There were many different branches of psychology.

Psychology wasn't just mental illness, the processes of the brain, or preparing to be some sort of therapist. There were different branches with different subcategories that focused on so many different aspects. Today, my psychology lecture was focused on one particular topic: abnormal psychology.

Abnormal psychology basically observed and studied the actions of people who acted abnormally. People who stood out in social groups, or who couldn't cope with the demands of their everyday lives. While this wasn't directly correlated to mental illness, it is used to identify what is normal and idea and what deviates from that.

"All right, guys," my professor called, clapping his hands to get our attention. He grabbed a stack of papers off his desk and handed them to the first row of students, "Get into groups of two. You're going to read the examples on the worksheet and decide if and why the behavior shown deviates from normal and could be considered abnormal."

Before I could say anything, Cara pulled her desk up next to me and dropped a paper on my desk. I sighed and leaned back, picking the worksheet up and quickly scanning it. Twenty problems wasn't too bad, in all reality, but I just really, really didn't feel like doing anything.

It had been two days since Grant was over my apartment. Griffin was constantly in-and-out between that time (I wasn't even sure if Grant ever got a chance to talk to him), which meant that I barely got to talk to Griffin. I didn't get to talk to him about what went down at Officer Gudkova's house, which was something that still bothered me immensely.

Cara held up her paper and squinted at the words, shooting me a small smile, "Okay, number one," she said, clearing her throat dramatically, "Ian constantly gets worked about his own thoughts and behaviors. and receives anxiety from these thoughts. He believes that someone may be out to get him. Often, Ian feels worrisome or concerned about the fact that he feels this way. Would you classify this as personal distress, typical behavior, or something else entirely?"

Cara read the little footnotes around the paragraph, but I frowned, thinking about what she had just read. Ian's behavior didn't seem all that out there, which just bothered me even more because, just by the way it was worded, I knew it was the first answer choice. Ian's behavior just reminded me of someone else, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Totally personal distress," Cara said, circling that answer choice and then looking at me for affirmation. I nodded, "Oh, by the way, you never told me how it went when Grant came over."

I gently took the paper out of Cara's hand and skimmed over question two, "It was a little awkward, but not bad. He's such a nice guy and I feel so bad for him. Griffin is so cold to him, it's terrible to watch."

Cara quirked an eyebrow, "Griffin's a dick to his brother?"

"Kind of," I said, feeling guilt wash over me when I said. Griffin had rushed to my apartment for a ride to make sure his brother was okay after his car accident, but still, "He's never at his apartment when Grant comes to see him and, when he is there, he's so rude. He acts like Grant's more of a burden than a brother."

Cara tapped her fingers on the edge of her desk, eyes narrowing slightly, "Griffin's older, right?" she asked, and I nodded, "He probably took care of Grant when they were younger, after their mom was killed. Maybe Griffin just wants freedom from it all."

"That's kind of the thing," I said, thinking about a theory I had developed the day Grant came to see me. I paused, a bit hesitant to say anything. I had developed a close friendship with Griffin, and it almost felt wrong saying this behind his back, "I don't really think Griffin or their dad paid attention to Grant. It seems like he's been on his own or, like, isolated from the two of them. I think Griffin was coping on his own and just... Ignored Grant, maybe."

Cara just stared at me, lips pursing into a tight line, "You're really invested in the two of them, huh?"

Instead of answering, I just brought the paper closer to my eyes and read number two.

Carl has just gotten kicked out of his apartment and has nowhere to stay. He believes he is developing anxiety over the situation, as he has turned to cracking his knuckles, biting the skin inside of his mouth, and avoiding his homeless problem. Carl refuses to acknowledge the fact that he is homeless and, when asked about his situation, refuses to answer. Is Carl dealing with anxiety, maladaptive behavior, or something/nothing else entirely?

"Maladaptive, definitely," Cara said, gently reaching around me to circle the answer, "Anxiety wouldn't manifest into him refusing to acknowledge the situation. Right?"

Cara was talking, but my mind was racing a thousand miles an hour. The first example had piqued something in the back of my mind, but I wasn't able to put my finger on it. But the second example had made the thought rise to the front of my mind - the example of cracking knuckles had made an image flash through my mind.

Griffin Cutkosky.

The first example reminded me of Griffin, it had just taken me a few minutes to piece together why. In the example, Ian suffered anxiety over believing someone had a hidden agenda after him and then felt guilty and ridiculous when he processed those thoughts. Griffin thought someone was breaking into his apartment and, occasionally, when I would ask him about it, he wouldn't want to talk about it. Almost like he felt guilty about those thoughts.

In the second example, Carl had maladaptive behavior which had manifested itself into repetitive actions and a refusal to acknowledge a situation. While Griffin fully acknowledged his situations, he always cracked his knuckles and drummed his fingers. It didn't matter where we were or what we were doing - Griffin was always jittery, moving his hands around.

Cara waved her fingers in front of my face and snapped a couple of times, "Emmy?" she asked quietly, voice laced with concern, "Are you all right?"

"You're gonna think I'm crazy," I mumbled, desperate to put my thoughts out on the table. I needed Cara to listen to them, even if it was only for her to laugh at me and debunk my thoughts quickly, "but just listen."

I paused, trying to figure out how exactly I was going to say this. I was in the middle of my psychology class, two problems into a twenty-questioned packet, and I was focused on Griffin Cutkosky. He seemed to be the only place my mind went anymore, and, in this type of situation, I hated that fact. I didn't want to be questioning Griffin's character, but I couldn't help it.

I explained it quickly to Cara, voicing exactly what I had thought - that Griffin did some of the same things as the people in the examples. I knew they could have just been pure coincidences, especially the knuckle-cracking in the second one, but I couldn't help it. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if Griffin's behavior was abnormal.

"I'm not sure," I finally concluded, avoiding Cara's gaze as I spoke, "I've never really thought Griffin's behavior was abnormal, but maybe I'm just used to it."

In a level and calm voice, Cara quietly said, "Look at it like this, Emmy. Griffin's mom was brutally murdered in his house and they never found the killer - never found the person who was in his house and murdered his mom. He grew up probably feeling like an outsider and now, finally, when Griffin got out and into his own apartment, the police come back and say they have new evidence. And for the past few months, that's gotten him nowhere. Honestly, I think it would be abnormal if Griffin seemed fine after all of this."

I took a deep breath and folded my hands and rested my chin on them, eyes locked on the board at the front of the classroom. I knew I was being dumb by trying to fit someone like Griffin into a simple, psychology example. In the examples the symptoms were always listed, giving a one-dimensional person only one possible answer.

But this was real life and Griffin wasn't a one-dimensional person.

I couldn't just stick him in a psychology example because he didn't fit. Sure, Griffin definitely had anxiety issues, but his mother had also been murdered in his house while he was home. Griffin had to grow up with a dad who - from the time I met him - seemed distant and a brother who probably was too young to truly grasp the situation. And once Griffin had finally gotten away, he got dragged back with the promise of new evidence.

Guilt washed over me again, this time more powerful, washing my body in shame. Griffin was dealing with so much right now, and I was sitting in class, questioning his behavior and action. I was doubting the guy who had been, for the most part, nothing but nice to me. I was questioning why Griffin seemed so anxious, without taking into account the events that had only recently happened to him.

"Yeah," I agreed, closing my eyes, "yeah, you're right. I just need a break."

"Yeah," Cara agreed, gently rubbing my back, "you need to take a step back. And I'll be here for you when you do, okay? It's all going to be fine, Emmy."

I just folded my arms and put my head down.

"Emmy!" Griffin's voice hit me the second I stepped into the hallway, "Thank God you're back, I need to talk to you."

I slowly turned to Griffin, psychology textbook held tightly in my hand. I had left after my psychology lecture, opting to skip out on my math class. I was exhausted, my mind was racing, and I was overwhelmed with guilt. The last thing I wanted to do was sit in another hour-and-a-half lecture and listen to my professor talk on and on.

I looked up at Griffin, eyes locking onto his intense blue ones, "Sure. What's up?"

Griffin tugged up the plaid pajama bottoms he was wearing and cleared his throat, an uncomfortable expression taking place on his face, "I'm sorry if this is awkward for you, but I'm just gonna go for it," he said, and then blurted out: "My dad wants to have Grant and I over for dinner tomorrow night, but I really don't want to go alone. I was wondering if you would go with me? Just as friends, I promise."

I blinked in surprise, taking in what Griffin had said. He was inviting me to a dinner with his family and that was enough to make me blink again in surprise. As open as Griffin had been to me - asking me to go everywhere with him - he seemed a bit private when it came to his family. Griffin never spoke to me about his father, so it was surprising that he was inviting me to a dinner with him.

Cara's words rang through my mind: you need to take a step back. I knew that she was right and that I needed to distance myself from Griffin and his entire situation, but I couldn't help it. I was too curious for my own good, and, if I went to the dinner with Griffin, I would be able to see how he and his family acted together.

Plus, Griffin looked genuinely desperate and nervous. He looked like he was honestly nervous to go to this dinner by himself, so how could I possibly say no to him? How could I say no when Griffin had asked me because, for some reason, he felt like he'd be more comfortable if I went too?

"I'll go," I agreed, already planning how tomorrow would go. On the drive to his dad's house, I would finally be able to talk to Griffin about what happened at Ruslan's house, "Are you sure your dad will be okay with it?"

Griffin smiled at me, "Thank you so much, Emmy," he said, ignoring the question I had asked him, "I'm so grateful that you're doing this for me. Really, I owe you so much."

"It's no problem. Just let me know the time and everything before, please."

Griffin grinned and nodded, relief washing through his features, "You're a life saver."

</ so this chapter was kinda hard to write, so i'm sorry if it seems choppy at some parts! i'm so excited for the next chapter, though - we could to see the dynamic between all of the cutkosky guys! any two particular you're excited to see? (griffin/his dad, grant/his dad, etc.)

remember to let me know your thoughts! tysm i love you all :)