I WALK INTO work with a 5 Seconds of Summer baseball cap hung low on my head. It's been a few days since the surfing competition, and although I'm beyond thrilled about the progress Jeremiah and I have made, I'm also sort of on the verge of running in front of a moving vehicle.

What Calvin and Amelia said is still ringing in my head, and I'm embarrassed that Jeremiah heard all of that. Part of me feels my heart melt whenever I think about him standing up for me, while the other self-conscious part is afraid of what he'll think of me.

Though I know that's stupid because over the last few weeks, it seems as if he is one of the only people in the world who doesn't judge me.

In the few hours I've been working, I've caught him looking over at me a dozen times. I know he has something to say, but I keep ignoring him and telling myself I'll talk to him later.

Well, now is later.

Because, apparently, Steven has noticed the weird tension between us and can't deal with it anymore.

"That's it," he says, sending me a look before calling out to Jeremiah who has his back turned to face the water. "Jeremiah!"

He looks behind him and sees us sitting at the snack bar. His eyebrows raise as his eyes find mine. I divert my attention down to my cuticles. He starts walking over, and I lift my head to glare at Steven who shoots me a lopsided grin.

"What's up?" Jeremiah greets. I feel his stare on the side of my head, but I keep my eyes locked on the sandwich sitting on the counter.

"I need a couple of mops from the storage closet. Do you and Rosie mind getting them for me please?"

Telepathically, I tell Steven that I'm literally going to kill him. He ignores my murderous gaze.

"Yeah, sure," the blonde boy beside me answers. He turns toward me and gestures over his shoulder. "Shall we?"

Nodding, I send Steven one last glare and then stand up to follow Jeremiah.

"Thanks guys!"

He sounds way too pleased with himself.

We're quiet on the way over to the storage room. I'm turning over what to say to him in my head to erase this tension, and I'm sure he's doing the same. When we reach the room, he holds the door open for me and I mumble a quick thank you as I walk in.

We're both inside near where the mops are kept when the door shuts behind us. Sharing a look, Jeremiah goes to try the doorknob.

The door doesn't budge.

"Fuck," he mutters before trying it again.

Steven Conklin, when I find you, I will make sure you never have a peaceful night of sleep ever again.

I walk up beside him and start banging on the door in case someone is outside and can hear. Jeremiah joins me, but we have no luck.

"Looks like we might be stuck in here for a while," he states.

I blow out a breath. "Looks like it."

I spare him a single glance before going to stand on one side of the room near where the mops are located. He follows suit and stands on the opposite side in front of me.

He rubs the back of his neck. "About the other day..."

He trails off, and I figure that he wants me to say something first.

I clear my throat. "Thank you for...you know. Defending me. I'm sorry about them. They've always been like that."

I try to laugh it off, but he doesn't seem to find it funny.

"Don't do that."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Play it off as if it's nothing. You think I can't see how much their words hurt you, but I can. And I hate that you feel like you have to shove down your feelings for people like them."

I blink. He stares at me in a way I haven't ever been stared at before, and I suddenly feel as if we're drifting into uncharted territory.

Clearing my throat, I break eye contact and look down at my lap.

"Autumn."

One word. Two syllables. A thousand butterflies swarming my stomach.

Desperate for a subject change, I ask, "Why do you always call me that?"

He purses his lips but doesn't say anything about me avoiding the subject.

"Call you what? Your name?"

Thankful for the shift back to our usual sarcastic quips, I roll my eyes.

"Everyone calls me Rose or Rosie, but you always call me Autumn."

He shrugs. "I like your name."

I narrow my eyes. "That doesn't explain anything."

He lets out a soft chuckle. "I don't know. I remember hearing your name for the first time and thinking it was pretty. But no one called you that, so I figured I'd just call you Autumn and then I never stopped."

I resist the urge to smile, though the corner of my lips quirks up.

"That was the name my biological parents gave me," I tell him. "My dad decided to make Rose my middle name so that's why everyone just calls me that."

He looks at me and smiles. "I didn't know that." He leans back against the wall. "No wonder you love it every time I call you Autumn."

I scoff. "Where the fuck did you get that idea?"

He smirks. "From the fact that you blush every time I say your name."

Heat rises to my cheeks, but I roll my eyes to hide it. "You're full of yourself."

He laughs and then we stand in silence for a few minutes, both lost in our own thoughts. And then I say something stupid.

"Why do you hate me?" I blurt out.

He quirks a brow at me. "I think the better question is why you hate me."

I send him a serious, intense look. The truth spills from my lips as if it's been waiting to for years.

"I don't," I say quietly.

A frown touches his mouth. "What?"

I sigh, biting my lip in hesitance. If I say it, that changes everything. If I say it, he'll have so many questions. If I say it, I will finally be able to breathe.

So I say it.

"I've never hated you, Jeremiah."

His eyes widen. "What are you talking about? You've hated me since we were kids."

"I didn't," I admit. "I only pretended to because you hated me after I called you a tiny toad."

He lets out a startled laugh. "Autumn, I didn't hate you because of that. I never hated you. I mean, yes, I sort of disliked you when we were kids. But I never hated you, and I definitely don't dislike you now."

I blink in surprise. "Wait. So all this time that we've been 'enemies,' you haven't actually hated me?"

He shakes his head. "What I'm more surprised about is that you've never hated me. I mean you teased me all the time and insulted me as if you really hated my guts."

I want to say it was because I wanted his attention. That I was desperate for it and that was the only way I knew to get it. But now's not the right time for that conversation because I know he won't feel the same way.

I'm quiet for a second.

"I'm sorry."

He lifts a brow in confusion.

"I'm sorry for insulting you and whatever," I continue. "I've just always been really bad at making friends."

He blinks. And then he takes a step in my direction.

"Are you saying you teased me because you wanted to be my friend?" he asks, voice so quiet I have to strain my ears to hear him.

I wince. "When you say it like that, I sound like a jerk."

He shakes his head and starts walking closer to me. The fresh scent of lemons and lavender causes me to take a step back. Except that one step makes my back hit the wall behind me. Jeremiah stops right in front of me, staring at me intensely.

"Are you serious, Autumn?" For a second, I think he's mad, but then he says, "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

I shrug. "I told you I don't know how to make friends. Why do you think my only friends are Vanessa and my brother?"

His throat bobs, and my eyes follow the movement.

His hand lifts and presses into the wall beside my head. He levels me with his gaze, eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't decipher in my wildest dreams. I swallow, taking in his sweet scent and trying not to let him hear my rapid heartbeat.

Just as he opens his mouth to say who knows what, the door swings open.

One of the other employees, Marcus, walks in. His eyes widen when he sees us.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he says. "I just needed to get some fresh towels."

I clear my throat, slipping away from Jeremiah.

"Go ahead," I tell Marcus, my voice sounding weird even to my own ears.

I can't look at Jeremiah as I leave.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 !

i think it's illegal that niall horan has a song called san francisco and he's not coming there for tour. the closest city he's coming to is mountain view which is the show i'm going to so hopefully he still sings san francisco??

also i have a love-hate relationship with the interchangeable setlist thing. like it's giving me anxiety about not getting my fav songs. if i don't get this town or still, i will scream.