"Yes, I'm still in your bed. Where else would I be?" I lay in a puddle of my own drool, the warm liquid softening the dried tears from last night.

"I was hoping... oh, I don't know, that you'd be anywhere else!" Violet groans. "You've been in bed all day. You realize that the sun is setting soon?"

"Good, that means I can go to sleep again." I smile.

Her long silence confirms an eye roll.

"I'll be home later tonight. Until then, try to busy yourself! Really, Maddi. It worries me. I know you just want to be alone after what happened yesterday..." Her sentence trails off. "But I think that's the last thing you really need. Being alone with clouded thoughts isn't good— so please! Go do anything. And if there's nothing to do, there's always Grayson to bother."

Grayson... bothering Grayson. Would she still have said that if she knew about us... and how we woke up next to each other the night of her party?

I sit up and wipe my wet cheek. "What makes you think he's even home? It's Saturday. Wouldn't that be some kind of sin to his kind?"

"You won't know unless you get out of bed." She tries to sway me.

I glance at Violet's door. I've haven't left her room since coming home from the party last night. My stomach's been growling like a starved beast in the wild, and I'm sure I don't look far off from one either.

"Alright," I finally gather enough energy to lift myself from her bed.

"I'll be home later tonight." She sounds a bit happier. "Love you, Maddi."

I return the affection and hang up the phone. Last night after Violet heard about what happened between Quintin and I, she had Austin drive her back home— who she apparently had a very hard time finding. It wasn't long after Grayson and I walked through the front door that she came running in.

She scolded me first about walking home alone. I've never seen Grayson agree with her before, but there he was, nodding at her words. Then she apologized, weeping and wilting in a way that I never saw her cry before. It was like she was drowning in guilt, blaming herself for pairing me and Quintin together.

It wasn't her fault and I told her that a thousand times before her tears would calm down. Quintin's intentions were his and his alone.

I sigh, my empty stomach dragging me towards her door.

A couple hours ago Austin came to pick her up so that they could talk. Even though she wouldn't say it out loud, it was obvious that she was unsettled about Austin having a friend like Quintin. She told me that if he couldn't choose better friends, then he'd have to find a different girlfriend.

I'll never let something unwanted go that far again. Not after how it's affecting the people around me. I can handle my own sadness... but now Violet's relationship is wavering.

I take in a deep breath. At least it's the weekend. The one time I can actually sleep in Violet's room. If I had slept on Grayson's futon, I may have cried all night without Violet there to talk with me.

Cry— not so much because of what Quintin did, but because of what it caused. Violet questioning her relationship, Justin and all the rumors that are sure to be circulating now because of how he stepped in to help me... and Grayson and how he had to pick me up off the side of the road.

All because I couldn't say no.

I rub my throat, feeling it clog up. How will Grayson ever look at me the same after seeing me so broken? Or the real question— how will I look at him the same after seeing a kindness I never thought he had?

Justin, Grayson... Violet.

Would Violet be risking her relationship over me if she had known that I was the girl in Grayson's bed that day?

I shake my head as if not thinking about it will make the issue go away.

The long mirror that hangs on the back of Violet's door reflects a walking, living mess back at me. An over-sized sweatshirt, a hair of angry knots and dark moons beneath my eyes. I try to smooth out my hair and clothes, but it's the pink rawness around my eyelids that I can't fix.

I try to rub the color away as I stalk out of Violet's room and into the hallway.

I'm passing by Grayson's room, completely zoned out if I'm being honest— when I pause for a second. From behind his door, I can hear a faint pair of voices, but before I can make out any of the words, a tiny shadow catches my attention. It moves across the floor in a zig-zag motion.

The blur of fuzz bolts across my feet. An irrational amount of terror shoves itself deep into the pit of my stomach and comes out in the form of a scream.

My muscles pull and bend as I break into a sprint. What. The. Hell. Is. That?!

The weight of my body slams into Grayson's door as I jump and dodge the scurrying rat. I jimmy at his knob before barging in, immediately gunning to get off the ground. The small rat weaves in and out of my feet as it tries to climb my legs.

When my eyes meet his emeralds, I gurgle out his name in panic. "Grayson!"

I know only one goal: get off the ground.

Before he can even look in my direction, I'm launching myself onto his bed. As I land, his legs are crushed beneath me and become tangled within my own. I try to regain my composure, to sit up, but I can barely catch my breath.

For a second, I swear I can hear the rat crawling up the bedding. I nearly lose my shit again— but a different shadow from across the room grabs my attention.

Staring at me with curious and concerned eyes is none other than Justin.

"Amelia's calling again," I scratch the back of my head before it thuds against my headboard.

"If you don't answer, you know she's going to make it hell for you on Monday." Justin snickers, weaving his pen in and out of his fingers. Laid across his lap is his attempt at studying: a closed book and the box of donuts he took from the kitchen on his way up.

Before he got here, I had taken the liberty of putting all of Madison's blankets and clothes in the closet. While I trust Justin with my life, I think it's best if no one knew about her and I sharing rooms.

The rumors it could start...

I roll my head side to side on the headboard, looking down at the seven missed calls. Amelia and I have a complicated relationship to say the least. She was Violet's friend long before ever knowing me, before Violet even knew Madison, but with the amount of times that she was over at our house... we were bound to run into each other. I don't know when the transition happened exactly, but one day she started coming over for me instead of Violet.

It's probably the reason that Violet has trust issues when it comes to friendships.

"She keeps texting me about a party tonight," I swipe through her messages as the call goes to voicemail. Despite all my texts saying no, she persists.

As I swipe higher, I see dozens of invitations to FaceTime, and my consistent excuses. Either I'm not home, or I'm practicing football, or I'm helping dad out with something— when in reality, Madison is usually asleep on the futon.

There's already enough rumors circulating, and I'm not desperate enough to risk leaking the fact that Madison stays in my room.

I watch Justin's posture tense up. Our Saturdays usually consist of something active— a party, the gym, the mall or just us guys doing dumb shit— but after what happened last night, I can speak for him when I say neither of us feel like doing anything.

Justin shakes his head. "Another party? That's not a good idea."

Justin's thumb grazes his bruised knuckles. They're dotted with red scabs and broken skin. Getting physical is nothing like Justin, unless really provoked. He's the type of guy to diffuse the situation with humor or logic— but to protect someone else? Someone he cared about? He would break all his morals.

A coarse sigh pushes through my nose. "You can say that again. My whole hand would be broken if I ran into that guy."

All the videos I've seen on social media... all the misconceptions and rumors. The shock on Madison's face and the whispers of judgement. If I was there, my anger would've gotten the best of me.

Justin doesn't look up from his wounds.

"Why'd you do it?" I toss him the question, watching his hands.

He looks up at me, "the same reason you would."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah," his voice shifts and his gaze lingers away from me. "Seeing any girl get taken advantage of is bad enough, but the fact that it was Maddi... the same Maddi that used to get her head stuck in the fence because she wanted to kiss the neighbors dog—" he tries bottling his thoughts into words. "I did it because she doesn't deserve that. If in that moment she couldn't find the words to say no... she deserved someone else to be there to say it for her."

"You said a lot more than no," I joke and he releases a tense laugh, flexing his fingers.

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck. "My anger may have gotten the best of me."

With my head leaned back, I watch him through the length of my eyelashes. It's written so clearly across his body. The way he stares at his feet when he talks about her, how her danger causes him to throw away his morals...there's no question that he likes Madison.

But does he know it himself?

If he knew that we woke up in the same bed together once... would that cause a rift in our friendship? Or would he begin to resent me if he knew that she sleeps soundly right where he is sitting, and that before practice in the mornings... I sometimes stop to watch her.

"You know, there's a reason why I used to push her around all the time when we were younger, and it's not solely because I was a dick." My fingers run through my hair. "I wanted her to know how to push back against guys that were larger than her. If she could fight against me, I always thought she'd have no problem standing up for herself against others."

There's a long silence as we both sit in thought.

"Grayson," Justin breaks the rift, and I know exactly what he's going to ask. His words are slow, like he's afraid that the answer to his question could change everything. "Do you have feelings for Madison?"

My phone vibrates again and I aimlessly reach for it. How do I answer a question like that? No matter how cold or childish I can be towards her, of course I care for her. Violet too, in my own twisted, murky way.

How am I suppose to know if my care for Madison goes deeper than that?

I glance at the screen, another FaceTime call from Amelia coming in. Just as I'm about to place the phone back down, a scream shatters from behind my door.

The hinges groan as Madison bulldozes in. Her feet are dancing across the ground as if she's playing hopscotch, and before I know it, she's face first in my chest, sprawled across my lap. Her elbows dig into my legs as she tries to prop herself up, dazed that she landed on me and not an empty bed.

My mouth opens, but I'm at a loss of words. What the hell?

She shuffles around, backing up towards the headboard. Her movements are exotic and random, causing her head to slam against my phone. It nearly slips out of my hand, but I strengthen my grip just in time. When I look back at the phone, there's a confused Amelia staring back at me.

Shit.

"Madison—" My voice is tight. If Amelia saw this—

The back of Madison's head bobs around the frame of the video. As I stare a tour reflection, everything looks so out of place, so wrong. Not only is my bed messy, but so is Madison and her hair. She becomes more tangled within me as she tries to fight her way out of me.

My eyes fixate on my phone's camera and I can start to feel my pulse rise. The hickey she received last night sat plump on her neck clear as day for Amelia to see. To misunderstand, to warp, to weaponize.

She ends the call before I can do it myself.

I drop the phone into the blankets, squeezing the bridge of my nose, contemplating what the hell Amelia might do now. Madison's heavy breathing pulls me back to the present.

I raise my head to ask her what's going on, but her eyes are locked onto something across the room. She must not have even heard the FaceTime call...

When I follow her gaze, it lands on Justin. As if in a trance, she doesn't pull her attention back towards me. It's only when I pull my legs out from under her does she snap back into reality.

"Grayson," her voice shakes. "I didn't know that Justin was over! I didn't mean to barge in, it's just that— Ah! Rat! There!"

She frantically points at the ground, where a tiny rat runs in circles.

A crooked grin breaks through my stress. "Don't tell me your this afraid of a little mouse..."

Her eyes shift from me to the ground, then back to me, then to our tangled legs. She bolts out of my lap and backs up against the headboard, the awkwardness of our position finally revealing itself to her. My eyes move on their own, glancing at Justin, scanning his reaction.

He was unreadable.

Which means he was bothered. As someone who wears that face far too much, I would know.

She shrieks again and I give her my full attention. "Look! It's coming onto the bed! Get it! BRO. Get it! Now!!! PLEASE."

Justin's clearing off his lap, and I'm untangling my legs from the sheets, but before either of us can react to the rodent, it charges at Madison.

What the hell did she do to piss it off this bad?

She screams one more time, trying to bolt away. Before she can, her footing gives out against the wobbly bed. I try reaching for her waist, but the back of her head hits the corner of my night stand before I make it.

Justin and I spout a foul word at the same time, rushing to her side.

Her face contorts as she grabs her head. When she pulls her hand away, it's covered in blood.

*****

Thank you guys for everything.