I didn't want to avoid Wyatt.

The kiss was nice, more than nice. It felt like he wanted to kiss me. It gave me butterflies.

It felt like Dalton wanted to kiss me, it did, it felt like butterflies in the car until it didn't.

It's surprising how that turns out. The minute I wanted him to kiss me, after a couple weeks of mental jenga, he becomes so different.

I never ask for advice. But Claire would say it's honest.

Mean but honest.

My mom would probably say we're young. Just trying to figure it out. He is.

She would also say to protect my heart.

The visual Dalton painted was playing over in my head though, of him walking across the hall and asking Wyatt to keep it down.

I hated that I let it affect me so much.

That I let him place things into my head. With him, with Wyatt. I can't remember where the conversation started but he was kissing me.

And he was talking. More than he talks. Dalton doesn't talk often. He's all "we spent weeks working to what he could have in seconds?" I know he means the kisses. The way he held me after. If anything made Wyatt feel more genuine, it's the confirmation that he was touching my waist.

And he was pressing closer to me.

It's enough to make me remember the other things said.

"I'm the one that loves you."

It felt real. It hits me more but Dalton's bad at saying the right thing. And Wyatt says everything right.

Part of it felt like he were watching out because he cared for me.

I felt my stomach turn.

That didn't feel like where I was but I was always better at not talking. Because I wanted to feel butterflies but Dalton wouldn't just know about his Escape from Mars t-shirt, and the tattoo on his ankle, he wouldn't.

He wouldn't say it if he didn't care.

He wouldn't have been able to go into such graphic... graphic detail, he would've stumbled.

He would've rambled, shrugged off my questioning.

I knew Dalton, even if it felt like sometimes I didn't.

At least he was honest.

He was kind two days after, as if he didn't leave a bruise on my heart and I chose to pretend like it didn't happen.

He apologized when he'd seen me, he apologized after telling me, when he dropped me off. He apologized the next morning blubbering over the phone about how much he cared for me.

And it felt like he loved me.

I try to remind myself of Gabe. I play music, it's out of sync. I find comfort in indie melodrama.

I test myself, by recreating the moment in the mirror. By thinking of how close Dalton was, and visualizing the look he'd given me. He looked sad, even if it was hidden behind a cloak of anger. I tug on a collared shirt, try not to think of Wyatt's hand on my back.

I tried not to think about it when Dalton showed up outside my locker on Monday.

I jump a little, his eyes look dead. Sad. Truly.

Blonde hair parted down the middle , it's scruffy at the top, he's cut a few inches since we last spoke. He smells good, like wood and smoke.

My body resists it, I stand still, he didn't look like he slept.

I soften, remind myself that his shoulders should slump, not mine. Force myself away with that pinching anxiety in my neck. I care for him, and it sucks.

The situation I've put us in.

He wants me to speak first, so I do. "Hi."

"Hello." It's soft, paired with a smile, he leans into the locker beside mine, tries to look carefree. I see him bouncing on his toes.

"I've missed you." He tries. "I was thinking about you all weekend."

I missed him too. I'm not a liar but I won't say more than I need to.

"I'm sorry for how I've been."

It's quiet.

I don't want to acknowledge it, really, but I nod. I'm happy to know but it sucks that I need to put space up now.

Dalton's single. He's more than single and he's not honest about that. He's spending time with the guys and I can't ask about the nights he spends with others but he cares that Wyatt likes me, he cares enough to try and convince me that Wyatt doesn't like me.

It's easy to dig myself back into my shell, it's why no one ever sticks around. He frowns when I don't respond and his voice softens.

His eyes are trying to catch me.
"Do you wanna come over tonight?"

"Um." It's nervous, it shouldn't be so hard to say that "I'm busy."

I know I want to be with him all the time, except not like how he was at Warehouse. Only how we are without everyone else around. I love Dalton, it's becoming clearer the more we speak, or don't speak. The more I remember that he loves me too, I love him more.

"Gabs, I'm sorry."

"Yeah."

"I was really drunk." He explains, "We should've got a car, it won't happen again." His voice is still soft; it feels like a secret the way he looks around and I know it's a lot to talk about here.

And he's made the effort.

It feels so sincere, like he thought about it the whole weekend.

"I'm truly sorry. I put you in a tough spot, I understand. I should have talked to you when we got back."

I can't forget what he said to me, how he looked when he said it. He looked to be so sorry, he's able to flush with emotion. It feels like I'm seeing him again.

He's hurting. Mentally.

"It was a lot of high energy. And I did not do the best that I could have."

I nod. I want to forgive, it feels like I already have. But Wyatt already caught me between first and second period, he asked me if I was free tonight. I said yes because I was angry, and because I was scared that it wouldn't be the last time Dalton's temper could take over. I could still feel his hands on my wrists, and gripping at my sides and...

I could still feel his body pressed against mine and face pressed into my neck.

"I'm hanging out with Wyatt." He looked down.

He stared down his shoes like they'd done something to him. I tried to soften the blow. "We're close... and I just didn't wanna keep it from you 'cause I really do like you. And I don't want it to be a thing."

He nods. Swallows sharp when he looks back up and past me. His eyes are hard, glassy.

"Do you like him?"

"I do." You know that.

He nods.

I want to apologize but I'm cut off by him standing up straight. But a firm hand on my shoulder and a loud "Oi!"

"Hey! Aussie." That's Rhett, for once appearing at an opportune time. He's saved us the awkward shuffle of having to decide who leaves first.

My brother is bumping my shoulder,
Dalton steps back almost immediately.

"Gabs. I need your help."

I shrug his arm off, the nickname nearly makes me cringe when he says it. It's not endearing, it's almost mocking. I roll my neck, try to crack it.

"What?"

Rhett's not paying attention enough to realize that he's stepped in. Dalton's still staring at me and I'm not sure what it means but he won't look me in the eye. He just looks me over, looks down my body with a disinterested look. Looks to the side while Rhett fills in the silence.

"With Tara."

"Aren't you dating Sierra?" I ask.

"Yeah and Tara's her girlfriend, keep up."

•

"I like that shirt." Wyatt says when I've met him at the car lot.

He's stuffing a portfolio bag in his trunk, and closing. Shuffling around, he opens my door and then the backseat and he's placing his camera bag, his book bag, he's taking my bag and then shutting the door.

He cages me into the passenger side, looks at my shirt when we're chest to chest. His arms are swole and thrown over top the frame and car alike. He's looking over my head now, watching the buses roll out.

I'm staring at his chin, can't help but feel warm with his skin so close.

He's biting his lip now.

It feels like a romcom. I find myself sinking into the car frame. I sit and he looks me down.

"Really?" I laugh, I can't help but laugh when his eyes are so kind and when he has that cute smile on.

Wyatt bites his lip, looks in my eyes, looks at my lips.

"Fits you good." He says. "You look good."

I don't know what that means exactly. It's the only Polo I own though and I made sure to put it on in the off chance that he'd be near. I knew it was my most-presentable outfit, I also knew the green made my eyes pop and Wyatt's looking at me like he wants to kiss me. "Thank you."

"Can I take you on a date?" He asks.

"I thought that was what we were doing."

He grins then, steps back so I can get in the car, I peel myself away from him.

He doesn't speak until he's starting the engine. "You don't have a boyfriend?"

"I don't."

He nods. "Yet."

"Do you believe in parallel universes?" He asks.

It's been a minute of just quiet, stargazing.

"I don't know enough about it."

"Okay, so you know the concept, right?" He immediately starts his tangent. I wonder how long he was sitting here hypothesizing.

"The idea is that there's alternate realities, like thousands and they all somehow coexist with the one we're living in right now."

"You're such a nerd."

"Shh." His eyes are still in the comets. "My dad used to tell me that in another galaxy, long after he's gone, he's sliding through the constellations. He's watching my kids grow old."

He smiles, it's sad. "I think he knew."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "Feels like he's still with me. Like, watching me, and the things I go through. Like he's guiding me."

"That's beautiful."

It's embarrassment or maybe it's feeling cornered that makes him apologize but he's blushing now. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"I think I'm supposed to know you, Gabe." He says. "Like, you ever get that feeling? I think it's me and you in other universes."

"That's sappy." And cute. And something I've thought before, that Wyatt was always there, because what are the odds that we'd both be in the same place at the same time? "What are we doing in... universe four-thousand... sixty-three?"

"Hm..." it's cheesy. I like him, "in another parallel universe... alike this one in another galaxy far, far away... Wyatt #4563 already told Gabriel #4563 that he's absolutely breathtaking."

Like that way he looked at me when he took photos. Like he wanted to look at me, like he wanted to kiss me.

"Wyatt #1 wants to say it, Wyatt #3200 is having a panic attack." He smiles. Grabs for my hand, twines our fingers. "And Wyatt number #82 is already kissing you."

"When he was taking pictures of the pretty boy in his lawn on a hot summer day in that stupid jean jacket, he said fuck it and he kissed him..." he shrugs, "and he told him that he has liked him for so long that sometimes he dreams about him. And they have already fallen in love."

"Wyatt..."

"But you and me, Gabe, we're in universe #1."

It's soft, he kisses my fingertips. "And Wyatt #1 has now told Gabriel #1 that he likes him, a bit too late. But it's okay because they're holding hands and I'm sure the security is gonna kick us out but that's just as fine."

"No reason." "He's nice, right?"

"He's cool." "Wanna come over?"