Apologies for taking so long with the updates. School got in the way :( ...and more introductions. It's a really short chapter I know I'm sorry :L

Chapter 5: Does she know how to knock?

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I wasn't entirely sure how long I stood there. It could have been hours. No not really. More exaggerations. It must have been less than five minutes at the most, yet it felt close to an eternity. Because you know how long an eternity is you pretentious little shit.

I sighed, feeling my hands tremble at my sides and the phone weigh heavily in the back pocket of my jeans. I kicked my scuffed sneaker against the hardwood floor of my neighbor's porch, continuing to stare at the door. Just staring, carefully eyeing the new paint job Mr. Gray had done on it. Beige color with a dark trim and a gold knocker. It was gaudy. Mr. Gray had an awful habit of trying to show that he lived the extravagant lifestyle. More like ostentatious. And I wonder where Joe picked that up from? But I wasn't here for Mr. Gray or even Joe.

I was here for one person, and coincidentally enough, it was the last person I wanted to see.

Just knock. Come on. Get it over with. You can do this. This is for Demi. When does she ever ask you for anything?

She doesn't because until recently she's never said two words to you.

Before I could continue to argue with myself over how pathetically I was behaving, the front door opened. Mrs. Gray came bustling out, purse over her shoulder and looked up at me in surprise.

"Oh, hi Selena." She greeted. "Joe's not here, so if you want-"

"-Actually…I came to see Nick."

It was as if I came over to tell her I ran over her dog. The way her face just dropped. I was almost expecting her to make some kind of defensive comment, or a cold glare. I mean she must have realized I was the cause of Nick's sudden depressive state. Instead, she merely nodded her head in an almost encouraging manner.

"Oh, okay come in. He's in his room." She said pushing my shoulders towards the door. I wanted to dig my feet into the floor with the way she was leading me to the staircase. And she even had the decency to stand there, watching, making sure I was actually here to see her son. I was almost convinced she was going to hold my hand all the way up the stairs.

My face burned as I looked away from her, and up the staircase, and finally the first door on the left. Nick's room.

"Go on, sweetie. He's in there."

I wanted to protest. Make up some lame excuse. Chicken out from the impending doom that awaited me. I wasn't ready for this. I was in way over my head. Especially with the way Mrs. Gray was just staring at me (she probably would have our future wedding all planned out at this rate, I thought, disgruntled).

Slowly, I climbed the stairs, resisting the urge to roll my eyes at Mrs. Gray's elated expression.

"Don't be shy. I'm off to meet with Barbra" – because apparently I knew who the fuck Barbra was – "Make yourself at home." And with that she shuffled out, the door shutting behind her with a quiet snap.

I swallowed thickly, letting the silence of the near empty house envelope with its sense of familiarity. Of course it would always be familiar to me. I'd spent the majority of my life here. Pictures were still hung upon the walls, matching the heights of the rising steps. Nick. Joe. Their older brother Kevin. Occasionally I would see little glimpses of myself in their candid photos. This seemed to make me feel even worse about my unexpected visit.

I took in a deep breath and made my way to Nick's room.

I felt myself hesitate in front of his door, as I did with the front door. Except this one held a worse kind of relentless dread. One that made my stomach drop and a lump form in my throat. There was just something horribly ominous knowing that only this thin barrier was what physically separated us now. When I spent a month so far away from him.

I cleared my throat, counting down the seconds in my head. I raised my curled fist, ready to knock. One, two, three –

The door opened suddenly, for the second time, revealing the youngest Gray.

My eyes took in his appearance immediately, drinking in the sight of my best friend anxiously. I studied the slightly messy curls that would have normally been gelled, the evidently sleep-worn clothes, and the dark circles beneath his brown eyes. I didn't know what I was looking for to be honest. Signs that he was okay, I told myself, that he wasn't miserable like Joe said. Clearly I was just fooling myself.

Nick stared at me quietly, for a long moment. Blank expression. That was the thing with Nick, I could never really tell what he was thinking most of the time. He had a talent for keeping a remote face. Most people just thought he was serious all of the time. I mean it was true. Taylor would always joke and say he was a 40 year old man trapped in a teenager's body. He was the youngest of our little circle, just a few months younger than me. But he was the one that probably acted older than all of us put together.

Nick was the logical one, rational, always the one coming up with solutions and compromises. He was the one that was consoling Taylor after a bad break up, and offering his sweater when it was too cold outside. He was the one who would patiently listen as I babbled about fictional characters, the one that would do the occasional deflating of Joe's head, the one who usually stopped Joe and I from killing each other.

I knew it was wrong to just blame Taylor and Joe's newfound relationship for our broken friendship. Most of the blame was on my part anyway. If I had just –

"What are you doing here?" He questioned abruptly. He didn't sound accusatory but I could already feel myself begin to clam up. What was I doing here? To get the favor done for Demi.

It took me a second to realize how shitty of a friend I was. It had been a month now. A whole fucking month and within that timeframe I hadn't tried to approach him on my own. No I had to wait until some pretty girl asked me to do it.

My stomach turned, and I began to get the same sick feeling I had in the yogurt shop.

"I wanted to – see you." It wasn't a complete lie. I did want to see him. And despite my aversion to bringing him up in conversations with either Taylor or Joe, I honestly really did miss him. I hadn't realized how much I did until I was standing before him.

I wanted to talk to him about everything and nothing at all. I wouldn't have minded a pointless conversation – anything just to hear the calming timber of his voice. I wanted to stay up all night and watch reruns of Friends together. I wanted to muss up his hair and watch as he pretended to get mad. I wanted to tell him corny jokes just to see him laugh. I wanted to watch him play his instruments in the garage and roll his eyes whenever Joe tried to butt in.

Honestly, I just wanted my friends back.

"You wanted to see me?" Nick's eyebrows pulled together, breaking the blank expression. "Why?"

He leaned against the doorframe. The message was clear: I wasn't allowed in his room. I felt the crappy feeling again at the indirect rejection. Nick's eyes darted away for a few moments, before coming back to rest on my face. I was ready for it – an angry outburst, an insult, some kind of harsh demand to leave. It never came, I should've expected that. Nick was never a spiteful person.

"I…miss you." I muttered quietly. "You're my best friend, Nick." He grimaced.

The lump in my throat made its presence known as I tried to swallow. I felt my own lips tug into a grimace when Nick sighed sadly.

"I know." He mumbled.

We both were silent for a moment, unable to say anything more. It was deafening, that was, until my phone buzzed in my pocket. I reached in and pulled it out without a second thought. Because I knew who it was before I even looked at the screen. Demi.

I felt Nick's eyes on me as I scanned the phone. I knew what was supposed to come next.

"I just um, I wanted to know if," I started, slowly meeting his curious gaze. The dark smudges beneath his eyes seemed as if they lightened. The mop of his curly head didn't look so messy anymore. His eyes were hopeful. I could practically feel it dripping with the prospect of optimism. The type of optimism I knew I would never be able to give. I wondered bitterly if this was how Demi saw me in that yogurt shop. So eager. Clinging to every word that fell from her mouth. I wondered how she felt the moment she revealed her true intentions. If she felt as shitty as I did at this moment – the moment she watched the wishful expectations crumble away.

"I wanted to know if you were busy next week. I- " I hesitated again. It was on the tip of my tongue. There's this thing. A favor. I want – no I need from you. It would mean so much – there's this girl – Demi – I really like her. "I heard about this – this movie in the theaters. It looks good. Maybe we can go see it with Taylor and Joe?" I sighed out dejectedly.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't even look at him anymore, instead choosing to shamefully stare at my shoes.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Selena." Nick's voice pulled me back.

"What? Why not?" I demanded, snapping up to look at him again. He suddenly looked uncomfortable under my gaze. His eyes darted away, as if looking for some kind of place to hide away from my questioning.

"I need…" He paused.

Time? Space? Away from me.

I didn't know what to say or do besides awkwardly stand outside in the hallway while he blocked the door to his room.

"It's not you," he started apprehensively.

"It is me."

He gave me a pleading look, and I instantly felt like shrinking in on myself. Seep into the carpeted floor or the tacky paintjob on the wall. Anything than to be in front of that pleading stare.

"I'm sorry." I said in a low voice, feeling that was what all I could say. Nick bowed his head. I didn't know what to do. I would have rather taken on a hundred crying Taylor's or smiling Demi's instead of watching Nick with that desolate expression.

He opened his mouth, about to speak when the sound of the front door opening and the sounds of giggling filled the empty house. I immediately recognized the laughter as Taylor's. We both froze, staring down at the foot of the stairs.

"Shhh, I think Nick's still here." Joe whispered, despite the fact that I could hear the idiot from upstairs.

"You told me no one was here!" Taylor muttered, appalled. They both reached the steps, and before I could react (or at least hide from plain sight), Taylor spotted us. "Selena?"

Joe's head snapped to meet my horrified expression. His narrow eyes flitted back and forth between Nick and I, stunned apparently. It was a bit ridiculous how quickly and how much I felt the annoyance creep up on me, as I caught the ghost of a smile forming on his lips.

I was at a loss for words. I was petrified. Stunned. Mortified. Caught in the act. Not that this was anything incriminating. But it was an intimate moment I felt intruded upon. A kind of vulnerability I was only willing to share with one person at a time. And I just hated admitting Joe Gray was right.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in. You know, I can't remember the last time I ever saw you in here. It's been – how long has it been Tay?"

"Should I break out the board games?" Taylor questioned brightly.

"Nah, we need a full run down of everything. I think it's only right….after being in the dark for so long."

Hypocrite.

He took the steps two at a time, dragging Taylor behind him, until he was standing before us. "Sooooo are we all happy friends again? Because honestly, all of this silent treatment crap was getting really boring."

I wasn't looking at Nick. But I could feel him stiffen behind me.

"What are you two doing here…alone?" Joe's smirk widened devilishly. That look in his eyes made all of the implications in the world. And as if to further prove said implications he added: "Nothing inappropriate I hope?"

This struck a nerve. And apparently it did with Nick as well, because in the next instant I heard the door slam behind me, as he shut Joe out (and by extension me). The rejection only amplified as I focused in on Joe staring at the door behind me.

He blinked innocently, eyes darting between Taylor and I.

"Did I say something?"

I scoffed, feeling the anger rise faster than the initial annoyance. Sometimes I just really hated this guy.

"Could you refrain from being a dick for once in your life?" I demanded, before stomping (quite loudly) down the stairs.

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A/N: Next chapter will be posted very, very soon. Thanks!