A/N: I didn't make you guys wait so long this time. Good for me! Lol. Last time, only two people bothered to review. I guess the longer you make people wait, the less they review. Which sucks.

"Tyson Granger!" exclaimed Hilary, stomping into the room, hands balled into fists. The only people in the room apart from Tyson were Ray and Max, and, seeing that an argument was brewing up, they hurriedly got up and left the room. Tyson watched them leave and then, muttering something about traitors, faced Hilary, still sitting down.

"You're in my way," he said. She looked confused for a moment, but then realized that he was talking about the TV. She huffed angrily and switched the TV off from where she was standing. "You can't do that!" he exclaimed in outrage, gripping the remote tightly.

"I can and did!" she replied, her face contorted with fury. Suddenly, Tyson's demeanor changed from that of annoyance to resignation. He sank into the sofa and looked at her rather moodily.

"Ok, what'd I do?" he asked with an exaggerated sigh. She looked pretty angry for someone who had had a civilized conversation with him only an hour ago.

"Well, you've been so strange lately!" replied Hilary, looking a bit puzzled. "I mean, it's not one thing in particular, but…" She suddenly crossed the room to where he was sitting and prodded his forehead with her finger. He looked up at her, his expression slightly alarmed, and sank further into the couch. "What is going on in there?"

"I don't think I'm the one who's been acting strange," he replied defensively. She opened her mouth to say something, but he held up a hand to stop her. "Sit down, at least, and discuss this properly… without yelling." She took a seat beside him. She closed her eyes for a moment, as if trying to formulate a 'proper' response. "You were fine an hour ago, what'd I do?"

"That conversation!" she said, her eyes snapping open suddenly. "Yes, that's what made me angry in the first place, you idiot!" Tyson furrowed his brow. From what he could gather, there had been nothing wrong with the conversation. About a week ago, he had decided to be extremely civil to Hilary; that way they wouldn't have as many arguments. Following this pact, he had been extremely polite. She had asked him what he was doing, and he had said nothing, but he might watch some TV later. Then they had remained silent for a few moments, and Hilary had left soon after. No, there had been nothing wrong with the conversation. "Why were you so distant?"

"Distant?" he asked icily. "I believe the term is polite."

Hilary scoffed. "Oh, come on. When were you ever bothered about being polite?"

"See, that just goes to show how little you know about me, despite the fact we've known each other since eighth grade." Tyson looked pretty annoyed. He had been at the receiving end of teasing from most of his friends lately, and the brunette was the centre of that teasing. Yes, he had been a little distant, but who wouldn't be when three or four people's smirks could be felt boring into the back of their head? "Maybe if you opened yourself up to the fact that I might be a little more mature than I was back then, you—"

He stopped because of the look on Hilary's face. She looked surprised, annoyed and hurt. Why did she look hurt? He felt very frustrated. What was with this girl? She had the most violent mood swings imaginable. And why did he care, anyway?

"Because she matters," said a snide little voice in his head. "But you're not willing to admit it, because you're a coward." He shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked at the brunette again. "Hey, can I ask you something?" he asked softly, deciding to prove the voice wrong once and for all. She nodded quietly, still looking confused. "Do people tease you a lot?"

"Well…" she bit her lip, going pink. "Yeah. I don't know what it is. Do I invite teasing? It's as if—"

"What do they tease you about?" asked Tyson, cutting her off.

She let out a rather high pitched laugh. "Well, not that it matters or anything, but they tease me about you an awful lot." She shot a sidelong glance at him. "Not that there's any basis for it," she added hurriedly.

"You know, people tease me about you too," sad Tyson thoughtfully. "What if there is a basis? Or are they all idiots?" Hilary opened her mouth, surely to say that she was more inclined towards the latter, but he quickly added, "Think about it."

She flushed brightly, but didn't say anything. Instead, she thought about it seriously. She did like Tyson, but as more than a friend? One part of her said of course not!... but the other, more prominent part said it was true. She looked over at him. He was leaning back, studying the ceiling.

"Maybe," she conceded in a small, embarrassed voice. He grinned at her suddenly and inched closer.

"Hey, I'm gonna need a much more definite answer than that," he said teasingly. She smiled back at him.

"Sorry," she replied in the same tone. "You're not going to get anything more definite than that." He inched even closer.

"That's what you think…" he said, leaning in towards her. Suddenly, the door burst open and Ray and Max walked in. When they saw Tyson and Hilary sitting only a few inches apart, grinning at each other, they stopped in their tracks.

"Well, will you look at the time?" said Max hastily, checking his watch. "I have to go."

"Yeah, me too," replied Ray with a nervous smile, carefully not looking at Tyson or Hilary, who were watching the two of them with amusement. They both backed out of the room, chattering nonstop. Closing the door behind them, Max shot Ray a look that clearly said, "What the heck?!" and they parted ways.

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"It was embarrassing," said Max, covering his face with his hands.

"Must've been," replied Miriam sympathetically, reaching out and ruffling his hair. He flicked her hand away. "Hey!" she said playfully, trying to do it again. He caught both her hands in his own, removing them from his face in the process. Miriam decided to give up, trying not to think of the fact that Max had nice hands. "What did you say when you entered the room then?"

He grimaced, releasing one hand to rub the back of his head. "Well," he said reluctantly. It couldn't be said that he had handled the situation very well. In fact, it couldn't be said that he had handled it at all. "I said it was late and I had to go… or something to that effect." Miriam's green eyes widened incredulously as she glanced at her watch.

"It was late?" she repeated. "Your definition of late is four o'clock in the afternoon?" Max shrugged sheepishly, unable to find an excuse for his weirdness. "Clever, Max, real clever." She rolled her eyes as he flushed and muttered something. They remained silent for a while.

"Hey, have you ever really felt so afraid to tell someone something that you just…" Max trailed off, searching for words. "Well, that you just don't tell them?" Miriam looked vaguely surprised at the random question. She thought for a moment, neither of them noticing that they were still holding hands.

"What exactly are you referring to?" she asked finally, raising an eyebrow. Max shrugged again, his blue eyes twinkling cheerfully.

"Anything you want," he replied. Mentally, he was cursing himself for asking her the question out of the blue. She might suspect something. But maybe he wanted her to suspect something? Maybe it would make his task so much easier if a suspicion could be created in her mind? "Yep. Anything. Like, take Tyson and Hilary's situation. Both of them were positively terrified of telling each other, but apparently, they finally got the guts…Am I not making sense?" Miriam laughed at this anxious question.

"You're making sense," she replied slowly. "But they eventually told each other anyway, didn't they? I guess you can never keep a thing inside yourself forever." She watched a look of slight alarm spreading over Max's face.

"Then I guess I'd better tell you someth—" he broke off suddenly as Ray entered the room. Ray looked horrified. "Why me?" he muttered, before doing exactly what Max had done only some while before. He looked at his watch and was about to say something when Max stood up, dropping Miriam's hand as if it was scalding him, and said, "What's up, Ray?"

Ray lowered his hand, looking relieved. "Oh, nothing," he replied. "Sorry about that, by the way," he said, looking at Miriam. "I'm a bit paranoid, I guess."

"No problem," she replied, shrugging. "What were you saying, Max?"

"Oh, that," said Max, racking his brain for what to tell her. "Well, I'm going on deck. D'you want to come?"

"Uh, sure," replied Miriam, puzzled. She was sure he had been saying something else, but she decided to let it drop. Max darted out of the door before her and held it open for her. She looked at him in surprise, in response to which he grinned teasingly.

"I have to protect my nose," he explained, dodging her attempted whack on the back of his head.

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"Life is cruel," announced Julia dramatically to what she assumed was an empty room. She had been wandering around aimlessly for quite some time, feeling, for some reason, rather down, and she had walked into the dining room in the end.

"Why is that?" came a voice quite close to her. She jumped, almost falling out of her chair, and turned to face the voice. It was Tala; she had already recognized his voice. She screwed her eyes up tightly.

"This isn't happening," she muttered, a little louder than she had planned.

"It just did," replied Tala. He had been taking water from the corner of the room; therefore she had not seen him. He now sauntered over to her, one hand holding a half-empty glass, and the other thrust into his pocket. He took a seat beside her and looked at her casually.

She opened her eyes and looked at him warily. "I don't know," she said cautiously, in reply to his question. "It just is. Very, very cruel."

He smirked, amused. "Why?" he repeated himself, draining his glass. She thought about it. She had been feeling down in the dumps, yes, but why? That, she didn't know. It was odd, to say the least.

"I was just feeling kind of down," she replied. Then, rather defensively, she added, "I don't normally talk to myself, you know." Tala's smirk widened to a grin. Then, suddenly, his face darkened. Julia studied his face, taken aback by this sudden change in expression.

"Something tells me I'm not the only one who thinks life is cruel," she remarked casually, with a note of triumph in her voice. She'd caught him, and now she'd force him to tell her one of his problems, for once.

"You're not," he replied shortly, looking at her expressionlessly. She looked snubbed, and a wave of remorse swept over him. Was he going soft? He got up abruptly, pushing the chair away from the table. She followed suit, looking puzzled. He hesitated before saying, "Don't be offended." Not giving her any time to react to this unlikely statement, he left the room. He paused at the doorway before doing so, however, and said over his shoulder, "See you around." He left Julia racking her brains as to what he could've thought of that changed his mood so suddenly? And she struck on the right thing: he must have been reminded of the Abbey in some way. Maybe it was something she had said…

She groaned out loud and said to the room that she now knew was empty, "Life is cruel."

A/N: do not question the weirdness... Lol. I rewrote this chapter about 5 times. I think I'm pretty much satisfied with it now. Review...It's not that hard, you know.