Once they're gone, I take a second to acknowledge the pain, groaning loudly. I run a finger down the bridge of my nose, gingerly. Something feels out of place, but it's not bleeding, so I take that as a good sign. I clutch my face, the pressure helping, somehow, to ease the pain.

     The door opens behind me and I glance up, unable to roll my eyes because of the pain pulsating through my entire face. My voice is muffled by my hands when I say, "Yeah, yeah, go ahead and say I told you so."

     Dres steps forward, crouches down, and pushes my hands out of the way, tilting my head upwards. He sighs. "It's broken."

      "Great," I say flatly. "Fucking fantastic."

     "I can align it. But it's going to hurt."

     I consider the alternative. A hospital with the promise of some fancy pain killers if I whine enough, but, also, my hysterical mother who'll be booking the first flight out of here and transferring me to a new school.

     "If you align it, will I have to go to the ER?"

     He hesitates. "No, but you should."

     "Okay, do it," I say, avoiding his gaze. Dres moves his hands down my face, thumbs landing on either side of my nose. I try not to notice that they smell sweet and doughy. I wait for him to say something, like on the count of three. He doesn't say anything, just snaps my nose back into place without warning.

     I let out some kind of dying sound, reaching up to try and clutch my face. Dres blocks my arm, shoving my hands away as he holds my face still. The throbbing doesn't subside, and I'm not even sure if its just in my face at this point.

     He lets go slowly, hesitantly, like he's not sure I wont try touching my nose. When I don't move, he releases my head fully.

     "They're going to keep doing this because they know they can get away with it," Dres says.

     I give a small shake of my head. "No, they won't get the chance. My mom is going to loose her shit when she finds out this happened. We'll be on the first flight out of here. "

     Dres's expression is unreadable. "Maybe that's for the best."

     "Yeah? I should just run away?"

     He shakes his head. "I think you should take care of yourself."

     "I am," I respond defensively.

     "You're not!" he snaps loudly. His voice echoes in the empty pool. I'm so surprised by the outburst, by the break in Dres's usually collected demeanor that all I can do is stare. "This time it's your just your nose, but next time? And then after that? These things don't have a tendency to end with you just walking away."

     "They aren't going to, like, kill me," I say stubbornly.

     "You could get seriously hurt, Cas," he says, softer now. "Why are you letting them do this to you?"

     I clamp my mouth shut, shut my eyes, too, because looking at Dres is dangerous.

     "Whatever. Let's just go. My mom's waiting for us." I get up, shoving away from Dres's outstretched hand. Dres doesn't say anything, just watches me retreat inside the locker room.

     After I shower and change, I meet Dres back by the pool. He's quiet as we exit the school. I follow him over to his truck, climbing into the passenger's side after he unlocks the door. My eye has started to swell, so I'm trying not to open it. I lean my head against the window after I've buckled in, relishing in the cool glass.

     The radio is on some oldies station, humming lowly. Dres pulls around behind the store, and parks beside a red sedan. He shifts into park but doesn't climb out just yet. I sit up, unbuckling myself before pulling the mirror down to examine the damage.

     When I'd showered, my face was starting to get all red and puffy around my left eye, but now it was turning dark blue and green.

     "Don't say anything to my mom about it. I'll tell her what happened, okay?" I'm turning towards Dres as I speak, but he's already out of the car, though, heading inside without hearing much or any of what I've said.

     I climb out and chase after him. He moves towards the front with quick, long strides.

     "There they are," Dolores cries when we walk through the doorway into the front of the store. Grace and my mom are seated at a table that has a stack of pizza boxes. My stomach leaps with joy. I need to carb load big time.

     "What took you guys so long?" my mom asks and then gasps, jumping to her feet. "What happened to your face, Calvin?"

     I start to explain, go to tell her not to worry but Dres goes, "It's my fault. I was pulling the door open, didn't realize Calvin was right behind me, and I elbowed him."

     I turn and stare at Dres, surprised and amazed that he's covering for me, that he's lying for me like this. That he's lying to my mom. It doesn't feel like something he'd do if he didn't care, on some level, about me.

     My mom visibly relaxes, dropping back into her seat. "Oh, I thought..." she trails. "Well, never mind that. Accidents happen. Come here, Cas, let me look at that."

     "Mom, you're an OB." I stay put. She gives me a look, which means she could be a freaking astronaut she's still going to look at my face. I move towards her. "It's not so bad," she says, turning my head. "You'll need to ice it."

     "I'll get some," Dolores says rubbing my shoulder. "Congratulations on your wins, Calvin."

     I murmur a thanks as I grab a seat next to Grace and grab a paper plate. "Who bought pizza?"

     "Dres did," Grace says glancing at me with a look I know too well. It's all insinuation. I look over at Dres, questioningly. He nods his head. When did he find time to order pizzas?

     Dolores comes back with a towel of ice. I place it gratefully on the side of my face while I simultaneously try to gather myself some slices. I fully intend to eat an inhumane amount of food.

     Dres surprises me as he sits down with us and, shit, here we go. Mom starts her interrogation with, "So why did you decide to open a bakery?"

     I look at Grace, begging her to do something. She picks up her phone and texts me:

     Grace: I'M OUTTA DISTRACTIONS BRUH

     Grace: I LITERALLY DISTRACTED HER THIS WHOLE TIME

     Dres answers, "I promised someone I would after I finished my last tour."

     Grace: tell me you guys were making sweet sweet love in the backseat of his car and that's how you got that bruise on your face and that's why you were late and that it has 100% absolutely nothing to do with James and his merry band of assholes

     I type back, Firstly, there's no shot of Dres and I making sweet, sweet love and also, this is 100% James' doing.

     She looks at me and her face is somewhere between angry and sad. "Are you okay?" she mouths and I nod my head, giving a small hand signal to say we can talk about it later.

     She squeezes my knee. I go for another slice.

     My mom is saying, "Oh, where were you deployed?"

     "Afghanistan," Dres answers and I choke on my pizza, coughing loudly in an attempt to clear my airway. My mom shoots me a look as if to scold me for my table manners.

     "What." I gasp. "You were in the military?"

     Dolores goes, "Dres didn't tell you that, Calvin?" She gives Dres a pointy look. Private Weston. I'm mad at myself for not realizing it, for not putting it together. It's disappointing realizing I don't know as much as I thought I did about Dres.

     "How many tours did you do?" my mom asks.

     "Three," Dres answers. My jaw goes slack. Three tours? That sounds like a lot. I don't know enough to know if it actually is a lot, but it certainly sounds like a lot.

     "He was a Sergeant," Dolores says proudly. "He even received the Distinguished Service Cross after his last tour."

     I've long since set down the ice Dolores gave me and am just openly staring at Dres, shocked. "You're a decorated vet?" I ask because that, I do know, is a great honor. Is the kind of thing that you can speak at events for. What, exactly, had Dres gone through in the war and who was he before it?

     Dres nods, but doesn't say anything that would explain it. That's how I know I'm not getting anything from him.

     "So Private Weston..." She hesitates. "He was one of your men?"

     Dres nods again. I know that expression, know that that's all he wants to and will say on the matter. My mom doesn't know him, doesn't know his mannerisms, won't be able to read him and see that.

     So I ask her, "Didn't you say you have to go back into work tonight?"

     She looks at me. "Yeah, I have that late delivery, why? We can stay a bit longer, it's no problem."

     "Actually, Grace and I can get a ride from Halston so you can head out if you need to."

     She turns her head to look at me. "You sure?"

     "Yeah, it's no problem," I say even though I haven't really run this by Halston. Her dad has been picking her up after work. It shouldn't be a problem having him drop us off since he does it all the time.

     "Okay," she says, getting up. "Then I'm gonna' head out. But first, I want to buy some of these cupcakes. Cas refuses to bring any home for me."

     I groan as Dres shoots me a look. I can't tell what he's trying to convey but I know it's nothing good. It's not like I didn't want my mom to try them because I think they're bad. I just didn't want Dres to think I was stealing from him or trying to mooch.

     I follow my mom up to the counter where Halston has been leaning, scrolling through instagram on her phone. She perks up when we get to her, greeting my mom with a smile and hello.

     "Congrats Cas," she says next. "I heard you killed it at the meet today. Grace sent me some videos. You looked great out there."

     "Thank you, thank you," I say faux-bowing. When I stand back up, Halston grimaces.

     "Oh god, what happened to your face?" she asks.

     I touch my cheek, forgetting about it all for a second there. "Just an accident," I say with a shrug. "No biggie." I give her a look, hoping she'll drop it.

     She does. "So which ones are you thinking, Ms. S?"

     "Give me six. You can pick," my mom answers.

     "You can't have Halston pick, she loves them all," I say with a grin.

     "Well, which ones do you like?" mom asks. Dres, who's walked behind the counter, turns to give me a look.

     "I haven't tried any, actually," I say feeling kind of stupid for having to say so.

     My mom frowns, clearly thinking it's weird.

     Halston says, "Espresso Your Love is the best of the best." Then she adds, "Oh! And Butter Nut Cry. Oh, oh and Don't Go Bacon My Heart."

     My mom laughs. "I think the names for your cupcakes are just charming."