[Madison Fren POV]

By the time my head stops bleeding, it's 11:00PM and the rat is no where to be found.

"It's best to stay awake for awhile," Justin says, sitting across from me in the living room. "Better safe than sorry— in case you have a concussion."

"We know all about those," Grayson's voice startles me from behind. Something in the way he speaks sounds different... like he's on edge.

"Right..." I laugh lightly. "What better joy than football."

Grayson steps in front of me, staring down at me while holding a bag of ice wrapped in a cloth. With a small smile, I take it from him and hand him the old ice I've had pressed against my head for what feels like hours already. 

The cold bag feels refreshing against my hot skull.

After hitting my head, Grayson and Justin checked to see if it was a deep cut or not. From their experience with injuries and getting stitches, they decided that going to the hospital wasn't necessary. The wound wouldn't need stitches, but it would need time to stop bleeding. For the first hour, we rummaged around in the kitchen. It was me who ate, while they just watched me. 

Now we sit in the living room, and I'm forced to face the two boys who saw me at my most vulnerable. Justin, who I ran from after he helped me out of a terrible situation, and Grayson, who when I was drowning in my own tears, picked me up off the side of the road.

This isn't awkward at all.

"Really though," I clear my throat. "You guys can go back to what you were doing. I think I'm fine now."

Grayson, coming back from the kitchen again, takes a firm seat near Justin— who himself, leans further back into the cushions. 

"Or not..." I mumble to myself.

The minutes drag by, weighed down by silence and Grayson clicking aimlessly through the television. Despite having been in bed all day, a yawn escapes my mouth. I guess I'm more tired than I thought.

I don't even notice myself nodding off until Justin stands up from the couch.

"Madison," he kneels down in front of me. The recliner chair that I'm sitting on rocks back and forth as his knees bump against it. "You can't sleep right now."

Opening my eyes, I nod, but the ice pack that I'm holding slides out of my grip. He catches it before it hits the ground. With a mournful expression, he brushes my hair to one side before pressing the bag to my head himself.

Through heavy eyelids, I catch his eyes faltering on my exposed neck. My collarbone, the mark. The consequence of not saying no to a boy.

"I'm sorry, Justin." I mumble so quietly that I almost consider repeating myself.

"Sorry?" His voice has an edge to it.

"For last night." I say blandly. 

His face is unreadable as he looks up at me. His blonde hair falls above his eyes, and if I wasn't staring at him, I would've missed the twitch in his dark brows. He clenches his jaw before smiling.

"You remembering last night is a good sign that you don't have any serious damage to your head." He eases the tension by shrugging away the topic, but I bring it right back.

"I shouldn't have ran from the situation like that— after what you did. You helped me and I thanked you by doing what? Leaving you alone in front of all those people and their phones— ... the phones." My heart drops. "I can't imagine the rumors that are spread—"

"Madison," Justin stops me. "You're always worrying too much about others."

I suck in my bottom lip.

"What I did is done. I accept the consequences for it. And I'd do it again." He reassures me. 

I nod slightly.

He brings back his familiar smile but I can't tell if it's genuine or a mask. "Plus... I'll always be here, even if you do run away."

It's easy to find his eyes because they're already on mine. 

A shallow breath falls out of me, a heavy weight lifting from my chest. As I close my eyes, I can't help but to feel lighter. I was worried all this time about dragging Justin into drama, but he seems to not be bothered by it at all.

He's so selfless.

"How about you move over here," Justin's lightly tugs me to my feet. "So that we can keep you awake."

I don't bother resisting, not after making amends with him, so I shuffle over to the couch and I plop down next to Grayson. With his eyes fixated on the t.v, I steal a glance from him. Something about him seems off. I'm used to the cold shoulder and ignoring, but usually it comes naturally for him. Right now, it feels like he's forcing himself into being preoccupied.

On my other side, Justin sinks into the cushions.

In the next twenty minutes, it's not me who falls asleep, but Justin. With his arms crossed to his chest, and his head hanging slightly to the side, his breathing is calm. His face looks even sweeter in sleep. 

"Grayson," I mumble, while looking at Justin. A patch of his blonde hair pokes upward— a result of him scratching it in the middle of his sleep. "Justin's asleep and I think I've been awake long enough. So, I'll just go back to Violet's room."

Where is Violet anyway? I hope she's late because they worked things out, rather than the alternative. 

"Grayson?" I ask again after he doesn't give me a response. 

He's focused on his phone, so I watch him with cautious eyes. The screen light illuminates the sharp angles of his face and for a second I almost think I can read the text of his phone through the reflection of his dark pupils. I snap out of my trance when his brows furrow.

His mind isn't here in the living room, but somewhere else.

I'm about to ask him if something is wrong when a sudden weight hits my shoulder. The abrupt motion causes me to jolt. Turning my head slowly, Justin's soft hair tickles my cheek. Totally unaware and fast asleep, his head rests on my shoulder.

My heart skips a beat, and nearly stops when Grayson's voice tugs me back to the present.

"He didn't get much sleep last night." Grayson says. 

I turn my head with extra care as to not disrupt Justin. Grayson's phone is still illuminating him from below, but his attention is now on me. 

"How do you know?" My voice is low. 

"I was with him after I dropped you home," he focuses back towards his phone. "He was still upset about what happened— mostly upset at himself. He felt like he scared you. If you hadn't brought it up tonight, he would have been stuck overthinking how you felt."

My toes scrunch against the warm carpet, tight knots forming in my stomach. Why was Grayson being so honest with me? 

"Why are you telling me this?" I whisper.

He shrugs, almost as if he really doesn't know himself. 

My eyes roam the floor, tracing the patterns in the carpet. "I thanked Justin for last night... but I haven't thanked you yet."

I know his eyes are on me, but I can't look away from the floor. Grayson and I have never known what it's like to be genuinely kind to one another— at least not until last night. Friendship, even acquaintanceship, has never been an option for us.

Violet can't stand him, so neither should I.

But after last night, I'd be lying if I said I don't view him differently now. Amidst all the teasing, popularity and cold-shoulders, he gave me warmth last night. A type of warmth I've never seen from him— warmth that when I look at him now, I know lies somewhere beneath his distant eyes. 

Now that I've seen it, I feel like I'd do anything to see it again. How much warmth does he keep hidden away from everyone. What do I have to do to see it again? 

Grayson's knee presses against my own as he shoves his phone into his pocket, shaking his head at whatever it was he was reading. Justin, as still as ever, tickles my neck with the messy strands of his hair.

"Can I ask you something?" Grayson asks, shifting his knee off of mine.

In the corner of my eye, I watch his posture change, his body facing me now. My mouth gaps open as I feel his hand brush past the shield of hair that protects my neck. His fingers lightly graze my ear, then drop down to the base of my throat. When his thumb finds the dark mark that plagues my collarbone, he swipes over it softly.

His voice is low, "does it hurt?"

My heart beats hard and whole as I quickly place my hand overtop his, keeping it still and in place. Any slight movement and his fingers will send shivers down my spine. What is he doing...

"W-why?" The words catch in my throat. "Isn't it supposed to?"

I've never had a hickey before, but I've heard Violet talk about them. She always wore them with pride... like a mark of promise and love from Austin.

A slight frown tugs to his lips and I become lost in the depths of his face. Graceful and intense, all at once, all in the same gaze. If it wasn't for the few strands of hair that obscure his eyes, I think I might've been able to read them.

From the intensity in his stare, to the twitching in his brows, all the way down to the sharp slope of his nose— there is nothing I wouldn't deem admirable. Nothing I wouldn't deem warm.

Even in his worst moments, I don't think I'll ever see coldness in him again.

"No," he finally says. "Not when the other person cares."

His eyes melt away my walls and I speak as if I have nothing to hide. "It hurt when he gave it to me— so I just thought that it was normal for it to hurt after, too."

His eyes never stray from mine as he moves his hand out from under my own, and to the other side of my neck. Softly, he caresses it and I feel small under his large palm. With Justin right on the other side of his hand, I feel worried that he might wake him. 

My toes scrunch again, more knots than before tugging at my stomach. He isn't meeting my gaze anymore, but looking at the nape of my neck. When he brings his eyes back to mine, it almost feels like he's asking me for permission. Asking me if he can show me what it's supposed to feel like.

What am I thinking? Really, Madison. What are you thinking!

Grayson's not asking that. Why am I making up these scenarios in my head?

I can think only of Violet and how much she would hate me for thinking of such a thing. 

My neck goes fridgid as he pulls his hand away. He faces back towards the television. The heat of the silence pounds down on me, but the calm breathing of Justin pulls me back to sanity.

"Justin and me," Grayson sighs. "We aren't so different."

My heart slows down, but I can't find any thoughts to translate into words. Not after what just happened. Especially not when it crosses the boundaries that Violet set. If she were here, she would be taken aback by how close, verbally and physically, we have been.

I'm already keeping something huge from her. Having more secrets would just make me a terrible friend. Throughout our whole friendship, this is the only thing she's ever asked of me. To stay away from Grayson... unless it was to torment him.

I laugh a small laugh. "What do you mean? You guys are polar opposites."

"We're more alike than you think."

My lips purse. "He's sweet, kind and has a smile that lights up the room." I start waving my hand around. "You're angsty, angry way too much and only know how to smirk."

"I would smile more, if I had reasons to."

"There are plenty of reasons to smile." I contest. "Waking up healthy is one. Food is another— rotisserie chicken especially. Your dog, Caramel, is one of the cutest dogs in the neighborhood. And you're tall, like really tall. You never have to climb on top of the counter to reach the cereal. What's there not to smile about?"

When I look back at him, he's not facing me. My train of thought wanders away as I extend my neck to see his face, but I can't see it. The back of his hand, however, rests against his lips in a shabby attempt at hiding a... smile.

And then he returns his gaze to me, unable to hide it any longer. No, not when his laughter starts to bubble out.

"Really though," his laughter dies down. "Justin and I share a lot of similar qualities, it's why we're best friends." 

"Hmm?" My eyes roam his face, taking in every dimple and crease. "Like what?"

"Sharing is one. Neither of us like to share."

I laugh. "Justin's the most selfless person there is."

Grayson shakes his head, flipping through the files on Justin in his brain. "It's the selfless people that do things they don't like for the sake of others."

"I guess." He has a point. "So, you guys don't like to share?"

He looks at me and I feel unsteady even though I'm sitting down. His smile is gone now, replaced with a straight lips and eyes that don't know where to look. He looks to be full of strife, as if he's having a realization— and not a good one either.

"No, not when it's something only one of us can have." Grayson's eyes falter as they circle my face. He rubs a hand down the back of his neck. "What am I saying? I've never been able to have it in the first place."

"Grayson, what are you talking about? You two are best friends, surely if you talk about it you guys can figure it out." My voice is loud and I lower it when Justin's shoulder twitches.

"It's not that simple."

"Tell me what it is and maybe I can help."

"You can't."

"Not when you bring it up but then refuse to talk about it." I grumble.

"Talking about it makes it real. And it can't be real. I can't—" he shakes his head. "I've buried my feeling on it a long time ago. It's fine. If he wants it, he can go for it."

Before I can press him on the matter, the knob to the front door twists. As the old wood creaks open, Justin lifts his head from my shoulder with heavy eyelids. Grayson is up and starting towards the stairs before Violet even steps into the room.

But when she does, Grayson stops in his tracks, his hand resting on the railing of the staircase. Her eyes are painted red, her face is glossy with tears...

And a swollen bruise sits on top of her cheek.

*****