My phone buzzes the next morning. Devin and I both passed out on the couch. I'm sprawled over Devin, my head on his chest. His arms are wrapped around me. I blink and rub sleep from my eyes. "What is it?" Devin mumbles. I sit up and look at my phone.

You wanna hang out today? We could do something-you pick. It reads from Alex. "Alex wants to hang out today," I say.

"Does he have any idea what time it is? It's what? It's fucking five in the goddamn morning," Devin says. I look at my watch and then start laughing.

"It's eleven, not five," I tell him.

"Whatever. He still seems awfully eager to spend time with you," he grumbles. His grey eyes are still half shut.

"So, what do you want to do?" I ask him. He sits up and rubs his eyes.

"I dunno," he says. I raise an eyebrow. "Well, you can do whatever you want."

"I'm asking what you want to do," I repeat. He stares at me.

"I don't want to go home." He doesn't say anything else. I look at him. His eyes have bags under them, his skin is paler than it usually is even though he normally has pale skin. The bruises are very apparent. He looks horrible. Devin sees me looking at him sadly. "I'll be fine, go. Do whatever. I don't care," he tells me.

"Let's go for a walk," I say.

"I'm fine," he says.

"That wasn't an offer," I tell him. He shakes his head. "Get up. We're going for a walk." He doesn't move. "Move your fatass!"

"I'm not fat!" he says. He gets up and then we walk up to my room to get dressed. We're both ready a couple of minutes later. We walk out. "Why are we doing this?"

"So you don't get fat," I say. He mutters something. We sit down on a bench. The trees are starting to change colors. I look at him. "You look miserable," I tell Devin.

"Whatever," he says.

"You're such a fucking lameass," I tell him. He sighs. "You need to get laid, go and call one of the whores-I mean people-that you have on speed dial," I tell him.

"Or I can watch some more old slasher movies with you," he says. "That's what I'd rather do."

"You need a girlfriend," I tell him. We stand up.

"You're all I need," Devin says as he wraps me in a big bear hug. I squeal and start laughing.

"Don't make me give you another bruise!" I say.

"It's okay, it's not like you can reach my face," he says and then releases me. I step up onto the bench and then jump on him.

"We'll see about that!" I tell him. I wrap my legs around him and grab onto his neck so he's giving me a piggyback.

"What do you think now? I think I can reach your face pretty well," I tell him as I cover his eyes.

"Yeah, uh, maybe don't cover my eyes, especially when you're on my back and I'm driving. I might run you into a tree," he says laughing. I uncover his eyes. He walks.

"You should start running, you know for football practice," I tell him. He cranes his neck to look at me, his face is a couple of inches from mine.

"Really?"

"Really." He starts running. We tear through the park at a pretty fast speed. I laugh. After a while Devin stops running and pants.

"Can we stop for a second?" he asks. I nod and then he releases my legs. I drop down. We lay down on the open field. Slowly Devin's breathing gets slower and more even.

"Am I interrupting something?" a voice asks. We both sit up.

"Oh, hey Alex. What are you doing here?" I say. Devin mutters something that I can't hear. Alex sits down next to me.

"Just decided to go for a walk," Alex says. Devin snorts. "You have something to say, Wright?" Devin shakes his head and keeps smirking. How did Alex figure out Devin's last name?

"Well," I say, trying to make sure that Devin doesn't talk. "We were just-"

"I bet you watched her leave. I bet you watched her leave her house. You're a little watcher, aren't you? You like watching people, don't you?" Devin says. Alex stares at him, completely unfazed.

"What happened to your face? Daddy get drunk and hit you?" Alex says, his voice cold. I don't even know how to react. That was such a shitty move. How did he even know? I hear Devin's breathing get deeper, a sign that he's going to do something regretful.

"Devin, let's go," I say grabbing his hand. His fingers are shaking. He stands up but keeps his eyes locked on Alex, who's sitting there with an arrogant smirk. He knows that he's gotten to Devin. "Devin," I say firmly. He looks at me and then I feel his hand squeeze mine. We start walking away.

Once we get back to my house Devin says, "You fucking told him!"

"I didn't tell him anything, we went out once to a movie. He kissed me and then he drove me home. We barely talked. The only thing that I know about him is that his family's in the military. That's all I know, okay Devin?" I say. He paces around the kitchen.

"You still think he's a great guy?" Devin asks. I snort.

"Of course not. He's a shithead," I say. Devin seems to accept this. "Was your dad drunk?" I ask him. My voice is quiet.

"No." We stare sadly at each other, if his dad wasn't drunk he was completely in his right mind when he hit Devin. He doesn't have an excuse.

He meant to hit Devin.