"No," she protested, standing from the bed, a blanket wrapped around her, picking up his clothes and handing them to him.

"He's not coming over for another hour!"

"Tristin, I need you to understand. Please, I can't have him find out."

"Why won't you leave him?"

The question surprised her; she had never thought he would ask such a thing. They had been having their fling behind his back for about a month now, and she thought Tristan was okay with it, for the most part. He never showed any sign of hurt and never talked about her breaking up with Mychal. Though she had thought about it, she wasn't sure Tristan would actually be willing to commit to her.

"I…" she tried to form words.

He quickly got dressed while she stared at the floor with a blank expression on her face. "Don't worry about it," he shook his head. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

With that, he left, leaving her in mental discomfort. She didn't know why she didn't leave Mychal. Sure, he had never treated her badly, never made her want to cheat on him, but he was just so god damn boring. He was the perfect boyfriend, always agreeing to what she had to say, always buying her things, but that just wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to fight, to scream so hard her throat hurt. She wasn't used to this – this ideal relationship. She wanted out for the longest time, but he would never deserve that. Not that he deserves this.

As Rory dressed, she thought deeply. She knew Tristin wasn't being serious; he couldn't be. Why hadn't he told her before, if he had. He couldn't possibly have any feelings for her; she was a nobody at that school and he was on the top of the social ladder. Why did he even go for her in the first place?

When she asked if he could come over the first time, she knew that he was surprised, to say the least. He came and they got pretty intimate. She knew it was wrong – hell, she thought she wouldn't do anything like that her whole life. But it was so tempting: playing with fire. Her mother or father could have come home during, or her boyfriend could have called, but they didn't. That just made her want it more, to live on the edge, to be alert at all time.

It wasn't like Tristin wanted anything serious. He's always wanted her body. And here, after a year of being at Chilton, he had gotten it. Sure, she had always been attracted to him, that's why she didn't call anyone else that day. She didn't want that that kind of relationship she had always seen on the drama shows: the woman having an affair and having to choose between them. She knew she was safe with Tristin, well, at least she thought.

Someone wrapped their arms around her from the back. She turned around, startled. "Oh, hello Mychal, I didn't hear you come in."

He shrugged and kissed her, "I wanted to surprise you."

"It worked."

He chuckled but noticed her facial expression. "Is anything the matter?"

She shook her head, "No, not that I know of."

"You just look like something's wrong." He looked at her with his unoriginal brown eyes and normal brunette hair. His skin was the regular shade of beige that pretty much everyone had. His voice was at the pitch that all his friends had and his smile was like everyone's in the yearbook. His laugh wasn't anything special either. It wasn't like… well, it wasn't like Tristin's, for example. Tristin had depth. Tristin's eyes were deep, they held feeling and emotion. His blonde hair was perfect and his laugh stood out of all of them.

"I assure you that nothing's wrong. Don't worry." She kissed him fast and escaped to put a Hot Pocket in the microwave and retreat to find something on the television.

"So how was school?" she asked him, an hour later, long after they got situated on the couch of her house.

"Same as always, I guess. I can't complain. You?"

"It's Chilton."

He laughed. "Yeah, I figured as much."

"Hey, I still have some homework, if you don't mind leaving?" She knew it was rude, but still she had to ask.

"Uhm…" he looked puzzled, though she had asked him this numerous times before, "sure."

She watched him as he got up awkwardly and kissed her goodnight. She had always gotten him out of the house by eight o'clock, in fear of him wanted to get closer than what she wanted. They have had sex before, but haven't for a while, Rory feeling uneasy about the situation around him. She knew he knew that she didn't want to, but he never asked and she never clarified it.

She grabbed the phone on the way to her bedroom in her fancy house. There were a total of nine bedrooms, some of which she hadn't even been in: what's the use? Her room was her favorite in the entire four thousand square foot house. It was made out of antiques; an old, brass bed frame hugged the wall while expensive, ancient maps hung with clocks saying what time it was there hung above it. She had a huge walk in closet filled with everything her mother shopped for her in it. Rory didn't get why she had all these clothes: all she needed was her uniform. But it was her mother and father's money, so Rory didn't complain.

She sat down on her King sized bed and looked up at the ceiling as she pressed the familiar buttons without looking at the phone. She pressed the speaker phone button and heard the ring tone fill the room. Two rings and he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey," she smiled at his voice.

"Hey." He didn't put any emotion into it.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Maybe."

"Tell me, Tristin."

"No. Look, I have to go." Rory heard a faint voice in the background but she could understand it perfectly. It was a girl and she distinctly said 'Come on, Tristin' in the way a girl would say as to….

He was having sex. With another girl. And though it shouldn't have bothered her, it did. She heard a click and then dialtone.

A/N: Okay, so I'm back with another story. It's kind of like my other one, but different, in the sense that the boyfriend isn't abusive and other minor details. I hope yall like it enough to review.