I thought Clay would react to my words verbally. However, he didn't. He blushed though and got pretty flustered, changing the topic nervously.

"Can I help you with the.. uhm.. house cleaning?" The way he was so awkward after my words was the most adorable thing ever.

"No, but I guess you can chop some veggies and make a salad for us." I figured that would be a good task to keep him busy with without having to worry about too much physical activity.

"A salad?" He looked disappointed with the menu, but I had enough of constantly ordering unhealthy food.

"You need veggies for a fast recovery." I didn't know how much of it was true, but it felt like the right thing to say. Besides, this was the only way I could convince him to put anything healthy in his mouth.

"Fine.. do I get to make the salad?"

I saw Clay's eyes light up with excitement when I nodded. He probably thought he wasn't allowed to do anything, yet the doctor told me that I should keep him busy with small tasks that don't require a lot of brain or muscle work, so that when he recovers he doesn't have any difficulties going back to his normal lifestyle. But I didn't tell that to Clay, knowing that he'd take things way too close to heart and start to overwork himself.

However, when I brought the ingredients in a bowl with a cutting board and a knife which I put on the living room table infront of him, I started to think that this wasn't a good idea afterall.

"I don't know if I trust you with a knife or not." I spoke honestly.

"Oh c'mon.." he sounded disappointed, "I'm not a child, I'm just concussed."

"Yeah, worse." I was trying to keep him aware of the dangers of his injury.

But I still let him do the job cause first of all he looked very sad when I said no, and second, I was going to be in the same room with him and keep an eye on his actions.

By the time I cleaned the glass pieces from the floor, Clay finished slicing a single cucumber. And he looked so proud of himself, that I couldn't help but smile myself.

Then after a few seconds I noticed that he'd constantly check the time and look out of the window.

"It's getting dark outside." He stated.

"Want me to turn on the lights for you?" It was a bit dark in the room, so I flipped the switch before he could answer.

And he didn't answer my question at all, he had something else in mind to say.

"Do you think Nick's okay?"

I don't know why my mood changed so quickly from the mention of his name, but I had to bite the inside of cheek to not overreact. I mainly blamed myself for everything, yet I couldn't help but be pretty pissed at Nick as well.

Maybe that was the reason the images flashed before my eyes of him treating me the way he did just because I decided to communicate with Clay about the issue. And as if that wasn't enough, he dared to raise a finger on his best friend, knowing damn well that he had a concussion.

Clay still didn't know the half of this. All he knew was that Nick had those dreams about me. And then he found him trapping me against the wall and that's how all of this happened.

"He's an adult." My words were dry and simple.

"He doesn't act like one." Clay shrugged, going back to cutting vegetables.

"I think that's his problem. But I'll talk to George if you're worried." I was playing cold, trying to convince both me and him that I didn't care. But I did care. I cared because not caring wasn't even a realistic option.

I pulled out my phone and called George, not even reading his new texts before doing so. Picking up, the first thing he did was judge and complain as always.

"Is it that hard to send a single text?" I had to quickly lower the incall volume from how loud he was being, "I was worried."

"Why? Didn't you talk to Nick?" I think that was a smart answer for me to come up with. Mainly because I avoided answering his question with too many details but still got away with some type of answer, and I also asked about Nick in the process.

"I did, but he's as clueless as I am." George answered.

"Oh, is he?" I chuckled, "How come?"

"He said he's looking for a house for us and he called both you and Clay but you didn't answer, so he got worried and texted me."

That was the biggest load of bullshit I heard throughout this whole day. And it had a huge competition as well, cause I heard both Nick's words in the morning before he left and I heard the doctor's remarks about me and Clay fucking so hard that he passed out.

"Is he looking for a house on Mars?" I sounded pretty ignorant.

"What do you mean?" George didn't really get the meaning of my words.

"Well he can always come back and check if he's that worried, right?" I sounded so evil continuing the stupid script Nick wrote to get away with the trouble he caused.

The line went silent for a few seconds. I guess George didn't think my words were an option until I stated them.

"What is going on there?" He finally spoke again, "Did you kick him out?"

I don't know that sounded so funny to me, but it did.

"No, what the fuck?" I laughed, avoiding the first question he asked.

"Then what's going on?" George was getting frustrated.

And the next thing I said was just a proof of how petty I could be.

"Nick doesn't like it when I snitch. I'm afraid you have to call him."

Even Clay widened his eyes from my words, while George said "interesting" and hung up shortly after.

"He blamed you for snitching?" Clay was laughing in disbelief, "What is he? Eight?"

"Doesn't even matter anymore." I put my phone aside and got back to cleaning up, "I think if this keeps going, we'll have George here way earlier than a week."