"Never let me drink again," Bailee groaned from the passenger seat of my car the next day. She had shades on, her hood up, and a frown on her face. Her dramatic hangover was funnier each minute we waited in Stella's driveway so we could go dress shopping.

"I'll be sure to give you that unheard advice next time you go to a party," I laughed, prompting her to roll her head over to me and glare. Outside of her window, I saw Stella exiting her house and waving at us. I got out so she could climb into the backseat, but she quickly took me into a hug.

"I missed you," she told me in the embrace and I finally realized I hadn't seen her in over a week. She pulled away. "We have so much to talk about."

Boy did I know.

After we ran through the entire mall and adjoined department stores for dresses, we had nearly collapsed in the food court—me from shuffling through eight stores, Bailee from her unresolved hangover, and Stella from dealing with the two of us after she had found her dress in the first store.

"I'm gonna go stand in that long line and get coffee. Want anything?" Bailee asked. Stella and I shared a look before Bailee grew impatient and left. Now we really shared a look.

"Was she drinking that much last night?" Stella laughed.

"I don't know. She was pretty wasted when I got there and I didn't stay long," I chuckled.

"Oh right, you left with Ryder," she said as if it wasn't trending in the Tyriette gossip mill.

"And Zander," I added in a hiss and then shifted in my seat. I saw her gulp. "Ryder was not himself last night."

"Well you have not seen party-mode Ryder, so—"

"That's not what I meant."

"Does it matter?" Stella asked. She leaned in. "Preston's dead and his guilt is making him do all of this, don't you get it? He's acting out for that and that only."

"I don't think so," I told her, hoping that somewhere she had an ounce of disbelief for Ryder's alleged transgression. But she scoffed incredulously and sat back on her chair with her arms crossed. "Tell me how you did it."

"Did what?"

"Handled Ryder—put up with him for seventeen years before I even got here. How'd you talk him off the ledge?" I wondered, desperately.

"I didn't," she answered as truly as possible. "There's no controlling Ryder. And whenever I thought I had, I came to find out that it was just Stormy messing with my mind so there's no luck in asking me." By now, I knew that Stella was still angry about the entire situation. Ryder had lied to her for years and she hadn't forgiven him. It didn't matter if he killed the boy who Bit her. "It wouldn't matter if I did have some ability to sway him because this is different. He killed someone."

I sat, honestly trying to convince myself that everyone was telling the truth in their straightforward belief of Preston's murder. But it was difficult and tearing me apart inside.

"What's going on?" Stella asked me.

"My mate killed his best friend. What would be wrong with me?" I retorted to her with the natural disdain my wolf would always carry over her. But Stella's glossed lips came slightly apart for either noting my reluctance or maybe my reference of what a 'mate' was.

"Something's wrong?" Bailee's voice asked and I was glad she didn't hear the sentence before. She set down three drinks on the table. "S'mores frap for you and a double chocolate chip one for you. I know they're your favorites and didn't know if y'all changed your minds," Bailee smiled kindly. I grabbed my cold drink after saying thanks and I cherished its ability to physically cool down my insides. "So what's wrong?"

Stella and I shared a look to somehow make up a lie.

"Wait. You guys weren't talking about boys were you?" Bailee whined and propped her head on her hand. Stella and I still said nothing. "Fine, since you don't want to talk about you and Ryder, I'll talk about me and Evan. I think were breaking up."

"What!?" Stella and I yelled. Just a few weeks ago she was saying she and Evan were gonna live in the moment and make it through whatever they had to as long as they believed they should be together! I know Evan had told me they had disagreements on colleges, but it couldn't be that bad, right?

"You two have been together since his family moved here," Stella reminded.

"I know."

"You're literally the only stable couple I know of in Tyriette," I added.

"I know," she rolled her eyes and then frowned. "Wait, what? No way."

"Yes way," Stella and I said together.

"I'm pretty sure you two have had the vote for 'High School Sweethearts' since freshman year," Stella notified.

"This isn't freshman year anymore," Bailee reminded.

"You're right," I nodded. "It's senior year. The year of fun and no worries if you took care of your shit the other three years—which you have. So what's the problem?"

"We're having differing opinions on colleges," she revealed what I already knew.

"You said that you two would make it no matter where you turn up," Stella recalled.

"Yeah well that was before he suggested I take a year off with him and this whole argument blew up in our faces because of our conflict of interests regarding our commitment to each other or our futures," she grumbled.

"They should be the same thing," I muttered.

"Why does he want to take a year off?"

"It's a long story," Bailee sighed, but intrigued my interest in Evan now. She was quick to change the subject though. "Okay, so that was my boy talk. What's yours? What's wrong?" she looked at me. I stammered, trying to find the right way to explain myself without enough to cause havoc or too little for her to start asking questions.

"Trevor and I are perfectly fine," Stella thankfully turned on her selfishness. "He's definitely not what I expected."

"You go from the town delinquent to the golden boy, find a beautiful dress at the first store, and you're glowing with happiness," Bailee narrowed her eyes. "I'm wallowing in self pity with a massive hang over, but I gotta hear this."

Bailee propped her other hand beneath her head as she listened to Stella go on and on about her new relationship with Trevor. He took her out on dates and checked on her and was a perfect gentleman that she always deserved. She mentioned how she found it cute how apprehensive and careful he was with her because he had never dated anyone before. He acted with precise etiquette and walked her to her door each time they got home and still asked politely to kiss her on the cheek. While he took their relationship slowly and romantically, Stella was beginning to want something faster and more passionate. But no one could tell her the reason he couldn't kiss her or invite her to meet his parents was because Trevor Versailles was a half-vampire with articulated reservations towards humans—no matter if he loved them or not.

"Ash? Ash?" I was being called as if I tuned out of ten minutes of praising Trevor.

"Yeah?"

"You and Ryder," Bailee named. "What's the deal? You two are happy and you've tamed the dragon of Tyriette. Then something happens. He snaps and ices you out. You kiss his brother. You get dropped off at school by very handsome man no one knows. You vanish for a week. And then Ryder's off the deep end...again...but yet you left the party with him and his brother that you allegedly kissed. What's the deal? You two were fine this summer, but now a month into the school year—"

I cut her off with a laugh and received crazy looks from the both of them. "You know, the first day of school when Ryder was absent I found him at my house having a break down because he didn't want this high school relationship thing..." I forged another laugh. "He was right. Things were simpler over the summer. Because now we've had to deal with his brother coming back and him losing his dad and his best friend and—"

"You're supposed to just be there for him," Stella interrupted as if she had a reason to completely switch up on whose side she was on. She sounded like Zander, but her standpoint was different because she was speaking from the perspective of a girl Ryder didn't choose.

"I am there for him and you of all people know that," I hissed at her. Time and time again, I was there for him. I had to be. I needed to be. When Bailee had given me a synopsis of everything that had happened since school started, I realized that our relationship was messed up all because Ryder was. It didn't matter about what our relationship status was or how anyone saw us because at the end of the day I was going to fight to fix whatever was broken inside of Ryder. But to the general public, no one could begin to know what that was. The problem was that Ryder had a habit and tendency to want to self-sabotage and self-destruct all while trying to make sure I was okay. But I had an equally large part of that because I let him destroy himself again and again. I looked over calmly at Bailee. "I love Ryder, he loves me. That's it. That's what's wrong."

***

As soon as I got home, I threw myself onto the bed and ignored whatever Cassandra said about me going out with the girls and whatever video-game talk Aaron and Andrew were yelling about. Seemingly as soon as I got comfortable, my phone was ringing and it was Ryder.

"Hey," I sighed, but scolded myself for it because I was tired of being asked what was wrong and it was the single most indicative sound that things weren't fine. 

"I'm sorry," Ryder greeted. He took it as frustration with him calling.

"Sorry. It's just been a long—"

"Not about you sighing," he chuckled in an interruption. "I'm not chastising you for sighing while greeting me. I think you deserve to be tired," he clarified, making me feel better about the fact that he hadn't seen it as a petty, disrespectful way to start a conversation. I only sighed once more. "I'm saying that I'm sorry for last night."

"Ryder—"

"I know you want an apology in person," he cut-in, making me truly think he was reading my mind and digging deeper into my desires at will.

"I want a lot of things," I mumbled.

"I know. And you're going to get them, I promise," he assured. "I just wanted to call to check up on you and see if I could come over maybe tomorrow so we can talk."

"I don't think that will be a good idea," I told him. Part of me wondered if I could trust to be in the same room as him—not because he had murdered someone, but also because the last time it was the two of us, we had sex. Maybe being confined with him wasn't the best thing.

"Oh um alright, that's fine. Whenever you're ready," he surrendered.

"Okay, well—"

"Can I just say something?" he asked before I would end the conversation. You can say that you didn't kill Preston and that everyone is making it up...

"Go ahead."

"You can make whatever decisions you want about us or your life or your future, but I'll still be here fighting for you," he began in the same calm state he had been speaking in. "If that means fighting my nature of who I am, then so be it. I need to try harder," I stayed silent. "I don't remember what I said or did last night, but I do remember you telling me to get my shit together and it was the wakeup call I needed so thank you. Again, I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

"It's not fine," he altered. "We'll talk, okay? Then it'll be fine...Now I have to go see if Zander will accept my apology—he wouldn't even look at me this morning so I don't think it'll go too well," he forged a regretful and breathy chuckle. "I'll talk to you later; I just wanted to check in. Love you. Bye."

He hung up before I could return the conclusion, but it left me in confusion. How was he so calm and passive about everything? Any normal person would be anxiously panicking to win over affections to try and forgive him for committing the ultimate sin that you couldn't take back. But he acted as if it was a minor issue that could be dusted off his shoulder.

It was yet another reason for my wolf to dig her heels in the ground and stick to the belief that he didn't kill Preston.