The moment flashed back. The room was no more and I only saw Adam's face as he stalked towards me in that hallway. The picture shifted. Now it was his eyes. His eyes gazing at me at that party. They were so dark with... lust? Anger? Both?

I shivered and brought myself back to the present. I was on the couch, with my legs draped over Mike's and with both of them staring at me.

I should have responded instead of staying silent and gazing into thin air.

"Um." I moved a cushion under my back. "I-I don't know. We don't know each other."

It was true. I wasn't lying. Evading the whole truth, yes, but not lying. That was okay, right?

"Liar." Mike snatched the last cookie from the box. With horror shooting up into me, I watched his teeth tear into the last cookie and eat it. I was going to kill him.

I didn't even get to object before Maya opened her big mouth.

"Adam?" she said. "The guy we met at Dannie's? Did you know him?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't know him." I pulled my legs from Mike and stood. I ran a hand through my hair. "I'm going to make some food. Anyone want pasta?"

Mike's eyes found mine. Two dark eyebrows were drawn down and his steely gaze narrowed at me. Stop looking at me like that, I wanted to say, but the words didn't come out. Instead, I hid behind my cheery mask and smiled at him.

He opened his mouth to say something, a stern expression on his face. He wasn't going to let this go.

However, Maya interrupted with a loud snort. I slipped my gaze to her amused face and for the first time, I was grateful for her talent to interrupt and neglect the tension in the air.

Maya crossed her arms over her chest as she rose an eyebrow in my direction. Still, she directed her words towards Mike. "I wouldn't eat a piece of what she cooks. She even manages to fuck up pasta when you turn your back. Not really wifey material if you ask me."

Provided with the distraction of my best friend, I could leave the prison of Mike's gaze. My feet sped over the floor and soon enough, I reached destination kitchen.

I pulled out a pot, put it on the stove, and poured in water. I almost ribbed the entire package of pasta as I got ready to spill them in.

Emotions such as sadness, regret, and fright were emotions I shoved back down. It was easier to be angry. It somehow made things less painful. So instead of focusing on how humiliated I still was about Adam, I choose to be angry at Mike. He couldn't just come into my house, shatter my plans with Maya and then tell me I was a liar.

But you are a liar.

Shut the fuck up brain.

I moved around until I could do no more than stand by, watching the minutes go down.

His footsteps came into earshot before he even opened his mouth. Of course, it could have been Maya, but she wouldn't be as silent as he was.

I held my breath, waiting. Waiting for something I didn't know what was.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

I stirred the pasta with a fork. Steam seeped into my pores with a boiling heat. Sometimes I wondered if standing with my head over the pot would save me a trip to the salon.

With a sigh I readied myself. "No."

Yeah, I may or may not like Mike as more than a friend and tutor, but this new... thing was still very new. Our relationship beforehand hadn't even been a friendship if I dare say so. It was a weird blend of attraction, distaste, comfort, and need.

God damn it, it may still be.

Where we in a relationship or would we soon go back to ignoring and throwing insults at each other? I wasn't sure if I could.

Mike came to stand beside me, but far enough away so we didn't accidentally touch each other. His stare burned into me. I didn't dare lift my gaze to meet his.

"Your friend is crazy," he said, his voice flat and without the humor, I had expected. Still, I chuckled, my grip on the fork loosening.

"Yeah, she is." I nodded my head as if to give the words more power.

Mike didn't say anything, which meant I leaped to the chance at filling out the silence. "Do you remember that night? The night where I climbed a tree in your backyard, watching you through your window. Then I fell, tried fleeing, but ran right into you." I tried to stop myself. This was embarrassing, but I couldn't stop. "But still, you let us stay at your house and you didn't get mad. You may have pissed me off by that little stunt in the kitchen, but you still helped. And it was after an argument with Maya. Adam wasn't that nice after I argued with Maya."

"What do you mean?"

I turned my back to him, staring at the pasta like it was molding into pink fucking stardust. What was I supposed to say? I'd told myself that this was a secret only for me and Hamilton. It was easier to overlook if you didn't have to face it.

"Nothing." I turned off the stove, knowing full well there wasn't anyone who wanted pasta. Or maybe Maya did, but she could make her damn own.

"Why won't you tell me?"

Why won't you drop the fucking subject.

I sighed. "I have nothing to say. I just don't like the dude."

"Why?" The words were spoken through gritted teeth. I turned to look at him. He didn't exactly look happy, but what did I know. Either he was a stone-hard wall of nothing or he was some form of mad. Nothing in between and nothing more. Damn him.

"You should go if you're just here to interrogate me. I don't have the patience for that." I didn't know why, but as I said the words, I pivoted on my heels. Our eyes locked. Blueish green eyes challenged my brown ones.

Challenge accepted.

With a single stride, I moved closer, not letting my gaze fall.

"So," I said, moving my chin up a little further. "Are you going to leave or stay?"

He tilted his head, the faintest of a smile on his lips. With an elegant stride, he was one step closer. "You tell me."

"I asked you a question, bro." I poked him in the chest with my index finger. My eyes narrowed into slits. This guy was unbelievable.

And I liked it.

Dark flickered in his eyes. He snatched my hand, curling his finger around my flesh. With a yank, he brought it down and pulled me flush against him.

Oh. Fucking. Shit.

My cheeks flared, a heat spreading through them and spreading down my neck, over my chest, along my stomach right towards- no! No fucking way.

"Did you just call me bro?" he asked, his tone leveled and controlled.

"Yes." I nodded my head as if it could strengthen the meaning in the word.

"Do your other bros do this?" Before I could even think, he dipped his head. A beautiful pair of lips parted, ready to consume me.

Yet, before he could get close enough, I let out the words I knew would stop him. "Adam tried something with me and he couldn't understand no. That's why I called for you to come and pick me up. That's why I don't like him okay."

I pushed away from him, tumbling a few steps away. His cold expression smoldered and I was left with a very confused, very mad boy. He couldn't keep his eyes off my face, not even when a single tear rolled down my cheek.

There. There it was. Everything was out in the open. This was no longer a secret between Hamilton and I. And, to my biggest regret and relief, it wasn't Mike who opened his mouth first. It was Maya.

"Holy shit," she said. "Holy motherfucker shit."

She went around the kitchen island, hands gliding along the edges. Her eyes landed on me, then her raging eyes ended on Mike. Four words left her mouth. "Your car or mine?"

My gaze flickered between the two of them. There was some psychic bond going on. Both their minds occupied by the same thought.

Mike growled or was it a snarl? Well, no matter what it was, he lifted his keys from his pocket. "Mine."

A smirk speaking of evil spread over Maya's features. For a moment, I was stunned, but I knew that if it had been the other way around, I would be halfway out the door by now.

Mike grabbed my wrist, not painfully, but firmly. We moved towards the door.

Behind us, Maya jumped around. I peeped over my shoulder, still not having the slightest idea of what was happening. Why were they rushing out the door?

We all hurried outside and towards Mike's car. I was shoved onto the passenger seat. "Stop. Wait. Hold up." My protest was overhead.

Mike shut the door, leaning towards Maya. "You find out where to," he said just loud enough for me to hear.

Maya nodded her head, her hair bouncing around her face. "I got it, buddy." She patted his back. Actually patted his back. Somehow, they'd become friends in less than a minute. This was getting stranger and stranger. I wasn't sure if I should cry or laugh.

Maya opened the door to the back but halted. Her eyes widened. "Hold up," she said, stepping away from the door. Mike stopped too, looking at her with a strange expression. "Let me bring a frying pan."

My jaw hit the floor, my eyes fell out of their sockets. A fucking frying pan? She must be crazy.

However, true to her words, she came running out of the house a minute later with a large frying pan tucked under her arm. In her hands, she held her phone and typed away.

Inside the car, my friend and kind-of-not-really-boyfriend shared a look. The engine roared to life and Mike pulled out on the road. Was no one going to tell me what the heck we were doing?

I turned to Maya, she seemed like the mastermind and she was the one with the pan. "What's going on?" I asked, my eyes scanning her up and down. Like me, she was still dressed like we were on our way to a slumber party. I tugged at the hem of my shorts, my legs a bit too bare.

"We're going to kick some ass," Maya said, her voice calm and lacking every form of humor. This bitch was angry.

I drew down my brows. "What do you mean?"

"Trust me, that douchebag is going down." She waved the frying pan. "My first instinct was to throw Mike out, find about four tubes of ice cream and then throw shoes at Adam or something." She gulped in a large amount of air. "Then I looked at your boyfriend over there and was like - hey, let's beat the shit out of the fucker and be badasses instead of fat asses."

She seemed very pleased with that message.

"This isn't going to end well," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "That's very optimistic."