Pressed against the lockers, lips crushed under the other's, battling tongues and heavy moans swallowed up by each other's mouths. Bodies grinding against one another, hands moving down lower and lower. Before one of them grunts and shoves the other away causing Miles to slam into the other set of lockers. Tristan turned away and mumbled "Shit," under his breath as he wiped the saliva away from his mouth. He turned to grab his bag which fell on the floor with his things surrounding him.

Miles watched him, panting, trying to catch his breath. Tristan barely spared him a glance, gathering his things, and wanting to leave as soon as possible. Breathing through his nose, face flushed.

"Hate me, you say? You sure look like it."

Tristan sent him a glare in return. He was in no mood to play games, "Do that again and I'll seriously beat you. Money can't protect you forever," Stupid Hollingsworth, he hissed in his mind. He fixed his bag behind his back, and sped away, Miles was right on his tail.

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" Miles questioned, seemingly unaware of Tristan's hatred at the moment, or rather didn't care, "It's obvious you still like me. Looking at me when you don't think I'm looking..."

"One time we hook eyes and you think I'm looking at you every time? Don't get ahead of yourself."

"It's the truth-"

"You sound pathetic."

"Tristan." Miles growled at him, grabbing him by the forearm and wrenching him aside. Tristan stumbled closer, and seethed, first at his arm, then to his face, "What the hell happened to you? You're not the same boy I liked."

"That's right, I'm not. The Tristan back then would have let you walk all over him. He came back much more stronger now. And please don't say you liked me ever again, we've already established that was a lie."

"It's not."

"Right, because I believe you. Because when I confronted you, you didn't refute. You were silent. And you want to know what silence means?"

"No-"

"Guilt, Miles. You loved her and used me. You all just used me. And you all just think that I'm always going to be here - accepting - on my hands and knees, but I'm not and I won't. Sorry."

Tristan tried to leave, but Miles simply wouldn't let him. He knew this was his only chance to speak one-on-one especially since Tristan was constantly surrounded by those no-brainers from chem class. How did Tristan get involved with those assholes? Miles had not a clue, all he knew was that he did not like it one bit and hoped to change that.

"Tristan, please just talk to me."

"Did Princess Matlin reject you? Is that why you're after me now?" Tristan questioned, averting his eyes. His intention was to hurt Miles. He wanted to make him feel the sadness that he felt, the anguish, the grief, helpless, worthless feeling like absolute garbage, like nothing to no one. He wanted him to feel pain.

"It was a difficult time for me, okay? I had problems with my family, with drugs, with school. I thought I didn't deserve you. I wanted to protect you. So when I saw an out, I took it. "

"So what changed?"

There was a pause as Miles tried to recollect his thoughts, "I think you still deserve better, but no matter what I can't forget you. And I can't stand seeing you with him." The man who was constantly at Tristan's side, who recommended dying his hair (a lush brown that caught a few eyes), changing his attire (more his and his buddies punk rock style) and perhaps it would have been okay if it didn't change his personality too. Arriving late to his class, sometimes not even arriving at all, loitering around parks in the middle of the night, talking back to the teachers - one more strike and he'd be forced into the rubber room (and thankfully the threat did quiet him down a little).

"That's too bad because Patrick and his friends are pretty good to me. And they don't make me feel the way I felt with you... like I wasn't even there sometimes."

"That's not fair."

"When was it ever fair for me, Miles? What about me?"

Miles opened his mouth, but nothing came out because he couldn't disagree. He was the worst boyfriend to Tristan. He ignored him, and favored kissing more than just talking to him. At a crucial time in their relationship he ran back to Maya. Not intentionally, but it happened. Tristan had every right to do this to him, but it didn't mean he would go down without a fight or ten.

"You're right. It's totally unfair, even now, for me to even come to you and beg for your forgiveness."

"Stupid." Tristan agreed before his expression fell further, "I can't take it anymore. Don't you get it? I'm trying to forget about you, but you're not helping me. Do you know how hard it is seeing your face every day?"

"I know."

"Especially when you look at me, and then you turn back to her. Your ex. The one I was always afraid of because I always knew there was a risk that I would lose you to her one day and I did. I always do."

Miles shook his head, "You didn't."

"See, you're doing it now, you're disagreeing with me, but where was that then? When I needed it the most?"

"I'm sorry, Tris."

"I don't want to feel that way anymore. I'm tired of feeling. I just want you to get the hell away from me."

It was all his fault. He thought he was doing a good thing, but it completely backfired on him. He knew that it was in his best interest to give up, but he also knew that if he left now, he ran the risk of losing the little hold he still had on Tristan. The little hold that agreed to meet the person in the letter at a given time and a given place. The little hold that made him stand there for an extra five minutes and stare silently as Miles revealed himself, lips twitching as if he was going to cry but he didn't and grumbled, "What do you want? I'm meeting my friend's in the hour." And finally, the little hold that yelped as he was suddenly slammed into the lockers and kissed roughly on the mouth, hands up in the air before he started to respond just as hot and heavy.

Miles was honestly done running away, he wanted to make things right, he wanted Tristan.

"I can't. I just can't. I'm a coward and a stupidly selfish, egotistical bastard-" Tristan would not refute those claims, he didn't have too, "I admit I'm the one who's doing most of the staring. I just can't keep my eyes off you, thinking about you every day, every night. It was never about her. She's honestly just a friend who was there for me at a troubled time, but we're never getting back together. And if you need me to dump her on the streets or hit her with my car again I'll do it -"

"What?"

"Nothing. Please Tristan..."

Tristan scoffed, huffed, and downcasted his eyes, "… I told you I'm done."

"He can't give you what I can. He won't. He's a delinquent, they all are, and the only reason I will ever bow down on the ground to them is because they were there for you when your dopey boyfriend couldn't be. But now I can. Be my friend again and hopefully something more when you're ready for it." Miles placed his hands over his shoulders which made Tristan pause, shake to his core but there was no escape. Why did he even come here in the first place? "Please, I'm begging you."

Tristan was hesitant to respond. This was really all he ever wanted. But things were different now. "And I'll give it to you, however long it takes. I'll wait for you to come back to me. And I'll try my hardest this time to become a suitable partner for you, Tris."

Tristan told himself he would become a new person, a better person, that he would allow no one else to walk over him and if he agreed so easily, wouldn't that have defeated the purpose? He swallowed... and slowly nodded his head. The relieved expression on Miles' face made him want to break down and cry, lash out, hit something, hit himself, run to an isolated place and scream till his lungs became inflamed. It wasn't supposed to be like this, he wanted Miles to feel the same way that he did, so why couldn't he just..?! Turning away from him, Tristan walked shakily towards the front door of the school, intent on meeting his friends tonight to get his mind of it, and at least indulge himself for one more night of fun and idiocracy. Miles was right after all, they were all delinquents and he didn't belong with them.

"Oh and one more thing Tristan." Tristan stopped at the door and turned to him, exhausted. Miles was smiling sadly, knowing full well where he was going, but also knowing he had no right to stop him, "I will agree, my silence was guilt, but not because of Maya. I was guilty for loving you too much."