I woke up completely disoriented. I hadn't made it to my bed last night, so tired I stopped on the couch for a second, and now woke up with pain that tingled from my neck, across my shoulders, and down my back. I had my arm under my head as a pillow, and my feet dangling off the end. I turned and saw Gemma's feet inches from my face. She was lounging with a coffee and a face mask on, watching New Girl.

"Gemma, what the hell? What time is it?"

She nudged me in the nose with one of her toes and I screwed my face up. She laughed and sipped from her mug. She replied, "Five."

"You're not human," I muttered. I rolled off the sofa, taking the fluffy blue blanket that we use to cover the holes we dug into it when we were children, and wrapped it tightly around myself. Gemma grabbed her bowl of cereal off the coffee table and shovelled it into her mouth, dropping some straight onto her lap as she did so.

"Nice," I commented. She nodded in response with a full mouth. I padded across the carpet and into the kitchen, staring at the clock on the microwave for a full minute before I decide sleep was futile and I might as well just take a longer shower.

As I stood naked in the bathroom, the water already running, I found my eyes tracing the black writing that marked my arm. It was a messy scrawl that looked like I let my two-year-old cousin learn how to count on my skin. Did I want to text him? If I shower it off, that left me no option. At least if I saved it I could still decide later. I picked my phone up off the counter and typed it in quickly with the name "Cian CoffeeGuy", because I liked adding last names.

I sang obnoxiously loudly and out of tune in the shower to "Round and Round" by Arkells. Gemma stood outside the door and screamed back "Girl Talk Boys" to annoy the hell out of me because she knows how I felt about 5SOS.

This isn't the part where I say I hated boybands, it's the part where I admit my undying love for Luke for an entire year before I snapped back to my senses and moved to alt rock. We're not going to talk about it.

It became a scream-singing match from either side of the door until the hot water eventually ran out and I left the shower.

School was arguably less tolerable today than other days. Mi had been texting me non-stop since first and I was not prepared to answer yet. I probably should have before I was forced to face him at lunch, but I was never one for common conventions. On top of that, I had been late for the third time because despite Gemma being up at 5 AM, she still couldn't be in the car for 8.

I didn't like playing parent, but my parents travelled. A lot. Dad had work conferences all over the world for the insurance company he worked for, and Mom followed because she had quit her job a few months back and had been bored ever since. A few days here, a week or so there, then back home. Next month they were leaving for Aruba for the entire month for their 25th anniversary. Before the constant trips, they never spent much time together, so I think this was their way of making it up.

"Au revoir, à demain." I wasn't a French expert by any means; enough to understand a general concept, but after 8 years of French, even I knew that meant class was over. I groggily slid my books into a pile I could carry (not that I ever opened a single one of them).

I still refused to check my phone as I dumped my books into my locker and headed for the cafeteria. If I did, I was sure I wouldn't have gone to lunch.

In short, Miles wanted to start dealing ecstasy. Beatle said no. Miles was not happy.

All air exited my lungs in one huff as he pinned me to the wall of my bedroom. I ran one of my hands gently up and down his back, over his school shirt, while my other hand stayed fixed to the back of his neck, directing his lips to meet mine. It was a distracted kiss, because to Miles kisses didn't matter. They were just a hurdle on the way to the finish. I'm sure if he had it his way, we wouldn't kiss. I think he knew better than to think I would agree to that.

He tugged my shirt up halfway, letting his hands feel my stomach and then pop open the bottom on my pants and dip into the front. I slid my hand up to play with his hair, running my thumb in circles across his jaw.

I always seemed to go numb with Miles. None of it felt like it was really happening. My brain never had time to catch up with body, and I wasn't sure I wanted it to either. I didn't register the feeling of his hands on me. My entire body was thrown into overdrive. My actions were free of thought or contemplation, all just the logical progression of movements.

Miles stepped back and pulled his shirt off without any indication from me. I didn't say anything as I stared at the boy in front of me, so devoid of his usual fear or misdirected anger.

I drew him back to reconnect our lips as his hands slunk down my body and dived back into my pants. I left his lips to leave a trail of kisses down his neck before running my tongue down from his collar bone to his belly button. There was a sharp intake of air and I peered up to see him with his eyes shut and head slightly back. I knew what he liked; we'd been doing this long enough.

He tugged at the button on his pants with such urgency it seemed he would rip it straight off if it didn't undo in less than three seconds. Once his were undone, he pulled on mine.

It was just sex. There was nothing passionate or magical about it; just two hormonal boys and one messy conclusion. He didn't hold me when it was over. He didn't caress me and whisper sweet nothings. He scoured the ground for his clothes and I did the same.

"Bailey?"

The voice rung down from the main floor and I froze. I still hadn't located my boxers so I just grabbed sweatpants from a basket of clean laundry off in the corner, quickly tugging them on. "Shit."

"I thought you said she was at lacrosse practice," Miles hissed, dragging his school shirt back over his head even though I had offered him one of my shirts.

I heard the sound of her bag dropping to the hardwood floor and her footsteps echoing down the hallway.

"That's what she told me," I replied.

"Are you home?" Gemma called out again.

"I'll be up in a sec!"

I turned to Miles, both of us now dressed and staring at each other awkwardly. The awkwardness never seemed to fade no matter how many times we did this. Probably because he just wanted to bolt and I wanted to hold him until the next morning. "You can stay for dinner, if you want. My parents aren't back until Thursday."

Miles shook his head and grabbed his backpack from where he had dropped it earlier. "Can't. Mum will be expecting me."

We both knew it was a lie, but I decided not to comment on it. His mom would be passed out on the sofa, three pills south of a stopped heart.

"Yeah, okay. I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Did I ever.

As I found out, before Miles turned up in my bedroom, he decided to do a run, using Lake to carry the drugs. Forcing, rather. But I didn't learn this until lunch the next day.

"I seriously think I could fuck her," Trick muttered, his eyes tracing Debi Corlen's ass from the caf line back to her table. I'd admit she had an amazing body, like an almost-too-good-to-be-true-body, which was exactly why Trick had no chance with her.

"Not in this lifetime, friend," I replied, shoveling strawberry banana yoghurt into my mouth. I spotted Miles walking in dejectedly from the other side of the cafeteria. Lake and Beatle had yet to show up.

"Well, I mean, like I could... but it wouldn't be consensual."

I laughed a little, nearly choking on my food. Trick shrugged with a smug smile, his eyes casting over another girl.

"Do you think she's in our grade?"

"She's in Grade 9."

"Shit."

Miles flopped down in the seat next to me, laying his head on his hand and closing his eyes. A few seconds later, Beatle was storming between the tables, until finally landing in front of Miles and slamming his hand down to gain his attention.

"I have half a mind to kick your ass."

Miles turned towards Lake with an evil glare. He snarled, "you told him?"

Beatle gave a speech I ignored, choosing instead to look at Trick confused face. Beatle acknowledged that what we were doing wasn't exactly the safest thing ever and that it would probably be good to lay low, making sure to accentuate the fact that Miles had fucked up majorly.

Two guys with control issues. I was surprised they didn't just pull out their dicks and measure them right there.

Instead of admitting his mistake (as if), the gears starting turning in Mi's head. He started to figure out why Beatle was always so concerned about Lake, and why Beatle couldn't have given half a shit if it had been anyone else.

"Holy Christ, you have a crush on the fairy! You're a fucking faggot!" Miles cried, seemingly horrified.

Yet, last night when he had his dick inside of me, another man, that was strictly no homo.

My amusement subsided quickly as Miles took a hold of Lake, threatening to hurt him. I'd never seen Miles hurt anyone. Maybe because I'd never really seen him like that. It wasn't anger; it was resentment, possibly even jealousy.