"I fucked up, Allison," John stated, plopping himself in their usual fifth period hideout on Thursday. "I can't believe I totally fuckin' blew it."

Something was wrong. John used her name instead the pet names but she didn't press it. If he didn't come out with it right off the bat, it meant he could handle it. He took out an old, mangled carton of cigarettes and smoked the remaining three within the hour. She hasn't seen John hadn't smoked in so long.

She didn't see much of him after that. Allison caught his signature red flannel during class changes but that was it. And whenever she gots rare chance, he just... wasn't himself. He was cut off, getting angrier by the day, and avoiding not only her but Andrew too.

She asked Brian about it, thinking he would know something since the two of them were weirdly close. Brian hadn't been able to talk to John either. John hardly showed up to Woodshop anymore—despite that it was the one class John actually liked.

Allison regretted not asking. Maybe she could've done something, anything, to stop whatever was going on. All she could do was hope it wasn't anything at home.

It had been raining almost all day Friday. Most days, she liked the rain, but the rain seemed to reflect her mood. Hiding in the bleachers was out of the question—which meant she wouldn't be able to see him.

Allison managed to slip in the bathroom, hiding in one of the stalls with all her stuff. She passed most of her time drawing and biting her nails. They had gotten too long and were always leaving trails on her arms whenever she scratched.

Despite the rain, it was actually really hot in the bathrooms. Allison wasn't sure how much longer she could take the heat. She was beginning to miss the March cold. Summer sweat sucked.

Allison unlatched the stall at the same time a girl came in from the door leading to the gymnasium. Claire.

Claire joined Allison at the sink, turning on the sink with a paper towel. Allison rolled up her sleeves, carefully placing water on her face and arms. The cold water felt so nice.

"Hey. Um, you're friends with Andy, right?"

Allison nodded.

"What's your name?"

"Allison. You're Claire," Claire raised her eyebrows in suspicion. "We have each other for Algebra… and gym."

"This is the first time I've ever seen you in this class."

Allison rolled her shoulders innocently. Claire smirked, getting the hint by Allison's lack of uniform.

"I wish I could do that," Claire grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser, patting her skin. "My friends would notice."

Claire was even prettier up close, even without the ton of make up she wore. Despite that John was with her, Allison always kept her distance. The crowd that Claire was around weren't all friendly and was partially the reason they were so secretive about their relationship.

"Is Andy doing okay?" Claire asked, curiously yet carefully. "I mean, he doesn't look sad or anything! I just assumed he'd be kinda bummed about not having as many people to talk to…"

"Depends on what you define as being 'okay'."

"I deserved that." Claire chuckled, turning off the sink. "It's good that he has someone like you. I'm really glad, he's changed a lot. God knows I wish I had someone like you."

Allison could see the crave behind Claire's cool front that she probably spent years perfecting. And Allison knew after spending time around John that Claire was being cryptic. Claire had someone like that, she just wouldn't admit it. She was the perfect princess and didn't want to admit she needed that bad boy in her life. It would ruin her.

Claire dried her hands thoroughly, then tidied her shirt before heading out the door that connected to the gymnasium.

Allison couldn't let her go, for some reason. "I know about you and John."

Claire stopped right as she was about to turn the knob. She didn't tense.

"I know," She turned, smilingly knowingly. "He told me you're the only one who knew—that you'd keep it that way."

Allison almost smiled, covering it up by letting out a squeak. John trusted her in his own weird way, the same way Allison trust him, but she didn't think it went that far.

Then, Allison frowned. "I haven't seen him lately. And when I do... He's... distant."

Claire looked down, chewing on her lip anxiously before she whispered, "It's my fault."

Allison waved her hands in front of her. "You don't have to tell me."

"I think I should," Claire let out, running a hand through her hair. "I have to—I need to talk to someone, but my friends wouldn't understand. God, if they even knew... They'd throw me aside, just like Andy."

Allison said nothing, letting Claire continue whenever she was ready. Claire moved from the door to the wall, leaning against it. She inhaled deeply, dropping the bombshell.

"He told me he loved me."

Allison's eyes widened. "Holy. Shit."

Claire snorted, folding her arms across her chest. "I know. It was random. At the same time, it was so completely like him that I shouldn't have been as surprised as I was. But... well..."

Allison didn't know what to say. She couldn't believe it as much as Claire.

Claire's shoulders slumped, and she frowned deeply against her pretty features. "We had an agreement that it was just physical. No emotional stuff, but sometimes we'd just hang out in my room and not do anything but talk. Or watch TV. And then we'd fall asleep. I guess that's how things happened."

Allison nodded slowly, digesting but already knowing. "Does that mean—"

"He drives me so crazy that some days I think I'm gonna start growing grey hairs, but I love him too." She admitted, confirming Allison's suspicion. "But you know the weirdest part? I considered him my best friend. I've never known anyone like him."

Allison swallowed her own feelings. "I'm not sure I understand what the problem is."

"A lot," Claire said loudly, vehemently, to herself. "I think he took my silence as a rejection so he ran. I don't think my parents like him very much and I know my friends won't. For sure. We're just... We're too different. A real, public relationship wouldn't work with us."

"Different can be good." Allison said easily.

"There's also his never ending list of girlfriends," Claire said, lip curled and not bothering to hide every bit of disdain. "Have you seen his wallet?"

"No," Allison dragged it for too long. "But I'm pretty sure he doesn't like them the same way he likes you."

"I don't know what to believe, honestly," Claire paused, chewing on her lip again. "But you know what's funny? If I had to do it over again, I would. The only thing I regret is keeping us a secret."

"Have you tried thinking about it in his perspective?"

Claire looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Allison counted off. "You're pretty. And popular. Guys throw themselves at your feet. You could have any of them over him. You have money. You have friends. John has none of those things. He has nothing to offer you."

"I don't care about that." Claire said quietly after a while. "He should know that by now."

"But he does care. He'll never say it but he does. A lot. He's scared that you'll find something—someone—better and leave him behind like dust."

"I'm scared, too, you know?" Claire looked ready to cry and Allison felt shitty. It wasn't her intention. "How do I know that he's not saying that to all those other girls?"

Allison sighed deeply, afraid for what she was about to say. John was still mad at her for that time she stole his lock when he wasn't paying attention. And that time she pick pocketed his knife. Who knows what would happen to her now.

"You know... about his dad, right?"

Claire pulled her lips together in a tight line. It was an uncomfortable subject for both of them. "Yes. I had to get it out of him... But I know."

"Then you should know he'd never say something like that lightly," Allison pointed out. "Besides… He... He burned all those photos."

Claire went rigid, eyes wide. "Really?"

"They're all gone," Allison responded calmly. "It's only you."

Claire stared. The initial shock was gone, replaced by neutrality. "Liar. You're saying that 'cause you two are friends."

"I'm not," She did the cross over her chest. "Swear to God."

"He told me you're a really good liar." Claire probed. "A compulsive liar, actually."

Allison wasn't fazed. "I am, but I'm not lying. Not this time. It's shitty to lie about something like this."

Claire was quiet, using the wall as support—letting everything sink in if it hadn't by now. Allison knew it was a lot to take in. Being involved with John, as a friend or as a partner, wasn't easy and would never be.

A traitorous tear slipped through Claire's eye. She wiped it away quickly with the back of her hand. "He called me a bitch once. I can't really remember what it was about, but it was probably over something stupid. I tend to turn things into a huge monster deal because I just can't let things go. He was right."

Allison shrugged. "If it helps, he's a bit of a shit."

Claire giggled at her nonchalance. "He is, but I guess I liked him enough despite that to sleep with him."

"He's a good guy. You know... Underneath all his onion layers."

Claire tried, but failed, to suppress a grin. "Way underneath."

The sound of a whistle from the gymnasium broke them out of their little bubble. Claire didn't realize she had been in here for so long, turning the knob on the door.

Allison ducked back into the stall to grab her stuff.

"Allison?" She poked her head back out to see Claire still standing there, biting her lip anxiously. "Do you mind meeting me here after school? There's... There's something I wanna show you."

There was a mischievous glint in Claire's eyes that Allison didn't like. But she found herself giving her a squeak of approval anyways.

"Where're we going?"

Claire tugged on her sleeve, pulling Allison forward. "Stop being such a brownie and just c'mon!"

Allison was surprised at how empty the mall was on a Sunday. Then again, she couldn't really remember when she had been to the mall—much less with a friend who was a girl. A very girly girl who seemed to know every make up product known to woman and had a keen eye for sales. Claire had about four bags on one arm and two on the other that she carried with ease and grace.

"Okay, enough about me. We have to get you something." She announced as they turned the corner into Macy's.

Allison followed her like a duckling. "What for?"

Claire gave her a look. "For prom. Duh."

The thought had never crossed Allison's mind. She was only a junior. "I'm... I'm not going to prom, though."

Claire shot her another incredulous look. "Of course you are. Hasn't Andy asked you?"

"Why would he ask me?"

"Oh my God," She responded seconds later. "You guys are so much worse than me and John."

"... I'm not sure whether to take that as an insult or a compliment."

Claire buried her head in her hands. "Ugh. Okay. Okay. Fine. No prom dress yet, then. But you need clothes."

Allison looked down at her attire. Usually monochrome and baggy. Comfortable. "I'm—"

Her hand shot up, silencing her. "No negotiations. Let's go."

Allison liked Claire. The more time they spent together, which was a lot since Andrew's practices had become more frequent, the more she saw how and why John had fallen for her. They were just like each other but completely different all at once.

Claire pulled a weirdly designed shirt off the rack. She had pulled a bunch already that Allison was carrying in her arms, but this one seemed to stick out to Claire the most. "This would look really nice on you."

She felt the material through her fingers. The fabric was soft, it wasn't silk but it was still really nice. Allison loved the print the most. "I didn't think you'd like something like this."

"I don't. It's the fabric and the base color that's nice. It's totally you."

Claire put the garment on top of the other shirt in Allison's arms. "But... I don't really understand. You're giving me something you don't like."

"You like it, right?" Allison hesitantly nodded. "Then it doesn't matter what I think. You're the one wearing it, not me. It's about what you want," She pulled a pair of ripped, black jeans off the rack on the other side. "These are also really you, by the way."

Allison stared at it. "I... I don't own a single pair of jeans."

Claire shrugged innocently, placing them over Allison's shoulder. "Guess that's about to change."

"Don't stick that in my eye!"

"I'm trying not to!" Claire leaned back on the stool, frustrated. "Okay, here. Try looking up at the ceiling."

Allison tried not to wiggle, but the tip of the pencil eyeliner instead of liquid felt so weird against her bottom lid. She let out sounds instead of moving. Claire tried to contain her giggles.

She never thought that sleepovers would be like this. It was just a bunch of talking, eating, watching movies, painting nails, eating, and giving weird life advice. Did she mention eating? Allison never thought a girl like Claire could eat as much as she did. She could get used to these sleep overs, honestly.

Even a month later, Claire was always careful around her friends. They didn't know about Allison. Claire was also friends with Brian and they vaguely knew about him. Smart kids always got free passes but not weirdo's like her.

Allison found that she couldn't really be truly mad over it. It was a difficult choice to separate yourself from a life you've always known. Not everyone could be Andrew—and that didn't mean she thought of Claire as being weaker willed than him. She wanted the best of both worlds.

It wasn't like Claire ignored her during school. In fact, she always, always acknowledged her presence when Allison was around. That's all that mattered.

Claire's parents were hardly ever home, too. Allison had, maybe, seen her dad a total of three times and her mom once. Claire was just loaded and lonely. John had somehow managed to find a way to occupy the empty space in her life.

Claire didn't say it. She didn't have to. Allison caught her glancing at her window sometimes. Just waiting.

"So I use the dark brown instead of the black?" Allison asked, in an effort to distract herself. "And pencil?"

"Yeah. Pencil's thinner, easier to take off."

"I don't like how it feels." Allison responded bluntly.

"I know. But I told you, you look a lot better without all that black shit."

"Hey!" She whispered loudly though nobody was home. "I like that black shit."

Claire contemplated, opening the drawer of her vanity and popping open the mascara. "Well, you could always do a smokey eye. It's nice but a lot of work. You have to get the right colors for your eyes."

"I see."

"Look up." Allison did. "Since we're both brown, I could lend you the palette. Honestly, taking it off is the worst. It's such a mess. But if you want, I could still teach you."

"Hm. No thanks. I think I'll keep it simple."

"It's the best way sometimes." Claire complimented.

"Did you finally decide what you're gonna do about prom?"

She nodded, applying a second coat. "I'm gonna go with a group of girlfriends. I really don't want to but most of them are seniors. They'll get me in. I just don't want to go alone... Or with any guy, really."

Allison knew her well enough by now to read through that.

Claire actually wanted to go with someone. But the only someone she wanted to go with would never step foot in there. And he was busy still doing whatever it was he was doing. Still, Claire decided it wouldn't stop her from enjoying one last night with her friends.

And then... There was Allison's situation. It was nothing like Claire's but the two of them still drawled over it.

Allison pursed her lips. "Don't look down!"

Allison squeaked in apology and Claire bit down a laugh. "It's just... Andrew hasn't asked me yet."

"He will." Claire said confidently.

"How can you be so sure?" Claire leaned back, eyes dancing across Allison's face. Allison blinked, feeling the wetness on her lashes. "It's been two weeks and still nothing. Prom's almost a week away."

Allison wasn't sure why she was getting so worked up about this. It was just prom. A stupid school function that wouldn't mean shit later on. It might mean a lot to someone like Claire, but it shouldn't mean anything to her.

"Guys are stupid sometimes." Claire said simply, with a shrug, closing the mascara tube. "He's probably just waiting for the 'right moment.'"

"When's that? Is there even such a thing?"

"Nope," Claire brought out the eyelash comb, sweeping through Allison's brows. "If John's shown me anything, it's that it doesn't exist. You just take the moment whenever it comes and roll with it."

"True..." Allison trailed off. He was a touchy subject that she avoided but Claire always somehow brought him up. Allison knew better than to add more to it.

Claire leaned back fully. "It looks great!"

"Does that mean I can take it off now?"

Claire looked aghast, placing a hand over her heart. "You don't even wanna see my handiwork?"

Allison shook her head, glancing at the clock on Claire's nightstand. It was past one thirty in the morning. "I just wanna go to sleep. I'm tired."

"Oh-kay. Fine. Only because you're my guest." She plucked make up wipes from the container on her vanity, gently wiping down Allison's face.

When Claire was done, they settled into her queen bed with two comforters and a stack of pillows. Claire liked her room super cold at night. Allison wasn't sure why she had so many pillows when most of them ended up on the floor. It was convenient whenever John was over, he'd use them and Claire would use him. Now that he wasn't around... Allison was something of her pillow now.

There were times when she woke up in the middle of the night with Claire pressed against her back in a fetal position. Allison didn't really mind, sometimes she'd even flip over so they were face to face. It was nice being close to someone, especially a girl.