I heard Roman calling after me, but I didn't stop.

He had to understand, right? He knows the drill, after all. Boys who look like Roman, they know the drill. A kiss is a kiss, nothing more and nothing less. He'd get over it.

Once the elevator doors opened, I rushed into the lobby of Roman's building. I was regretting not taking his offer to shower while I was there, because my hair was still a tangled mess, and my makeup was still smeared across my face. I ran quickly across the marble floors, eager to be on the city streets, where there was much worse than the likes of me running around.

I breathed the city air as I pushed through the doors, ignoring the glare from the doorman. I took a minute to use my mental navigational system, before turning right and walking quickly down the crowded street. I was right, no one seemed to spare me a second glance. They were almost certainly judging me inside their heads, soaking in my unkept appearance from the safety of their peripheral vision, but they had the tact to ignore me. I kept my head steady, however. I was running over the possibilities of what Khalil could possibly want in my head.

Did this have something to do with the article? Was there more information that was released and Jesse was keeping it from me? That Brett was keeping from Clara? There's no way Clara knew something about this that I didn't. She would have told me, instantly.

Whatever it was, it was obvious that Khalil did not want Jesse knowing what it was. That realization made me think back to their seemingly harmless drift apart, and suddenly it didn't seem so harmless anymore. What could Khalil know that Jesse didn't? And why would he want me to know, and not Jesse?

I felt hope flair in my stomach this time. I felt hope because maybe whatever Khalil was about to tell me, could save me and Clara from their blackmail. That would be the best outcome, but it made no sense. Like I've said before, Khalil and I were never friends. Khalil and Clara slept together a couple of times, but they weren't friends either, as far as I knew.

As I arrived at the corner that Khalil told me to meet him at, I glanced around, looking for any sign of him, or his car. Khalil's car was special, just like all the other rich kids that went to my school. They all had foreign cars that cost more than a teacher's yearly salary. Khalil was no different, and his blacked-out Range Rover stood out among the seas of midsized sedans. I could see it now, travelling towards me. I waited, not wanting to wave my arm to him. I watched as he pulled his car into an empty parking lot, and then he ran over to me.

Khalil looked the same as he did when he came to my house the other day. His face was hollow, he looked like he hadn't slept. He didn't smell of alcohol this time, however, which was an improvement all on its own.

"Lilly, you came," he told me as he reached me. He stopped in front of me, before looking around. I wasn't sure was he was looking, but he shook his head in frustration, letting me know that whatever it was, he didn't find it. He placed his hands on my shoulders instead, pulling me against the wall with him.

"What's going on?" I asked him, shrugging away from him. He didn't remove his hands, though, he kept them locked on me.

"Did you read the article I left for you?" He asked me, his words rushed like they were on the phone.

"I looked at it," I told him, omitting the fact that I didn't completely read it.

"Lilly, did you read it all?" Khalil asked, as he gently shook my shoulders.

"Not all of it, no..." I said quietly. "I knew what it was about, Khalil, I remember what happened just as much as you do."

"There's something..." Khalil started, but he stopped speaking when he heard the same thing I did. Hip hop music so loud you could feel the vibrations of the bass in the concrete beneath our feet stole both of our attention, and we both turned towards the line of traffic, trying to find the source.

"Fuck," Khalil spit out, letting go of my shoulders. "Fuck, you told him?"

"What?" I asked, not understanding. "Told who?"

"Jesse!" Khalil stepped away from me, wringing his hands.

"I didn't tell him, Khalil," I muttered, though I wondered why I had to. I looked back towards the traffic, hoping to see something that would explain Khalil's words. It didn't take me long before I spotted Jesse's car, heading straight towards us.

"I have to go," Khalil said, and he was already walking towards his car.

"Wait, Khalil! What's going on? Tell me, please," I called after him, taking a few steps in his direction.

Khalil looked between me and his car, like he was debating on what decision to make. I knew the answer when he continued towards his car, but not before he called to me a final time.

"Just... break up with Jesse, Lilly. Okay? And read that article!" He told me at the same time he got into his car. It was only a second longer before he sped off, in the opposite direction of Jesse.

I sighed as I watched him leave, his words tumbling around in my brain like they were rocks and I was trying to get them to sparkle. This didn't make any sense, none of it did. I looked back towards Jesse's car, the volume of the music was increasing, letting me know he was getting closer. I debated on leaving, running away as fast as I could. Yet, as I looked at the crowded sidewalk, I realized I wouldn't get far enough fast enough.

I was right, it seemed, because only a second later, Jesse had pulled up beside me. His window was rolled down, and his elbow was leaning out of the car, into the city air.

"Get in," Jesse told me, and I was surprised to find no hint of shock in his voice. I looked around me, wondering what chance I had to book it. Once I came to the conclusion that I had zero chance, I walked around Jesse's car, and slid into his passenger seat.

"I'm not even going to ask for explanation, Lilly, because I know you don't have a good one," Jesse told me, once my seatbelt was fastened. He was staring over the steering wheel, his jaw tensed.

"I..." I started, not knowing what I was about to say. I guess it didn't matter, because Jesse cut me off.

"I said I don't want to hear it!" Jesse yelled, causing me to flinch and shrink backwards, against my seat.

"We're going to go to my house. You're going to change into the dress I bought you, you're going to do your makeup the way I like it, and we're going to go to Polly's party. Okay?" Jesse said tensely, and I was scared to use my voice to answer him.

"You can talk now," Jesse muttered, still not looking over to me.

"Okay," I said quietly. It's not like I had a choice, did I?

Four hours later, and I looked like a new Lilac. I was almost complete unrecognizable from the messy girl that had made bad choices today. My hair was washed and perfectly curled. My nails were painted red, the same shade of red that coloured my lips. And much to my dismay, I was wearing a purple dress. It was a deep purple, the colour that blackberries make when they're stepped on, and the juices spread and stain.

Jesse didn't say anything as he ran his eyes up and down me, and I was glad he didn't. It didn't matter if he gave me a compliment or an insult, they're one and the same now.

He was chatty as he drove us to the party, like he had forgotten this morning had happened. I was full of questions, of course. Like how he found me, was it a coincidence? Why he didn't demand to know where I was, why he didn't question me into exhaustion? In fact, he hadn't said a single thing about it.

He kept his arm around my neck as he led me into Polly's house. Her house was a Spanish architecture inspired mansion, but even though the square footage seemed endless, it was still packed with teenagers. I didn't recognize most of the people there as we pushed through the doors, and I quickly realized this wasn't like most parties that we went to. The parties we usually attended consisted of a select group of people. There was nothing select about this one, it seemed like the whole school was here.

Jesse dropped his arm from me once we were in the entrance way. He leaned into me, grabbing my wrist and holding me in place. I had to bite my lip to fight the frown at his proximity to me.

"I'm going to get a drink. Go find Clara, but listen, Lilly. You need to be good, okay?" Jesse whispered into my ear, his grip tightening so harshly that I feared he might snap my bone in two. The pain only lasted a second, however, before he left me standing alone, without another word.

I looked around, debating on which way to begin on my mission to find Clara. I didn't get very far, however, because an arm snaked around my waist, pulling me backwards into another room. Once I was inside completely, whoever had taken me slammed the door shut.

"Lilac," Roman said smugly, causing me to groan. I turned around to find him, noting that we seemed to be inside some sort of library, the books all looked neglected and untouched. Rich people, I mentally shook my head.

Roman moved closer to me, wrapping his arm around my waist once more.

"What happened this morning?" Roman asked me, and he didn't sound mad or hurt like I expected him to be. He simply sounded curious.

"A mistake, I told you," I said, ignoring the butterflies that erupted inside me, just from his simple touch.

"You said no games." Roman whispered to me, his hand increased pressure around my waist.

I turned to him, wishing I could tell him the truth. I couldn't though, I'm not sure if I can remember what the truths even are anymore.

I pulled my body away from his, his hand gently slipped away, he wasn't trying to hold on to me this time.

"I lied," I shrugged, and I turned around. I opened the door and walked away, fighting my body with every step. My body wanted me to run right back to Roman, and keep those doors closed.

It's me, after all. Lilac, and what do I do best? I lie.