With Cruz at the wheel and me in the front passenger's seat, our drive to school is quiet but, surprisingly, not too uncomfortable. Somehow, seemingly telepathically, both Cruz and I have arrived at an unspoken agreement to pretend as though his boner never humped my ass this morning.

Works for me!

Although, I can't help but worry if this means that Cruz won't be sleeping in my room anymore?

Going forward, a repeat of this morning probably wouldn't be ideal. Cruz likes someone else, after all. He shouldn't be in my bed at all. I don't want to keep taking advantage of his kindness. It's also risky as hell for us to be sneaking around like this with Rob and Aunt Katrina sleeping under the same roof.

Maybe I need to stop asking Cruz to come over at night?

Yeah, I shouldn't bother him anymore.

I really need to try to sleep by myself again. Although, admittedly, I don't feel ready. The thought of being in the dark, alone, and losing consciousness, alone, makes me feel sick. Anxiety clings to my chest. By default, I start twisting strands of my hair between my fingers.

Cruz glances over at a red light and asks, "You okay?"

I try to mask my fears, offering up a forced smile. "I'm good."

His gaze lingers on my face for a moment before reaching over to clasp my free hand. He mutters, "Liar."

His touch, as always, feels warm and comforting.

I let go of my hair and admit, "Okay... maybe I'm a little nervous."

He gives my hand a squeeze. "Yeah?"

I gulp. "Yeah."

When the traffic light turns green, I expect Cruz to take his hand back, but he keeps one on the wheel and the other on me. I'm a little surprised, but I don't comment on it. I'm distracted at the moment. Thoughts of Chrissa and Brody are buzzing through my mind.

Do I approach Thing One and Thing Two first?

Or let them come to me?

I don't even know what I should say to them. A practice script starts forming in my head.

Maybe something along the lines of: Please leave me alone, and I'll keep my mouth shut?

No, no, I should be more assertive: If you even think about pinning this shit on Cruz, then me and my big mouth are going straight to Luke?

Or is that too aggressive?

Neither scenario seems to lead to an ideal outcome. Even if I uphold my end of our agreement, I don't really trust Chrissa or Brody to honor their end. Yet, I don't want to antagonize them and stir up more drama, and I definitely don't want to trouble Cruz with this bullshit any more than necessary.

Uncertainty puts me on edge again.

Instead of playing with my hair this time, though, I start fiddling mindlessly with Cruz's fingers, massaging his thumb and forefinger with mine, caressing his palm, to calm my jitters. He lets me do it, and I'm grateful that he doesn't snatch his hand away. I know I'm being touchy-feely and super neurotic right now.

He clears his throat, remarking, "You look like you have a lot on your mind.

I wrinkle my nose. "Do I?"

"Talk to me."

But I remain tight-lipped, withdrawn, even though I know he wants me to open up. As we continue driving to school, Cruz attempts to pry a real response from me a few more times, but I give him nothing. He shouldn't have to feel responsible for my problems. The guy has already done more than enough for me.

Saving me from that locked room at Sam's house. 

Taking me to the hospital. 

Staying with me at night when I was too scared to sleep alone. 

Driving me to school today.

It's too much, really.

I'm scared that I'll get used to having him around, and, whenever this fiasco blows over and he stops being nice to me, I won't remember how to be on my own anymore.

Even friends need to have boundaries. I want to protect myself from getting hurt as much as I want to protect Cruz from drama.

Ten minutes later, we pull into our school parking lot. My stomach sinks with dread at the sight of our campus. The familiar red brick buildings, the green lawns, and the flagpole have never looked more intimidating or unwelcoming in my eyes. Reality lands like a sucker-punch. I'm really here. I can't hide anymore. It's time to face this shit head on.

Cruz parks his black SUV in an empty spot and finally releases my hand. I sling my backpack over my shoulder and freak out for a second when I can't find my board. Then, I remember that I left it at home thanks to my free ride from Cruz. Feeling sheepish, I hop out of the vehicle. Cruz grabs his backpack and gets out, too.

Quickening my stride, I try to put some distance between me and him. "Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it."

But he easily closes the gap between us with his longer legs. Worry clouds his green eyes when he glances at me. "So, what's our game plan?"

Our?

Why is he thinking this way?

On the ride over, I kept my thoughts to myself for this very reason. Again, Chrissa and Brody aren't supposed to be our problem. They're supposed to be my problem.

I shrug, keeping my reply intentionally vague, "Anything goes, I guess."

"Do you want me to, uh, stick around until first hour? Just in case you run into Chrissa or Brody?"

I shake my head and smile brightly, "Nah, it's cool. I got this."

He frowns. "You sure? I don't mind."

"I don't think it's a good idea for people to see us together."

His jaw seems to tick with annoyance. "Why?"

"Because," I try to explain, "you're you and I'm me and we never hang out at school."

Cruz sighs, "Why does that even matter?"

I speak slowly as though talking to a small child, "If Chrissa and Brody wanna stir shit up, and people see that we're together, then they might start talking shit about you, too. We weren't friends before everything went down at Sam's party, so it's sus if the two of us start acting chummy out of nowhere, don't you think?"

He doesn't look happy with my reasoning. "I guess so? But, like, I don't really care about what other people think. I just wanna make sure that you're ok—"

I don't let him finish. I start jogging toward campus and toss over my shoulder, "Anyway, I'm gonna go now! I don't wanna be late!"

"Athena!"

I ignore Cruz and keep going across the parking lot. I hear his footsteps catching up behind me. I quicken my stride to a light jog. Before he can reach me, I dash inside the main building and duck into the nearest girls' restroom.

When the heavy metal door closes behind me, I release a soft, shaky sigh, feeling slightly relieved to have a moment to myself until I hear an all too familiar female voice drawl, "We need to talk, slut."

Ah, fuck.