"You're acting different,' Hunter cooed. Sebastian stood above him, spotting him as he bench pressed during their gym period. They were cousins, equally affluent— Tierney was Sarah's older sister, and while the two had never been exceptionally close, the families went to nearly every social gathering together, and Sebastian and Hunter were brotherly. Hunter had a younger sister, Abigail, that Sebastian and Savannah had a particular affinity to, oddly, for the same reason: the hope that the last innocent one could still make it far, far from the ruination of their family's grasp. Hunter, however, was long gone— worse than Sebastian by far.

"I've been practicing a lot,' Sebastian responded. Which was true, but in no way what was taking his mind away from the day-to-day activities of high school life.

Hunter let out a large sigh, pulling the bar closer to his chest. "You're lying,' he responded in a melody.

"You've seen me practicing every day."

"Sebastian, just tell me what's going on with you, okay? I know you're not locked down like Fort Knox because you're worried about tennis. Don't bullshit me."

Sebastian took a heavy sigh. He trusted Hunter. He had told Hunter a handful of things that he knew were never supposed to leave the comfort of his own home, even to visit other members of their family. Hunter had confided in him also, even though both knew there would be repercussions if either family knew that the boys spent time spilling family secrets in the weight room. He hadn't talked to anyone about Savannah or Mercedes or the vacillating weight of feeling present sometimes and completely gone others.

"Savannah overdosed last weekend."

Hunter racked the bar, dropping his arms onto his chest, his eyes closed. He thought for a few seconds. "Alcohol?' he asked with an incredulous look on his eyebrows.

"Yeah,' Sebastian responded, dryly.

Hunter thought for a few more seconds before giving an exasperated chuckle. "Yeah.. I wouldn't tell anyone else that."

Hunter offered to switch from bench, but Sebastian shrugged him off out of either disappointment or rage. He recognized it was probably both emotions; he grabbed a cold shower before changing back into his school clothing and grabbing his backpack. He pulled his wet hair back with a hairband and scratched at a few blemishes on his skin before returning to the hallway just as the bell rang to go to the next period. Keeping his distance from as many people as he could, he found himself watching shoulders and heads carefully. He passed by a warm set of brown eyes, not recognizing a familiar smile to go along with them until he had already walked by her. Turning his head quickly, he saw Mercedes continue to walk away, quickly realizing he hadn't actually seen her in over a week. He hadn't seen her smile in longer, and he couldn't believe that that was her reaction. After being completely and entirely blown off and ignored by him following being humiliated through him, she still drew her lips apart to acknowledge him warmly. Sebastian kept walking to class for a few seconds before making a quick turn and following the girl to her locker, drops of water falling to his shoulders and the hallway floor.

"I want to apologize first,' he began quickly, standing beside her locker.

Mercedes peaked around the door of her locker with wide, surprised eyes. She looked around the hallway and past Sebastian's shoulder, nearly in paranoia. Sebastian mistook the fear for intimidation. He took a step away.

"We haven't spoken lately, and I think it's my fault. Honestly. That night was confusing for me, and I'm not used to being caught off guard. I'm going through an interesting time in my life,' he continued vulnerably. He wasn't sure why everything was coming out then, but he felt as though he was punishing himself by being distant from Mercedes— or, more accurately, punishing her for simply being. Sebastian didn't feel like an impulsive person, most of what he did was intended and premeditated, manipulated really, but he didn't know that he wanted to manipulate Mercedes. He was trying to prove something to her, that was true, but, more importantly, he was trying to prove something to himself.

His cheeks were warm.

"You challenge me in a way that's not spiteful or jealous or ill-intended, and I'm just not used to that,' he gave a tired laugh. "I don't know what I'm getting at here. Just don't.. hate me."

"I don't hate you, Sebastian. I just think that you and I are at different places in our lives right now. You've got a lot to deal with and work through, and that's okay. I don't have to hate you just because you're not who you want to be right now."

A beat, a flit of anger and misunderstanding flew across his face before Sebastian sighed.

"You're acting like you didn't tell me the truth. You said that you felt like you were playing a role, like you couldn't decipher between who you were and what you do and how you act. I listen. If you wanted another person to just tell you 'yes' and pretend like everything is walking through strawberry fields, you wouldn't be here right now."

Sebastian looked at Mercedes with furrowed eyebrows. He gripped his books tighter and brought a thumb to his mouth, biting at his cuticle. He looked around to see the hallways beginning to empty as people pushed towards their last class of the day.

"If I wanted to talk to you… would you?"

"Of course,' Mercedes responded, shutting the door to her locker.

"Now?"

Mercedes bit her lower lip and shook her head after a few seconds. "I have class. I can't skip."

Again, Sebastian realized their differences. Giving a small sigh, he cut his eyes away and nodded. "Okay,' he said in indignation. He knew that whenever Mercedes was ready to talk, he would have nothing to say. "Don't worry about it,'' he said, turning around and walking back in the direction he had come.

"Sebastian, wait,' Mercedes said, taking a few steps towards him. He stopped halfway and turned his head sideways to indicate attention, but he made no attempt at eye contact.

"If I call you tonight, will you pick up?"

He thought for a second. Mainly about the implications of having Tierney or Emmett pick up the phone, then about how ashamed he felt about having his emotional turmoil hovering dimly over the day. He looked at the girl. He thought, so momentarily, that she might be his refuge, but people all over were identical. Sebastian looked at Mercedes out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't."