I approach Dario's truck at the end of the day. His eyes are closed and his head is resting against the headrest. His lips are moving, following the words to something. I open the door and a familiar tune eases its way out into the air.

"I wouldn't have pegged you as a fan of The Killers."

He jerks, scrambling to hit the 'skip' button. I jump into the truck, slamming the door before I grab his hand to stop him. His eyes widen, glancing down at our hands then to me.

I did not think this through.

"Leave it on. Mr. Brightside brings me back to when I was younger."

He doesn't make a move to take his hand away from mine. As much as I would like to continue this moment, I let go of his hand, playing it off the best I can.

"Let's go before we get caught behind buses."

Dario nods, shifting in the seat slightly before putting the truck into drive, slipping out right before the first bus. He taps his hands against the steering wheel to the beat of the music as if it was a drum. I can't help but smile at this sight.

And notice the healing wounds from his fight with Trevor.

"You never told me why you and Trevor got into a fight exactly."

"He insulted and threatened someone I care about deeply. He got what was coming for him. Simple as that."

I not, unsure of how exactly to react to that statement.

The daggers he has already thrust into my heart just dig and twist deeper.

He cares about someone.

Deeply.

It's clearly not a family member.

And even if I were to entertain the idea of it being me, it would be in a family way.

Because we are just friends.

I cringe at those thoughts.

Just friends.

Not what I want to be considered, but I have to take what I can get.

He pulls up to the house, parking and killing the engine.

I cock my head at the sight before me.

"That's odd."

"What?"

"Zach isn't home. He's always home before us."

"Just text him. He probably had to run out to the store."

I climb out of the truck, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. My phone weasels its way into my hand.

Me: Where you at?

I am already inside the house and started on my homework

Dad 2: Don't tell Dario, but we are checking up on Morris. Have to make sure his treatment is going as planned and that he will be going to jail after.

Me: You're secret is safe with me. When will you be home?

Dad 2: We haven't even arrived at the center. Maybe around eight?

Me: See you then.

I put my phone down when I hear footsteps approaching the living room. Dario appears, bracing his arms against the door frame.

"I need run to my house to grab the rest of my stuff. Want to tag along?"

I look down at my attire. Black tank top and blue jeans.

"As long as I don't have to change."

"Just throw on a jacket and you're good to go."

I grab the hoodie that is draped over the back of the chair, well aware that it is Dario's. He doesn't say anything. He just shakes his head and smiles.

"Got a problem?"

"Nope."