TAYLOR REMAINS STANDOFFISH for the next few days. Chelsea doesn't know what happened on the night of her date and it didn't look like she would elaborate any time soon. They start to have fewer meals together and with every passing day Chelsea feels the pit of anxiety mounting up within her.

So she tries to keep busy to feel it less. She continues her routine. Because that's what she's always done. The party's continue next door. College, food, sleep, shifts at the pier.

When she leaves her house, she sees the lawn next door scattered in rubbish. It did sound crazy last night and here's the evidence. Red cups, toilet roll, the grass peaks have a slight sheen of beer to them. Somehow a pair of black, lacy undies managed to make its way onto a branch of her tree.

"It'll be gone by the time you get back." A voice says.

She looks around but there's no one there.

"Up here." She looks up and sure enough, there's Zach, shirtless and sitting on his roof.

"I thought your tag didn't allow you to come this far."

"Not me. I'll have my maid come get it."

"You have a maid?"

"You don't?" His face is completely serious for a second before creasing up. "I'm messing with you."

He starts to get up and disappears into the house. Chelsea thinks that's it but then he comes out his front door, buttoning up a white shirt. His polished shoes twinkle in the sunlight.

She stays where she is as Zach makes his way, to her surprise, past the low brick wall threshold. There's a tie around his neck which he quickly and skillfully puts in place.

"How?" Is all Chelsea is able to ask.

"I go to a lot of formal events."

"No, I mean this." She tilts her chin to where his feet are, more specifically at his ankle, more specifically at the black tag. It's nearly unnoticeable under his crisp, black slacks but there's an undeniable bulge.

"I have a court date."

"Oh."

He says it like he's going out for brunch.

"Yeah." He runs a hand through his neatly combed hair, realises his mistake, and tries to put the strands back in place. "I heard you're working at the pier."

"Yep. That means I can start paying you back."

"It's not--" a big deal, he wants to say, but is cut off.

"So is the tag coming off?"

He sighs. "Maybe."

"That's good, right? Maybe sounds hopeful."

"Maybe." He says again, squinting at her. She seems different from the last time he saw her. "Are you happy?"

She's startled by the question."I. . . I don't know."

"You deserve to be."

"Thanks, I guess."

There's the sound of a car horn. That's Zach's cue to leave. He grabs the panties from the branch, stuffs it into his pocket, and turns on his heels. Noah's waiting and he's always in a pissy mood these days. He says it's because he's worried. Zach knows it's the pressure from their dad.

"You deserve to be happy too." Chelsea says after he's walked a few paces.

He considers lying. But he's tired of it.

"Maybe." But his maybe doesn't sound so hopeful. It's a defeated, resigned maybe.

He opens the passenger door of the car and falls in. The black panties also slide out. Noah's dressed identical to him but with a blazer on. He looks at the offending material and then back at him. He sighs like he's given up but Zach knows better.

"Looks like nothing's changed."

He wonders if he even can.