I pace back and forth over the kitchen tiles, nervously scratching at the skin of my thighs. I sip at my milkshake, hoping it will calm my stomach. I even used a swirly straw to distract myself, but it didn't work.

"He'll be right here," Lena says. "Try not to stress about it."

"I just-," I stumble. "I don't understand."

"It's okay, girl, have a snack."

I shove a handful of chips in my mouth, trying to keep myself busy. My phone vibrates, but its not from Owen. It's just a Facebook notification.

"They'll be alright," Lena assures me. "They're on their way."

"What if the cops come?"

"They won't. They don't even know his name."

No one dared tell them. That would be a death sentence. Everyone in that bar saw him beat up Christian, and it's not an unusual thing. Tyler and fights go together like summer and sunshine.

"They're here," Lena says.

My eyes shoot over to the door. Owen steps in first, but Tyler is hot on his heels. His shirt is ripped, and his knuckles are covered in blood.

As soon as his eyes meet mine, I abandon my cup on the counter and march towards him. He meets me halfway, glaring down at me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I call. "How could you be so stupid!?!"

"Stupid?" he scoffs. "You think what I did was stupid?"

"Yes! You can't do things like that!"

"And why the fuck not?"

"Because you're on probation!"

"So? You think I fucking care?"

"You sure did when we wanted a party," I point out.

"That's different!" he snickers.

"How?"

"Because my PO can find me here!"

"And he can't out there?"

"No!"

"And that makes it okay? You can't just keep smoking and drinking and... and... risking your life!"

"Why the fuck not, huh? It's my life, not yours!"

"Do you want to go to prison?" I insist

"I don't give a shit!"

"This is your life, Tyler! How could you not care?"

"Because it doesn't fucking matter what I do, I'll end up there anyway!"

His words surprise me. It's like his anger is fuelled by his insecurity. He instantly regrets his words, and purses his lips.

"You will if you don't stop this," I say.

"Stop what?!" he sneers, returning to his emotionless self.

"This! The fighting, drinking, drugs, all of it!"

I swear I've seen him with a cigarette in his mouth more times than without. When is he not drinking?

"And why the fuck do you care?" he spits.

"Because you might not care about me, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you!"

He scoffs. "You don't fucking care about me."

"Yes, I do!"

"Well you ducking shouldn't!"

"How could I not?"

"Because you ducking shouldn't!" he repeats.

"Why the hell not?" I push. "Huh?"

He lets out a frustrated grumble, avoiding my eyes. He runs a hand through his curls, but doesn't give me a response. He begins to walk away.

"We're not done!" I stop him.

"Yes, we are!"

"No! Talk to me!"

"And say what, huh?" he turns back towards me. "What do you want from me?!"

"I want you to tell me why you did that!"

"Why I did what?"

"Why did you punch him?"

"Because he's a fucking dick!"

"to me!" I explain. "Not to you!"

"So ducking what?"

"So you did that because of what he said to me!"

"Well, I wasn't just going to stand there and let him!"

"You did it to protect me!"

"Is that what you want?" he scoffs. "You want me to tell you I care about you?"

"no!" I object. "that's not what this is about?"

"Then what is it? What the fuck do you want from me, Sarah?!"

"I want you to-," I hesitate. "I want..."

"Spit it out!"

"I want an explanation!" I blurt. "It doesn't make any sense! Why would you do that when you hate me so much?"

"Because I don't fucking hate you, Sarah! Fuck! You're so fucking dense!"

"Then why are you always such a dick to me?!"

"Because I fucking care about you! Jesus fucking Christ! Don't you understand?!"

"No, I don't! That doesn't make any sense!"

"I'm trying to protect you!"

"From Christian?"

"No! From me!"

"Why? Why do I need protection from you?"

"Because, I-," he cuts himself off, clamping his mouth shut.

"Because what?"

He looks down at the ground, not responding to my question.

"Why me and not Lena?" I ask.

No response.

"Why are you like this, Tyler?" I breathe. "Why can't you tell me?"

"Because you'll hate me more than you already do!"

"I don't hate you!"

He scoffs. "That's because you don't know."

"I don't know what?"

"Me! You don't know me! You don't know who I am!"

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. I have no idea what to say to that.

"Tyler..." I hesitate.

"Are we done now? You're really starting to piss me off."

"No," I shake my head.

He groans. "What the duck else do you want?"

"I want answers."

"Forget it."

"No, Tyler. You need to tell me! My head feels like it's about to explode."

"I don't care!"

"Yes, you do! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Forget I said anything at all!"

"No!"

"Let it go!"

"I can't!"

"Why the fuck not? It's not a big deal!"

"Tyler... please..."

"What, Sarah? What's your problem?"

"I just... Can you please explain it to me?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Just... explain it to me."

"I can't!" he groans. "There are some things you don't know, and I'm not going to be the one to tell you."

I contemplate his words. What could it possibly be? Did I know him as a kid or something? Are we related in some way?

Holy shit.

Was Tyler is the guy who got my sister pregnant?

He clears his throat, snapping me out of my thoughts. I try to wipe the shock off my face. I can't jump to assumptions right away.

"Trust me," he continues. "It's best you stay as far away from me as possible."

He moves to walk past me, but I don't let him. I grab hold of his hand. He pulls it away right away, but does pause in his step.

"I'd like to thank you for standing up for me tonight."

"Well, I wasn't going to stand around and let some asshole treat you like that."

But that's exactly what he does, too. Especially if he does talk about me the way Christian makes it seem.

All this thinking will give me a whiplash.

"I appreciate it," I say.

"it's the least I can do," he responds, but then whispers beneath his breath. "I owe you so much more than that."

He walks away, letting me mull over his words.

Why would he owe me anything? This tells me he can't be Quinn's ex. If he was, I'd be the one that owed him. So what does he know that I don't?