I get back to my dorm, defeated and exhausted. Not only had Bradley just found about me going back to the cafe to investigate, but I had also put our newfound friendship in jeopardy. His deflated character and hurt words still replay in my head from moments before.

"I can't believe I trusted you. I-I can't believe I let you into my life- I can't believe I thought you'd be the only honest person in my life."

"I thought you were different, and you just turned out to be a hypocrite, huh?"

"I'm not angry, I'm disappointed."

Sighing tiredly, I flop onto my bed and am horrified that I'm immediately comforted by the scent of Bradley's bedbug spray. I sit up, fiddling with the Velcro straps of my knee brace, and stare at the door.

As if on cue, Bradley enters, his gait a little brisker as he sees I'm in here. I watch as he lays down on his bed and faces away from me, his back rising and falling rapidly. A part of me wants to go over there and comfort him, but I know he'll just push me away. 

"Bradley..." I begin to say before he cuts me off.

"Why can't you just mind your own business?" he asks, his voice wavering a bit.

He's... crying?

I hobble over to him, sitting on the edge of his bed. He doesn't turn to look at me; instead, he takes his hand and loops his finger in my belt loop, as if to make sure I don't run off. Exhaling sharply, I twist a loose thread on his green sweater around my own finger.

My voice sounds small and quiet as I speak. "Please... look at me."

"I can't let you see my face," he responds, his own voice as weak as mine.

"You know," I say after a few seconds, "you don't have to be afraid of being vulnerable around me."

Bradley's breath escapes his mouth in a tired sigh. "I already told you. My father-"

I shake my head and interrupt him. "It doesn't matter what he 'said'. You can still protect yourself in this world, even if you show emotion from time to time. My dad didn't have the best home life or the wealthiest family, but he didn't push through by ignoring his emotions- I look at where he is today, proud and respectful of him."

"That's because he's Goofy Goof. You could run him over with a semi-truck, and he'd say thank you." Bradley's tone tells me he doesn't mean it, but I can't help but laugh.

"True, but you're Bradley Uppercrust, man. You can do anything you set your mind to. You've got the highest GPA in the university! You're even richer than-"

"The Third."

I blink, confused. "The Third?"

By some miracle, he decides to turn and face me. "I'm Bradley Uppercrust the Third."

"Er... right." I laugh and grasp the hand attached to my belt loop. "Anyway, you're amazing."

He sits up, smoothing the back of his brown hair. "Just for the record, I don't forgive you, but we're good for now."

I smile, feeling less tired than before. "Thank you for a second chance."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy about it. You seem to do that a lot."

~*~*~

I walk across campus, crutches under my arms as I look around for PJ and Bobby. I turn to look to my left, and I collide into a brick wall- my bad, I collide into Tank. He turns around with a menacing glare, but it drops as soon as he sees me. 

"Goof," he says in greeting. 

For some reason, I don't like the way he calls me Goof but brush it off. "Hey, Tank."

"Crutches?" he inquires as his gaze travels down to my knee brace.

I nod, shifting to a more comfortable position against the metal supports. "Knee sprain."

"What brings you here?"

"Just looking for my friends," I say with a nervous laugh. "By the way, do you know what's going with Bradley at all...?"

Tank shrugs stiffly and points to Brewtiful Day. "I heard he's involved in some sort of stuff in that there cafe."

I nod, urging him to go on. "I've noticed..."

"Word on campus is that he's selling an illegal substance to students here," he says gruffly, "I guess he'll do anything for money these days."

"Money?" I ask in confusion. Wasn't he already rich?

Tanks glances at the cafe then back at me. "Haven't heard? Apparently, his parents cut him off so that they'd have more money to themselves. That's why he can't move out of his car into an apartment."

Oh... so, he doesn't know Bradley lives with me now.

"It's nice to see him suffer for his actions," he remarks cheerfully.

"Tank," I say suddenly, "if I ask you about what happened a while ago where I found you 'hanging around' Bradley, will you tell me the truth?"

He inhales sharply before speaking once more. "No. It's none of your business."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. It's 'Gamma Business'." I sigh in defeat, running a hand through my hair.

"Run along," he says, obviously not meaning to be rude but sounding scary enough to the point of just giving him a nod and scampering off.

I glance around the courtyard in search of my friends, but they don't seem to be here. It's strange because I could've sworn I got a call from PJ that told me to come meet them here. Shaking off the weird feeling, I decide to head back to the dorm.

"Wait!" a voice calls out behind me.

I turn around to spot Nico running up to me. "Uh... hey, Nico."

He catches up and crosses him arms as he widens his stance. "I need to talk to about something important."

"Whatever, have you seen my friends around, the dumbasses I hang out with all the time?"

"No need for that," he says with his hand raised. "I'm the one who called to here because I felt that I needed to explain myself, but... yeah, I know you were the one spying on me."

"What?" I say, dragging the word out. "No way, why would I sneak in and get tangled up in the curtain then bring it back to my dorm and act like nothing happened?"

The raise of his brow tells me he knows I'm lying. 

Damn my terrible lying skills.

"Look," he says with a small gesture of his hands, "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but... Bradley's got some stuff going on. Serious stuff with the Gamma Mu Mu house. That's the only reason he's selling weed with me- goes for some pretty good money, better money than you can make as a college student at a part-time job."

"Weed?" I say, my voice just barely escaping my lips.

Nico seems to notice his mistake and tries to backtrack. "You know, herbs and vegetables from our garden behind the cafe."

I roll my eyes, folding my arms. "I may not be a good liar, but I know when I see a fabulist, and you, sir, are a fabulist."

"Fabulist?" Nico asks slowly.

I look away from him, grumbling. "Shut up, it's a word Bradley taught me."

"Don't tell him you heard about that whole weed thing" he says with a pleading look.

"You know I can't do that."

Nico sighs after I say that, defeated. "Fine, just don't tell him that I'm the one who told you."

I don't say anything, stalking away as fast as I can on crutches in pure shock and confusion. Why would Bradley need all that money, and why would he resort to selling marijuana? I'd understand if he needed to pay the bills, but he's living with me now- why is he still involved in that? I'll get the answers out of him, no matter what it takes.

Approaching the door of our dorm, my hand hesitantly reaches toward the knob. Am I willing to destroy what we have now- a tolerable understanding of each other- or is it not worth the risk? Pushing aside my conflicting emotions, I push open the door.

Standing there with just a towel around his waist and water rolling down his toned back is Bradley, oblivious to my presence.

I step nervously into the room, averting my eyes from his half-naked form and internally shaming myself for even get flustered at the sight of him. 

"Oh, hey, Goof."

I jump a bit, and his eyes dart between me and the rest of the room in a patient way, waiting for me to speak. He runs a hand through his damp, chestnut brown hair, and white towel around his feminine hips sways at the sudden movement of his body. Swallowing, I begin to speak in a strangely strained voice.

"I ran into Nico today," I say awkwardly as he sifts through his dresser for an outfit. "Well, he actually called me over."

He tenses a bit then goes back to his search. "Yeah? What'd he want?"

"He told me he knew about me being the one who crashed into storage room."

"I told him," Bradley says quietly, finally deciding newest colored sweater. It's a light blue, which compliments his complexion. It's knitted of nice yarn and looks like it's made for his annoyingly perfect body. He pulls a white button-up and dressy pants out of the dresser as well and beelines for the bathroom. He cracks the door behind him, leaving just enough room for him to still hear me. 

Hobbling back from the bathroom area out of respect, I clear my throat and speak again. "I didn't find out what was going on when it happened, but... Nico told me. On accident, of course."

There's no answer for a few moments, then Bradley steps out in his amazingly put-together outfit. For a straight man, he does have a good sense of a fashion. It's admirable, really.

He straightens his cuffs to perfection. "I thought you already knew when I found out about you ripping the curtain from the curtain rod. By the way, we need that back. Otherwise, it's going to come out of my paycheck."

"How are you so calm about this?" I ask, gaping.

Before he can answer, there's a knock on the door. Bradley looks me over judgmentally then rushes over to open it. 

Tank looms over Bradley, who suddenly seems anxious.

What the hell is going on?