It Started with a Bet...

A large body slips into bed next to me, reeking of disorientation and alcohol.

"Leave me the frick alone!" The body mutters. "I don't frikkin' drink!" I freeze for a moment.

"Trevor?" There's no response. The body beside me stiffens in shock. "Trevor?" I roll out of bed and turn on the bedroom light. A messy-haired, wrinkled-shirted Trevor is lying stock still on my bed. He squints against the light. "Trevor, have you been drinking?" He sits up slowly and ruffles his own hair. Still looking good, damn it.

"I don't drink." Really?

"Then why are you so disoriented?" I freeze. "You didn't drive yourself home, did you?"

"Why does it matter? I'm not drunk." I pretty much jump him without thinking. He falls back with a thud on my bed. I lean forward and sniff his breath. Odd. No alcohol. So then the smell from before...I look down and realize that his shirt is wet. Moving off quickly, I look down at him.

"Why's your shirt wet?" He grabs my pillow and thumps it over his flushing face. I suddenly realize how awkward what I just did was.

"They wanted me to drink. And I knew I had to drive home, so I declined. But they were drunk so they kept forcing it on me. And it ended up on my shirt." I nod.

"And you're here why?" His face turns red again.

"I forgot you were down here. Usually I crash here if I'm too tired. My parents usually don't notice."

"Parties seem like such a pain," I said, rolling my eyes. Trevor shrugs and then sits up suddenly.

"Food. Did you save me any?" I nod.

"I left some in the fridge." He nearly jumps off the bed in his attempt to get to the door. I shut the lights and turn to go back to bed.

"Hold on." I freeze as Trevor grabs my hand. "Come eat with me." I shake my head, then realize he can't see me in the dark.

"I already ate."

"Well then, just keep me company."

"There's school tomorrow, you know that right?" There's a pause. "I'm hella tired, so I'm gonna go to bed. Okay?" Trevor drops my hand and opens the door to my room.

"Okay. Sweet dreams."
***
I settle slowly into my seat as the bell rings. As expected, I'm exhausted. Stupid Trevor coming home at one in the morning. I'm not used to sleeping that late. First period I was able to struggle through, but now it was fourth. My stomach was grumbling and my eyes were droopy. It's too late to go sit in the back, the bell's already rung and the teacher's looking at us all expectantly. Stupid Trevor.

"Class," says Mr. Bendis calmly. He's a tall man, with a shot of dark hair and a rather large stomach. He's one of the few teachers on campus who treats us like a college class as opposed to an immature high school one. I guess that's what comes from being in an advanced math class. But with that respect he gets respect. So when he stands in front of us and says "Class." We shush one another and look up at him.

He motions to someone outside the door and a kid walks in.

"I know it's been a month since school started, but let's welcome an exchange student from Belgium. This is Corey."

Bright brown eyes flick around the classroom from underneath long dark hair. Most kids smile back, but I don't. I just lay my head on my desk and eye him up and down. Good build, good bone structure. I give him two periods to get snapped up by the crew. Though if he's in the smart math class... He catches my eye and smiles. Never mind. Not even the smart math class will stop them.

"There's an empty seat by Haley, why don't you sit down?" Corey nods and sits next to me. Another great benefit of sitting near the front, I guess. No one really wants to be up there, so you end up with a bunch of empty seats.

"Haley, huh?" I find myself lost in his face. The jawline, the skin tone, the shapes of the nose, eyes, eyebrows, even, makes me want to whip out my sketchbook. Better looking than Trevor by a long shot. His hand waving before my eyes breaks my concentration.

"Oh, sorry. You look kind of familiar, so I was trying to see if I could place you. Did you say something?" a total lie, but good enough so that he wouldn't know that I was staring. He smiled and looked me up and down. Gah, why'd I give him a reason to check me out? I began to feel a little self conscious.

"doesn't seem likely. I'm from Belgium, remember?" I feel like headdesking. Time for a subject change.

"What's Belgium like?" He shrugs.

"Green."

"Everyone asks you that, don't they?" I say with a laugh. There we go, Haley, back to how you should be.

"Yeah. What I want to know is, what's America like?"

The proper response, I know, is "I can show you some time." But I have no desire to show him around. He's too good-looking.

"How long have you been here for?"

"A couple weeks. Haven't really had time to look around. What kind of stuff do you guys do for fun around here?"

Tcsh. He picked the wrong person to ask that question. But I can't point that out.

"How about you hang out with me and my friends during lunch?" He smiles and leans back as the lesson begins.

"Sounds good."
***
"Who's that?" Trevor asks in annoyance as Corey walks to the car with me.

"I'm Corey," he says with a smile, holding his hand out for shaking. "I'm an exchange student from Belgium." Spike warms up to him immediately, teaching him the proper guy greeting involving a hand grip and a side chest bump. Trevor's eyes bore down on me.

"You invited him along?" I shrug. "Are you betting on him, too?"

"Dude, just chill!" says Matt with a laugh with an arm around Clarice. I look at her questioningly. When did they start going out? She blushes and mouths "Last week" at me. I smile and shake my head.

We head to Taco Bell, Spike driving and Corey riding shot gun. Matt pulls Clarice onto his lap in the back. Janice sits alone by the window. Ironic, isn't it? Corey turns to look at us.

"So are you two going out?" Trevor's hands tighten around my waist and he opens his mouth to speak.

"No." I say simply. "There isn't enough room in the car." I turn to Clarice and hand her her seatbelt. She puts it on over her and Matt, causing Corey to open his mouth in question. Spike taps his arm and shakes his head.

"I'll explain later," he mouths.
***
"Hey, Spike said he'd show me around town tonight. Wanna come?" Ah, so he heard about Trina and feels sorry for me. I shake my head. "Why? Don't you do fun stuff anymore?" I sigh. The last thing I need is another psychiatrist on my tail. I sneak a glance at Trevor, who is oh-so-subtly attempting to listen to our conversation.

"What time?"
***
"You're leaving." I realize when I get home that I made a huge mistake. Today is Monday. Which means that Trevor's parents are on their shift.

"Come with us. I'll say I invited you because we're neighbors." He shakes his head, but when Spike and Corey pull up to my house, he comes out of his place and sits in the back with me.

"We're neighbors," I explain to Corey.

"So you must be close." I shake my head.

"Not especially." Trevor looks out a window and doesn't respond. Corey nods and turns back around. Trevor and I are silent on our way into town. Spike and Corey talk about Belgium. I look out the window, all the landmarks bringing back memories. It's been a long time.

Spike parks the car in one of the parking buildings and we all get out. We start walking down the block. Spike points out the different hang outs. Jamba Juice, Pizza Hut, the karaoke place. We turn down the street.

"What's over here?" Corey asks, surprised that we're turning away from the rest of the restaurants. Spike wiggles his eyebrows.

"This is where the girls hang out." I stop. Uh....no. No thanks. Trevor stops a little ways ahead of me.

"You're not coming?" Spike and Corey turn around.

"I don't think it's a good idea to be around while you pick up chicks," I say with a fake, wavering smile. I used to hang out around here. A lot.

"We can wait at the Jamba Juice," Trevor says with concern. My face must've closed down. That's what I used to do when my therapist "tested" me. It's like a reflex now. They'll never know how many memories it brings back. They'll think I forgot. Odd, no one's ever noticed it before.

"Actually, I feel like eating," says Corey, walking back towards me. "What's your favorite hangout?" I shrug.

"The karaoke place," I say.

"Let's go!" Corey yells, pumping his fist in the air.

"Go, go, GO!" Yells Spike, once he's gotten over the fact that we're not checking out girls. He puts his hands on my shoulders and jumps up and down. I giggle before I can stop myself. Trevor follows us almost grudgingly.

I don't sing today. I just sit and watch Spike and Corey goof off. Trevor sits next to me, steaming.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask.

"Why do you stop yourself from having fun?"

"W-what are you talking about?" I stutter. He noticed?

"Yeah, I noticed. You'll almost laugh, and then you'll stop yourself. Like you're not allowed to have fun. Why? What did you do wrong?" I can't tell him. He'll laugh at me. He won't understand.

"It's because of Trina, isn't it?" I look up at him, wide-eyed.

"We're gonna go get drinks," says Spike, his attention caught by Trina's name. He grabs Corey's elbow and drags him away.

"What does this have to do with Trina?" I ask slowly.

"My mom said soemthing about your parents trying to force you to forget Trina. Is it true? Is that why you're like this? Because you have to remember her?"

"Want. I want to remember her." I say, looking down.

"You can remember her and still have fun," Trevor says earnestly, leaning forward to look into my face. I comb my bangs over my face with my fingers, but he pushes them away with his hand. "Trina would want you to be happy."

"Don't say things you know nothing about, Trevor," I say slowly, though I know he's right. Trina would want me to be happy. But right now, in a world where no one remembers Trina, me being happy would be too much. If I let myself forget her once, there's nothing, no one to bring me back.

"I know she'd want you to be happy," Trevor insists. "Don't punish yourself for something that isn't your fault."

"I don't blame myself," I say.

"Then why do you do this to yourself? Why do you giggle only when you can't help it? Why do you look so annoyed with yourself afterwards? Why don't you go to parties? Why don't you get out and do something? Why don't you make friends? Why, Haley? Why?"

I'm silent. He takes a deep breath and leans back next to me.

"I'm sorry," he says finally. "I just don't like seeing you like this. I don't like to see you hurting."

"Neither did my parents," I say finally, leaning back as well. He stiffens at the comparison.

"I don't want you to forget," he says. "I just want you to explain it to me." I'm silent. "Don't worry. I'm not asking you to say anything now. I just want you to remember something. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

Relief washes over me. I thought he'd try to force it out of me.

"Thank you," I say quietly. "I thought if I told you who I was you'd get pushy and try to force me to get better." He shakes his head.

"Never. I want you to be yourself, that's all. If I can help you I will, but I don't want to force you." I let out a deep sigh as I feel my eyes mist over. I wanted to hear that from my parents. From my therapist. From anyone. And here they are. The words I needed to hear for so long.

"Are you going to cry?" Trevor asks. I let out a chuckle.

"I don't cry."

"Not even when she died?" He's incredulous.

"Nope."

"That's not healthy." I get up to help Spike with the drinks.

"Don't be silly."