He looked annoyed. More annoyed that usual. His jaw was ticking like he was two seconds away from swatting her away, and his eyes were trained on the door- in a glare, of course- as if he was looking for an escape. 

Or waiting for someone to arrive, I realize, when his gaze softens slightly the moment his eyes meet mine, and he straightens- heading towards me.

Yvonne blinks in disbelief, before her eyes narrow and follow his line of vision. I see them narrow even more when she sees me, and then I see a certain expression come over her face that I've seen before- when bad things are about to happen.

"What took so long?"

I look at James, who was right in front of me as he asks that question. His gaze is concerned, and that surprises me and confuses me at the same time because it seems so open, all of a sudden.

He's usually... grumpier. More in control of the kind of emotions he lets slip. More, "Shut up, Evans, I'm not worried."

But right now, he's not. He's not even hiding the concern. It's different, and I don't know if it's a good thing or not.

"Bathroom," is what I come up with, and that just has him frowning again as his eyes search my face. I see his chest expand against his fitted shirt as he takes a deep breath and lets it go.

"Let's get food?" he asks, a little hesitant, and I nod, stepping into the lunch line next to him. I absentmindedly place a wrapped salad on my tray when it's my turn, before following after again.

I couldn't help but think Yvonne was going to kick up a big fuss. All her glaring, sneering and 'cornering me when I was alone in the corridor' had to mean something.

And then, it happened.

As we passed a certain table, just as I walked past, a foot stuck out.

The salad survived.

I didn't.

I stumble, and before I can regain any balance, I feel a harsh shove that pushes my face straight into the ground, real hard.

I know it was real hard because I can feel my nose make had contact with the tiled floors, and just for a moment, everything seems to spin. 

The chatter in the lunchroom dies down immediately, making it even more mortifying. The only table that wasn't quiet, was the one that we just passed, because I could hear soft laughter already past the ringing in my ears. 

Oh no. Oh no, Oh no, Oh no-

The pain only hits my five seconds after the fall. I can't help the little whimper that slips past my lips as I sit up and hold a hand against my nose. 

My eyes were burning too, but I wasn't going to let her see that she got to me. 

Not today.

Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry.

There's a tall, muscular figure that's down in front of me before I can even pull myself together, and warm arms are wrapping around me to steady me before I can protest.

"Shit," I hear him mutter, "Hey-hey, I got you, Evans, it's okay-"

"Annabeth!" comes a screech from my right that just makes me shrink into his arms,  "Can't you watch where you're going? You- "

The arms around me tense, and even though I'm not looking at him I know that any concern that might have been in his expression instantly melts away into thunderous glare.

"Shut the fuck up," he snaps, and I flinch involuntarily.

Her eyes widen in protest. "But- "

"You," he says, with burning anger, "You fucking tripped her, didn't you?" Even though he was asking her, his tone left no room for argument, almost as if he was daring her to say no.

"Annabeth, babe," I hear Bethany say, and through my blurry vision, I see her crouch in front of me, "How bad is it?"

I open my mouth to answer, but the only sound that comes out is a pained whimper. The hand that I was holding over my nose felt unnaturally warm and sticky, but I didn't want to let go of my nose, just yet. 

"Could you let go, for just a second?" she tries again, reaching for me, "I just want to see how bad it is."

I reluctantly let go of my nose, blinking back a wave of fresh tears.

If her horrified expression wasn't an indication that it looked bad, the crimson staining my palm definitely was.

Oh my god. Oh my god. Blood.

Okay. Okay. I can handle blood.

I just have to keep telling myself to stay calm. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. 

James seems to have seen it too, considering the sound of anger that rumbles out of him as his arms tighten around me.

"I have a strict policy," he grits, "about not hitting girls, but Vivian you're really testing it."

"It's Yvonne!" she cries, her pained expression disappearing almost instantly, "And I can't believe all of you are fawning over-" she gestures towards me with her hands "-I'm clearly the victim here because she tripped over my foot- "

"Are you asking to get hit?" James snarls.

She smirks at him, flipping her hair over her shoulder with a pretty smile. The absolute audacity of this girl is something I will never comprehend. 

"You won't hit me," she says confidently.

James glares at her and opens his mouth to respond, but someone beats him to it.

"That's right, he won't. But I will."

With that, Bethany lunged.

*****

"A two-day suspension?"

"Totally worth it," Bethany says, massaging her slightly bruised knuckles. "The bitch had it coming for all the shit she's been giving you."

I give her a tiny grateful smile. "You didn't have to hurt her that bad."

"She totally deserved it," she waves off, but her expression freezes a bit when someone else steps into the room, "When the hell did you get here?"

He narrows his eyes for a moment, but then when he sees all the people in the room- he sighs. "Right, what's all this then?"

"Ah," Bethany shifts in her spot, "A bitch nearly broke Annabeth's nose, so I broke hers. Oh, and I gave her a couple of other bruises too, because she totally deserved it."

Jaxon Walker blinked at his little sister. "Well that's one way to put it."

And that was exactly what had happened. I didn't see any of it because James managed to get me to my feet and towards the nurse's office while shielding my view of it, but I knew Bethany got her good.

Jaxon turns to me as Elliot comes to stand next to him, linking hands. "You okay, Annie?"

I manage a small nod, as the nurse, Mrs. Dallas comes back to check whether my nose has stopped bleeding. When she can confirm to it, she very happily hands me an ice pack. 

"Can you get one of your friends to hol-"

"I'll do it," James says before she can even finish the sentence, taking the ice pack from my hands.

His jaw was still incredibly tight, and his whole body language screamed that he was seething but there's no anger in the way his hands gently thread through my hair to hold me in place as he presses the ice pack to my nose.

It reminds me of the time we had to sleep in the same r- you know what? I'm not going there.

I wince slightly because of how cold it is, and I see his eyes harden which instantly makes me apologize, but he just shakes his head.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he says gruffly, "If there's anyone who should be sorry, it's that bitch Lavonne."

"Yvonne."

"Same thing."

I can't help the tiny smile that makes a reappearance on my face, and I see his eyes soften at the sight of it. 

"She's a bitch."

I wince, but nod in agreement much to his surprise. "Yeah. I don't like her."

"You don't like her?" he murmurs, "I didn't think it was possible for you to dislike anybody." 

"I don't like Ralph," I point out.

"That's different. You'd be crazy to like him, Ryan's a motherfu- "

"Ralph, James- "

"-same thing, he's a motherf-"

"Would you like to go home, sweetheart?" Mrs. Dallas pops her head in, completely oblivious to our conversation, "I can call your brother an- "

"No!" I cut her off, "No, no- that's okay, I'll stay for the rest of the day. Thank you."

Thomas would go crazy if he heard something happened. I'd be better off staying at school, dealing with whatever I had to deal with.

Hopefully, I'd be able to handle these few hours.

I sigh.

Oh well.

*****

Cuddled up in layers of blankets, with a cup of steaming hot chocolate, surrounded by snacks and candy, was the perfect way to end a stressful day.

Oh, all that, plus Netflix.

The tiny kitten curled up to me, purring contentedly was a bonus.

All my friends were at a party, right now. Bethany and Elliot had even come over to my place to get ready and I had been all for that, but I had declined going with them because parties like the one that they were going to were really not my scene. They've made me feel claustrophobic in the past - and very often, the alcohol at these parties sometimes led to people making bad decisions.

So, to be honest, I... really wasn't a big fan.

I was an A.C.

Okay, bad joke-

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Beth had said, just before they left, "We won't go if you don't want us to-"

I had waved it off. "You've been looking forward to this. Go on, have your fun! I'll have mine."

"We don't have to go," Elliot had started to say, "We can just stay in with you, and watch movies-"

I had slammed the door shut after that, right in their faces,

Almost immediately, I had opened it again just to get a look at their expressions to which Bethany had said, "You did not just do that."

"I did," I told them, "Watch, I'm going to do it again."

That got them to finally leave, so I could peacefully continue binge watching the detective series that I had started on Netflix. 

And so, when the doorbell rang forty-five minutes later, I was so sure it was one of them because I assumed they had forgotten something. When I open the door however, I'm completely caught off guard.

"James?" 

He straightens a tad bit, and I could see that he was breathing harder than usual, as he pushes the dark hair falling across his forehead back. He wasn't wearing what he had worn to school, but rather- a dark, long-sleeved compression shirt that fit him very well, with dark jeans.

Zoo wee mama.

I'm suddenly very conscious of the fact that I am in my fluffiest pajamas, and because I looked terrible right now.

"You weren't at the party," is all he says, and I don't know if his voice sounds deeper and more hoarse because he was out of breath or because of something else, but I really don't question it.

"Uh," is what comes out of my mouth, before I formulate a sentence that I can verbalize, "I-uh, don't like parties."

"Oh."

"Yeah," I clear my throat, "How um, how did you get here?"

"I ran."

"You ran?" I nearly shriek before realizing how loud that was, when he looks like wants to take a step back because of the outburst. 

"You ran?" I amend, whispering this time- with the same amount of disbelief and incredulity.

He scratches his neck, and though it was almost completely dark outside, I thought I saw the faintest hint of red spread across his cheeks.

"Yes," he says stiffly, clearing his throat.

"But-" my eyes go wide, "But the party is like four miles away!"

It was almost as if I could sense his embarrassment grow, even though I had no idea why he was embarrassed.

He ran that much, just to see why I hadn't come to the party?

"I- " he takes a breath, and I see his chest heave as he takes a step back, "If I'm making you uncomfortable I'll just le- "

"No, no- don't," I take a step forward, and my fingers curl around his arm before I can think much of the action. 

He goes still as he glances down at my hand, but I force myself not to retract it as he looks at me with his gaze head still lowered. 

"You're not making me uncomfortable," I insist, looking at him through my lashes, "I was just completely caught off guard- you ran all the way here and I- I should be getting you a glass of water-"

"Evans," he says firmly, and I stop immediately, "Shut up."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Excuse you-"

One of his hands curl around the hand that was holding on to him, and he pulls me closer till I'm almost flush against him. The other hand, lifts to the side of my neck, and his fingers spread across the side of my face and jaw, almost as if to hold me in place.

I find myself completely frozen, just by the action alone, as his grey eyes- the ones that remind me of storms, flit across my face and then pause when they meet mine. He looks at me intently, so intently, and then,

"Annabeth."

Oh. Oh. 

Not Evans. Annabeth.

I'm suddenly so glad that he had stuck to Evans this whole time, because if this is how he says my name... I don't think I'd be able to handle it.

"Annabeth," he says again, his deep voice low- almost a murmur, and I have to tell my legs very sternly not to give away, "Listen to me."

"So you do know my name," I babble nervously, "I was starting to think-"

His fingers press gently against the side of my neck, and I go quiet as I look up at him.

"What's wrong, hmm?" he says, quietly, and at this point- my heart is just beating out of it's chest, "You've been acting off all day."

"What?" I croak out, trying to focus on what he's saying rather than the position I was in.

"I need you to tell me what's wrong," he says, his eyes flicking between both of mine, "I know something is wrong, and I need to fix it. But I can't. Not unless you tell me. Will you tell me what the matter is?"

I opened my mouth to deny it immediately, before something held me back.

A thought held me back. A thought about communication.

Lack of communication ruins things.

Friendships.

Relationships.

A sports team's win.

Your order at Taco Bell.

My stomach grumbles immediately at the thought but I don't pay it much heed.

He was right. I needed to talk about it. Otherwise he'd never know what was bothering me, and we'd both be stuck in an unhappy position.

So I straighten, as much as I can in his arms anyway, and try to look as unaffected as possible.

"Yes. We need to talk."

last week was my bday week and I was travelling (in my jared era but I feel so old rn wtf) and then I fell sick right after I came back it was such an absolute BRUH moment. also my summer classes started so time to try and be an academic weapon again, pray for me pls. 

Also!! in terms of this book's progress!! chapters are going to be longer going forward, which means it takes me longer to edit them. I'm trying to get a big chunk of them done asap, but if things don't work out the way I want them to I will lyk what I'm doing in these a/ns.

(thank you for reading!! don't forget to vote and comment <3 ) i had to cut a lot of useless content from this chapter and i don't like it v much so i think i might come back and edit it in the future pls tell me if you spot errors i didn't proofread this well enough 

Cassie's bucket list #28: Go to an Italian restaurant dressed as Mario.