"This still doesn't seem real," Claire said suddenly as she finished zipping up her suitcase. "It still feels like I'm dreaming. Although admittedly that might be because I got so fucking baked last night. You guys are going to turn me into a fucking pothead."

"There are worse things to be," Bea replied.

"Oh yeah, far worse," Mae agreed merrily. She had awoken in a tremendously good mood and it hadn't left her.

They'd smoked with her parents for about another hour, talking about this and that. Trent had indeed had to haul Mae home, though not before he'd had to help Candy get Stan upstairs, as he'd gotten so sleepy and stoned he could hardly keep his eyes open. They would have just got him set up on the couch, but Lucy had all at once realized she was too tired to wait long enough to sober up to drive home safely, and ended up crashing on their couch. After Claire had finished cleaning up they'd gone back to his place and he'd ended up sleeping with her on the foldout.

The next morning everyone but Ann, who had a deadline to work under, had agreed to help Claire go to her apartment and pack and clean.

"I guess so," Claire replied. She paused a moment and looked around. They were all in her bedroom. Trent and Mae were pulling everything from her closet and tossing it on the floor, as instructed by Claire herself, so that she could organize it, and Bea was cleaning her window and spot-cleaning anything she saw on the walls.

"Is it helping your depression?" Mae asked as she pulled a box out of the bottom of the closet and shoved it aside. It was full of books.

"I really can't tell, everything is basically in the air right now, falling, and I can't tell what's what," Claire replied. "I mean, I feel better, yeah, but is that the weed? The sex? You guys? Me being able to quit my jobs? I don't know, but I feel all...fluffy. And it's nice."

"It is," Bea murmured. She finished cleaning the glass and then leaned against the wall beside the window, smiling. "I had that same feeling once I could finally fucking walk from the Pickaxe. Although shit, it must be even more powerful because of not just the two awful jobs, but you've been at it for literally a decade more than I have."

"Yeah…" Claire began to lose her smile, but then abruptly regained it. "You know, I worried that I wouldn't even remember how to be happy after being miserable for so long? But I feel happy. It's so good." She stood up suddenly and hugged Trent from behind. He almost fell backwards into her, as he'd been standing on his tiptoes trying to see if there was anything in the high shelf.

"Whoa! Hi," he said.

"Hi," she murmured. "I like you."

"I like you too," he replied.

"If you hadn't told me that stuff about being aromantic I'd think that I was beginning to fall for you, and then I'd freak out because I'm not really, I just really like you and also we have great sex. And just-there's so much going on in my head right now. And it's pretty much all good. And all of you are a direct result of that. So thank you. So much. You're changing my life really more than it's ever been changed before. Everything before this has been so gradual and boring. I now fully understand why you are dating three women and they're so happy about it."

Bea laughed. "To be fair, this doesn't work out very often. Who he is played a certain role in getting him to the relationships, to be clear, but mostly that was luck. Now, who he is played a significant role in keeping those relationships, so you are right in that regard."

"She's right," Trent said.

"Sometimes I wonder," Mae muttered.

"About what?" Claire asked.

She opened her mouth, then hesitated and closed it, then shrugged finally. "I guess, just, is fate a thing? I don't really believe in fate or religion or destiny, but I guess I wonder if there are simply forces at work here that we can't detect or really understand."

"That is possible," Claire replied after a moment of thought. "I mean, gravity used to seem like magic. Or lightning? The stars? There's things we know now as objectively provable scientific fact but would have been straight up invisible magic for ninety nine percent of all our history. That would be very strange, though. A force in the universe that helps guide people to relationships? It seems really unlikely."

"That it does. Personally, I prefer 'we just got lucky'. But I also feel in my soul that we fucking earned this shit for enduring all the absolute bullshit we did," Bea replied.

"Yep," Mae said. "That's everything in the closet. I think. I can't see up on that top shelf."

"Yeah, it's clear," Trent replied.

"Okay, now-" There came a knock at the front door and Trent was momentarily thrown back into that fearful memory of the first night he'd had sex with Claire here and her brother had come knocking.

"Oh, I bet that's Jacob and Germ!" Mae said, leaping to her feet and scurrying off.

"Probably," Claire said, releasing Trent and following after her.

"You all right?" Bea asked when they were alone in the room.

"Yeah...why?" he replied.

"You look really freaked there for a second," she murmured, frowning as she studied him. "You're worrying me lately."

"I am?" He faced her fully.

"Yeah...I'm not sure why, though. I guess there's this...tension? To you. It's subtle, and I wouldn't have noticed it probably even a month ago, but I've gotten so good at reading you. Is anything wrong? Like, in general?"

He considered it. "I...don't know. I can't think of anything."

"Huh." Bea put her hands on her hips, studying him closely. "I don't know, maybe I'm imagining it, but I don't think so. You'd tell me, right? If something was, like, wrong. Like in general?"

"Yeah," he replied. "The only thing I can think of right now is that I was suddenly reminded of my confrontation with Chris here."

"Oh...yeah." She looked around. "That happened here." Bea came over to him suddenly and took his hands. "You handled that really well, but it's completely reasonable that it freaked you out."

"Yeah, I just hope it's over." They looked to the door as voices grew louder. He had indeed heard Germ and Jacob speaking out there and now they appeared in the doorway, led by Claire.

"Oh hey...everything okay?" Claire asked.

"Fine," Trent replied, letting go of Bea's hands. "Just talking about stuff. Hey Jacob, Germ."

"Trent," they both replied with a nod. Jacob stepped forward and offered his hand. Trent took it and was surprised when the man pulled him into a half-hug and patted him on the back. "It's good to see you."

"You too," he replied, responding in kind. "How's the family?"

"Belligerent," Jacob said, sighing. "Lemme tell you, four sisters argue more than the fucking United Nations sometimes. Jesus." He laughed suddenly, a tired sound. "It's been a long day already and it's barely past noon."

"Oh, sorry if this was a bad time for this," Claire said.

"No, not at all! Honestly, I needed the excuse to get away. I'm rarin' to go for some physical labor but I am tapped the hell out for emotional labor, this will really take my mind off things." He looked at the bed. "So, this is it. This and the dresser?"

"Yep," Claire replied.

"What about that couch or coffee table out there?" he asked.

"I'm selling them off and Bea already found buyers for them and they're coming here to take them away."

"Well, all right then. So we just load this up, haul it to Mae's, and then we can haul away that futon."

"You really want it?" Mae asked.

"Yeah. Either it's broke and we can go drop it off at the dump for you, or it can be salvaged, and I've been meaning to put another comfortable thing to sit in on my back deck for awhile now," Jacob replied.

"Well cool then," Mae said with a shrug.

"Are you sure you don't want anything for this? It feels a little weird, not paying you…" Claire said.

"This is a favor to Trent and Mae, and also a good deed, and potentially a free futon. But the favor to Trent and Mae, and all their people, is enough."

"...man, I'm so curious about what the hell happened between you all, but Trent and Mae have let me know just to not ask."

Jacob laughed a little awkwardly. "Uh, yeah, this definitely falls under the 'you will absolutely be happier not knowing' category."

"Yep," Germ said immediately.

"Uh-huh," Bea muttered.

"Yeah that's what I keep hearing, but luckily for me, I'm not one of those people who has to know. So I will accept that answer and thank you for your help."

"Good! Now let's finagle this thing downstairs to my truck," Jacob said, heading over to the bed. "Between Germ and Trent, I think we can pretty safely get this down the stairs."

"Mae and I will grab the dresser and follow at a safe distance," Bea said.

"No disrespect meant but are you sure you can handle it?" Jacob asked.

"Mae's weirdly strong for her size and I got ripped working at the Pickaxe," Bea replied.

"She's right on both accounts," Germ said.

"Well okay then, more power to you. Let's get this show on the road."

It wasn't as hard or take as long as Trent thought it might.

They managed to get the bed and the dresser downstairs and secured in the bed of Jacob's big truck in about fifteen minutes, even managing to keep the drawers in the dresser. Once that was taken care of, they ultimately decided everyone but Trent and Claire would go over to Mae's place and get things taken care of, while the two of them would stay behind and wrap up with the affairs with the apartment.

They spent another two hours after that going through everything at a somewhat leisurely pace, mostly waiting for the people who were coming for the furniture she no longer wanted to show up and take it away. Some stuff they threw away, some they packed into some boxes and suitcases that either she had or Candy and Stan had let her borrow, and brought down to either his Jeep or her car. The rest they threw away.

They cleaned as much as they could, and when they were done and the apartment was empty, all that was left a pair of boxes set on the living room floor while they did one more once-over, Trent though they'd done a really good job.

As they were finishing up in the apartment, Claire's phone buzzed. She pulled it out, checked it, then sighed and rolled her eyes.

"What?" Trent asked.

"Just my landlord. Technically my lease is up at the end of May, I've been trying to negotiate with him to let me out of it early. I've been living here for like five years. He said he'd let me off the hook for next month's rent so long as I pay this month's rent, and pay for a carpet cleaning company to come through and do the carpets, and forgo two-thirds of my security deposit return."

"I guess we should figure out if it would just cost more to do it this way or to simply pay next month's rent too," he replied.

She shook her head, already texting. "Already have, actually. This whole carpet cleaning thing is a newer policy they started this most recent lease. If I say fuck it, I forfeit my security deposit. However, even if I do it, I know how it works. Like, no one gets their security deposit back. Even if we clean the shit out of the place, the landlord will come through and do a 'visual inspection' and then find enough problems to say 'sorry, you don't get it back'. So this is just barely the better deal. A third of my security deposit will just about cover the cost of the carpet cleaning. I'm agreeing to it, because I want to be fucking done with this. Once I do the carpet cleaning, then I can get the deposit, but that'll be later. Right now we should totally head over to Ham Panther and quit."

"You want me there?" he asked.

"I really would like you there, but you don't have to be," she replied.

"I don't have a problem going," he said, picking up one of the last two boxes.

"Thank you." They finished their own walk through the apartment, confirming they hadn't missed anything, and she grabbed the last box. They stepped out, locked the door, and headed downstairs. He had to admit, he was curious to see what it'd be like, and it felt good, going around with her, helping her like this.

They walked to Claire's car and she popped the trunk. They put the boxes in it, or tried to. There was already a lot of stuff in it. She sighed and began rearranging it.

"We could put it in the back," he suggested.

"If we have to, but I think I can rearrange this," she replied.

"All right. What after Ham Panther?" he asked.

"I'd say Telezoft but I don't even want to walk back into that place. I'll just call and they won't believe me but they can fuck off because I don't care. So, after that, we go back and I start getting my room set up. I guess I need to zero out my accounts and get them shut off. Electrical, water, internet. I think that's everything-"

"Claire? What's going on?"

They had just finished getting everything squared away in the trunk. Trent felt his heart seize up and his gut drop as they both turned around.

Chris stood about a dozen feet away, half across the parking lot, hands in his leather jacket pockets. Trent made himself relax. He slammed the trunk closed and then leaned against it, crossing his arms reflexively.

He looked different, though in what way Trent couldn't really tell. He still dressed the same, still wore his hair the same, and the expression he wore, though mostly neutral, wasn't an unfamiliar one.

"I'm moving," Claire replied.

Chris stared at her for a moment, apparently at a loss for words. His eyes cut briefly to Trent, and he saw a flash of intense emotions, negative but nebulous, shift just beneath the surface, then he looked back to her.

"Where?" he asked finally. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I was going to call you tonight. Why are you here?" Claire replied. She wasn't quite mad, but Trent could hear the bad emotions creeping into her tone, building.

It was probably automatic at this point. So many interactions with her brother had gone bad that now her body associated the two things: his arrival heralded something bad in her mind, even if she wasn't completely aware of it.

"I'm, uh, on break, and they asked me to walk to your apartment, get you to come in," he replied. "No one can get hold of you."

"I'm not answering my phone," Claire replied. "And you can tell them I'm not coming back."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked suddenly after a long, uncomfortable pause.

Claire tensed, glancing briefly at Trent, and then suddenly seemed to deflate. She seemed very abruptly tired. "Chris...I don't know if I can explain it to you," she said.

"Can you try?" he asked.

Trent all at once realized why he looked different. It was the way he was standing. Before, every time they'd run into each other, he seemed to have an arrogant strut. Now he seemed...a little defeated. Or maybe not even defeated, maybe just calmer.

Although to him that probably felt like defeat right now.

"Fine," she said. "I'm tired, Chris. I'm tired in my soul. Okay? I've been doing this shit for a decade, longer than that, and where did it get me? Single in a shit apartment with no real friends, cheated on, struggling to keep my head above water, never fucking getting ahead on my bills or saving, with a shitty car. Where is that? How is that worth a decade of working my ass off, Chris?"

"I thought you two were dating," he said, sneering just a little.

Claire sighed heavily. "Here's the thing I'm going to have a hard time explaining to you, because I'm just now figuring it out myself, but I'm aromantic."

"What? What does that even mean?"

"It means...God, how do I put it? I don't...feel romance, like most other people do. It's why none of my relationships worked out. I like having friends, but I don't want a boyfriend or a girlfriend or anything. I don't want to date anyone. And it isn't a choice I'm making, it's just the way I am. So no, Trent and I aren't dating. We're friends. He and Mae and Bea and Ann and Mae's parents, they're all helping me. I'm moving into Mae's parent's place. They're letting me stay there while I figure my life out."

"What...what are you going to do?" he asked. Clearly he was grappling, unsuccessfully, with what she was telling him.

Another heavy sigh. "First, I'm going to just...chill. Just relax and let my brain heal, because, man, you just don't get it. The depression. I'm not just sad, Chris, I'm fucking miserable. All the fucking time. I'm too sad to cry. Actually think about that, let that sink in. I'm too sad to cry. Do you even understand how sad that is?"

He shifted uncomfortably, chewing over that for a moment. Finally, he slowly shook his head. "No, I can't say that I do know what that is. I don't really get you, Claire. You've always been sad. For as long as I can remember."

"Because I have depression, Chris! If my leg was broken for as long as you could remember, and it never healed, then would you be saying 'I don't understand why you don't walk normal, Claire'?"

"No, but wouldn't it heal eventually?"

"Maybe, but not always. But brains don't really work like that. It's all chemicals, interacting with each other. Sometimes it corrects itself, but sometimes it doesn't. I'm sure that I'm supposed to be on antidepressants."

He sighed in a somewhat disgusted and automatic way that made Trent dislike him just a bit more. "You wanna be on pills, Claire? Those things'll fuck you up and-"

"Chris, I know how you feel about psych meds, we've been over this. You only think people don't need them and just need to 'toughen up' because you live in fucking Possum Springs and you were raised by our parents. If I really did break my leg would you tell me to just fucking walk it off?"

"Well no, but we've got real medicine for that-"

"Antidepressants are real medicine, Chris! I'm not arguing this with you. I'm not arguing anymore. I don't care. I'm done. If I can help it, I never want to rely on you or mom or dad ever again for anything."

"Does that mean I won't see you anymore?"

"Do you even want to?"

"Well...I mean yeah. We had that whole-" He glanced uncomfortably at Trent, shifted again. "I thought we were...you know, getting back on track."

Claire's expression softened, slightly. She thought about it. "...I don't know, Chris. I need some time. I just need some time and space. I need to decompress or I'm going to explode."

"I can understand that at least," he muttered. He shook his head. "So, I mean, you're really gonna move in with strangers and quit both your jobs?"

"They aren't strangers, Chris. Just because you don't know them. I mean it's been awhile but I know Mister and Missus Borowski...Stan and Candy now. And yes, I'm really doing this. I'm really leaving my jobs and my apartment and moving into Mae's old room."

"What are you gonna do for money? They don't want rent?"

"They're willing to let me stay there a bit while I figure things out. As for money, I'm gonna try doing jobs on the internet."

"What jobs?"

"Like editing books and papers, and whatever else I can find." He looked at her dubiously. She sighed. "Look, Chris, if worse comes to worse I know Telezoft will give me my job back because I've quit before and they're always hiring. Don't worry about me."

He still seemed dubious, but finally nodded. "I...okay. Fine. But, you will call me, at some point? I don't want you just...gone, out of my life."

"I'll at least call you at some point, Chris, yes. But let me call you, okay? I don't know how long it'll take."

"Fine."

"You should probably get back."

"Yeah."

Trent and Claire each began heading for their respective vehicles, but Chris said: "Wait."

"What?" Claire asked.

He looked at Trent. "Will you come talk with me? Alone?"

Claire looked uncertainly at Trent. "Yeah, fine," he replied.

"What are you gonna talk about?" Claire asked.

"It's a private conversation," Chris replied.

Claire sighed explosively. "God, you're so fucking annoying sometimes. Don't do anything stupid." She got into her car and closed the door.

Trent came to stand arm's length from Chris, his hands in his hoodie pockets. He still had his knife on him, not that he particularly wanted to use it.

"What is it?" Trent asked when Chris didn't say anything.

He sighed softly. "I don't understand any of this and I don't like you, but...I can tell you give a shit about Claire. We've never really got along, but I don't want anything bad to happen to her. It's obvious she doesn't want to see me, and I don't really buy it that you two aren't together, so will you just...watch out for her?"

"Yes," Trent replied, "I can at least say that. I'll do whatever I can to keep her safe and happy."

A number of emotions played across Chris's face, none of them particularly pleasant. He looked like he wanted to say more, but finally he just muttered, "I have to get back to work." And then walked off without another word.

Trent looked at his retreating back for a moment. Out of all the relationships he'd formed since coming to Possum Springs, he thought that the one he had with Chris was by far the most bizarre. And that was saying something. Although relationship didn't seem like the right word to describe it. Acquaintanceship? Was that even a word? Rivalry?

Whatever. They had stuff to do. He walked over to his Jeep, pausing to give Claire a thumb's up to let her know everything was good, and then got in.

They began heading for the Ham Panther.

"Oh, perfect, there's my boss," Claire muttered as they walked inside the store and looked around. It looked not particularly busy, two of the aisles staffed by bored-looking teenagers. A rat in a pressed button-down and slacks with a smile that held barely-contained cruelty and superiority stood behind the counter of the customer service area.

"He doesn't look very nice," Trent muttered.

"He isn't. The guy before wasn't, like, too bad, or, well I guess he was because he was a member of that cult and got arrested? But I mean in the day-to-day stuff he was, well, not terrible. But the guy who took over is a dick. He really gets off on power-tripping. I'll be glad to go," Claire replied.

"Claire," the manager said, and the cruelty swimming just below the surface seemed to come a little closer to being revealed when he saw her. The smile he gave her was an ugly one, and Trent immediately imagined that this was the kind of middle-aged dude who'd try to convince his high school aged employees to perform sexual favors for a raise or a promotion.

He gave Trent a nasty look, no doubt immediately pegging him as her boyfriend.

It was interesting how many people codified things like that. If he was with Claire in public, he must be her boyfriend, there was no real alternative in a lot of people's minds. Everyone liked to assume they were so smart, they could read things at a glance, and so a lot of people had a ton of blind spots because of this.

"Mister Milski," she replied, "uh...I've come to tell you I quit."

He lost any semblance of a smile. "You mean you're putting in your two weeks?"

"No. I quit. Effective immediately. As in right now. I don't want this to be difficult," Claire replied with a steel that honestly surprised and impressed him. She might not think it, but Claire was hardcore in the same way Bea was when she had to be.

"Do you have any idea how many people that's going to screw over?" he snapped suddenly, leaning forward, all blustery anger now. "I spent all day putting together that schedule based on the idea that you would do the thing you had agreed to do, Claire. You think you can just walk out?"

"Yes, I do," she replied simply. "And, Milski, you're full of shit. The computer puts together the schedule. And even so, what happened to 'oh I'm so sorry Claire, I can't give you more hours, it's out of my hands?'. What happened to that? You obviously can't be that reliant on me if you can't even afford to give me twenty fucking hours a week, boss. You have too many fucking people working too few hours so that you don't have to pay anyone anything resembling full time or benefits, you cheap fuck."

"Fuck you, you smart-mouthed little bitch," he snapped in a flare of anger.

Okay, wow, this was escalating quickly.

"Mail me my last check and we can call it quits."

"I think I'll keep it," he replied with a slow drawl, his cruel smile returning. "I think you owe me for leaving me, and this store, and your fellow coworkers in the lurch like this."

"That's illegal," Claire replied simply.

"You think I give a shit? You have any idea who I am? Who my father is? My brother works for City Hall and my cousin is on the police force. What the fuck are you gonna do? If I wanted to I could fuck your life up, you little whore-"

"You should definitely stop talking before you lose some teeth," Trent heard himself say as he stepped closer to the counter.

His heart was hammering in his chest and he genuinely couldn't tell if it was from fear or anger.

Milski looked over at him like he'd forgotten he was even there, but the surprise was quickly replaced by that sneer, that mix of anger and disdain and superiority. "I could break you in half, kid," he growled, his voice raising. "You're nothing but a fucking pussy and if you ever talk to me like that again I'll-"

"You'll what, exactly, Abner?" a new voice asked.

The three of them glanced over. Trent had been vaguely aware of someone approaching but he'd been too wholly focus on what was happening in front of him.

He was shocked to see Molly, decked out in full cop regalia, standing beside them.

"M-Molly," Milski managed, his entire demeanor instantly changing.

"I'm quitting my job," Claire said, looking to Molly, "and he's threatening to withhold my final paycheck."

"That's illegal, Abner," Molly said flatly. "And," she glanced up at the security camera perched nearby, "I imagine this entire conversation has been recorded. Unless, of course, that camera isn't working, or turned on. Which would be a problem on its own." Milski stuttered something out, and Trent had to admit it was intensely gratifying to see all of this middle-aged, good old boy's false bravado collapse like origami. "So I suggest you stop giving Miss Whitmore and Mister Sinclair here a hard time, give Miss Whitmore her legally owed paycheck, and accept her resignation."

"Uh, y-yeah, of course Chief Borowski," he managed.

Claire grabbed a pen and a flier from the counter, flipped it over, and wrote something down on the back. "This is my new address," she said, "mail it there. And make sure you don't lose that."

"Yeah," he said, accepting the paper unhappily.

"Is this satisfactory?" Molly asked.

"Yeah, I'm satisfied. I'm ready to go," Claire replied.

"Good. I'll walk you out," Molly said.

Claire looked a little confused by that, but otherwise said nothing.

"Thanks," Trent said.

They headed out of the Ham Panther and came to stand in front of the store.

"You two okay? That was more than a little tense," Molly asked.

"I'm fine...you know, mostly. Um. Thanks, Chief Borowski." She shifted awkwardly. "I don't really know the protocol or whatever, but, um, I'm moving in with your...in-laws?"

"Really? Stan's place?" she asked.

"Yeah. In Mae's old attic room."

"Huh. Interesting. They offered?"

"Yeah. Trent put it together, but Stan and Candy are just...weirdly thrilled about it. I mean, not to sound ungracious, but when I asked they were very happy."

"I see. Well, I hope that works out for you. Trent...how's your leg?"

"Mostly better. Still hurts in the mornings and sometimes when it's going to rain. But I've been to my checkups and the doctors say it's healing about as well as can be expected."

"You got lucky," she muttered, "that was way too close of a call. I wanted to thank-" She paused, glancing at Claire. "Well, you know how I feel."

"I do," he replied tightly.

She nodded. "Well, uh, I should get going. Lots to do. Claire, if you find yourself having trouble of the legal kind, or, I suppose, the illegal kind, call me. Trent has my number."

"Oh...wow, okay, thank you, ma'am."

Molly just nodded and then walked away.

"...what was that about?" Claire asked finally.

"Don't know what you mean," Trent replied, turning and walking towards their vehicles.

"No, dude, she was talking like...the way she worded that, it was like she was there when you were shot. But you were shot out in the woods, right? By a hunter you never even saw?"

"That is correct," Trent replied.

Claire sighed heavily. "I know I've agreed not to ask questions but...man you guys suck at hiding this."

"We're actually quite decent at it," Trent lied. "It's just that you've found yourself in a series of rapid-fire instances of things...slipping. Trust me, you don't-"

"-want to know," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know, I know. Fine...but thanks. For being there. Also, like, wow dude. You keep surprising me."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised after what happened with Chris in my apartment, but you just really don't seem like you have this sort of stuff in you. You fucking threatened him. And it sounded legit, too."

Trent sighed heavily. "Yeah, it's...it surprises me too, and I'm not exactly proud of it. I don't want to turn into an asshole. It's just...I guess a trigger of mine. It sounds so," he laughed suddenly, "how'd you put it? So fucking white knight?"

Claire winced. "Yeah. Uh. But you said you didn't care how it sounded."

"I don't, mostly, but I just really fucking hate it when guys are shitty or threatening towards women. I'm guessing it's a lot more intense if I'm, uh...involved with the woman."

Claire smiled suddenly. "You're protective. Is that such a bad thing?"

"I don't know, a lot of guys are 'protective' and it always seems really unhealthy."

"No, a lot of guys are jealous and controlling, Trent. That isn't the same thing. You didn't just stick up for me because you feel like I'm your property now that you've...done certain things with me. You stuck up for me because we are friends and someone was being mean to me unjustly. It's a good thing. Let it be a good thing."

"I guess so," he replied, not entirely convinced.

"Come on, let's go back to Mae's parent's place and finish getting my new life set up."