"Bella, have you ever considering going to therapy?"

Yes, I had. Would I admit that? Never. I had nothing against it, but the idea of going to talk about my petty problems seemed inconsiderate, especially when more broken people needed it. I was hardly broken, just a girl who needed a stranger to talk to.

Instead, I took on a more sarcastic approach. "I thought you were my therapist. I quite enjoy our free therapy sessions." I innocently batted my lashes at Mr. Cullen, who seemed rather amused by my reaction.

"Yeah, I might have to start charging you for that," he replied with a hint of teasing. In a flash, his face dripped of seriousness and I knew the conversation was taking a turn for the worst. "Bella, I'm serious though. You've stopped talking to me, I know you aren't talking to your friends either. I'm worried. You've been handling everything a little too well."

When he said talking, he obviously meant about my problems. It was true. I hadn't really told anyone what thoughts were looming through my mind. But I didn't see how that was a problem. I was totally fine.

"There's nothing to talk about."

His eyes narrowed into paper-thin slits. "Not even about a certain Cullen brother?"

I looked down at the desk I was sitting on. My hands ran over the smooth wood. Without ever lifting my gaze, I answered, "No. There's nothing to talk about."

"But–"

"If you're going to pester me, I'm going to leave," I threatened. Albeit it was a weak threat, but I knew Damien well enough to know he didn't want that. After all, we were hanging out without the presence of a classroom of students after so long. I'd finally decided to swing by after school after what seemed like weeks.

He continued his wary stare but eventually dropped the subject. He focused on the computer screen in front of him. His fingers moved like lightning as he noisily typed on the keyboard.

The silence that set between us made me wonder if my company was no longer wanted. After a good two minutes of only the clicks coming from the keyboard, he finally spoke. "Are you excited about the wedding stuff?"

A grin cracked on my face. "Yes! I've never been asked to be a bridesmaid before! Granted, no one I know is old enough to get married, but still. Hopefully, this'll be good practice for when I really am."

I was more than relieved he changed the topic, more so about the wedding. Although we've only done the cake tasting, it was exhilarating to be included in something. I could go on for hours how excited I was.

Mr. Cullen frowned and pulled away from the screen. His dark eyes assessed my features as if he was trying to figure something out. "What do you mean 'when you really are'?"

I nervously chewed on my lip and looked anywhere but his scrutinizing eyes. For the first time, I was about to admit something that was roaming around my mind for a while. Damn Mr. Cullen! He always found a way for me to confide in him without trying. "I know Nat asked me to be a bridesmaid because I was dating Dean and she felt guilty if she didn't."

The words sounded weird out loud, but it was exactly what I've been thinking. Why else would she want me as a part of her wedding party? I was just her little brother's girlfriend. She was just being nice with the offer.

I was well aware of how insecure I sounded at the moment. I hated it. It left a weird taste in my mouth.

As I feared, Mr. Cullen laughed at me. I internally recoiled, bracing myself for him to mock me, to tell me everything I said was completely true. It was a sickening feeling. This is exactly why I never opened up to anyone anymore.

Didn't I do that to Dean? Didn't he throw it in my face by leaving me soon after?

To my complete surprise, he rounded his desk and threw his hands around me, still softly chuckling. I was too stunned to hug him back. What exactly was he doing?

He pulled away but kept his hands clamped on my shoulders. "Bella, is that really what you think?" My silence was his answer. "Man, I forgot how oblivious you are."

My brows raised. If he was trying to make me feel better, he wasn't doing a good job.

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked down at me. "Nat's going to be pissed if you ever think like that again." He playfully shook his head. "Hell, I'll get pissed if you think like that. Bella, you can't possibly feel this way, right?"

I averted my eyes away from his piercing brown ones. Instead, I focused on his light blue dress shirt. It was smooth, without a single wrinkle. It was a weird reminder that Damien was actually an adult with his own place. Sure, he could be immature when he wanted to, but it was far from reality. He was a grown-ass man, yet he was here soothing my doubts.

He bent down so we were eye level. "Even if you hadn't met Dean, she still would've known you. Hell, I probably would've brought you over myself."

I scrunched up my nose. "You're too old for me."

"I'm not that old." He rolled his eyes playfully. "And what I'm trying to say is that you've nudged your way into our life, whether you like it or not. I'm starting to think of you like a sister, as weird as that is. I know Natalie feels the same way too. If she didn't, then she wouldn't have asked. And if you think she asked because she felt obligated, she would've dropped you the minute she found you and Dean were no longer dating."

"Obligated is a big word. Where'd you learn that?" I mumbled, trying to make sense of what he was telling me.

"Bella, I'm an English teacher," he pointed out. Right. I often forgot about that. "I'm serious. Now, I'm putting it nicely. If you still can't get this through your thick skull, I'll be more than happy to tell Nat about this little encounter. She'll probably dent your head beating the sense into you."

I choked out a laugh. She would definitely do that.

And now I felt stupid for having these doubts in the first place. Damien was right. Natalie wasn't the type to let someone get close to her with malicious intent. She obviously wanted me by her side.

And Damien? He often surprised me with his sensibility. He could be immature when he wanted to, but he also knew when he had to step up and be responsible. If he had laughed in my face–for the wrong reasons–then I would've broken down, because quite frankly, I couldn't lose my new family. They were more loving than my current one, which hurt a little.

And worst of all, I felt guilty for even comparing Dean's family to him. They weren't nearly as heartless as he was. I knew they'd look out for me. If they didn't care, they would've been long gone by now.

"Thanks," I sniffed, shaking my head of all the doubts that managed to climb through. Everything was okay now. "Damien? I have another question."

His warm eyes encouraged me to continue. I just hoped he wouldn't make fun of me for asking, but his previous benevolence made me think he wouldn't.

"So, I get that as Dean's ex, you guys liked me a lot, hence why I was asked to be a bridesmaid. But what about Skylar? You guys seem to like her a lot, so why wasn't she asked? Especially because she's back now?"

His eyes widened. I knew this was the last question he'd ever expect me to ask. Hell, I didn't expect to ever say it aloud. My curiosity was burning and with his history of not being judgemental, I figured now was as good as a time as any.

When I found out Skylar didn't know about the diner, I felt smug. Of course I would be. For once, I had the advantage over her, even if it got me nowhere. I knew about something she didn't.

But as time went on, I got a little suspicious. Just how close was she with Dean? From the way they talked, I figured they told each other everything. So why didn't she know about the diner? Maybe it just slipped his mind and I was reading too much into this. That was the probable reason. Still, I couldn't help but be wary.

Damien barked out a loud laugh, clutching his stomach and such. He took a couple of steps back and fully let himself bend over to emphasize just how funny my question was.

If it had been a few minutes earlier, his reaction would've been a punch in the gut. Now I knew Mr. Cullen's reactions were just as unstable as his mental health was. This could've meant anything.

As his laughter died down, he wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "You crack me up. What makes you think we like Skylar?"

I furrowed my brows. "Uh, when I asked you and Nat about her, both of you didn't really give me assuring answers. I just assumed..."

"Bella, Bella, Bella," he tsked. "First of all, you need to stop assuming things. Second, that doesn't mean we like her. We only said that stuff because we've dealt with her before."

"And you were right."

He cocked his head, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Listen, you have nothing to worry about."

"You're right," I declared. "There's nothing to worry about because there's nothing between Dean and me anymore."

How did we manage to get back on this topic? I had no idea.

"But-"

Déjà vu much?

"No, I don't wanna talk about it," I sighed, looking away from his judgemental face. "I was just curious, okay? And now I get that Skylar isn't that liked by the Cullen family."

"I can promise you that you're much more liked than that little–"

"Wow," I laughed, actually feeling better. His annoyance with me disappeared as he scanned my face. "Didn't know you felt that strongly about her."

He ignored my comment. "Are you feeling better?"

Right. For a moment I had forgotten about the whole embarrassing spiral I went on.

I nodded. "Yeah. Thank you. You're surprisingly helpful for someone who's immature. I guess your wisdom has to do with your age..."

His hand clutched his chest. "Ouch, you're killing me here."

"Me or the heart problems?"

His face fell flat. "You suck. I'm not even that old."

I wanted to continue the old jokes but I bit my tongue. "Seriously, thank you. I'd be an insecure mess right now if you weren't here. And I'm sorry for assuming everything."

"Yeah, you need to give me some credit! If I truly hated you, I'd shun you," he said seriously, but the teasing look gave it away.

I hopped off the desk and dusted my pants. "Alright, I should head out now. I have a very important meeting," I sighed, trying to hide my nervousness. Damien's confused look showed that he was dying to ask what I meant by that, but he didn't.

And I was thankful.

The drive home was distracting. Although I felt considerably lighter, the nerves took over quickly. It seemed like I could never catch a break from worrying.

At least it was a nice distraction.

I pulled into my empty driveway even though my house wasn't my destination. After locking my Jeep twice, I walked over to Andrew's house. I decided that focusing on my anger would keep me more focused than being nervous.

After ringing the doorbell twice, Mrs. Boyce opened the door. Her face lit up in surprise. "Bella! How are you?"

"Great, Mrs. Boyce. Is Andrew home?" It was a rhetorical question because I already knew the answer. His car didn't go unnoticed.

She nodded and took a step back, letting me enter the house. "Drew! Bella's here to see you!" She turned to me with a warm smile. "You can go on up."

"Thanks," I said before running up the stairs. A year ago, entering his house for a non-party event would've been a dream come true. Now it was just the norm.

I walked down the hallway and stopped at the third door to the left. With a soft knock, I slightly opened the door. It was more to warn him of my presence. I didn't wanna walk in on him naked or anything.

When I got no response, I peeked in. Drew was lying on his bed over the covers. His top half was naked, putting his abs on display. His head was propped up on pillows. One of his arms covered his eyes, flexing his biceps. The other hand was drumming against his abdomen. If it weren't for that, I'd think he's sleeping.

His lack of response was explained by the headphones plugged into his ears. I opened the door wider and made sure to make as much noise as possible. None of that mattered. His music was so loud I could hear it.

His eyes were closed under his arm. I gently poked his cheek.

I was met with ocean blue eyes as Drew startled. "Jesus!"

"No, it's Bella," I teased. He yanked the headphones out of his ears and sat up. "Sorry for scaring you."

He waved a dismissive hand. "No biggie. What's up?"

"I can't visit a friend?" Ugh, I was deflecting.

His brows furrowed as he scanned my face. "You can, but this has nothing to do with that. Why are you here?"

Sometimes he read me too well.

I awkwardly cleared my throat and sat down on his bed, across from him. His curious eyes watched my every move. I distracted myself from scanning his room. The last time I'd been up here was during the summer.

Not much had changed. It was still as clean as ever. His white walls were decorated with random posters. His queen-sized bed was still wrapped in a gray sheet set. His school supplies were neatly stacked on his desk. Drew had the cleanest room I'd ever seen for a teenage boy.

"Bella, is everything okay?"

I took a deep breath and played with the hem of my shirt. I wasn't sure which topic to start with.

I chose the less awkward one first. I turned to him with a worried expression. His eyes softened as they drank up every inch of my face. "Drew, why do you keep leaving practice early?"

I noticed this when Ben and I went to the diner. Since then, Drew's car had pulled in right before mine did. I even asked Justin about it to make sure I wasn't crazy. He'd been skipping out on practice.

I could tell he was contemplating whether he should lie or not. It was useless though. I already knew the facts. I just wanted to know the reason behind them.

He took a nervous breath and tore his gaze away from me. "I got injured at practice."

My eyes widened. I was around enough football players to know whatever injury Drew had was serious. He wouldn't skip for a small cut. Whatever he did forced Coach to cut back his practice hours.

"The doctors told me to lay off on the playing until it fully heals," he softly added.

I didn't bother asking what happened. I wouldn't understand anyway. "How long will that take?"

He shrugged with a pained face. "They don't know. I need to go in for more imaging, but it could last anywhere from days to months."

"And that means you won't be able to play for college scouts," I finished. He somberly nodded and looked away.

I had no idea what to say. When I questioned him earlier, I figured it was something dumb, like he'd been put on probation. I never expected him to tell me his life was ruined.

Drew was an avid football player. He wanted to make a career out of it since middle school. He'd always boast to his friends about how good he was at practice. And now that it was potentially out of the question? I could only imagine he'd be crushed.

He noticed my miserable face and cleared his throat to get my attention. I realized I haven't said anything. He looked so broken and pained, I needed to be the strong one for him. I put an arm on his outstretched calf. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Maybe everything will go right."

"Yeah," he sighed.

"Drew, you just gotta have faith. Maybe it's not as bad as you think. If you want, I don't mind coming when they tell you."

His face lit up. "You'd do that for me?"

I rolled my eyes with a smile. "Of course! What're friends for?" His grin faltered, giving me the perfect segway into the next topic. "Unless you hate me by then."

"What're you talking about? I could never hate you."

"You might," I mumbled, focusing on my lap. Then I realized this was an eye-contact type of conversation, so I forced my eyes to his concerned ones. "Look, I might be completely off, so tell me if I am, okay?"

"Okay?"

I took a deep breath. "Drew, when I said I wanted to be friends, I meant it. But I couldn't help but notice that since we've grown closer, you've stopped hooking up with girls. If it's because you think we'll get together..." I swallowed. "I just... I don't see you like that."

He flashed me a sad smile, confirming my accusations. "I know. And I'm willing to wait–"

"No, Drew." I hoped it wouldn't come to this. "It's not going to happen. Look, you've been a great friend and maybe in another lifetime, we'd be happy together, but not this one." My words sounded harsher than I intended, but there was no taking it back now.

I let him process it for a minute. I tugged on the hem of my shirt while he looked down at his own lap with an unknown emotion.

He let out a strangled laugh, making me look up at his grimace. Somehow I knew it wasn't directed toward me. "I fucked up by not telling you my true feelings earlier, right?" I nodded, causing him to let out another humorless laugh. "If I did, we'd be so good together."

He was right. If he had just cut the bullshit years ago, we'd probably be together right now. Instead, he had to put his pride in front of him and take a different route.

"I don't want you to put your life on hold for me. Go whore around," I laughed, hoping to break the tension a little. "And I understand if you don't want to be friends anymore."

He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. "I think... I think I need some time away from you."

Although I hadn't expected him to be all rainbows and sunshine, his words stung a little. It was completely understandable though. If the roles were reserved, I'd need space too. I nodded, perfectly masking my hurt. "I completely understand." I got off the bed and smoothed down my pants. "And if you ever need me, you know where I live."

He stiffy nodded. I took that as my cue to leave. With one last look at his face, I walked out of the room, wondering if I lost a good friend.

I hoped not. Andrew had been amazing in Dean's absence. Unlike my other friends, he never made me feel dumb for missing him or worrying. Even though he had a massive crush on me, he put his feelings aside to let my rant about the boy I loved.

I walked out of his house like a zombie. I wondered if I'd ever walk these halls in broad daylight again. Had I ruined our bond by rejecting him?

No matter the outcome, I didn't regret it. I thought he was over me but he clearly held a sliver of hope. I couldn't lead him on any longer. If it took him hating me for me to stop hurting him, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Bye, Mrs. Boyce," I yelled into the house. I walked through the front door before waiting for a response.

Every bad thing I ever thought about Andrew vanished in the blink of an eye. Deep down he was just a boy who cared too much. He always acted sweet around me, even if I didn't deserve it. He was a good friend.

Just a friend.

~

This is kinda weird but I finished watching The Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and C[h]at Noir like two days ago and that last line reminded me of Adrien and Mar lmaooo.

Anyway. This was another filler chapter. Aren't the Deanless/Benless ones boring? Damn.