Rian surveyed me impassively. "Have you been drinking?"

"No, no," I said between giggles. For some reason, I just couldn't stop laughing at the situation.

"Then do you just really enjoy taking the bus?"

I waved my hands in a 'no' gesture, trying to catch my breath. "That's not it," I chuckled, rubbing my face. "It's just . . . you would not believe the day I've had."

He continued watching me quietly, that obsidian stare as unrelenting as ever. "Try me."

I paused, glancing at him in surprise. "Huh?"

He crossed his arms, leaning back against his seat. "Why don't you try telling me first, and I'll see for myself whether I believe it or not?"

I turned to him fully, still not quite sure I was hearing him right. "You . . . want me to tell you about my day?"

"I told you I don't like repeating myself, didn't I?"

I blinked and suppressed a smile. "Are you feeling alright? You don't seem like yourself today," I said amusedly.

Rian frowned and raised an eyebrow. "And what do I normally seem like?"

"Not sure you want the answer to that."

"If I asked, that means I want to know."

"Yeah, but there are kids on this bus. I can't use swear words in front of them."

His gaze darkened, and I caught a few quiet laughs from the seats behind us. Point: Hanna.

"Fine," he said smoothly, lowering his voice so we couldn't be heard. "Answer my earlier question then. We have another couple minutes left before we get to the university, so we might as well pass the time."

Grinning wickedly, I felt another wave of laughter on the horizon as I remembered the events of the day. "Where do I even start?" I mused lightly. "I guess I can start with why I was running to the bus like a crazy woman."

"Like a crazy woman?"

"Shush," I said, narrowing my eyes. "Or you won't hear the story." He smirked at me, and I tried to ignore the rush of blood to my face. So he was capable of facial expression after all, huh?

Turning my eyes away, I moved on. "See, I was literally chased out of my apartment building less than five minutes ago," I began, jerking my thumb over my shoulder in the direction we'd just come from. "By a terrifying she-demon."

"A what?"

"A she-demon!" I repeated, shuddering at the memory. "A creature of the night, with press-on nails and six-inch Prada heels. I was lucky this time, because she didn't have her sorority sisters with her, but even one of them can be deadly if they feel you're a threat."

Rian looked me up and down skeptically. "Are you sure you haven't been drinking?"

"I'm being serious!" I exclaimed earnestly. "Her name is Rikki, and she's Rokim's ex-girlfriend. She scares the bejeezus out of me."

At the mention of Rokim, the corner of Rian's mouth turned downward. "You were with Rokim?"

"Yeah," I said distractedly, still preoccupied with the story. "We live next door to each other, so we hung out all afternoon."

He leaned back, the expressionless mask back up. "All afternoon."

"Uh-huh," I continued. "Actually," I laughed slightly, "we tried meditation. I was really skeptical, but Rokim was bent on doing it. He said it might help relieve stress—"

I abruptly cut myself off, my voice stuck in my throat. Rian stared at me quietly, waiting for me to finish, and I suddenly remembered the reason why I'd been so stressed to start with. Those obsidian eyes bored into mine questioningly, but now they seemed to carry much more weight than before.

Rian!

Memories of the horrible nightmare I'd had washed over me, keeping me frozen in place. All the awful, self-loathing emotions from that morning hit me like a truck. How could I have forgotten? How could I have chatted with him, laughed even, so shamelessly?

"Hanna." Rian's voice floated over me, but hearing it only made me feel worse. My right side began to burn, and pain radiated from where my fingernails dug into my palms. I tore my eyes away from his and stared at the bus floor. 

"Sorry," I breathed, feeling the weight of my guilt settle squarely on my shoulders. "I, um, I don't really remember the rest."

"Are you alright?"

I resisted the urge to squeeze my eyes shut. The question felt like a punch in the gut—I didn't deserve his concern. I suddenly wished he remembered, that he could recall everything that had happened three years ago, if only to take out his rage on me. This perpetual limbo, where I always felt sorry and he remained oblivious, was so difficult. I wanted it to be over, but even as the thought raced through my mind, I knew it was just my own selfishness talking.

"I'm fine," I responded, forcing myself to smile. I didn't raise my eyes from the bus floor. All I could do was sit there, noiselessly dreading every second before he spoke.

"I don't think you're fine."

I didn't reply, my gaze still fixated on the ground. The pangs in my side were slowly intensifying, but I almost relished it. It distracted me from the overwhelming temptation to look to my left, at Rian. To give in to his silent demand for my attention.

"You're doing it again, you know."

"Doing what?" I forced the words out, trying not to let my breathlessness betray the increasing pain in my side.

"Not looking at me."

I sucked in a breath, unsure how to respond. One second seemed to stretch into the next while I scrambled for a reply. Thankfully, the hiss of the bus doors opening provided a welcome interruption.

"Looks like we're here!" I said quickly, sliding from my seat and stepping off the bus. The second my foot hit the pavement, I started speed-walking to the university. Screw being late, I just needed to put some distance between Rian and I. At least until I could regain some semblance of control.

"I admire the effort, but you are aware of how short your legs are, aren't you?" Rian deadpanned, easily catching up to me and matching my pace.

"My legs are not short!" I snapped, familiar irritation rushing through me at his insinuation. "Your legs are just abnormally long!"

"Is that so?"

I opened my mouth to retort, but stopped myself at the last second. I withdrew into myself, feeling my gloom settle back down on my shoulders like a dark, heavy cloud.

"There. There it is," I could feel Rian glaring down at me, but I withstood the desire to look back up at him. "You seem perfectly normal when I insult your height, but then shut down immediately after that."

"My height is a sensitive topic," I mumbled, without any of the heat from a few moments before.

"That's not it," he insisted, his voice both frigid and forbidding. We were at the university's side entrance now, and I moved to open the door. Rian's hand stopped me, latching onto my wrist and turning me to face him.

"Let go," I said, attempting to tug my arm free, but there was no real willpower behind my actions. I was drained, physically and emotionally. Closing my eyes, I sighed and sank backwards, trapped between Rian and the brick wall behind me.

"Look at me," he commanded.

I didn't have the energy to resist anymore. Tiredly, I opened my eyes and met his gaze. Without a moment's delay, I found myself sucked back into that same, achingly familiar obsidian abyss. 

"Tell me. Why have you been acting so strange lately?"

I looked despairingly at him. "Do you really not remember?" I murmured, searching his eyes for an answer. I got the feeling that somehow, after this encounter, I'd be able to let some of my guilt and remorse go. If he only said the right words.

His expression tightened. "Again with the remembering," he murmured quietly. "So does that mean that this," he gestured to my generally distressed figure, "has something to do with me? Is it my fault?"

I frowned. "Why would you think it's your fault?"

He pushed away from me, running his hand though his hair. "You're not like this around anyone else. Even Rokim, your friend, said that that knife incident was because of me." He looked back at me suddenly, his eyes glowing with a strange, almost desperate intensity. My eyes widened—I'd never seen him like this before. 

He drew forward again, that same feverish glint in his eye. "All of this, it's my fault, isn't it?" He placed his hand on the wall above my head, leaning in close. "Like always," he finished in a near-whisper.

I stared at him, feeling my heart wrench. A distant possibility emerged in my mind, but I didn't know whether to believe it or not.

For the first time, his emotions were laid bare on his face. I could see them, as clearly as I could feel my own. For once, he wasn't cold or callous—right now, he just looked lost.

"You know, don't you?" I breathed, unsure of the words even as they fell from my lips. "Everything."

He continued staring at me, his expression pained. I waited with bated breath for his response: this could really be it. The moment things were finally resolved. All he had to do was confirm it.

Or so I wished.

As quickly as it had happened, Rian's face closed back up, once again returned to that familiar but infuriatingly blank mask of indifference. He drew himself away, putting distance between the two of us. The gap he left behind felt like a vacuum, sucking away any hopes I may have had at resolution.

"If you won't tell me," he said, his voice glacial as the Arctic, "then I suppose I'll have to take matters into my own hands."

He stalked past me, reaching for the handle of the school's side entrance. "Move," he ordered rudely, roughly pulling the door open and stepping inside. I stumbled aside, shaken. However, my disorientation soon gave way to the fire growing in my belly. 

He remembered. He had to. Or was I just crazy? 

"That goddamn bastard," I muttered. I clung to the belief that he'd been playing me this entire time. Not because I was sure, far from it—I simply needed it to be true. He's lying, I told myself, trying to will it into fact. Lying. The only question was: why?

Regaining my wits, I swung open the door and stepped inside the university. Even if I didn't know now, I sure as hell intended to find out.