It's been a boring two weeks. I've locked myself up in my room studying music for hours on end every night, trying to memorize a bunch of new songs.

I'm sure my family is sick of hearing the same five pieces over and over again on loop, but I keep bringing up the excuse that I have college auditions coming up scarily soon.

I stayed in on Halloween just like I had the past few years, not feeling in the mood for a party no matter how many times Jasmine begged me.

Our French quizzes were returned and to our teacher's disgust, half the class failed. I got a ninety-seven which is pretty good I suppose, but Bryce was quick to mock me for it, asking me, "What happened to that last three percent?"

He then laughed as I narrowed my eyes at him, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as we headed to class together.

Bryce has been driving me to school every morning that Charlie has early soccer practices, which I greatly appreciate because it means that I don't end up showing up at school way earlier than I need to be there for.

He's back to driving the red truck per usual, and when I asked him why he seemed to favour this truck over the more expensive cars that his father has purchased, he told me, "Why the hell would I trust these sleep-deprived teenagers to park near a nice car when there's a great possibility in someone hitting it?"

I told him that he had too little faith in our peers, and he told me that he was being completely reasonable.

My birthday has finally came around, and I still have no plans for the evening.

I'm currently sifting through my locker, trying to find the spare package of pencils I could have sworn I tossed in here at the beginning of the year just as I feel someone walk up behind me.

A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, and when I catch a swirl of black ink peeking out from under the the hem of the sleeve of a dark denim jacket, I immediately know who it is.

"Happy birthday," Bryce's warm voice whispers in my ear, and I turn around to find him smiling at me.

"Thanks," I say as he kisses me on the top of the head, and I feel myself blush, quickly spinning back around to slam the locker door shut and conceal the rosy colour of my cheeks.

"Can I be invited to your wedding?" I hear Jordan ask us, walking up and leaning against the wall beside my face.

Bryce snorts, taking a step to the side and toying with the combination lock of his locker before the door swings open. He pulls his jacket off, tossing it inside before turning back to Jordan.

"We're not getting married, but if we were, you most certainly would not be invited," Bryce answers, and Jordan gets a funny smile on his face.

I interject. "But he's my friend, and doesn't my opinion matter too?" I ask, and Bryce takes this into consideration for a moment, before nodding at me.

"Yeah, but can't you just make other friends? Jordan would probably just whine about how cheap the champagne tastes all night," he continues to argue, and I laugh at how seriously he's thinking about this.

"Screw you, Punkass," Jordan huffs, and Bryce laughs at him.

"Punkass?" he questions. "Is that my new nickname? You used it on the weekend to."

Jordan nods at him, just as Jasmine pops up behind Jordan.

"Wedding? Can I be the maid of honour?" she asks, and I'm even more confused as of to why the three of them seem to be thinking so deeply about this.

"I'm not getting married anytime soon, so that's going to have to be a no," I tell her, and she laughs, grabbing Jordan's smoothie right out of his hands and taking a sip of it. He promptly snatches it back from her, and she gives him an innocent smile.

Bryce is about to shut his locker, but before he can, I pull the jacket out from where he had placed it. He quirks an eyebrow up at me, but than has a knowing look when I nearly fold the coat, then tucking it back inside.

He closes the door, picking his cup of coffee up from the top of the locker complex where he had left it.

"See? You're literally addicted to that stuff," I tell him, and he takes a sip, his eyes entertained and twinkling with delight.

"You talk about caffeine as if it's crack cocaine, Blossom," he says to me, and I crinkle my nose at him.

"Please tell me you haven't done cocaine," I question, my mind spiralling just thinking about the group of people he seems like he would hang out with.

It doesn't make sense that he likes to spend time with me as I'm just so boring and plain while he's seemingly always ready for adventure.

"Nah. I mean, I don't really do that shit. I've only smoked weed a handful of times, and apart from that all, I've taken is Xanax," he says casually and I'm now gaping at him.

Even though I've heard stories about kids at our school doing drugs, I never believed them. It's hard to picture Bryce drunk or high or whatever and I'm honestly a little mad at him for doing all of these things; first smoking cigarettes, now this.

He notices my pained expression and his brows furrow at me.

"Please don't hate me," he begs quietly, and for some reason his soft words make my heart lurch in my chest.

"I don't," I promise him, recognizing how judgemental I'm acting right now. It's not fair for me to get mad over things he's done in the past when he could've changed since then.

And even if he hasn't changed, I don't have the right to get irritated with him over these things.

He smiles at me, and he looks like he wants to say something else, explain himself perhaps, but he's quiet for too long. It gives Jordan the opportunity to jump in, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

"Let's take a breather there, lovebirds," he chimes, and I look up to glare at him.

I give him a warning look, really not wanting to put up with this teasing right now.

That's when Camila walks into the hallway, and her face lights up when she sees Bryce. He smiles at her when their eyes meet, and I feel the need to look away as she walks over to him.

"Hey, Bryce," she chirps when she's standing in front of him, and he nods at her.

I admire how positive and energetic she constantly seems, but I'm vaguely jealous that she's stealing Bryce's attention right now.

"Are you busy tonight?" she asks him, and before answering he looks to Jordan and I quickly, before leaning down to whisper something in her ear.

Her face shifts neutral for a moment before she nods at him, asking, "Another time then?" to he nods in reply before she walks away.

He then turns back to Jordan and I, and when he sees my face his expression seems to shift. I know that I look unamused, but even so, the way he takes this conversation is uncalled for.

"What? So you're allowed to kiss Mateo right in front of my face but I can't even speak to Cam without you looking at me like I have two heads?" he prods, and I feel my eyes widen at him instantly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say quietly, not speaking about that kiss but rather why it would be an issue.

Though truthfully, I know exactly what he's getting at.

For some reason, we both seem to get oddly jealous. There's no reason why it happens, but it does. Whether we'd like to admit it or not, we have a sort of connection that's hard to explain, but it's still undeniably present.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," he says, his delivery softer this time.

Jordan's arm around my shoulder slacks away and he takes a step back to stare at both of us. "Am I missing something?" he asks, and Bryce gives him a warning look.

I nod at him though, saying, "Yeah, you are. But I think I'm missing something as well."

Bryce blinks slowly at me, and I give him a bittersweet smile before grabbing Jordan's arm and attempting to drag him away with me.

Since Jasmine is nowhere to be found, he either leaves with me or stays in the halls with Bryce, so he easily chooses the former and we head down the halls to class without Bryce, even though I'm well aware that his first class of the day is with me.

"Blossom, wait," Bryce pleas, and I feel his footsteps pounding against the polished floor before he reaches for my hand.

I quickly pull away, but when I spin around his eyes are worried and sad rather than angered.

"I'm kind of getting the vibe she doesn't want to talk to you," Jordan jumps in, and though I'm thankful for him I don't need his help right now.

"And I'm going to have to ask you to kindly shut the fuck up," Bryce replies, and just like that Jordan throws his hands up in the air in surrender, backing away down the stairs.

Bryce is smiling though so I know he's just joking around, and when he turns to me with an apology in his eyes, I succumb to the hug he pulls me into.

I'm short enough that my head falls right to his chest, and when he brushes his fingers through my hair I feel butterflies in my stomach.

"I don't know what I was saying back there," he whispers and I nod at him when he pulls away from me, keeping his hands planted firmly on my shoulders.

My skin tingles as Bryce traces a finger across the side of my jaw.

"It's fine," I tell him, and he quickly shakes his head at me.

"No it's not. Just forget what I said. I really don't know what I'm talking about," he says in a rush, and all I can do is blink at him, confused about how strange he's acting this morning.

"What's on your mind?" I ask him, and he takes a deep breath.

I take his hand in mine, giving it a squeeze, and he answers me.

"It's just strange to think about because today marks four years since we had seen each other apart from the past month," he says quietly, and it's weird to think about it from the perspective.

And then it just gets weirder when I think a little harder about what exactly we were up to that day.

Bryce cups my cheek in his, cradling the delicate skin as if it's something precious that must be protected, and I feel myself blushing profoundly.

"Bryce, what are you do—"

I'm silenced as he cuts me off by planting a quick, tender kiss on my lips.

I freeze up in shock, and Bryce pulls back, lowering his lips to my ear.

"Yeah, that's kind of crazy to think about," I gulp, and he nods at me, both of us lost in thought as we're standing in the middle of a busy hallway only a few inches apart.

His lips are so close, the same lips that I had kissed so long ago. The thought is turning my brain to mush, and I feel my heartbeat growing faster.

"Happy birthday, Lex," Mateo says, appearing beside me all of a sudden.

I really hope he had just gotten here and didn't see any of what just happened or else I would feel the urge to bury my face in my hands and hide.

Things have been awkward between Mateo and I ever since the weekend getaway to the cottage, to say the least. We haven't spoken much, and though he'd often text me on the weekends and ask me if I wanted to hang out, I haven't heard anything from him recently.

"Thanks, Matt," I respond, giving him a small smile, and he nods at me, beaming now.

Bryce's fingertips have since dropped from my cheek, and now he's using his hands to push up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his forearms. Mateo glances at the tattoos with disapproval, but then quickly averts his vision and walks away from us without another word.

"I think I'm going to get another tattoo done," Bryce tells me, before he reaches for my hand, wrapping his fingers firmly around mine and directing me downstairs to where our class is.

"Is your dad okay with that?" I ask him, and he nods at me.

"Yeah. He has to sign off for all my tattoos because I'm still only seventeen. He's the best, and he let's me do whatever the hell I want, within reason of course. He's been pissed at me for smoking and he's thrilled that I promised you I'd stop," he explains, and I look to where my hand is still in his.

"By the way," he continues, "how are things going between you and your mom?"

"She hasn't been around much this week, but it's been going pretty good. She hasn't had any reason to get frustrated with me and I haven't started anything so it's all been okay," I explain to him, and he smiles at my answer.

"I'm glad to hear," he tells me, and I return his smile.

When we reach the door to the music room, it's still locked, showing that Ms. Johnson isn't in the classroom yet, and we join the group of other kids waiting impatiently outside.

Bryce sits down on the floor, leaning against the wall and patting the spot next to him.

"I'm not sitting on the filthy floor," I tell him, and he laughs in my face.

"Jordan was right. You are a princess," he mocks.

When I continue to give him a dumbfounded look, he gets a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What? Would you rather sit in my lap instead? Because I'm totally in favour of that," he says, and I bite down on my lip, turning away and ignoring him.

He chuckles, standing up and then walking in through the door which is now opened wide, most of the students already inside the room.

"Hurry up," Bryce says to me, pretending to check a watch on his wrist that isn't even there. I roll my eyes at him, stepping past his figure and into the classroom.

🌸🌸🌸

"How was your day?" my mother asks me as we all sit down for dinner.

She sounds genuine as she cuts off a bite of the lasagna my dad had cooked, so I smile at her.

"Pretty good," I answer, putting aside the odd start to my morning.

Bryce's mood lifted significantly which put me at ease. Maybe I'll call him after dinner to see what's really going on.

I notice how Charlie is eating unusually quickly, and then to my surprise he stands up from the table, walking over to the counter and setting his plate down.

"I have to head out," he says, more towards my parents than me.

They nod at him knowingly, but I cut in, asking, "Where are you off to?"

He turns to me and answers, "No where important," before walking straight out of the room.

"That was strange," I comment, and my parents just smile at me. I'm not sure why my mother is in such a good mood tonight, but I'm certainly not complaining.

"Are you finished eating?" my dad questions, glancing at my empty plate, and I nod at him before standing up and setting my plate down on the counter next to Charlie's.

When I look back up to my parents I find my mother texting on her phone and my dad watching what she's doing over one of her shoulders.

"Um, would you like me to do the dishes?" I ask, and my dad quickly looks up at me.

"No, of course not, honey. It's your birthday, so you can just leave it there," he tells me, and I nod, before excusing myself from the room and heading upstairs.

I do catch a glimpse of my parents' conversation though before I leave.

"Things seem to feel less tense between you two," he comments, and I hear my mother sigh.

"I feel so terrible about acting this way around her," she begins. "I just can't help myself from thinking about it whenever she's around," she continues, and I hear a small sniffle.

"Please don't cry, Kate," my dad says to her, and there's silence for a moment before she responds, saying, "I love you, John. Thank you for everything."

There's the sound of a glass clinking against the counter as if it were being set down, and then more quiet before my dad says, "I love you too, darling. And I promise I'll keep you safe from now on. I'm sorry I couldn't before."

This is followed by the faint sound of sobbing and I scurry away as quietly as I can, praying that they don't hear me and realize that I heard their exchange.

When I reach my room, I grab my backpack off the floor, pulling out my math textbook so I can finish up some homework before my phone begins ringing from my pocket.

Can I not catch a break today? I have to ask myself as I grab my phone, dropping the pencil that was just in my hand. When I spot that the call is from Bryce, I take it as a sign seeing as I was considering calling him later anyway, so I pick up the phone, sliding across the screen to accept the call.

"I'll be there in fifteen," he says to me before I can even say hello.

"What?"

"I'm going to be at your house in fifteen minutes," he seems to clarify, but I'm still left confused as of to why he'd be coming here in the first place.

"Wait, why are you coming?" I ask, but I quickly realize that he's already hung up the phone so I'm essentially just talking to myself.

He's being so distant today and it's confusing me to an extreme, seeing as all I want is to have a legitimate conversation with him. But of course, he's being his typical self and never making any sense, so I shut my textbook, leaning back in my desk chair and letting out an exaggerated huff.

I pick up my phone, sending a short text to Bryce.

I wait patiently for a minute or so before I get Bryce's response.

Giving up on having a decent conversation with him, I set my phone down on my desk, then resting my forehead against the cool surface.

I don't get why he's being so secretive.

I raise my head, glancing at myself in the small mirror before picking up my hairbrush and running it through my long hair. I decide to braid the brunette locks over one shoulder, then putting a coat of chapstick on my lips.

It's getting chillier by the day as winter seems to be getting nearer and nearer, so I head to my closet, grabbing a grey sweatshirt and pulling it over top of the shirt I'm wearing right now.

That's when I pull the blinds open to reveal Bryce's truck pulling up along the side of the street.

I sigh, but reluctantly I throw my phone in my pocket, heading downstairs.

The doorbell rings and seeing as the stairs open right up in front of the door, I get there before my parents can.

"I'm heading out apparently," I tell my dad when he appears in the doorway of the dining room. He nods at me, and so I turn around to open up the door.

I find Bryce standing at the doorstep with his hands in his pockets, smiling at me.

I step out into the cold, shutting the door behind me and quickly hearing the sound of the lock clicking.

"Where are you taking me?" I question, as Bryce takes my hand, leading me down the steps and towards his car.

"I'm taking you somewhere to murder you. And I have a guy who's coming to pick up the body at seven-ish so I'd really appreciate if you'd hurry up so that I'm not late with the drop off," he tells me.

My eyes widen at him, and when he sees my shock he laughs at me, tapping me on the nose before opening up the door for me. I climb into the seat and he closes the door for me.