Prying open my locker, I shove the my books into any opening I can find. I'm usually a very organized person, but this morning was a shit-show.

Not only did I forget to set my alarm, but Grayson didn't even bother waking me up. Instead, I was awoken by Violet barging into his room and pulling me off of the futon. Apparently, Grayson left without us (which his parents ordered that he take us to school with him every morning) and if I didn't rush to get ready, we would have missed the buss.

Even now, after sixth period has just ended, I feel as groggy as ever... and I look the part too. When I say that the bags under my eyes are worse than the wrinkles in my sweatpants, I mean it.

Glancing into the magnetic mirror that hangs on the inside of my locker, I wince at my reflection. My messy bun isn't the cute kind, and I even have a bit of toothpaste crust on my mouth that no one told me about. Lovely.

As I wipe it away, I look around me a the empty hallways. Our teacher dismissed class early after everyone completed their tests. In about ten minutes, the corridor would be flooded with people trying to get to their last class of the day.

Grabbing my math books, I shut my locker.

Getting to class early might be a good idea. It could give me time to scribble down some answers on the homework I failed to complete last night. Better something, rather than nothing.

As I start down the hallway, I notice Amelia and Nina hanging out by their lockers. However, the posse isn't complete without Josh. I wonder where he could be, if not with the cult.

Pulling out my phone, I pretend to be swiping through texts as I pass the two girls. If I look preoccupied, maybe they won't try bothering—

I shrill as cold liquid splatters onto my neck and down the front of my shirt. Nearly dropping my books, I take a few steps backward trying to catch my balance. Ice cubes clatter to the floor and a Starbucks cup with them.

I'm at a loss of words.

Glancing down at my grey shirt, it's covered in cold, brown coffee. When I look up, I see none other than the third member, Josh. He stares at me with a bit of shock.

"I'm sorry— I wasn't looking where I was going..." he explains.

"You expect me to believe that?" My voice cracks. Nothing good ever comes my way when it involves Amelia and her friends. As if my day wasn't crappy to begin with, now this happens?

"Aww, do you need me to help you change your clothes again?" Amelia cackles, her back leaning against a locker. Bringing up the night of the party so casually like that sends shivers down my spine. Grayson and I decided to forget about it... and I've been trying.

My throat begins to close up, my anxiety crawling up from the pit of my stomach. The bell is going to ring any moment now... and being seen like this would be extremely embarrassing. Maybe if I text Violet, she'll have an extra set of clothing in her locker. But would she see my text in time?

"I think the look suits her," Nina chuckles, and I watch as Amelia gives her an irritated look... as if she's the only one whose allowed to be mean.

My grip tightens around my books. What am I going to do? If I go to the restroom and try to wash out the coffee, the stain is still going to be noticeable no matter what. I already look messy enough as it is...

And just like that, the bell rattles throughout the hallway. I'm certain that I look like a deer caught in headlights right now.

Just before a wave of students start swarming the corridor, someone comes up from behind me. Grabbing my arm, they pull me towards them. I catch a glance of blonde hair before hearing the creak of a door open. One moment I'm standing in front of Satan's pawns, and the next I'm being pulled into a janitors closet.

My heart begins to pound and I almost confuse the barrage of footsteps outside the door as the beating in my chest. The room is pitch black. With my eyes unable to adjust to the darkness, I begin to freak out a little bit.

"Why am I in here? Wh-" I choke on my own words. "Whats going on?"

"I'm sorry," a familiar voice breaks into the air. My heart does a little skip. Where have I heard it before? If only I could see their face...

We're so close to each other in this tiny closet, I can feel his breath on my skin. "I didn't mean to scare you. I saw what happened and I could tell by the look on your face that you wanted to get out of the situation."

With my eyes adjusting to the darkness, I begin to see the outline of the boy standing in front of me. We're inches apart and I still can't identify who it is exactly.

The ground beneath us rumbles as students push through the hallways.

Before I have a chance to say anything, he speaks up again.

"Do you want my sweatshirt?"

For a minute, I forgot that my shirt was even soaked. After rubbing my eyes a bit too aggressively, I'm able to figure out who it is.

"Justin?" I ask, squinting my eyes.

He's one of the boys who was on the opposing team in the mini football game we played a few weeks back. Although, I know him more so from frequently seeing him around Grayson. A lot of times whenever I visited Violet, he was visiting Grayson. They practically grew up with each other, the same as Violet and I did.

He's Grayson's bestfriend.

"Yeah?" He says, as if I was asking him a question.

My heart begins to calm down, now that I know the person that has my back pressed against the closet door. Justin has always been one of the more kind and easy-going friends of Grayson. Not to mention his goofiness is more pure than Grayson's teasing.

While I know that his hair is blonde, it appears brown in the dark. As I stare up at him, it just now occurs to me that our faces are much closer than I realized. For a long moment, it feels like we're searching each others face, trying to find the others eyes.

Before I can say anything, he begins pulling his sweatshirt over his head. As he stretches the fabric upward, his undershirt gets tugged with it. For a brief moment, his stomach is exposed, and even in the dim room, I can see the outline of his abs. After he successfully yanks his sweatshirt off, his shirt falls back down— and I realize that I've been staring.

"Take it." He hands it to me. With my free hand that isn't occupied with books, I hold it.

Squinting at it, I wonder why I'm able to see it much more easily than anything else in the room. After a few seconds of thought, I notice that it's white. It's his football sweatshirt, one that every player receives for being on the varsity team. It has our school logo on it in black along with a football graphic.

Grayson has one, too.

"It's white..." I say. "I cant, or else it will get stained."

Our hands are touching as we both hold the piece of clothing, undecided as to who will take it.

He doesn't even hesitate. "I don't mind."

A small air vent that is hidden above us suddenly cranks on. Bitter air begins to fill the tiny room like water does to a fish tank. My wet neck and torso begin to rapidly grow colder and colder. It eventually gets to the point where the hair on my skin begins to stand up. Gritting my teeth, I feel a shiver about to happen.

"Well, I do. I'm not going to be the one to ruin your sweatshirt." I decide.

"Come on, Madison. You're freezing." His voice is low, serious.

Despite all the frigidness of this tiny room, my cheeks begin to heat up. His kindness overwhelms me, causing me to grow flustered. I'm not use to a boy giving me such concern, especially not when their body is nearly pressed up against my own.

I can't deny what he says. At first he was concerned about the coffee stain and me being embarrassed. Now his attention is focused on my warmth. But I'd feel bad if the coffee ended up staining his nice clothing.

As I'm contemplating what to do, an idea occurs to me.

"Close your eyes," I mumble.

"Why?" He asks.

"Just do it..." my voice is strained, and even I can tell.

My heart begins to pound at my chest again. "Are they closed?"

"Yeah."

Taking a deep breath, I place my books onto a small shelf besides me. Without wasting any time, I begin to peel my wet shirt from my skin. Carefully, I try pulling it over my head without getting my face nor hair wet.

Taking my shirt off will prevent his sweater from getting wet and stained too. I wouldn't even consider this as an option if the room wasn't pitch black. But it is... so I try to make the best of a complicated situation.

As I lift my shirt over my head, I suddenly lose my footing. The room is so small and dark, balancing myself was nearly impossible. With my arms tangled above my head, I couldn't even begin to look for something to grab onto. For a moment, it feels like I'm about to crash into a pile of buckets and brooms.

Although, Justin is quick to react, and I gasp as I feel his warm hands on my bare, wet waist. My whole body tenses up, and for a moment I forget entirely that I'm even at school.

A quick remembrance of Grayson's touch flutters into my mind. Vague memories of that night threaten to break the veil, but before they have a chance of revealing themselves, the thought of him his gone.

"Are you okay?" He's quick to ask.

"Keep your eyes shut!" The words tumble from my mouth in a hurried mess.

"I can't see anything anyways, Madison." He reassures me, his voice sounding different... almost like he is just as tense as me.

He continues. "Here..."

As he releases my waist, bitterness floods to my skin, replacing his warm touch. Reaching for my arms that are above my head, he untangles my shirt. Despite my face being caught in a wet piece of cloth, I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks.

Once my shirt is off, it drops to the ground. Grabbing for his sweater, I put it on as fast as I humanly can. As I pop my head through it, it droops over my shoulders in an oversized and comfy way.

Just as I'm about to bend down and grab my shirt, I realize that I can't. The closet is too narrow. Just two bodies are more than enough to fill the entire space. Justin, however, notices my intentions and tries to step to the side as much as he can. Instead of bending, I try squatting, and as I do, our bodies press against each other.

Quickly snatching the wet cloth, I straighten up, only to see the silhouette of Justin's face turned away from me. For what feels like forever, there's nothing but silence.

"I think the halls are clear now, " Justin's voice is low.

"Right," I say, grabbing my books from the shelf. In a hurry, I swivel around, ignoring the fact that our bodies bump against each other again. As I turn the nob, I shove open the door.

A wave of light and fresh air hit us.

As I step out, Justin is close behind. He was right, the halls have emptied.

When I look towards him, our eyes meet for the first time today. Just as they've always been, his orbs are a brilliant, sharp blue. The color is so vivid, it feels like they're reflecting an ocean.

I look away, feeling tense under his eyes. How could I not when they look at me with such forwardness? He's staring, and he isn't trying to hide it.

"Thank you," I say, genuinely feeling more relieved now that I'm wearing something else.

"No problem," he smiles.

Biting my lip, my eyes drop to the ground.

Justin's always been very attractive, even when we were younger. When I use to visit Violet for play dates or sleepovers, him and Grayson were usually around the house. Whereas Grayson was always causing trouble for me, Justin would help me when his back was turned. While we never really got to know each other, there's always been a unsaid friendship between us.

As I'm stuck in my thoughts, the late bell rips me back to the present.

"I should go throw this in my locker," I raise my shirt. "Whenever I see you next, I'll give your sweatshirt back. Stainless."

Without waiting for a reply, I quickly scurry off. It almost feels like I'm racing against my own heart. I don't dare look back as I near my locker. Popping it open, I toss in my wet shirt. When I close it, I turn the opposite way that I came. My nerves are on high alert for some reason, and I don't want to embarrass myself anymore than I already have.

So, instead, I'll take the long way to class.

*****