When the last class of the day ends, I am quick to get to my locker. Despite being late to class, the teacher didn't seem to mind. All that I received was a curious glance— not only from her but from the whole class. For a moment I thought it was because of my tardiness, but in reality, I think it was because of Justin's sweatshirt.

As I gather my stuff, I'm nearly ready to head out to the buses. Before I can, I get a barrage of texts from Violet. After reading them, I learn that she has a two hour detention. She tells me not to worry and that afterwards, she'll get picked up by Austin. Apparently there is a big party tonight that Austin is hosting anyway, so she'll be there.

Just as I go to put my phone away, it beeps again. This time, Violet asks me if she can borrow my math textbook for her detention. She apparently isn't allowed to leave the room to get her own.

Certain teachers are so aggravating sometimes. They keep you in a room for two hours but won't let you go get your books. Don't they want us to succeed?

You actually want to do homework? I reply.

No, of course not! But I'm going to anyway. She answers.

Grabbing the textbook from my locker, I push it shut. I quickly scurry towards the classroom she texted me. Sadly, it's across the whole school and I'm forced to do an awkward fast-walk. Every corner I pass, I'm glancing up at the clock.

The buses will be leaving in 5 minutes.

The door is open when I arrive, their detention just about to start. Violet spots me and hops out of her chair, receiving an intense glare from the teacher.

"You're a lifesaver!" Violet takes the book with a big smile.

"No problem," I'm out of breath. "Enjoy."

As I turn to leave, Violet stops me.

"Wait! About the party tonight," her voice is low. "It's at Austin's house, so we won't be able to come pick you up because we'll be setting things up. But, chances are, Grayson's going too, so you could totally catch a ride with him."

"I don't know, Vi." I say. "I'll probably just nap when I get home."

"Oh come on! It's Friday!" Violet oozes.

"Last time I went to a party, I got shitfaced." I grumble.

"And? Nothing bad happened because of it. There was only fun! " Violet says.

"Right..." I mumble, looking away.

Thoughts from that night creep towards the front of my mind. Does me waking up in Grayson's bed count as bad? Any other girl would probably count that as a win... something they'd never want to forget. But that's all I've been trying to do. Forget.

Every time I think of it, I think of how hurt Violet would be if she knew.

"Miss. Stephens!" The teacher calls towards Violet. "Detention is starting now. Get to your seat."

I wince at the woman's grumpiness.

Violet gives me a puppy-eyed look as she walks backwards towards her seat. "Think about it." She tells me.

"Unless you want to join us, I suggest you leave." The teacher redirects her attitude towards me. My heart jumps and I waste no time scurrying away. For a moment, I'm actually considering going to the party. It's never good to let a friend go alone, even if she's there with her boyfriend, at his house.

Glancing up at the clock, my eyes go wide.

Tossing my fast-walk away, I start sprinting. It's not long before I bust through the schools doubled doors, the bright sky greeting me. The heavy wood creaks shut behind me and I'm left staring forward in devastation. One by one, each buss pulls out of the lot.

Today absolutely couldn't get any worse. How was I suppose to get home now?

I'm left standing there for a few minutes, convincing myself it's okay. Walking is still an option... my only option actually. I could use the extra exercise anyway. A twenty to thirty minute walk isn't too bad. Our grandparents had to walk miles. This is nothing. I have no right to compla—

The double doors swing open again, this time slamming into my back. Thankfully, my bag full of books lessens the blow. Of course I had to be standing right in the middle of the exit. Why do I do these things to myself?

I catch my footing before I'm able to topple over.

"Are you alright?" A deep voice pulls away from another conversation to address me.

"I'm fine, it was my fault anyway." I apologize, dusting off Justin's sweatshirt, despite there being nothing on it.

"Oh, it's you Maddi." I identify the voice as Grayson very quickly.

The sun forces me to squint as I look up at Grayson. His brown hair flutters as the wind brushes past us and his friends. He doesn't have to squint because he's looking down at me.

"What, does that negate any concern you have?" I test him.

Before he can answer, his friends step out from behind him.

"Hey, Madison." Chris smiles, giving me a small wave. Next to him stands Grant. I can't bear to look at Grant. Not after how he tackled me during the football match.

"Hey," I greet him.

Grayson's left standing between us. For awhile, he's just looking at me, trying to figure something out. "Did a guy on the team give you his sweatshirt?"

Suddenly, I realize that my fingers are fiddling with the white jaw-strings. Thankfully I never started started biting them subconsciously out of habit...

"Yeah." I say. I follow up my words a bit too quickly, "—but it's not what you think."

Chris pops into the conversation, his voice saturated with a playful kind of melancholy. "I wish I could give my sweatshirt to someone, but they're taken."

Chris continues, "it's tradition for the players to give their sweater to a girl they like. That way they can wear it during the first big game of the year."

Wait— really? I've never heard of this tradition and I'm a Junior! Then again... I've never really attended many football games.

"Which is next week," Grant chimes in, glaring at Chris. The hidden message in his eyes are clear to me. Chris must've been slacking off during their practices.

Suddenly, Grant is taking off his back pack, and shifting the weight to his other shoulder. In the process, I notice his football number on the back of his white sweatshirt. All three of them are wearing theirs. Do they all have their own unique number?

I feel relieved that my backpack covers Justin's. I don't want them getting the wrong idea and bothering him about it.

Chris ignores him, wiggling his eye brows at me in a boyish manner, "so who's the lucky guy?"

"There is no lucky guy!" The words rush out of my mouth. "Like I said, it's not like that."

All three boys, especially Grayson, just stare at me unconvinced. Grayson even has a little skepticism in his eyes, probably wondering who it could've been. Before I have a chance to fully explain, the double doors swing open again, barely missing Chris this time.

"There you guys are," Justin laughs as he steps down the cement stairs. "I was tied up with Mrs. Naggel, she wouldn't let me leave until I accepted a detention for being late to her class."

Justin got in trouble for being late? I didn't even get a warning...

Not only do I feel terribly bad, but I also feel extremely awkward right now.

The guys laugh and welcome Justin by doing some weird handshake. It isn't until he's finished that he notices me standing there.

His face lights up. "Hey, Madison."

I return his smile, but I wonder if he can see my lips quiver. "Hey."

A feeling of worry rushes over me. I need to leave before Justin says anything about his sweatshirt. With the guys misconception as to why I have it, I don't want to make things awkward for Justin.

"Anyway," I say quickly. "I should get going. It's a long walk."

Just as I think I've escaped the situation, the silence goes away.

"You're walking home?" Grayson asks as I begin jogging down the steps.

"You don't see any buses left, do you?" I don't even turn back around.

More silence hovers in the air.

"I'm headed home." Grayson states.

"Nice, me too." I keep going. I've always referred to Violet's house as my own.

A deep sigh leaves Grayson's throat. "What I mean is that I can give you a ride."

My feet freeze in place. Is the galaxy playing tricks on me?

Turning towards Grayson, I lower my eyes. "What, now you wan't drive me? What about this morning?"

Any kindness that Grayson may have had previously, vanishes from his face. Starting down the steps, he heads towards me. His voice goes dry, almost like me questioning his intentions bothered him.

"I had to be to school early because of practice. I didn't think you guys wanted to wake up that early."

My eyebrow twitches. Since when did Grayson care about our needs?

Grayson gives his friends a wave and they exchange a few last words. Before I know it, he's leading me towards his car. For a brief moment, I consider my other option, but I quickly decide. Riding along with Grayson beats having to walk under the hot sun any day.

Grayson's car is parked as close to the front as you can get. Arriving early for practice seems to have it's perks.

As I place my hand on the handle to the passenger side, I look towards the doubled doors of the school. There was barely any distance that he had to walk, and I can even hear Chris and Grant arguing over something stupid.

Just as Grayson unlocks his car from afar, it beeps a few times. When he arrives at the driver side, Justin's voice suddenly calls out to us.

"You can keep the sweatshirt for as long as you want,"

My ears begin to ring.

"It looks good on you." His blue eyes wont let mine go.

If a heart could breach a ribcage, mine sure would have.

My tense lips form a smile, and Justin gives one back. When I redirect my head forward, my eyes catch Grayson's. It feels like we're frozen in time... partly because his face seems unreadable and still. There's a slight jump in his jaw that reassures me time is still moving.

Popping open the door, I quickly climb inside. The motion happens so fast, I actually manage to slam my foot against the bottom of his car. As I buckle my seat belt, my brain direly wants myself to look busy— probably to avoid conversation. Therefore, I shuffle through my book bag aimlessly.

When Grayson gets in the car, it's silent like usual. As he reverses his car out of the lot, we end up stuck in that typical high school traffic. Everyone wants to go home as soon as possible. But not as soon as me.

"It's not like that, huh?" Grayson breaks the silence.

I stop looking through my bag. "What?"

"Justin's sweatshirt."

"Oh," my eyes shift around. "Well, it's not like that. It's not what you guys we're saying."

Grayson doesn't say anything, but instead focuses on the slow traffic in front of him.

The silence is an opportunity for me to explain, so I do.

"Josh accidentally spilled iced coffee on me in the hallway. Justin was there and offered his sweatshirt to me, that way I didn't have to go around school looking like a bum. That's all."

I decided to leave out the fact that we were in a janitors closet.

A heavy weight lifts off my shoulders. Now there's no more room for miscommunication. However, it does feel insanely hot in here.

My finger jabs into the side panel button, the window slowly rolling down.

At this point, the traffic begins to clear out and we finally exit the school property. Grayson drives fast, like your typical teenage boy, but he keeps focused on the road. Suddenly, the airflow picks up and the wind causes my hair to whip around.

I zip my bag back up, not wanting any papers to fly out.

My eyes don't break away from the road as Madison explains what happened.

According to her, Justin was just being kind to her— like he's always been since we were kids. I don't doubt it. It's one of the reasons I trust him so much as my best bud. He's sincere and genuine.

But there's no denying the spark of interest he has for her.

When I take a glance towards Madison, she's staring out of her window. Does she not see it? Justin's newfound awe?

Or am I just seeing things that aren't there?

Either way, it doesn't concern me. But for some reason I can't shake the agitation from my mind. What are the chances of my best friend becoming interested in Violet's? She's already evaded my personal living space— and if Justin peruses her, she'll be around every corner.

How am I suppose to support him, when every time I see her, I'm reminded of the secret we're forced to keep.

It's frustrating.

I shouldn't have gotten so drunk that night, after I brought her to my room. It was one of the places off limits to the party-goers, and I figured she'd be safe there— away from any guy or girl trying to pull pranks or take advantage of someones vulnerability.

But then I returned to the party, drank too much... and everything else that comes after remains a jumbled mess of uncertain thoughts.

As I press down on the gas pedal, a sudden smell of coconuts smack me in the face. I ignore the scent for awhile, until I can't anymore. With curiosity, I glance towards my right. Madison's hair dances around, the wind pulling and pushing it. Is that the smell of her shampoo?

The smell brings back memories, mostly of her hands. When we were younger, I recall her always carrying around a small lotion container that clipped to her bags. It was coconut scented, and every time we went head to head, she usually pushed me around, or tried swiping at my face.

It's a nice smell.

As we stop at a red light, my gaze shifts to the windows. As I stare past Madison, I watch a young boy nearly wipe out on his bike, until something catches my attention.

The wind gives Madison no mercy. As it pushes it's way into the car, Justin's sweatshirt flails around. It's way too big on her. As the wide neck of the sweater expands, I realize that her shoulders are bare. The only thing that I see is the strap to her bra.

Where is her shirt?

I don't notice the light turn green until Madison's eyes meet mine. "Green means go."

I try to focus on the road for the rest of the ride, but I find it hard to stop thinking about scenarios. Was she lying about it being nothing more than a kind gesture? Madison's not that type of girl, though. She's always been respectable and nervous with guys. She could never go that far with one... at least not at school.

At least not while sober...

For a fleeting moment, I see her bare, freckled shoulders in my memory. It's unclear and I can't remember much... but the vision pans downward, towards the small of her back. It's arched and she lets me draw lines from freckle to freckle with my finger.

My eyebrows furrow.

The sooner I forget everything about that night, the sooner things go back to normal.

Nothing like that could've happened with Justin. Justin's not that type of dude, either. At least, he shouldn't be with my step-sister's bestfriend.

As I'm about to speak my thoughts and ask Madison about her shirt, she talks first.

"So, Grayson..." she starts. When I don't say anything, she continues. "There's a big party tonight that Austin is hosting, and I was wondering if I could go with you?"

I was invited to that earlier this morning, by Amelia. I told her I would think about it.

"You want to go with me? You mean as my date?" I smirk, watching her tense up in the corner of my eye.

Her reactions never disappoint.

"Not in a million years!" She does her typical grumble. "Violet said you might be going and that if I asked, you might give me a ride."

I think about it for a moment.

"Sure." I say. "But I'm not going myself."

She's slow to reply. "You're not?"

"Nope."

"Why? You're always going to parties." She narrows her eyes at me for whatever reason.

"If you're gone, that means a different girl can occupy my room." I exaggerated my intentions, just to see her reaction.

"That's disgusting." Her voice is gritty. "Just stay away from the futon."

"Is that permission?" A playful gasp leaves my mouth.

"Since when do you need permission for anything." She shoots back.

As I turn the wheel, we roll over a bump that leads into our driveway. Madison is quick to get out of the car. As she heads towards the front door, I'm not far behind. Once inside, she jogs up the stairs and disappears.

I instead, head towards the kitchen. I feel starved.

Before I reach the tiled floor, Madison peeks her head down the stairs.

"The party starts at eight." She informs me on when I need to drop her off.

"Alright," I say, eyeballing an apple on the counter. "Let's hope you can hold your alcohol better than the last party."

By saying that, I spark my own remembrance of that night, but quickly shove the thoughts down. Her eyebrows tilt inward.

"What's that suppose to mean?"

I grab the apple and stare up at her. If my parents car were in the drive way, I wouldn't be speaking like this towards Madison. But it wasn't, and her curious, frustrated face makes me want to tease it.

"Not every guy has a bed as soft as mine."

What happened to forgetting about that night? I should probably make it easier on my self and stop making jokes about it.

She stares at me with a bewildered expression for a moment, before quickly disappearing from my line of sight. After a few seconds pass, I hear her release a frustrated grunt.

Teasing her will never get old.

*****