It's hard to tamp the pain of rejection that squeezes at my chest as I watch Dres get into his car and drive away. In retrospect, I should've seen this coming. The reality is a guy like me doesn't end up with a guy like Dres.

     Knowing this doesn't make me feel any better. It hurts all the same.

     Some part of me expected this, and wants to walk away unscathed. I wish I could pretend none of it mattered. So Dres and I were just friends. At least it was clear now, and I could stop pining.

     I decide I can't stay outside and wallow forever, but before I can get to the door, my mom pulls it open. "Cas?"

     "Mom uh hi," I say quickly, swallowing the sour taste in my throat.

     "What're you doing out here?" she asks.

     "Nothing—I was just coming in."

     She gives me a skeptical look but doesn't press as I close the door behind me, and shrug out of my jacket, moving to hang it up on a hook by the door.

     She's leaning against the railing of the stairs, arms crossed. She asks in a too-casual-to-be-real tone, "How was your day?"

     "It was good," I respond with a noncommittal shrug.

     "That was Dres out there, wasn't it?" 

     I wince, wishing she hadn't seen him. Her voice says she knows more than she's letting on.

     I don't see any point in lying about it, and since I highly doubt he'll ever be dropping me off at my door again, I nod my head and go, "Yeah."

     She hesitates. "So when you said you were going to the movies with friends..."

     I nod again. "I meant Dres."

     "Is this the first time you and Dres have... gone to the movies?" she asks curiously. Movies suddenly feels like a euphemism for something else.

     I answer, "Yep."

     She raises an eyebrow slowly. "Are you and Dres going to make going to the movies a regular thing?"

     "Probably not," I answer itching to go upstairs and bury myself in my bed. I start for the stairs but my mom reaches for my arm and stops me.

     Both her eyebrows are raised on her forehead in question. "Probably not?"

     "Yeah, it was a one time thing," I say.

     Her expression goes slack, softening. "Are you – are you okay with that?"

     "Yeah," I say as my stomach clenches. "Yeah, no it's fine."

     She stares at me, and I try to remain impassive. This is really the last conversation I want to have. Finally she goes, "Dresden is...different than how I expected."

     I shrug, not really interested in hearing her talk about Dres since he just shot me down. But I like him too much not to hear her comment so I ask, "How so?"

     "He's not as hard as you made him seem," she says. "I think he's a lot more sensitive than you realize."

     I scoff. "Yeah, I don't know about that."

     "You never mentioned he was a veteran."

     "I didn't know," I tell her.

     "You didn't think to ask about the name of his shop?"

     "I did," I respond defensively.

     It's not like I don't try to get to know Dres. It's not like much of this is my fault. I'm willing to take responsibility for a lot, but Dres has to own up to his parts. If he wasn't interested in me he shouldn't have enthused my crush.

     "I'm exhausted," I say taking a step up the stairs. "I'm gonna' go to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

     "Okay, " she responds. "Good night."

     "Night," I call back as I head to my room. I'm so ready to climb under my covers and pretend this day never happened. Sleep is hardly a reprieve, though.

     The sooner I go to bed the sooner I'll see Dres and that's the last thing I want.

     Monday morning comes all too quickly and it is with minimal energy that I get dressed, eat breakfast, and head to school for swim practice. It's my first time seeing my teammates since our meet, and James hardly spares me a glance. Coach shakes his head and mutters something about my klutziness as a way of commenting on my black eye.

     Otherwise, it's a normal practice, maybe even more bearable than usual since the alternative to being there is being at work with Dres. I'm dreading my shift. I don't know how I'm supposed to act nonchalant when I feel anything but that.

     Coach lets us go after our last dirll and before I can think any of it through, I say, "Hey, Coach, can I stick around and work on my backstroke some more?"

     He pauses, thinking and then says, "Yeah, okay. You'll have to move to the last lane. The girls' team is coming in."

     I climb out of the pool, thankful for the excuse and go get my cell phone so I can call the store. Dolores picks up and I bless my lucky stars. "Hey Dolores, it's Calvin."

     "Morning, Calvin," she says cheerfully. "Hold on a sec. Dres is right here. I'll give him the phone."

     I start to protest, "No, that's okay—."

     But Dres is already picking up. "What's wrong?" he says into the phone. I can't read into Dres's tone on a normal basis, so over the phone I get absolutely nothing.

     Still, the sound of his voice makes my stomach toss and it's a strain to keep my voice flat. "I'm not going to be able to make my morning shift."

     There is silence on Dres's end and then he asks abruptly, "Why not?"

     "Coach wants me to work on my backstroke."

     "Is that right?"

     "Yep."

     "Then I'll see you in the evening."

     "Yep."

     He hangs up. I hold the phone to my ear, listening to the dial tone, already regretting my decision, thinking things might have been easier if I wasn't deliberately trying to avoid him.

     Halston and Grace are on my ass throughout most of my morning classes. I dodge them in the hallways so they keep sending me texts demanding to know what happened yesterday and why I never called.

     By lunch, there is nothing I can do to avoid them and the ensuing confrontation. "Look, tere's nothing to tell," I say once we grab food and pick a table to sit at. "It's not going to happen. He's not interested."

     "What do you mean he's not interested?" Grace snaps. "He took you on a date. Of course he's interested."

     I tell them about the date, skimping on the details because it doesn't help me trying to read into things that were clearly never there to begin with.

     When I finish, Grace and Halston are both quiet. I don't take it as a good sign so I say, "It's not a big deal. Okay, like I tried, and I'll get the next one, right?"

     "Cas," Halston says. "You don't know that this means Dres doesn't like you."

      "Yeah," Grace goes. "I feel like you're reading the whole thing wrong. It sounds like you guys had a good time. And now you're being weird. If anyone's giving mixed signals - it's you.'

     "You don't have to be kissed for a night out to be a date, you know," Halston says.

     Grace shakes her head. "Well I disagree there. He should've kissed you. But maybe consider he was just as nervous as you were."

     I expect Halston to snap at Grace for that, but she surprises me by nodding her head in agreement. "In a perfect world, yes, he should've kissed you. But people aren't perfect and sometimes you fumble it. Dating is scary and complicated. Doesn't mean you should just write him off."

     Grace gives Halston this look. It's strange seeing them agree on anything, anymore, but particularly this topic since they have such differing views on dating and romance.

     Halston says, "You avoiding him is just going to make matters worse."

    Grace nods. "Alternatively, you could just, you know, ask him what's up. You've already decided he doesn't like you so asking him straight up can't yield a response you're not already prepared for, right?"

     "Uhm, yeah, no. I'm definitely not bringing any of it. I'll stop avoiding him because I get that that's not really mature. But I can't handle a verbal rejection."