It's around 9 p.m. by the time I get home. I haven't been talking to my mom as much as before, but she's been more supportive than I expected. In fact, she's been so patient considering how distant I've been, and I think the reason for that is Denise. In fact, I'm confident it's because of Denise. And although the pain of her loss is still there, and I hate using it as an excuse, the alternative isn't any better. I can't really tell her the truth—oh, hey mom, I'm teaming up with a boy who tried to kill me, who I also have a crush on, and we're fighting the alien who killed Denise. No big deal. Oh, I forgot to mention, I also saw my friend's corpse today, and it definitely didn't traumatize me. I sigh.

"Gwennie," my dad says as I pour myself a glass of water.

I turn to face him and smile. He's wearing his sweatpants and the old graphic t-shirt Mom hates, and I can tell he just finished watching TV because it's still on the football channel he obsessively watches sometimes.

"Hey, Daddy."

My dad leans over the kitchen counter, and I take a sip of my drink. "So," he starts, "what's up? Is everything okay?"

I touch the glass of water on the counter and intertwine my hands in front of me like a little girl. "Yes," I quickly say. "I've just been busy with homework…and tests."

My dad frowns, takes a step forward, and wraps his arms around me in a warm embrace. It takes everything in me not to start crying and reveal everything to him. No, I'm not okay. No, I'm lying to you and everyone around me.

"I'm really okay."

"I'll pretend to believe you this time." He takes a step back. "But when you're ready to talk, I'm here."

I smile at his supportive words. I appreciate it, him not pushing me but being there for me at the same time.

"Oh, I also wanted to ask." He pauses for a few seconds, as if unsure how to approach the subject. "I've seen that boy who picks you up and drives you home sometimes, but you never talk about him. Is he your boyfriend?"

A blush creeps onto my face. "No," I quickly say, shaking my head. "He's just a friend I… I have to tutor for class."

My dad pushes his glasses further up his nose, obviously unconvinced but not commenting on it. I guess he expects me to tell him another time—which is true, I will eventually.

"You can go to sleep now," he says. "You look more tired than me, and I worked a full day today."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

I turn around and start walking upstairs.

"Oh, and Gwen, your mother and I thought you should know… Denise's mom is coming for dinner tomorrow."

I freeze in the middle of the stairs at his words. Another thing to feel guilty about. I haven't reached out to Denise's mom since her death, despite her expressing her wishes to talk to me.

"Is that okay?" my dad asks after noticing my silence.

"Yes, that's fine," I quickly say and continue walking up the stairs.

Once I reach the top of the stairs, I rush to my room and shut the door behind me. I fall face down on the bed. My muscles ache, my head still hurts, and parts of my body feel like they're on fire. Standing up after a few minutes, I change out of my school uniform into a loose tank top and shorts, then head to the bathroom to brush my tangled hair. As I let my hair down and stare into the mirror, my eyes widen. I look down at my shoulders and upper arms in disbelief. There are bruises all over my skin. They're purple and black, stretching across my skin, and contrasting sharply. The exact same marks appear on my wrist. I instinctively touch them, wincing in pain.

How did I even get these? I lift my tank top, only to discover more bruises accompanied by a horrifying bite mark across my waist. I shake my head and push my shirt back down. There must be a logical explanation for this. I almost got injured before Michael saved me—it was a close call, so they could be from that. Or they might be old. Considering how exhausted I've been, I could have forgotten about them.

I lie back down on my bed and sigh. I guess I'll think about this tomorrow. It's just an injury anyway, nothing new. I close my eyes and try to drift off to sleep. But images of Dawn's lifeless eyes and hollow skin play before me. Oh, how much she must have suffered before dying, all alone and scared with no one to help her. Who knows how long she was left there, dead, with no one around? And to think we still need to figure out what to do about it…

I reach for my phone on my nightstand and unlock it. It's 12 a.m. Yeah, I don't think sleep is coming tonight. My phone hovers over the text app and over Kevin's name.

"Are you awake?" I type, then wait a few seconds before hitting 'send'.

I know he usually is around this time. I don't know if I should expect him to respond—he's been pretty annoyed with the whole Michael situation.

He reads my message, but a few minutes pass by without a response. Yep, still annoyed then. I shut off the screen of my phone and sigh. Before I can even contemplate it further, my phone starts vibrating, and Kevin's name pops up. He is calling me. I press the dial button and hold the phone against my ear.

Neither of us says anything. I can hear his breathing over the phone, and I take a deep breath as well, trying to relax. I'm not sure how many minutes we remain like this, but it feels oddly comforting, almost as if he is by my side.

"Gwen?" Kevin asks.

I hum in response.

"…I'm sorry for today," he says, then pauses, sharply exhaling. I can hear him shifting around. "Are you okay?"

I nod, but then I remember he can't see me. "Yes… I just," I pause. "I can't sleep. I keep thinking of Dawn. I can't imagine how much she must have suffered—you saw her state. Oh, Kevin, I—"

"None of this is on you, you know that, right?" he quickly says. "I know you." I squeeze my phone tighter at this. "And I know you'll find some stupid way to turn things around and blame yourself. Whoever did this will pay, just like Amperon will."

I smile at this.

"…Do you…want me to come pick you up?" The hesitance is clear in his voice.

"Would you mind staying on call with me? Just until I fall asleep?" I take a deep breath and bite my lip.

"…Yes," he says, and I hear him moving again. "Yes, I'll stay on call with you. I'll be working on my car."

"Thank you."

Kevin doesn't reply. I lie back down, and my head touches my soft pillow. I can hear the sounds he makes as he picks up his tools and places them on the ground to work on his car. I can just imagine his face full of concentration, almost as if there is nothing and no one around him. Or the sweat dripping from his forehead after working on it for hours.

I focus on the sound and the imagery, and my eyelids slowly start to droop. But I don't see Dawn, Denise, or anyone else—the last thing I see and hear instead is Kevin and his presence.

As expected, after the conversation with Jennie, the whole school is talking about the 'missing girls.' Dawn not showing up to school is the main subject, and rumors about her odd behavior are getting out of control. Sadly, this means getting information is kind of impossible. Some students are saying she was dating a sketchy guy, while others say she ran away from home because her parents were abusive.

I sit in the cafeteria, pulling out my phone the moment I receive a text from Michael. Kevin and I haven't exactly spoken since last night, and something tells me he will choose to act like last night simply never happened.

"Would you like to go to dinner with me tonight?" Michael's text reads, and it leaves me surprised. After about 30 seconds, he texts again. "We can discuss the situation and how to deal with it as well."

I hover over the text, thinking it through. I'm not sure if Kevin would be eager to join or if Michael's invitation even extends to Kevin. But I agree we need to meet up and discuss everything.

"Maybe tomorrow? I have plans for tonight."

"Hey, Gwen," Jennie says, sitting next to me. "Are you coming to the party next week?"

"The party?"

"You know, the 'end of the world party' Brandon and his friends arranged. Apparently, it's a big deal, like people from other schools will attend as well. You really need to come," she continues. "And bring your hot friend as well."

"Who?" I raise an eyebrow.

"The new student, the guy you always hang out with. Don't think I haven't noticed," Jennie says, winking. "I know Anna has the biggest crush on him, but I can tell there's something going on with the two of you."

I shake my head and look down at my food, blushing. "Oh, no, we're just friends."

"Are you sure? Then you wouldn't mind if Anna made a move?"

"I—" I stop, the words catching in my throat.

"Knew it. But I won't torture you; you both should come." She stands up with her food tray. "Anyway, see you later."

I watch as Jennie walks away and heads to her friend group, which also includes Anna. I'm not exactly surprised she has a crush on Kevin, but I'm also not surprised that Kevin is completely oblivious to it. He walks into the cafeteria, passing by Jennie's friend group. Anna greets Kevin, and he turns around, confused at first, but then awkwardly smiles and waves back at her.

I look away and down at my phone as Michael sends me another text.

"Tomorrow sounds perfect. Will your friend come too?"

I think over his words, then text him back. "Not sure yet."

"I won't mind either way. :)"

Kevin sits across from me. He scowls as he looks at my phone and sees the name 'Michael' on the screen.

I roll my eyes at his reaction. "He wants to meet with me—us," I correct, though I'm not being completely truthful. "But I can't tonight. I have, um… Denise's family coming for dinner."

Kevin's expression instantly softens, and he looks shocked and sympathetic at the same time. "Oh," he says. "...Are you gonna be fine?"

"I will. It's time I face everything anyway. Enough running away."

"Well, give me a call if, ya know, you need something."

I'm about to speak, to ask him about last night and why he's pretended it never happened all day today. Frankly, I'm confused. But before I can even utter another word, Michael calls.

"Michael?" I say.

"Yes, sorry for calling so suddenly," Michael says. "But I might have important news just now. Can you meet me?"

"Um, yes, yes, we can. We'll meet you right after school."

"See you then."

We hang up, and I place my phone back in my pocket. I know Kevin heard the whole exchange. And he definitely doesn't look happy about it.

"He says it's important," I say, hoping it'll ease his annoyance. "We should go; it could be something helpful."

Kevin bites the inside of his cheek. Something tells me that he knows I might go by myself if he doesn't come.

"Yeah, okay, whatever, we'll go then."

I smile in satisfaction and take a bite of my food.

"Everyone's acting weird today," Kevin notes.

"Like how?"

"Minus the gossiping theories about that Dawn girl that I've heard over and over again? I got invited to a party," he continues. "Five times, by five different people."

"We have Mr. Popular here. Are you thinking about attending?"

"I hate parties," he says, the disgust almost clear in his voice.

I laugh. "I'd assume the opposite. You seem like the go-out-and-party type."

He seems almost confused by that, then he rests both of his hands on the table. "I'd rather not talk to people more than I have to. And parties require a bit of that, if you haven't noticed."

"Maybe we should go," I quickly say, not addressing his point. "Your first proper high school party? I'm not a fan either, but it's an experience."

Kevin shrugs. "I'll think about it, but it's a big 'no' so far."

"Come on, don't be like that. You might enjoy it; you never know." I poke him playfully, and he smirks.

"If it means seeing you wearing a revealing dress instead of the school uniform, then I will."

My face heats up at his remark, and I look down at my food tray at the same time Kevin does. Count on Kevin to cause a reaction out of me. And count on him to talk without thinking first. I'm really glad he's in a better mood and not arguing over Michael again (or his clear distrust of him), but we both know there are a lot—and I mean a lot—of unresolved…things between us. We're still pretending the kiss never happened. We're still pretending last night never happened. And we're still pretending we don't like each other.

And on top of everything, Kevin won't stop with his bipolar mood—I can feel him mooning over me when he thinks I'm not looking, and when I catch him in the act, he'll just look away and remain distant for a while. And then, sometimes, kind of like now, he'll make flirty remarks.

The bell rings, marking the end of lunch and the start of the final lessons. Kevin and I head to the same class as we cross through the sea of students. We enter the class, and I take a seat next to Kevin this time. The teacher isn't here yet, so a lot of the students are wandering around the room, talking with each other or playing on their phones.

"I forgot my textbook at home," Kevin whispers as he leans closer to me. I feel shivers up and down my spine. "Is that gonna get me in trouble or something?"

I pull my textbook out of my bag, slightly shake it, and then place it in the middle of our desks. "You're fine. The teacher won't even notice, most likely; just don't be too obvious."

"I'll try." Kevin slides his chair closer to me, and his eyes linger on my arm. "Aren't you warm?"

"Huh?" I ask. Then I realize he's talking about my long sleeves. I've pulled them further down than normal, enough so they can hide my bruised wrists and avoid any awkward questions. "No, I'm not."

He presses his lips together. "You sure?"

"Yes, Kevin, I'm sure," I say impatiently, wanting the subject dropped as soon as possible. "It's not even that warm outside anyway."

He opens his mouth to speak, but the teacher walks in, interrupting him. I can't say I'm not glad. I know it could lead to another argument, and I know he would definitely question the bruises more than I would.

The class starts, and I find my mind wandering once again. I don't think I'm exactly ready for dinner tonight. I know they're going to bring up Denise, her death, and they'll ask about my life. A part of me is scared I might slip up and tell the truth—I don't like having to lie to people, especially when it involves something as big and serious as someone's death.

And despite that, I hate not being able to talk about things with anyone. Especially with Denise. It's still hard to get used to, even if it's been some time now. If only I could talk to Denise about Kevin… she would definitely love and hate him at the same time, I know it. A sad smile tugs at my lips at the thought of the two of them interacting.

"Gwen?" Kevin says, touching my shoulder and causing me to faintly wince.

"Hmmm?"

"Class is over. And they say I'm the bad student," he teases.

I look around as the rest of the students are already walking out of class, while some others continue to gather their notes and belongings.

"We've already proved the 'bad student' thing wrong." I stand up as soon as everything is in my bag. Kevin does the same, and we walk out of class, and finally out of the school.

We enter his car, and I sink into the leather seat.

"Let's go to Michael's; he's waiting for us."

Kevin grunts in affirmation and starts driving off. Not long after, we reach the front of Michael's house. We exit the car, and although Kevin eyes the house with as much caution as any other time, he still follows behind me to the front door.

"Behave, okay?" I remind Kevin, currently not in the mood for any arguments.

"I'm not a dog." He folds his arms over his chest.

The door opens before I even have the chance to knock on it.

"Glad you could make it so soon," Michael says in his usual formal voice. He opens the door wider, and we enter his house. Michael once again wraps his hand around my wrist to gently drag me further inside, but a soreness takes over, and I pull away with an apologetic look. He doesn't question it. We move further into his house and into the security room. Michael shuts the door behind him, slamming it directly into Kevin's face. Michael quickly apologizes, and I can tell it was a harmless accident.

"You said it's important," Kevin says with harshness in his voice. "So talk."

"I was looking over the cameras and I saw something odd," Michael explains. I lean closer to the computer screen, squinting my eyes. Michael moves next to me as well until our shoulders are basically touching.

"What is that?"

Michael presses play on the footage. It's the same street where Dawn was found. It's late at night again, the street void of people, but then flashes of light appear. It's brief, and they appear in different places at once, but once it's over, there are posters on the walls, on electrical poles, and on the ground. I can't see what it says. Michael enhances the footage and zooms in on the poster, and that's when I clearly see it.

"The 'end of the world' party?" I ask, looking between Kevin and Michael.

"Yes, I heard about it," Michael answers. He walks to the side, holding two cups of tea and handing one to me. He stretches his hand towards Kevin and is about to give it to him, but Michael's hand slips and the tea spills all over Kevin's shirt.

"Motherfucke—"

"I'm so sorry," Michael says, setting the now empty cup back on the table.

Kevin clenches his jaw, and I make eye contact with him. I can tell he is trying to control the anger in him, and his fists clench and unclench a few times.

"Where's the fucking bathroom?" Kevin says, still trying to control his anger.

"In the back, go down the hall, open the first door to your left, and then the second door to your right." Michael points towards it. "Again, I'm so sorry about that."

I can tell it's taking all of Kevin's self-control not to snap at Michael. And I know that if I wasn't in the room, he would have already hit him, probably punched him or worse. In a way, I appreciate it. Kevin looks at me for another second, then steps out of the room and slams the door loudly behind him.

I continue looking at the door, and then I feel Michael's hand on my forearm. "Have you been okay?" he asks, his voice sincere. "I know what happened yesterday was upsetting."

He continues to hold my forearm, and my brain grows foggy, my concentration on my surroundings broken, and my worries for the day disappearing. I instinctively move closer to him, and he uses his other arm as well to touch me. I smile at him and stare directly into his blue eyes.

"...Yes, yes," I say. "It was, but I feel better now."

"I'm glad to hear that," Michael says, taking another step closer to me. "Again, I'm sorry you had to witness something like that, but it should all be okay from now on."

Looking at him up close, I'm surprised I didn't notice how handsome he is before. Almost unrealistically so. His hair is perfectly styled, and his eyes are staring into mine, then move down to my lips.

"I really hope so," I say. "I know Dawn was your friend too. How are you dealing with this?"

He frowns but doesn't take his eyes away from mine. "I'm definitely feeling better now."

I nod. "I'm better too."

Michael continues to hold my arm, and I place my hand on top of his, suddenly feeling the urge to feel his touch. I don't know why or what about it, but it makes me feel good. All my worries have suddenly disappeared, and instead, my thoughts are replaced by a bliss-like feeling that flows throughout my whole body.

"I wanted to ask you if you would like to go to the party with me this Friday?"

I instantly nod. It suddenly sounds like the best idea. "Uh-huh. I would love to."

"Perfect. I'll be looking forward to it." There is a small pause, and I look down at our hands. "And our next time together. I hope we'll be alone."

I hope the same if it means I'll be feeling so good. I open my mouth to respond, but the door bursts open, and Kevin enters the room.

"This house is a goddamn maze." He wipes his slightly damp shirt and face, then looks between me and Michael. "Is everything okay here?" His eyes fall on Michael's hand on my forearm and mine on top of his.

"Of course," Michael says. "We were talking about Dawn."

Kevin, unconvinced, looks at me. "We were," I say, but then turn my gaze towards Michael.

"We should get going now," Kevin says with a hostile voice.

Kevin's voice is instantly blocked out, and I focus on Michael, my whole attention hanging on the tip of his tongue and what he is going to say or do. I can't focus on anything else, even if I try. And frankly, I don't mind.

"I'll talk to you later?" Michael asks me, smiling. "I'll text you."

"I'll be waiting," I say.

Michael lets go of me, and I bite my tongue to stop myself from complaining at the sudden loss of that amazing feeling. I want more of it.

Kevin starts walking out of the house, and I follow behind him, my eyes still glued to Michael, who waves at me. I finally break eye contact as I'm forced to exit the building and follow behind Kevin until we enter his car. I just want to go back. Or open my phone and text Michael right away.

"What was that about?" Kevin asks me.

"Huh? What was what?"

"The whole act," he continues. "Are the two of you dating now or something?"

"No," is all I say.

"So let me see—" He turns to face me while he's still not driving. "First, he acts like an asshole and spills tea on me to get rid of me." He pushes a finger up as if he's counting.

"It was an accident and—"

"Then I return to the room, and you're completely blanking me," Another finger up, "He's holding you close," Another finger, "And you're inches away from kissing him." He finally places his hands back on the steering wheel. "Oh, and let's not forget the whole 'talk to you later,' 'I'll be waiting.'"

I suddenly feel defensive, and I press my nails against my palm as I clench my fists. "Why do you pretend to care?" I finally snap. "You never cared before—or is it just because you don't like Michael?"

Kevin's face hardens, and he starts the car engine. "You're right. I don't care."

He starts driving, and I look out of the window, my brain still foggy and distracted. I can't even think of Kevin's words or our argument right now. I already knew he didn't care. Michael has given me more attention in the few days we've known him compared to Kevin in the months I've known him. I sigh as my thoughts go back to that blissful feeling I felt when Michael touched me. Now that things are starting to become somewhat clearer, I find myself craving it even more.

The car comes to a stop, and I lift my head as I realize we've arrived at my home.

I take a look at Kevin, who is still staring straight ahead at the road, and I'm unsure if I should even say anything. I exit the car and wave at him. But he simply drives off without even glancing back at me.