"I need to go to the store," Jem informed, peeping his head into my room as I did homework.

"Well I think Veronica's still here, so she can take you," I told him.

"But Angieeeeeeeee," he complained. I looked up at him  in question. "You know that all she's going to talk about is the stupid wedding."

"She's just excited," I defended. After all, the wedding is in two and a half days.

"Please," he begged.

"Jem, I said no. Can't you see that I'm busy?" I asked him.

"Fine. I'll just ask your friend to take me," he muttered and then started to walk out in a slum. Friend?

"What friend?" I asked, sitting up on my bed in concern.

"The one downstairs with the motorcycle," he answered from down the hall. My eyes widened. I immediately got up and looked to my window to see Dastan mounted on his bike, looking down at his phone.

 I marched downstairs.

"What are you doing here?" I nearly shouted at Dastan when I approached him on the sidewalk. He looked over to me with his Aviator glasses that shaded his eyes.

"We need to talk," he said.

"We had that chance and you didn't show up, and then again, and you didn't show up at school, and when we finally talk, you're telling me that I'm worthless to you only to turn around and apologize," I replied. "Yet you still have something to say?"

"Clearly."

"Go home," I demanded. He removed his sunglasses and looked at me with dark, hard eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'go home'—"

"What suddenly makes you think that you can order me around?" he hissed, somehow gaining speed to pin me between him and the nearest thin tree. I was scared staring into his onyx eyes. Suddenly, they lightened and then the curves in his face stretched as he smiled for once. Some sort of noise even emitted from him. Was that...laughter?

"Go home," I repeated from earlier. His smile dropped when he realized I was serious.

"What?"

Although I loved to see this fun, younger side to Dastan, he didn't understand that I didn't want to constantly be confused with his mood swings. It's either we're friends or not. It's either he's nice or not. It's either...he's the Proliator or not.

At this point...he's just not.

"Go home," I muttered, stepping away from him. Suddenly, he appeared between me and the door. His eyebrows were connected with dark, cold eyes. Instead of the smile curves, they were now worried wrinkles.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as if he cared.

"I can't tell you," I replied, practicing what he preached. His face hardened.

"Stop it," he whispered.

"Stop what?" I asked innocently with a flutter of my eyelashes. He only blinked once. I stepped near him to get my message across. "Until you start being real with me and answering my questions, I can't give you that courtesy from me."

He didn't do or say anything. He only watched me intensely as I backed up. I ran into someone and looked to see Jem. Great.

"Hey D! What's up?" Jem greeted to Dastan. 

"Jem, go inside," I told him.

"But I wanna talk to D and I still need to go to the store," he whined.

"Jem. Go back upstairs and ask Veronica for money and the keys, then I'll take you out," I compromised.

"You need to go to the store?" Dastan asked before Jem could complain once more.

"Yeah. I need to get my friend something, but Angie is being mean by not taking me—"

"I can take you," Dastan offered, gesturing to his bike.

"Ha. Yeah right," I scoffed. "I barely really know you and Jem barely knows your name. He's not gonna get on a freaking motorcycle with you!"

"Fine. I'll take him in my truck," he shrugged. I shook my head.

"But what if Veronica says I can go?" Jem asked. Of course she would. She has absolutely no real maternal instincts for treating Jeremy like the pre-teen he really was.

"I don't really care if she does," I answered. He crossed his arms and pouted. "You are not going to the store with Dastan!"

"Angie, please—"

"I said no."

"All I wanted was to get my friend Sarah a birthday and Thanksgiving present!" Jem said. Before I could deny him once more, he added more speech. "But thank you, Angela, for being such a bratty bitch!"

Jem and I argued a lot, but it was never this deep or pointed. I had never heard him use that word before. Especially not towards me. It almost brought me to tears. A stupid trip to the store was really enough to cause us to fight?

"Don't talk to your sister like that," Dastan told him protectively right before Jem ran away from us. I stared after him, surprised that my eleven-year-old brother just called me a bitch for protecting him...protecting him from Dastan. I looked at him now.

"Everything you do to me just makes something else worse," I accused before leaving him.

***

Thursday morning, I woke up with only one thing on my mind which was surprising because I had pushed it away for a good while: Hayden.

I didn't need to worry about Dastan or the Proliator. Hayden texted me yesterday because he knew I was in a bad mood from school yet he still managed to cheer me up. For the first time, I was wishing he was the Proliator even though all signs pointed away from him.

I stepped out of my room and immediately felt small arms around my waist. I looked down and saw a mess of hair belonging to Jeremy.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized, mumbling into my side. "I love what you did. You didn't deserve me calling you a bitch. Thank you, Angela."

I really didn't know what he was talking about. All I knew was that he left twenty minutes later with a backpack on his back, breakfast hanging out of his mouth, and a large pink and purple birthday bag in his hand.

"I'll be there in ten minutes," Hayden's voice rang from my phone another thirty minutes later. I was surprised that he was actually talking to me through the phone.

"You texted me that ten minutes ago," I reminded.

"That was before I forgot something at home...and you know New York traffic," he groaned. "I'll be there in ten minutes if I don't get stuck in more traffic."

"Okie dokie," I smiled, even though school didn't start for another thirty minutes.

"Oh and Angela?" he asked. I hummed a response. "Good morning, beautiful."

My heart swelled at his compliment and the fact that I heard it through the phone for once and not in a text. Our conversation lasted a moment longer before we hung up and I planned to go downstairs and wait in the warm lobby. That was, until, I saw a familiar boy parked outside with his perfect little Harley.

"Did I not make it clear to you yesterday when I—"

"I hope Sarah likes the gift that you bought for Jeremy to give to her," he interrupted. It was him. Again, giving me credit. 

"Why do you always do this?" I hissed. "You did it with the article and then the pictures and now you bring my brother into your little game—"

"He likes her," he cut-off. What? "I may not understand you, but I know Jeremy."

Oh please. And he thinks I don't? He's my brother!

"Just like you think you know about people, I happen to actually know about feelings," he notified. He stepped off his bike and made gestures. "And the only reason he called you out was because he was being defensive about himself..." I wasn't following. "He likes her! Jeremy likes Sarah, okay? That's why he was trying to go out of his way to get her something, but when he realized that it wasn't in his power, he broke down. That still didn't give him an excuse for insulting you, but that's the truth behind it."

"And that's why you bought that gift?" I asked because it still seemed like he had ulterior motives if he gave me credit. 

"Maybe one day you'll understand," he wished. "When you really care for someone, you try to do anything that's right by them to any extension."

What was he saying? That he did right by Jeremy because he knew that I wanted him to be happy? Surely I was incorrect. Suddenly, before I got the chance to ask him, Hayden's car pulled up and I gulped.

"Oh no."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hayden almost growled at Dastan, who still stood nonchalantly even though he stared intently at me. Even though Hayden was dressed in game day attire, his expression told me he didn't mind messing up the business aesthetic. 

"He was just leaving," I found myself muttering.

"You better start leaving—"

"Calm down," Dastan said, colliding his shoulder with Hayden's. Hayden's composure surprisingly softened when he glanced at me. "You already know I'm done with school and done with you, so stop making this bigger than it actually is."

Before I knew it, I had been watching him drive all the way down the road, never letting my eyes escape his bike's trail. I snapped out of it when Hayden grabbed my hand and kissed my cheek like nothing just happened.