Because Finn offered his room to Aris, our parents decided it was fair enough that he would get alone time first.

They made a scheme. First, Finn spends two nights in Minho's room, and Minho and I in my room. Then I have two days alone in my room and the boys get Minho's room. Lastly, Minho gets his time in his room, and Finn and I share my room.

So now I'm in my room with Minho. The three of us all have beds that fit two people, so that's not an issue. Minho just finished putting everything down.

I'm still working on Thomas's shirt as he does. I sense him sitting down on my bed, probably with headphones on, so I continue working.

But at some point, I spin around on my chair, too curious. "Minho?"

He looks up. "Huh?"

I motion for him to take the headphones off, which he does with a quiet sigh.

"Yes?"

"What's your problem with Aris?" I ask slowly. "I mean, I agree that it's not fair that we have to give our rooms up, or the fact that Mom wanted you to be the one to do that at first, but come on. He's been struggling for years. It would be great if this made him feel better, right?"

"Yeah," is all he says.

"Yeah." I nod. My eyebrows scrunch, then raise. "So? Why all the comments towards him?"

"He's not the problem," Minho says. He pulls his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them. "As Thomas said, he seems fine. And he probably can't do anything about all of this."

I wait for him to continue. At first, it seems like he's not planning on continuing, then he puffs another breath away.

"And, well, you know— I don't like how Mom's dealing with it. She just randomly brings it up, 'oh, you won't mind giving away your room for a while, will you, Minho?'," he mimics.

"I get that. You can talk to her about it. Even though it's fixed now, just tell her you don't like that she decides things like that without discussing it."

"And I feel like they're replacing me. Us," he adds, neglecting my words.

I shake my head. "They're not," I assure. "Trust me, they—"

"Not you, maybe. You get good grades. You behave. Finn has reached a lot. I've got nothing. But I'm not the victim, so that's why I don't mention it. I did it to myself, after all."

"What do you mean?"

"Like I'm saying. I got those shitty friends and basically dropped Newt and Thomas and Alby."

"Drop them and go back to Newt, Thomas, and Alby," I reply. "They're not angry. Newt actually mentioned it seems more like y'all grew apart, not that you dropped him."

"Those friends will hate me forever."

"Let them."

He rubs his forehead, swallowing. "No. You don't understand. They do shit. To people they don't like. Or people that are easy victims. That's actually why I also became friends with them. So I wouldn't be the victim."

"So you became a follower," I state.

"Yes." He looks down in shame. "But I try to not participate in most of their actions."

"What kind of actions?"

"Stealing. Embarrassing the ones they don't like or the easy victims. Things like that." A short pause before he looks back up. "That's one of the reasons I also didn't like the idea of Aris coming here. Mom told us about his mental health problems, and I realized he'd be the perfect person they could bully."

"Then, Monday, you show up to school with him by your side, and you join us. Just quit talking to those 'friends'. Toxic friend groups like that secretly don't even like each other. They won't care."

"Maybe."

"Is that why your grades lowered?"

"Partly. I mean, did I ever get amazing grades?"

I smile a bit. "No, not really. But they were better before. You can go back to that. I can help you, since we're definitely forced to spend more time together now."

"I guess. And also, I didn't trust him at first. Still don't really do."

Right. Minho has some issues with trusting people. He keeps his thoughts and feelings away. Every time he shares something personal, he feels like it will be used against him. Maybe it will, so he's not exactly wrong for it.

Every compliment feels like a trap and promises seem like lies that are just meant to be exposed, he once told me.

"That's okay," I say. "You don't have to. Neither do you have to become best friends with him. Just respect him."

"I already do." He moves into a more comfortable position; no longer with his knees pulled up, but just lying on my bed. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower. Thanks for the therapy session, Momiette."

I want to comment about the new sudden nickname, but he has already closed the door behind him, leaving me alone.

I decide to tidy some things up. Lie Minho's headphones on my nightstand, put needles away, move my sewing machine on the exact spot it always stands.

And now? I look at the clock. It's only nine, and a Saturday evening. Minho will definitely not go to bed yet. I'm not tired, so I'm not going to either. I've spoken to Thomas the whole day and honestly have no idea what else to talk about with him now. Plus, I don't want to take in all of his time. Don't want to rude towards Teresa.

And I don't want my feelings to evolve even more.

Unknown Number

Hi Vi
This is Teresa! I was wondering if you wanted to go the cinema with me and Brenda tonight. It's in like half an hour. Sorry it's so sudden and late, but Sonya canceled last minute. We have a seat left

Oh, hi ! Sure, sounds good. What cinema?

The local one. Will you be okay with picking the ticket up at Sonya's house and then meeting us in front of the cinema? If not, I'm sure we can also pick it up

I'll be able to
See you there !

Byeee x

Well. Guess I no longer have to worry about being bored.

I have no idea what movie we're going to, but I don't even care. With a house full of men and one woman who's not interested in things like this, it's exactly what I want.

Just need a ride. Thomas is not an option. I have the exact same reasons as before (feelings, already talked to him the whole day, rudeness), but another one; how weird would it be to be brought to Teresa by her boyfriend.

So let's pray that Minho— never mind. He's showering, what takes like forty minutes.

Well, I do too, but I have my reasons. I need to shave, take a lot of care of my hair, scrub, clean... Minho just stands under the hot water for forty minutes straight.

Okay, maybe he does take a lot of care of his hair, but I would bet that's it.

Finn, then. Dad is never really in for late night activities.

"Finn?" I knock on the door of Minho's room. It opens in a second, revealing him in a normal state. "I'm going to the cinema with some friends. Can you please drop me off?"

He lets out a sigh that lets me know he's not exactly in the mood for going outside.

"Oh, don't worry. Otherwise, I'll just walk through the dark," I add. "Past the alleys, and cafes, and—"

"Okay, okay. I'll bring you," then he mutters, "Thank God you didn't let Thomas do it."

Last time Thomas and I went to the cinema, he somehow managed to walk us into a club instead. An interesting type of club.

I attack him with a hug. "Thank you!"

He pats my head in an attempt to get me off and walk downstairs. "Yeah, yeah— you're welcome, Bean."

One time, Minho shot a bean through the living room. It jumped around. Mirrored against walls and things like that. Finn 'connected dots' and realized I 'also jump around like a bean' so yeah.

Man, I need to come up with some nicknames. Thomas has Sage, Minho apparently Momiette, and Finn has Bean. Maybe I'll go back to calling Thomas by his second name, too. But his doesn't... roll like a nickname.

☯︎︎

"So, how was the movie?" Finn looks over his shoulder, at the backseat, where Teresa and I are sitting.

Brenda got picked up by her mom. Teresa called Thomas to ask if she could last minute spend the night at his. I didn't mention that past midnight, he is definitely no longer awake. He picked up after two minutes of ringing, probably sleepy. I don't know, I couldn't hear it.

"Really good," we reply, laughing. It was some kind of comedy-romance. I enjoyed it.

A few minutes later, Finn parks the car and we step out of it.

"Walk with me?" Teresa questions. "Thomas said you forgot something from when you showered there... your swimsuit, I think?"

"Oh. Right." I cough, embarrassed. "I only showered at his because it was really cold and he has two showers and—"

"It's fine, Vi," Teresa laughs as she speaks. "It's not me who has to pay for their water bill."

"...that was not what I was getting defensive about," I stammer, not specifically intending for her to hear it.

But yet she does hear it, and chuckles again. "I know. I don't mind. It's just a shower. And you've known him way longer than I have. I don't want to ruin your friendship. I trust you both. Seriously, hang out all you want. As long as it can't be considered cheating or things like that, I'm fine with it. But he wouldn't cheat, so—"

And she rambles on for a while. I now know, that I really can't mess it up. She trusts me. I don't really trust myself. I figured that out a few hours ago.

"That while I was afraid to ruin your relationship," I end up replying, chuckling. "Guess we were both afraid of the same thing."

She smiles at me. "I'm kind of glad about that."

I guess in some way, I also am. If only those idiotic feelings would go away. Like that, hanging out with Thomas while he has a girlfriend would actually be innocent.

So it's either finding a way to stop those feelings, or making sure they can't evolve, by just... not doing things like measuring his waist.

I'm then distracted by Thomas opening the door in his pajamas—pants with blue and white squares, and a white shirt—and pulling Teresa closer for a peck on her forehead.

Greeting me as normally, he lets us inside. I spot my swimsuit on a kitchen chair, take it, then look at the couple. "Guess I'm gonna go. Bye."

"We were planning on baking again, tomorrow morning. Do you wanna help?" Thomas asks.

"Might as well stay the night," Teresa adds.

A bit panicky, I shake my head. "No, nope. You two go enjoy baking and... your night. I'm gonna head off." I start walking backwards, towards the door. "It was a lot of fun, Tes."

I force a tight smile. My heart's pounding. I mutter another excuse as I grab my coat.

"Oh, wait." I laugh awkwardly. "I didn't even bring a coat. That's not mine." I do my best to hang it back up, but I'm too flustered for no reason to succeed, and it falls to the ground.

After my third attempt, I give up and hurry to the door, still facing Thomas and Teresa. "Yeah, alright. Good night. Sleep well. I'd love to bake with y'all, but I'm not a morning person. Willow tends to get anxious when no one's around him for a while."

"...your whole family is home, plus a bonus guy."

"Ah, right. Well, there's also like... deadlines tomorrow. A lot of them." I try my best to swallow stammers away. "And the weather! Can't risk getting home all wet because of the rain."

"You live across the street." Teresa steps forward, forcing Thomas's arm off his shoulders, and looks up and down at me, concerned. "Are you okay, Vi?"

"Internal crisis. But I should really just go now. Bye, see you." My worlds tumble over each other. I don't dare to dart my eyes towards Thomas as I finally step outside— the door's not open. I hit my back against it. I should probably turn around.

Hurriedly, I pull at the knob. Oh, wait. It's a thing to twist— finally. Fresh air meets me. I inhale, say goodbye one last time, then slam the door closed.

Waves and waves of embarrassment wash over me. I slam my forehead against the closed door, muttering. "I'm so stupid, I'm so stupid, I'm—"

"You're not stupid, Viviette," I hear both of them call from inside, in unison.

Most certainly am.

"Thanks," I puff out. Then I'm off.

Forever.

On my way to bury myself alive.

Why did I say all of that? They won't discuss this, will they? The idea of now facing them again, especially Thomas, is awful. How is he not going to notice that I might've started to like him a little bit too much?

Every step home is a repeat of this mortifying moment, replaying in my head. I groan by the time I arrive. Ring the bell impatiently and knock on the door until Minho finally opens.

"Good one AM to you too," he greets.

A frustrated sound escapes from me as I stamp past him. I want to lock my door, then realize he's also supposed to stay with me.

Just when I need time to think. Awesome.

I grab my laptop before Minho comes after me. My fingers work so fast on typing that the sentence barely makes sense, until autocorrect, as always, saves the day.

How do I lose feelings for my best friend?

Hm. Limiting how often we spend time together? Spend some time apart? Spend time in a group setting? Stay busy to distract myself?

I don't know. I've spent like half of my life with Thomas, if not three quarters. I can't just start ignoring him.

How do I lose feelings for my best friend who has a girlfriend? I add.

There are other people out there, it says.

Wow.

Take a few weeks just to feel the pain of loving him, and then get over it.

May I add ten question marks to that reply, instead of a dot?

Over time, you may fall in love with someone else.

Who said I was in love?! I want to yell that at the device.

How do I lose feelings for my lifetime best friend who has a very nice girlfriend I don't want to hurt?

One, avoid romanticizing or imagining scenarios in which you end up together.

Okay. I never did that anyway. What's two?

Two, engage in hobbies.

Yes, okay. Three?

Three, if the feelings are overwhelming or affect your well-being, consider a therapist or—

"How do I lose feelings for my lifetime best friend who has a very nice girlfriend I don't want to hurt?" Minho reads out loud.

I startle so badly that I nearly throw the laptop at his head.

Stop. Throwing. Things. At. People. Who. Scare. You. And— did he just...?

"It's not what it looks like," I peep.

"How sentimental," he says, arms crossed.

"I was just, you know, researching for... Brenda."

Minho tilts his head to the side. "Oh, sure, sure."

He doesn't believe me. Of course he doesn't. I was already panicking and now I'm panicking even more which makes me a really bad liar.

"It's curiosity," I then try. "Maybe I'm just interested in the psychology behind it."

"Right, because that's why it's so oddly specific. You've been hanging out with Teresa a lot lately, haven't you?"

"I can hangout with Teresa!" I defend.

"His very nice girlfriend, right? Does that very nice girlfriend know about your... little interest?"

"Stop it," I say, a bit firmer now. "Stop acting like you know what's going on. You're not Sherlock Holmes, and nothing is actually going on."

His grin fades a bit as he notices the true discomfort. "Alright, I'm sorry. But seriously, this here, is just not a psychological interest. I'm here to help, even without the jokes."

"Thanks. But let it go, okay? I'll handle it."

He gives me a pat on the shoulder before he makes his way to my bed. "You got it, Momiette."

"Don't tell anyone," I say.

"I won't."

"I mean it. Not a single person, Minho. All I want is to get rid of this feeling and for everything to go back to the way it was."

"I swear I won't tell anyone," he responds. "Don't listen to tips from Google, though. They're bad. For a whole week in my life, I believed Britney Spears was born in this town."

"I don't know where you found that information in the first place."

"Deep digging," he says. "But okay. You go overthink or make lovely scenarios about you and Thomas Stephen Reyes having little babies while I go catch some sleep. Good night."

I hate him.

Minho, I mean.

Not Thomas.

Okay, I also don't hate Minho.