I stomp across the car park with my lips pressed into a thin line. It doesn't take long for Archer to burst out of the pizzeria behind me. I ignore his persistent calling of my name. "You're unbelievable," I interrupt him.

The cold doesn't phase me anymore. My jacket flies open as the wind hits my skin, but I don't care. My trainers are slapping against the pavement and even that manages to frustrate me. Every little sound, especially Archer's footsteps behind me, are getting on my nerves.

I walk straight past Penny's car, but I don't get far before he voices his disapproval. "Get in the car, Madison." He demands. His voice sends chills running across my skin. "It'll take you hours to walk."

My steps falter. That is true, it took us an hour to drive here, and I didn't bring enough money for a taxi. I debate on walking anyway just to prove to him that I don't care what he says but I also remember how much my feet were aching after we did the trek. Am I really ready to go through that again but ten times worse?

"Why do you care?" I spit.

I hear him sigh behind me almost as if he's had enough of me. I whirl around causing our gazes to connect. His is harsh yet there's something else there, concern? No, it can't be. "I wouldn't hear the last of it from Penny if I left you here."

He reminds me again that I'm nothing to him. I'm just Penny's friend who he feels obliged to take care of because of his sister. Would you even be able to call it taking care of? Tolerating seems better. He tolerates me for her sake.

I huff, walking back towards him.

He opens the door for me, and I slam it shut. His eyes widen. He was expecting me to simply get in, that definitely isn't going to happen. He watches me intently as I open the door for myself and get in. He doesn't get to be chivalrous.

"So, you're telling me that what happened between us when we were lost was nothing?" I continue as if no time had gone past. "And what happened between us in the garage was nothing too?"

If looks could kill, he would have died a painful death back in the booth. I can glare at him all night. He keeps his attention on the road.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He shrugs nonchalantly and my frustration grows.

"You do!" I throw my hands up in the air. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." I point an accusing finger at him.

I can't continue to sit in this car with him if he's going to act clueless. I weigh up the pros and cons of getting out right now and walking. There's a long list of cons but there's one pro that outweighs them. I can prove to myself that what he wants means nothing to me. He wants me to stay in the car so I'm going to do the opposite.

"Stop the car."

He scoffs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Nope." He says, popping the p.

"Stop the car," I demand more sternly.

"Nothing you say is going to make me stop," He locks the doors, so I have no way of leaving. There goes my plan of throwing myself out of a moving car. "You'll get sick." His words almost make me think he cares about my well-being, almost.

"I don't care," I stare out of the window. My hands are balled up into fists on my lap. Why does he think that he has any say in what I do? "Getting sick would be better than sitting in this car with you." I spit.

His smirk falters and his eyes turn serious. Any amusement that was previously there has vanished entirely. "You don't mean that."

"Trust me, I do." Something shifts in his face. He swerves the car like a maniac across the other lane and into a random car park of a motel. "What the hell are you doing?" I shout, loosening my grip on my seatbelt.

I try to open my door, but it's still locked. His eyes bore into mine causing me to gulp, trying to make it look like he doesn't affect me. "You don't mean that." He repeats.

"I do," I insist but my voice comes out barely above a whisper. It's considerably harder to maintain this act when he's staring into my soul. I feel like I'm fighting against the power he has over me and barely winning.

"Damn you!"

He chuckles as he pulls back out onto the road, continuing the drive back to the house.

"You felt something too, I know you did," I say but it feels like I'm talking to myself more than him. He felt something. He definitely felt something. "You're not fooling anyone." I still don't get a response.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Archer is like an extremely challenging puzzle that you spend all of your time trying to work out, but you never finish. Puzzles make me want to bang my head on a table repeatedly.

"Now you're giving me the silent treatment," I scoff, "how mature." This is the last thing I say before we're submerged in silence the rest of the way.

Once we get back to the house, I'm more than glad to be back and not stuck in a confined space with the spawn of Satan. He finally unlocks the doors. I throw him one last glare before getting out. Only, I don't make it. Something's stopping me; someone's stopping me.

My eyes flicker down to his hand holding mine, preventing me from leaving. My throat immediately dries as the usual electricity shoots up my arm from the contact. I want to rip my hand away from his, but I don't. I like to tell myself that I want to, but I know that deep down inside I don't.

"I know you feel something too," are the only words I manage to say before he lets go of my hand as if it burnt him and retreats into the house.

I remain in the car for a while, frozen in place, trying to figure this boy out. I'd read that men were confusing, but I didn't know that they were this confusing.

*

The next day I go to school like normal and I don't see Archer at all. I'm not even sure if he turned up, he might have gone to a friend's house or got on his motorcycle and drove somewhere random. He does that sometimes.

I debate on asking Tyler if he knows where he is when I see him at lunch but decide against it. I shouldn't care.

The school day ends finally after hours of torture. I couldn't be happier to be back in the comfort of Penny's car, even if it does remind me of what happened last night. By the time we get back to the house, my throat is sore from laughing so much at the unbelievable but entirely true stories of her childhood.

I'm still laughing when I climb out of the car. My laughter comes to an abrupt stop when I see who's sat on the doorstep waiting for me. I wanted more than anything to wrap myself up in my bed, but it looks like that isn't going to happen yet.

I almost walk past him and into the house, but I know that if I don't talk to him now, he'll wait outside the door for me all night if he has to. I drag my feet behind me, sitting next to him.

"Adrian." I acknowledge his presence.

"Madison." He replies.

We don't look at each other for another few minutes. I rack my brain for something to say but I can't bring myself to say what I know is right. My reaction last night was uncalled for. I overreacted. I hate to admit it, but I did.

Once I muster up the courage to admit my mistake, he speaks at the same time. We giggle awkwardly. He offers to let me speak but I refuse. "You can go first."

"Listen, I'm so sorry about yesterday," regret washes over his face. I know that he means what he says. "It was insensitive of me to say that."

"It was." I agree. I take a sharp intake of breath and prepare myself to speak. "But you shouldn't be the only one apologising. I overreacted and I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

He rests his hand on my leg, but I don't move it. There's no electricity like there is with Archer. With Adrian, it's simply just a comforting hand on my leg, nothing else. "I understand why you reacted the way you did. He's an important person in your life and it was wrong of me to speak of him the way I did."

My eyes widen as I scramble to correct him. "He's not important to me," I claim instantly.

"Are you sure?"

I don't respond because I know that what he said is right. Archer has become important to me whether I like it or not. I reacted the way I did last night because he's important to me. I sigh. It hasn't even been a month yet and I'm already caught up on a guy. More importantly, I'm caught up on a guy who won't admit that he feels the same way. He said that I mean nothing to him, and I shouldn't want to mean anything to him. I came to Portland to make friends and live life as a senior to the fullest not get caught up on a guy.

"I have a job interview in," he lifts his wrist so he can see his watch. "Now actually, I'm late. Before you say anything it's not your fault. I came here on my own accord so it's my responsibility to deal with the consequences. I wish you the best of luck in the future." He stands up.

"Good luck with your interview, Adrian. If you need any flowers to apologise for being late to the interview you know where to find me."

He laughs slightly. I give him a small smile and he repeats the gesture.

He leaves for his interview and I stay sat on the doorstep. Adrian's a great guy but we weren't meant for each other. Our date probably would have gone south one way or another. It just wasn't meant to be.

My inner voice tells me that there's someone I'm more suited to who drives a motorcycle and wears all black, but I tell it to shut up. I rest my head in my hands and groan inwardly, realising the mess that I've got myself into.