"Hey, it's Raphael. Please leave a message after the beep!"

Alright. So the guy tells me to call him because he's apparently concerned, yet he doesn't even bother to answer? What a bitch. Remind me why I ever liked him again? Oh yeah, it's not very hard to remember, he's perfect in every way, and be usually keeps his word. I'll just leave a message.

"Hey," I spoke into the phone, swallowing the anger in my voice, "It's Freya. I'm home safe. Just wanted to let you know. Anyway, hope you have fun with… whatever you're doing. I'll bring your jacket in to you tomorrow. Um… see you." I hung up, collapsing back onto my bed and throwing a pillow over my face. I felt like such an absolutely cliché teenager, worrying over her crush that she's had for five years and leaving awkward phone messages.

I sighed, then heard my voice called from the kitchen. I tugged shorts on underneath my long shirt and made my way out of my room.

"Yeah?" I leaned into the room, swinging my body around the ledge. My aunt turned around to beam at me, her face making me shudder slightly. She looked just like my mom, though I knew she was completely different, so I allowed my breath to escape that I had been holding.

"Your friend Raphael is here."

All I could say was a small "oh" and then ask if it was because of homework or something. He shook his head.

"I was around, so I just decided to stop by. Figured that would be better than just calling to talk, anyway."

I narrowed my eyes at him suspiciously, but nevertheless lead him into my room. I sat on my bad and he collapsed into my bean bag, his face giving away that he had something to talk to me about. That something that must've been the reason he came over.

"Spit it out," I crossed my arms, looking at him expectantly. He gazed sheepishly at me, and finally spoke

"You just seemed sad earlier. I came so you could talk to me."

My eyes widened. Guess he was as good at reading me as I was him. I quickly turned my surprised look into one of disdain. "No. I'm fine." I guess at this point he knew I was lying. I tried too hard to hide my feelings.

"Freya, you can tell me." His attractive face softened, warm eyes locked on my colder ones.

"I actually cannot tell you," I stood, laughing nervously as I obsessively began putting things away. Stress cleaning, you could call it.

"Freya," suddenly a hand latched around my arm. I tensed. "I'm here for you."

I shut my eyes. He wouldn't stop. "The only reason I left quickly was because I have a math paper due." Lies were stacking up, their cover threatening to blow. He already knew though, and he pulled me back towards him. My back was flat against his chest, and I felt my heart gain in speed as his head rested atop mine.

"Whatever it is," his voice was a featherweight, gentle on my hair. "I won't pry. Just know you can call me whenever and I'll be there."

His hands slowly wrapped around me, squeezing me once before leaving me cold and empty. "Keep my jacket," he said, more of a demand than a request. "It's freezing out there."

   Sure is.