I wake up still in my truck with Layne still in my lap, resting peacefully with her head against my chest.

There's a knock on my window and I jump. It's Dillion. I move my hand from her ass and roll down my window.

"Strictly platonic?" he smirks. I roll my window up in response.

"Get up," I shake Layne, "Layne."

She awakens slowly a lot less confused than I was to wake up in a car. Noticing she'd spent the whole night in my arms she smiles, "Morning."

"Morning. Get the fuck out my car," I state. She smiles even harder, "Sure thing."

"Could y'all hurry this shit up? I need out the drive way," Dil taps on the window again and Layne sticks her tongue out at him before untangling herself from me and exiting the car. With Layne gone I start my truck and drive home. I check the clock. I'm definitely an hour late for work.

***

"KJ!" Chess catches me serving, having snuck in to work through the back and clocked in unnoticed, "A word?"

I deliver the food to the appropriate table and follow Chess out the back.

"Where were you, Parker? You're at least ninety minutes late! Is that okay for you?" Chess runs a frustrated hand through his hair, "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I'm sorry, Chess. I got caught up in something last night and woke up late."

"Well... Since you're a pretty solid employee," He sighs, "I'll let you off the hook this time. But promise me this won't happen again."

"It won't happen again. I swear it."

"Good. Now get back to work."

As punishment I'm forced to wash dishes the entire shift, which in all honesty I don't mind, as it gives me time to relax my mind. I wish life was as simple as washing dishes. You've got soapy water, rinse water and sanitize water before you send it through the dish machine. If only there was only three parts to life. Instead there's the whole shit load of parts of life and none of them make sense.

In no rush to get home, I stay an hour to make up for being so tardy this morning, and then finally head home. When I get there, Layne is perched on my stoop, clearly waiting for me. She stands when she notices me and I swing my truck around the back as Layne follows behind me.

I turn and take her in, dressed in overalls and a t-shirt, she's clearly been outside a minute. Maybe even an hour, at the time I should've gotten off.

"Hey, how was your day?"

"What happened last night can't happen again," I say immediately.

Her face flashes with hurt and it shows in her voice, "You don't want me to kiss you anymore?"

"No. I don't."

"Why? Did you not like it?" she pries. Honestly, I had hoped my opening statement would've been enough for her to have just ran off crying by now. But nope.

I hesitate, "That's not it---"

"So then you did like it?"

"I didn't say that!" I snap, "I was impartial to it. But either way it isn't happening again alright?"

"Okay don't get you panties all in a twist. No more kissing. Got it!" she smiles and heads back down to her house.

I watch her get inside safely, then turn to head inside myself.

"Look who finally returned," my dad waits for me at the door, "Car keys. Now."

"I can explain---"

"I didn't ask you for an explanation. Now keys," I drop them into his hand. "For the next week--- School, work, and church only okay?"

"Yes sir," I yawn, the fight not in me.

I shower for what feels like years, imagining the days troubles like that water flowing down my back. When I've succeeded in emptying our water tank I get out and change into my usual sleep attire of basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Collapsing into an exhaustion induced sleep I used the remaining strength I have to cover myself with a blanket, as protection.

The demons under my bed won't get me this time. I swear 

***

I sit in the back of Dil's car, uncomfortable. With no truck, I was back at the mercy of other when trying to find a ride. This morning, Nat picked up Beck and I, but of course she wasn't going to drive me to NCT. 

"You good back there?" Dil asks.

"Yeah," I reply, pulling in my headphones in order to tune out Dil's music. I look up from my phone and catch Layne watching me from the rearview mirror.

"Stop it," I mumble, and she goes back to staring out the window.

"Did something happen between you guys?" Dil questions. Layne and I both answer at the same time.

"No."

"Yes."

I look up and we make eye contact, locking into a hard stare.

"Okay then. Anybody hungry?" He pulls into a Qdoba parking lot and we all exit the car, heading inside. Layne lingers, grabbing my arm.

"Just because you didn't like doesn't mean it didn't happen," she whispers, "Like damn. You act like I did something wrong?"

"You didn't have consent to kiss me," I respond.

"I did when you started kissing me back," she smirks, "What's going on with you?"

"You!" I hiss, "You're making just about every aspect of my existence harder. Because of you Graves is up my ass, Wren is back, and now I don't have my truck. So sorry if I don't want to play your games, Sinclair."

I start to head inside, but she grabs me, pulling me back, "We aren't done talking about this."

"I am," I yank away from her. I purchase my food and stand with Dil, waiting with him for Layne.

"Do I want to know?" He asks me. I shake my head.

When everyone is done we get back in the car, the rest of the drive quiet except for the radio.

***

"Everyone start your jobs!"

Its the end of a particularly long class when Nik approaches me with Lori behind her.

"What's up?" I take a step back, as they're standing way to close. Whenever someone is that close I have questions.

"Did you have fun at the party?" Nik offers, "It was lit right?"

"Yeah it was fun," I nod, "What are y'all really asking me though?"

Each of them picks a shoulder to lean on and collectively turn so that we're facing in Layne's direction, where she and Wren are deep in whispering, "So you and Layne...?"

"What about it?" I ask cautiously...

"What y'all do after the party, bih leaving early as shit and stuff?" Lori, less than gracefully, interjects.

"I had work the next morning so I shook. Wren looked too drunk to drive so Layne had me drive her, too. Now is y'all gonna mind your business or...?"

"Okay, KJ," Nik gives me a skeptical look and they both back off.

I head over to the job board, seeing that I'm on dishes with none other than Wren. I exhale and head over there, determined to get this over as fast as possible.

"What's going on with you and Layne?" the Sociopath asks, handing me a plate to scrub. Really? This again?

I do a mock look around, as if I'm going to say something scandalous, noticing Layne on the other side of the kitchen doing her job.

"C'mere," Wren leans in and I shout, "Nothing!" She flinches away from me, "We're just friends."

She stops and looks at me, "Why'd you drive her home Friday?"

"She asked because you were too drunk," I shot back.

She gives me a puzzled look, "I don't drink, KJ. My mom would kill me."

"That's what Layne said. It was late and I didn't question it. I just wanted to go home."

"Well however you feel, Layne likes you," she returns to washing dishes, "And you like her back by the way."

Why the hell can't y'all leave me alone. I sanitize the dish and hang it to dry, "What do you know? You're basically a crazy person."

"You aren't a good actor," she says, "The whole class knows you like her."

"I don't like girls," I state for what feels like the millionth time.

She scoffs, "You're as straight as the STL skyline. Stop lyin'."

I fish a knife from the sink and wipe it with a towel, "What makes everybody so damn sure that I'm gay?!"

In cleaning the knife, I slice right through the towel I am holding and, "Argh!"

I drop the knife back into the water, both of us staring at the fresh blood welling up from the gnash running across it, the water turning red from it.

"Parker!" Graves happens to pass by at that moment, "What did you do Wren? Finally get sick of her and stab her?"

Wren chuckles and I run my hand under the handwash sink, wrapping it in a bunch of paper towels, "Don't mind me. Just bleeding to death."

"Take drama queen over here to the nurse," Graves says, "I have a strong feeling you won't need a pass." On the way down to the office we're quiet, until we're face to face at the threshold.

"I'm not saying you're gay," she looks up at me, "But you look at her the same way you looked at me. And I think that means something."

I remain silent as she turns and heads back to class.

Seeing as there's a whopping gash in my hand, I'm allowed to leave class early, leaving Layne to find another ride home. The wound is superficial enough I won't need stitches but also my left hand is definitely out of commission for the time being. To be safe, I call off from the JOINT for the week, letting Chess know I'm okay. Once I'm home I take a mix of pain killers and sleep aids, less concerned about waking up ever again and more concerned about the pain in my hand, head, and everywhere else in my life.

***

I wake up dazed and confused with Layne in my arms. Wait, what the fuck?

I shoot up in bed, disturbing the girl in my arms. I groan, the sudden action giving me a headache. Fuck.

"KJ are you okay?" Layne questions.

"What are you doing here?" I mumble, "How did you get in here?"

"You let me in?" Layne asks, "Wait? You don't remember what we were talking about?"

I attempt to recall events after me popping a pharmaceutical death wish worth of pills, but my minds blank, "Nope. Wait what were we talking about?"

"Its not important," she dodges the question, "How's your hand?"

"Slashed open," I reply with a dry laugh, throwing myself back onto my bed. She frowns. "Its fine I swear it. It'll heal."

"You have a really dark sense of humor," she relaxes back into my arms, "You worry me."

"Get in line. I worry everybody," Its my turn to change the subject, "How's your mom?"

"Still dying," she shrugs, "She's thinking about sending me back to public school. It's too much to monitor my homeschooling and her health at the same time. She wishes you'd come over more, too."

"Me?" The idea of anyone ever missing me is so far out I don't actually comprehend it. Like ever.

"Yeah, you. She says you're stealing her daughter from her. Dil likes you, too. He thinks you're funny."

"Really? I thought I was an asshole?" I tease.

"You are. You're just a funny asshole," she sits up, looking me in my eyes, "But also I've said I wanted to fuck you. So do you just pick and choose what you hear or...?"

She leans in and I use my uninjured hand to push her face away, "Nice try, Sinclair. Still not gay, though."

She rolls her eyes, "Go back to bed. You must still think you're dreaming."

I take another pain pill for my hand and we go back to laying in silence.