Something Beautiful.

Comfort, Maine, isn't really all that comfortable.

It's like the quilt your grandma made you when you were a baby. In theory, it's a sweet memory. The reminder of youth and innocence. Something cute to look at. But as soon as you cover yourself with it, the cuteness makes up for nothing. It's itchy, and smells like old people, plus it barely covers your feet because you've grown five feet since you were a child. But at the same time you have to be grateful for it because it's something that keeps the majority of you warm at night, and something that maintains your innocence, even as you've lost it over the years.

That's Comfort.

I guess it's not really that bad. The people are nice, not that I've met anyone aside from the teachers and kids in my classes. I haven't even left the house, aside from that one time Mom took us to some local diner and Jules was actually working at it. It was weird but Nick enjoyed himself.

The weather isn't to shabby. A little chilly but that's good because I can wear my hoodies without getting any weird looks. I mean aside from the weird looks because my hoodies are always a couple sizes too big. I can also wear my beanies without my neck getting hot, and it gives me an excuse to stay in the house while Nick goes to cross-country meets to cheer on a guy he barely knows.

School is school, obviously, here in this little town. The only difference from the city being that there's about a million less people. But there are more people than the homeschooling back at the flat, considering it was just me and my online teacher lady.

Sometimes I seriously miss those days.

I've made... friends. And by friends I mean Madison and my brother's two new best buds. And there's actually people I can tolerate and see myself opening up to. And by people, I mean two people. Madison- no big surprise there, considering she is exactly like me and hates people too. And then there's the surprising one.

Shane.

I don't know what it is about him exactly. He makes it easy to talk, easy to open up. He is just so naturally friendly that I can't help but find myself being attracted to more than to his physical appearance. Yeah, I'm mean I'm starting to like his personality too. As more than just a friend.

It might be because he's just so goddamn cute though! I mean, honestly, every time I see him I damn near fall out of my chair because he is literally the cutest boy I have ever laid eyes on. His smile drives me absolutely insane. That one dimple just about makes me cream my pants. Don't even get me started on his curls either! He hardly ever forgets to straighten his curls but the longer his hair gets the harder they are to hide. Gah! Fucking curls that drive me fucking off my rocker!

It should be illegal for someone to be as attractive as him.

He is literally way better looking than all those male models and movie stars and pop stars. Aside from Josh Franceschi- he is legitametly the most attractive person on the face of the planet. But Shane definitely gives him a ride for his money, plus I know Shane. I talk to Shane.

I don't know, it's not like I'm out or anything so I can't do anything about my feelings. Besides, they aren't even that advanced. He just meets up with me after school four out of five days and goes over notes from French. He talks to me like I'm a person and doesn't seem put off when I refuse to make eye contact, or hide behind my hands. It doesn't annoy him like it annoys everyone else. It's like he doesn't care that I'm a completely hiddeous freak and he makes me feel... I don't want to sound stupid here, but he makes me feel human again. Like maybe what Rosco did to me isn't as bad as it really is. Like maybe there's still hope in the human race and I can trust again.

It's stupid, I know. He's only one boy and he is just super friendly. I'm pretty positive he just sees me as Nick's kid brother that he has to help out. Or the loner kid he feels sorry for. Now that wouldn't surprise me.

I'm so depressing. I mope around in my room, or watch movies, or get online and read unpublished, teenaged, fan girl authors stories who write about more homosexual relations than should be possible, and my big brother goes out and hangs with the guy I'm pinning for and the out-of-his-fucking-mind best friend.

I'm pathetic. But it's not like that's going to change any time soon. I'll stick with Madison and we can be hermit crabs together.

"You know," Madison says to me as we walk towards our English class together. We'd just separated from my brother and his new best friends with hardly a goodbye. Today I'm wearing an orange hoodie and a pair of light wash skinny jeans that are tighter than what I normally wear. Thankfully the hoodie falls over my crotch and ass so no one knows they are.

Madison, on the other hand, is wearing a pair of lime-green skinny jeans and a shirt that hits midthigh, a floral print, with a white cardigan over top and a pair of ankle-boots to match. I have to admit the girl has style, no matter how odd her frizzy hair looks with it all. She is seriously such an odd character that if I were the same Noah I was back in December, I never would have thought of being friends with the likes of her.

And quite frankly, that thought sickens me.

"Shane is always staring at you," Madison finishes what she was saying as we enter the classroom and head to the back where we always sit beside each other. I always thought nerds sit in the front of the classroom and raise their hand at every question, but apparently not. Go figure.

"I know," I mumble, putting my right hand over the right side of my face. With my left eye I look at Madison as she sits down and brushes the hair out of her face. Not much good that does. "It's weird."

"I think he likes you." She says, and it literally nearly knocks me out of my seat.

I cover the left side of my face up and duck my head down, listening as the teacher walks in and demands quiet as she marks attendence on her computer. I can feel Madison staring at me but I refuse to look at her. It's not that I'm embarrassed by what she said, I know she's delusional and someone as attractive as Shane could never like someone as henous as me. I'm embarrassed that she said another boy liked me so casually. I never told her I was gay! If she thought I was straight then she wouln't say shit like that nonchalantly! You don't tell a straight male another male likes them, it's just...weird!

"Why's that such a big deal?" She says lowly, but I shake my head and refuse to come out of my covering. She doesn't mind when I hide my face like this. At least she's never said anything before. So I only assume she isn't weirded out. "C'mon Noah. Everyone knows Shane is gay, it isn't a secret."

I still don't say anything. If I can't see her, maybe she can't see me. Maybe I won't be able to hear her, either.

"I mean... Your'e gay too, right?"

I drop my head onto my desk, and can feel people look back at me, but I still keep my face hidden. I am so not friends with Madison anymore. She isn't cool at all. She's a freak. A freak jerk. I hate her.

"I mean, no offense, but you sort of just scream gay." She drops her voice down to a whisper, scooting her chair a little closer to mine.

Yeah, I'd rather be a hermit crab by myself. Forget Madison.

"Shane is really cute, too. I mean, he has to like you, or at least find you attractive. He literally stares at you all the time. It's almost creepy. Why wouldn't he like you, anyway?"

"I can name a few reasons," I mumble into my hands, cheeks bright red.

Reason number one: I'm not even out of the closet. How can he likes me if he thinks I'm straight? Reason number two: I'm a hermit crab. That explains itself. Reason number three: I look like a hobo in my clothing options. Therefore, nothing here to see! Reason number four: I rarely speak. So he barely knows me. Besides, who likes a mute? Reason number five: I always cover my face with my hands and who really wants to be with somene that shy? Reason number six: I have never, nor will I probably ever, given Shane a reason to be interested in me. I'm just not an interesting person. Reason number seven: He has to know I hate people. It's obvious. Reason number eight: He more than likely sees me as a charity case because I'm so pathetic, so he stares at me to try and figure me out. And reason number nine: I'm ugly.

No one loves an ugly thing.

"Whatever," Madison whispers, and I'm sure she's about to say something else but our teacher yells back at me.

"Mr. White, sit up!"

I comply, looking away from Madison. She doesn't say anything and I'm glad. I don't want her to speak. Not now, not ever. She's not good company for a broken soul like me.

How disappointed Nick would be if he were here for this.
~

I put my headphones in for the rest of the day. I don't want to think, I don't want to learn, and I sure as hell don't want to talk.

How dare she assume I'm gay. I haven't even told a single soul yet and some little girl guesses?!

...I'm pretty sure she's older than me...

Music is my only escape. Music, and my dreams. We've already mentioned how pathetic I am so let's move on from this subject while we can. The tauntings of how I'm pathetic and stereotypical with my escapes can be taken someplace else because they aren't welcomed here and goddamnit, this is one fucking place I have a say in who judges me.

Always the most interesting conversations in your head.

I don't know. I listen to all kinds of music. Music in general is my everything. Whether I am singing or not. Just listening is enough for me. A melody, a gentle harmony, the sweet beat carried by the drums and rhythme of a bass. A voice singing into a mircophone. An opportunity that should have been mine.

"Noah, could I talk to you in my office for a second?"

"Sure Mrs. B. What's up?"

"Nothing. You know the Christmas concert is coming up and I thought of having auditions for the solo in Silent Night. Only I realized why have auditions when we all knew who would win?"

"What are you trying to say?"

"I'm asking you to sing the solo, Noah."

"Seriously?!"

"Of course! You're only the most talented singer I currently have. This is your chance to shine."

Goddamnit. My one chance to shine ruined by doing the right thing. A December night where I was attacked by two familiar boys and their dog, who sunk his teeth into my felsh and proceeded to rip away every means of reasons to live I still had.

A stupid dog took away everything beautiful in my life so that I saw the world for how it truly was. Hideous. Just like me.

I didn't even get to sing in the concert, and maybe that's how all hope was lost. I would never have another chance to shine ever again. It's over. This is my life now. Hiding behind hoodies and earphones, no hope of ever being loved or ever being normal again.

This is me now.

There's this part of me that hates this me. I miss the old Noah. I miss being happy.

"Hey."

If my iPod hadn't been switching songs I probably wouldn't have been able to hear him. As luck would have it, I do, and he's to cute to just ignore.

I slip out an earbud and sit up, one corner of my mouth twitching up into a smile as I stare down at my lap.

Shane's the only one at the table right now. I can only assume Jules and my brother are in line so I'm left alone, momentarily, with the only weakness I have other than my brother's pleas of being me again.

"Hi," I whisper, picking up my iPod and fiddling with it, scrowling through my All Time Low songs to try and feel better. Alex Gaskarth's voice can always put me in a better mood.

"One of those days?" Shane asks with smile on his face, shoveling a fork full of mashed potatoes in his mouth.

I look at him through the corner of my eye and shrug my shoulders. I can see Shane bite his lip as he stares at me, so transfixed in that way of his, and I can't help but blush. I swear he has a staring problem. I'd say it bothers me, but that'd be a lie. Shane's the only attention I don't mind having on me.

"Are you okay, Noah?" He asks softly, reaching out and touching my shoulder gently.

Out of habit, I flinch, and Shane wrenches his hand back with a whispered sorry. I just shake my head and sigh, running a hand down my face where it stops over my mouth as I stare at the lunch table.

"You know you can...talk to me," he says, picking at his food. I look over at him but for once, he's staring down at his plate, cheeks a light pink. "I've been told I'm a good listener. I'm just saying if you want to talk or vent I'm always here."

He's so perfect. This is why my feelings of physical attraction towards him have escalted into something more over the two weeks we've been living in Comfort. Because he's literally perfection. And I'm flaw.

We don't mix.

"You should wear your hair curly more often," I whisper, my eyes flicking to the hair that curls around Shane's ears and at the nap of his neck. He looks at me and my eyes travel up his forehead where his bangs aren't straight either; rather, they're gentle waves and one curls completely upwards. He must not have had time to straighten it, which makes sense, considering I watched him run by my house early this morning, before anyone else had gotten up.

Shane reaches a hand up and runs it through his hair, causing a few pieces to stick up once he's done. A few curl at the ends and a something tugs at my lips, so I turn away in an attempt to hide my smile.

Shane chuckles like he's been caught doing something bad and I watch him from under my fingertips. "Aha, I hate my curly hair. I was running late this morning, litearlly."

"I know," I whisper, clearing my throat. "I saw you run by my house."

"You were up?"

I shrug. "I couldn't sleep." I take a deep breath and gather whatever courage I have buried deep within me. Looking up and straight in Shane's hazel eyes I say softly, "I like your hair curly better. It fits your personality, plus it's just really-really cute."

I look away instantly, squeezing my eyes shut and putting a hand over my forehead. I always manage to embarrass myself, I swear it never fails. But when I look up at Shane, his cheeks are pink again and he's got a little smile on his lips.

"Thanks, Noah," he says, and maybe he would have said more, but Jules and my brother finally showed up and began talking obnoxiously. I mean Jules was, obviously. He always is. I don't really like him that much but at the same time there's just something about him. I can't figure it out.

After a few minutes of listening to Jules scream about running, Shane running with him, and saying a few choice words in his 'native' language, I suddenly get this severe pain in my right side that causes me to lurch to the left, where Shane sits, knock elbows with him, and groan lightly.

"Fuck," I swear, placing a hand on my right side gently as the pain doesn't stop and spreads towards my hips.

"Noah are you okay?" Shane asks gently, just as Jules obnoxiously asks,

"Rainman, what the fuck is wrong?"

Luckily Nick comes to my rescue. He always does. He stands up and comes to my side quickly, taking my elbow and standing me up as the pain subsides some into a dull throb and I feel like I strethed the wrong way.

"Is it a stitch in your side?" Nick asks and I almost fall to my knees, kissing his shoes in praise because he comes up with the best ideas.

"A random one," I nod, rubbing my right side.

Shane looks at me with his brow furrowed. "A stitch in your side?"

"I get those sometimes too!" Jules says, holding a fry up briefly before putting it in his mouth. He says around the mouthful, "But usually I'm running so..."

"I'm fine," I mumble, pushing Nick away who looks skeptical. I shoot him a look, trying to communicate that I'll go to the nurse between periods so no one asks why I'm going for a simple stitch in my side. "Seriously."

Nick instantly says something about Choir, and everyone sort of forgets that I just flipped out because my scars hurt.

I leave lunch a littler early, offering to throw Nick's trash away, and then go the nurse. She gives me a pill of the pain medication my mom brought up after that first time my side was bothering me. She probably told them what it was for, too, and I'm just lucky the teachers don't gossip with the students or pretty soon, everyone would be whispering behind their hands about how I'm the poor kid who got attacked by a dog and is scarred to prove it.

I go to French, where I fill out the worksheet for the day, only half knowing if the answers are right. Sure, Shane's tutoring is helping, but I still get my words mixed up all the time, and barley know what I'm saying. I have to write a sentence on this sheet too so I can't just copy down a single word in a blank. The sentence has four words in it, but I wouldn't be surprised if I screwed it up, damn Dyseidesia.

I put the paper away into my French folder and leave, because we didn't have any free time this period. I'll get it back out when Shane and I meet in the library for our tutoring session and he'll look over it for me before pointing out things I need to fix, or not fix, depending on much of the language the sheet actually uses.

Normally we don't meet on Fridays, but this last Tuesday Shane had to be somewhere so we're making up for lost time today. I'm not complaining. It gives me a chance to speak it him, privately, which has always been easier than when Jules is around or just other people in general. He is so easy to talk to, so friendly, and so cute. I can't seem to control myself, which is unfortunate. I'm probably going to screw it all up any day now.

Madison doesn't talk to me in my last period, U.S. History, which doesn't surprise me. I think she thinks I'm mad at her. I partially am, but at the same time I know I shouldn't be. It's not her fault for saying what she did, she didn't know I'd react like that. Of course it's terrible of her to assume I'm gay, just because I act like a total chick and have hips like a chick doesn't mean squat. There's got to be some girly straight guys out there somewhere.

Though I'm not straight so really, her assumptions are correct.

I should stop thinking about that before it gets to me.

Anyway, I head to the library and I don't even have to see Nick anymore. He knows where I'm going and that Shane will give me a ride home. I think my brother really trusts the guy which surprises me. Sure Nick is great and nice to everyone, but I don't think he'd let just anyone give me a ride home, so I know Shane has to be good.

Which I do know.

Shane smiles at me as I enter the library, showing off his piano teeth and that one dimple. I can't help but smile back shyly but advert my eyes. When I sit down, my hands literally twitch to cover my face, but I've been working on the advice Nick gave me. I have to stop covering my face with my hands, and what better way to start than with one person outside of my family? It's only us anyway so no one else has to see my face. I have to take baby steps on my road to recovery, or whatever the hell it is I'm trying to do here.

God only knows.

"Hey," Shane says, taking his French binder out and flipping to his own finished worksheet. I think he copies Jules when the ginger isn't looking, but I can't be for sure. "You have a better end of the day than you were?"

I frown, but shrug, mumbling, "Not really." I don't know how he knows I had a bad day, but I guess the guy's just good like that.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he says softly, looking at me tenderly and I look away as I pull out my own French folder. "What I said in lunch, Noah, I meant. I'm here if you want to talk, okay?"

"I don't talk much," I joke, looking up briefly to let him know I'm joking. He chuckles and my cheeks heat up, but I smile back timidly, and his returning smile is so large his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"You made a joke, how sweet. I didn't know you were capable," he teases and I blush again, looking away.

A weird, brave part of me makes me say softly, "Screw you," and Shane laughs loudly at that, the librarian looking out of her office and hissing sh loudly.

"She's crazy, I swear," Shane mumbles, rolling his eyes. He shifts closer to me and I can feel the warmth from his arm as it rests directly beside mine, almost touching. I'm about to pass out because he's so close and I can fucking smell him- which, admittedly, is a very lovely smell. Instead, Shane says, "I mean, there's no one else in here. What's going to happen, we bother the computers?"

I giggle quietly and put my hands in my lap. Yeah, I'm starting to laugh a little bit with him. Not around other people, but when it's just us, in our tutoring sessions, or he's giving me a ride home, I laugh. And speak more, obviously. Especially when he lets me pick out the music we listen to. We have a lot of the same taste which surprises me a ton, if I'm being honest here. He doesn't look like the type to like You Me At Six, but he has two whole albums by them!

"Anyway," he sighs dramatically, sitting back in his seat. "Let me see your worksheet from class."

I push it over, picking up one of my pens and nervously twirling it as he reads it over. When he flips to the back to read the four-word sentence I wrote, actual nerves pull into my stomach. I really hope I didn't screw it up so bad that he asks me what could possibly be wrong with me.

Just my luck.

"Noah," Shane says softly, looking at the paper. I hum, lifting one hand up to my face and thinking screw it. Since he's about to ask what I know he's about to ask, I can hide just this once. He clears his throat and looks at me, a little uncomfortable. "Uh, it's just... This word is spelled completely backwards and these two were switched."

Goddamnit, I'm such a failure.

I blush and duck my head down, hiding behind my hands. I shake my head and whine lightly, hoping he gets my point, but when he says nothing I realize I'm probably going to have to explain. He already has an idea, I guarantee it, anyway.

"If I tell you," I whisper, peaking over the tips of my fingers at Shane, "will you promise not to tell anyone?"

Shane furrows his brow, stairing straight into my eyes and I'm captivated like I always am. "Of course, you can tell me anything." Why does he say stuff like that when he barely knows me? I don't even know if I can trust him, why would I tell him anything?

He must just trust way to easily.

"I have Dyseidesia, the visual form of Dyslexia." Shane's eyes widden as a look of recognition crosses his features. Before he has a chance to speak, I explain, because I'm embarrassed and feel like I have to. "I mean, when I was a freshman my dad took me to these classes and I learned to better control it. I hardly have any problems in English anymore, but this is French, a whole other language, and it's- it's hard."

Shane nods, a gentle smile working its way onto his face as he sets a hand on my bicep. I tense up but don't flinch or push him away, and that seems to lift Shane's spirits as he smiles a little wider.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Noah."

"Right," I mutter, rolling my eyes.

Shane squeezes my bicep and moves his hand to the back of my shoulder blade, causing me to tense up even more. My cheeks get impossibly red as I stare at my hands, and Shane says softly, "Really. I'll help you with it, Noah. Before you know it it'll barely be a problem."

I look over at him, through my eyelashes, and wonder if what Madison said could possible be true. But then Shane smiles at me, perfect white teeth, and perfect skin, and cute dimple, and hazel eyes, and adorable curls and a lump forms in my stomach.

He'd never like someone like me.
~

Later that night, around nine, I'm laying on my bed, facing the ceiling. I can't seem to sleep because my thoughts are racing, but not of Shane. Of Madison, and what she said, and how she knew.

I'm wearing only a t-shirt and sweats, one of my hands snuck under the hem of my shirt to trace the outline of my self-inflicted scars. It makes my racing thoughts easier to understand.

If Madison, a girl I've barely known for two weeks, knew I was gay, then what if other people know too? What if random underclassmen whom I have never spoke too know I'm gay? Or upperclassmen assume I am? What if everyone knows and I'm stuck in the deluded fantasy that it's the only secret I've got left?

Well, from the world, it's one of many. But from Nick, it's the only one. For some reason, that makes me feel guilty.

Madison knows now. I mean, I never really denied her and I'm sure my embarrassment was all the answer she needed. She knows, and I barely know her and don't really trust her, but my brother who I trust with my life doesn't know. At least, I've never told, so as far as he knows, I'm completely straight. Or asexual, it wouldn't surpise me if he thought that.

I have to tell him. Only Nick, though. I'm not ready to come out to anyone else. Only my big brother, who's been there through everything, and cried when he saw me cutting. Only Nick because he deserves the truth.

With a sigh I stand up and silently make my way to his room. I don't even bother knocking, I just open the door.

He lays on his bed, the tv on. He's wearing a wife-beater and a pair of basketball shorts, hair a complete mess as he watches some movie. He has two lamps on, one on his bedside table and the other on his small study desk, but it's enough to pretty much light up the whole room.

He looks over at me slowly, surprised, but smiles nonetheless as I shut the door and shuffle towards his bed.

"Hey," he says once I climb over him and to the opposite side, by the wall. He doesn't spare me a second glance as he goes back to watching the movie, one arm under his head and the other on his stomach.

"Nick," I whisper, and he looks at me briefly before looking away again. He's just letting me know he's listening.

Suddenly, I'm nervous, butterflies filling my stomach and my heart beating rapidly. I don't know if it's a good idea. We never talked about gay people, but when we lived in the city they were all around, so I knew he wasn't exactly uncomfortable with the idea, hopefully. I could only hope he wouldn't hate me after this.

Ah, fuck. I'm too nervous.

"Cuddle me," I say quickly, scooting closer to him. Nick looks down at me as I rest my head on his shoulder and cuddle into his side, one of my arms thrown across his belly. Only my big brother wouldn't freak out that I'm trying to snuggle with him. It's not really normal for most brothers, is it?

"You're weird," he says, but moves the hand under his head over my shoulder anyway, so my neck and the back of my head are trapped under his heavy arm. He continues watching tv. "I'm pretty sure it's unaccpetable for us to be snuggling."

"Who gives a fuck," I mumble, comforted. This is my Comfort, Maine. Nick, with his arm around my shoulder, his body heat sweltering even now, his chest rising and falling in my line of vision and nothing but the knowledge that my big brother is my hero and protector, no matter what. That's what gives me the courage.

"I need to tell you something important," I whisper, clinging to his wife-beater as he shifts some and looks down at me. I'm sure all he can see is my forehead.

"Sure, okay. I'm listening," he says, bending his elbow behind my neck so his arm squeezes me in reassurance.

I take a deep, unsteady breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I cling to his chest. "I," I hestiate, tryin to fight past the huge lump in my throat. "I'm, uh. Nick, I'm gay."

He doesn't say anything for a few minutes, but he doesn't push me away, which is how I know he isn't disgusted by me at least. We lay in silence, and I'm almost having a panic attack by the time he finally decides to speak.

"You think you're gay, or you're sure you're gay?" He asks lowly.

"I know I'm gay," I say quickly, opening my eyes and staring at his chest. "I made out with a girl when I was a freshman and it did nothing for me, which is when I started thinking about guys. I was a sophomore when I finally accepted that I was gay."

"Woah," Nick says, shuffling some and cranning his neck so he's looking into my eyes. His own amber eyes are wide as he blinks slowly. "You've been thinking about this for a while then."

"Yeah," I bite my lip, closing my eyes.

"No one else knows?"

"No. But today Madison mentioned Shane and then said she thought I was."

"Shit." Nick says, staring at me for a few more minutes before settling back down, his arm still over my shoulder. "I guess it makes sense."

"Excuse me?"

"It makes sense, Noah. I mean, it makes perfect sense actually," he chuckles, chest vibrating against my nose. "I don't see why I didn't figure it out earlier."

"Whatever," I mumble, lighting shove at his stomach and he laughs again.

Suddenly, he gasps, and says, "You like Shane, don't you?!?"

"What?" I nearly yell, sitting up and staring down at his wide smirk. "No!" I say instantly but Nick's already sitting up too, grinning cheekily at me. "I don't!" I insisit.

"Oh you so do," he teases, pinching my cheek and I slap his hand away, glaring. He just laughs at me. "That's adorable! You should tell him!"

"No!" I hiss.

"So you do like him," he smirks and I don't even bother fighting him on this. We both know he'll win in the end. Suddenly, he frowns, deeply. "I don't know if I like the idea of you two together."

"I thought you liked him? And besides, we'll never be together. He doesn't like me."

"I do like him," he says, ignoring my last comment. "It's just that I don't like the idea of anyone being with my brother... No one's worthy."

Correction. I'm not worthy. I say, "Playing up the big brother act?" When Nick just grins wolfishly, I roll my eyes and shove at his chest so he falls back on the bed, wrapping both of his arms behind his neck. "Don't be stupid, Nick. I always get flustard around him. It'll never happen."

"Good," he says seriously. "Because he's staying the night tomorrow."

My eyes widden almost comically and Nick looks at me innocently as I hit his chest. "What?!"

"I stayed at his last time so I offered for him to stay here. Jules is working or something. He's staying tomorrow night. Don't make a big deal out of it or he'll figure out you like him."

"I don't like him," I protest quietly, realizing my life is going to end tomorrow. This is torture. "Aren't you, Mom, and Dad going to church Sunday morning?" I tilt my head to the side curiously.

Nick nods. "Yeah, I don't know if Shane will go. He might," he shrugs. I nod back. He probably will, I mean, who stays home alone at their friend's house? Talk about awkward. Although he wouldn't really be alone. I don't go to church with them. Not because I don't believe in God or anything, just because I don't want to. Incase you haven't noticed, I don't leave the house for much these days.

"I hate you," I whisper, and Nick just smirks before turning back to his movie, as if our conversation never even happened. At least I know he accepts me. Apparently it's obvious!

That really sucks.

I bite my lip as I think for a few seconds before looking back down at Nick, nibbling on the inside of my cheek. He doesn't look at me as I claim, "I still want to cuddle," and then curl up in his side, my head on his shoulder again as I face the tv to see he's watching The Hangover.

"Whatever," he mumbles, putting his arm once more over my shoulder.