The human mind is indeed complex. Or, perhaps it was my inherent pessimism. But anytime that anything remotely ambiguous happened, I would find myself assuming the worst. Which in this case was that Archer Wilde was dead. 

I wouldn't have entertained such a morbid thought if not for the fact that just a few hours ago, my best friend had informed me that he would indeed be attending classes. However, it was almost break time and I had seen no sign of him in school. It was possible that he had taken to simply roaming around, but I had to prepare myself for the worst. 

The signs of hope however came in the form of Marcus Byrne who strode into class just as the fourth period ended. He waved to a couple of girls on the last bench and started talking to them. I caught wisps of conversation and wouldn't usually have paid him any attention if not for the fact that he remained up to date with all the hottest news at Southern Shore High. And right now, what he was saying concerned Archer.

"-might have actually pushed too far this time. Bucket looked fucking mad."

My heart sunk to my stomach and I slowly pulled my backpack onto my shoulders. Our principal had gotten mad? There were only two instances that could make that possible. The first one was that the inflation was a little too bad and the second was that Archer had gone and finally stuck his head up his own ass. 

I slowly sidled over to the small group as Byrne turned around to see me. He shook his head as he spoke, "Wilde's probably bitten off more than he can chew."

"What is new?" I asked, shrugging as my stomach knotted uncomfortably. I struggled to sound nonchalant although my voice was dangerously close to returning to its pre-puberty form. "What happened? I heard you say he ticked Bucket off?"

He nodded and patted his buzzcut hair, his pale blue eyes gazing steadily. "That might be an understatement." 

I glanced at the two girls sitting behind him and felt my cheeks burning when I saw their eyes fixed on me. Perhaps gouging for a reaction. I set my jaw firmly and stared at Byrne instead. 

"He keyed Burnwood's car," he said. My heart sunk as he continued, "And then picked a fight with him right in the middle of the parking lot. Like a full-blown fist fighting brawl. Both of them went to Bucket's office after that. But-" he shrugged, "-that's all I know."

I sighed and nodded. The image of Ace- tall and slender, fighting the even taller and bulky Burnwood, wasn't pretty. 

"Thanks, Byrne," I nodded, my throat dry as sand paper.

He gave me a soft smile as I turned and left class, all thoughts of lunch leaving my mind as I quickened my pace and made my way to the principal's office on the ground floor. 

Marcus Byrne was one of the rare decent people I had met at Southern. Although of course, his flaw remained that he gossiped a bit too much. Maybe, hopefully, he was wrong about the brawl. Perhaps it hadn't been that bad at all and Archer was simply seriously injured but still alive. 

I walked along the mercifully empty corridor. It being break time, not many students were visible in the area. Throwing caution to the winds, I broke into a run and stopped a little further away from the large white door almost camouflaged against the white tiled walls. The nameplate on the door read 'Principal Bucket.'

I sighed and leaned against the wall, glancing at my wristwatch and wondering how long it would be till she finally releases Ace. A much more horrifying thought formed in my head. What if Marcus was right and Ace had indeed bitten off more than he can chew? What if after his several antics, Miss Bucket had finally had enough? I was positive she wouldn't rusticate him outright. Perhaps a week of warning suspension? 

With each passing minute, my heart seemed to rise higher and higher in my throat. To the point that I was sure by the time the door opened, a heart vomit would be in order. I paced around, glancing again and again at the sound proof door and cursing under my breath.

I seemed to have been pleasantly mistaken however as the door opened and Ace sauntered out. He had a dark bruise under his chin, but other than that looked perfectly fine. I heaved a sigh of relief before trepidation made my fingers turn cold. I stood straight, ready to yell at him for being an utter moron before Gus Burnwood appeared from behind him in all his bulky glory. His features were contorted in what I assumed was annoyance. His narrowed eyes shifted to me and then back to Ace. 

He seemed to smirk softly in a way that made my skin crawl and ears warm before he finally left without a word. Ace shut the door of the principal's office behind him and much to my horror, grinned at me. 

"Right on time, Miles!" He walked up to me and my words died in my throat when I saw how bad he looked. Up close, the brilliance of his azure irises was fading in contrast to the dark circles under them. His skin looked paperwhite. His hair, so dark that they would make ravens envy, looked messy. His lips parted slightly as he gasped, "You look awful."

I recoiled at his words. "Wow. Thanks."

He laughed softly. "No I mean, you look like you're constipated."

I sighed and raked a hand through my hair. "What the fuck did you do?" I whispered, "Byrne told me-"

He shrugged. "Then you already know."

I gaped at him in disbelief. "You're hurt. What happened?"

"Oh." His eyes widened slightly as he touched the mark on his chin. "This? Well, just a testament to Burnwood's douchebaggery."

"Are you gonna be okay? What did Bucket say?" I asked. I clenched my hands to keep my icy fingers from trembling. 

"She suspended me for a couple of weeks," he said and shrugged. 

I gaped at him. "She...she what?"

I couldn't believe it. Usually, because of his situation, Principal Bucket had a habit of going soft on him, which perhaps explained why he hadn't been rusticated even after so many strikes. Had she finally had enough of him? 

"You can stay at my place," I offered immediately. He opened his mouth as if to say something but shut it instead. I rambled on, "I mean, we have a spare room. My parents would be okay with that. I j-"

I stuttered to a stop as he tilted his head slightly, a soft pink hue to his cheeks as he grinned. "Thanks for the offer. I was kidding though. I've not been suspended. Let off with a warning."

I gaped silently at him, fighting the catastrophic urge to punch his way too beautiful face. I knew his sense of humour could sometimes be twisted, even cruel. I struggled to hide my immense relief as I let out a deep breath. I hated the idea of being alone at school but hated the idea of Ace being with his stepmother even more. 

"Fuck off," I said, trying to make my voice sound deeper and angrier instead as I turned on my heels and stomped away. 

He laughed and ran to catch up with me. It took his way too tall frame about three seconds to cover the distance that I had tottered to in ten seconds. 

"Afraid I'll end up killing Celia?" he asked in a nauseatingly mocking tone. 

"Is that supposed to be funny?" I said from the corner of my mouth, refusing to look at him lest I break. 

"It kinda is. I don't know if she would kill me first or vice versa. You'd put your money on me though, won't you?" He placed an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and messing up my hair playfully as I scowled and pushed him away. 

I rolled my eyes, pulling the straps of my backpack closer to my body. "There's an opening for Cinderella in the play next week. You should audition. You have a flair for being dramatic."

"Is that supposed to be funny?" he said, and even though I couldn't see his face, I knew he was grinning. 

"What did he do to you? Why did you key his car?" I asked through grit teeth. 

"I work in mysterious ways, Spencer," he said and nodded. "But he did say some dumb shit."

"So? You should've said something back to him. Ruining his car is going way too far. And I assume you'll have to pay monetary compensation for that?" I glanced at him and saw his jaw tense.

"Yeah. I should've said something brilliant like-" he scrunched up his face and spoke in a somewhat shrill, baby voice impression which I was almost sure was an imitation of me when I got overexcited. "No, you."

I felt my ears heating up. "No, but...you don't think keying his car is going a bit far?"

I didn't know what Burnwood had said to him, but as an advocator of non-violence and possessor of brain cells who knew picking a fight with anyone would possibly result in a few broken jaws, I never approved of how frequently Ace got into fights. Of course, his streak had increased after middle school. And although he had never been in a serious fight or ended up going to a hospital (yet), his increasingly vagabond ways were worrying in itself enough. 

"Yeah it is," he said, shrugging. "But it's okay. No harm done."

I sighed, "You could've been suspended."

He grinned, "I call it a surprise vacation."

I struggled to keep a straight face as we made our way to the grounds. The cafeteria during this time would usually be too noisy for my liking, so we resorted to sitting on the much more deserted grounds. 

"Do you have something to eat? I'm kinda hungry," he said, pouting slightly as we sat on the comforting grass. The grounds were sparsely populated. Mostly by couples holding hands and a few scattered groups of people lounging around. 

"I do have egg sandwiches but I'm not sure you deserve them, Wilde." I shook my head as I reached for my lunch box in my backpack, handing it to him silently. Mom always made extra lunch for me because she knew I would share with Ace, but I had never told him that. It wouldn't make any difference since he would eat both our halves anyway. Knowing that he had a habit of starving himself, I didn't have the heart to stop him. 

"You're not gonna eat?" he asked as he reached for a sandwich. 

"I will. Once you're done," I answered.

"What makes you think there will be any left?" he raised an eyebrow at me. 

I almost smiled. "That's okay."

He shrugged and took a bite. "I'm not noble enough, Miles."

I gazed at the way the bright sunlight shimmered between his dark strands. The way his lashes cast shadows against his pale cheeks. The way his eyes lit up like brilliant sapphires. The way his lips would make the petals of a rose wither in shame. 

I caught my breath and quickly turned my gaze away from him. My heart fluttered in painful anxiety and I quickly blurted out, "By the way missed. Solids."

He chuckled as I forced myself to face him. He cocked an eyebrow, "English please, sir."

I took a deep breath, my head dizzy from the sudden whiff of floral scent when he leaned in slightly. I had never realized if it was his own fragrance since he always seemed to wear it, or some mystery cologne. It wasn't overpoweringly flowery, nor too musky. Just...right. 

"Uh- you missed chem today. We studied Crystallography in solids and she said we will have a quiz next week so you should probably study that." I hoped my grammar was comprehensible enough this time. 

"Oh," he sighed and leaned back, placing his hands on the grass and stretching his legs out in front of him. "You take care of that."

I didn't say anything. Telling him about the quiz was more of an attempt to distract me from the insane pounding of my heart than to actually ask him to study. I knew he wouldn't. Unless I forced him to like I did every time.

I couldn't understand when exactly I had developed such a massive crush on him. I had never even known my own sexuality before I realized that I liked him. A lot. And maybe it was just the fact that he had never really had any girlfriend that kept me hoping. The moment he got one, I would resign myself to just leave. Although the thought was so impossibly heartbreaking that my own chest seemed to collapse under a force greater than gravity. 

In an extremely unhealthy way, no matter how many people Archer Wilde punched during the day, he was fragile by the solitude of the night. And I felt like no one could really understand him. Or appreciate his nuances. Or had enough patience to put up with his rampant bullshit. 

In a masochistic way, I wanted to be the only one who could know him like that.  

"-and you need to tutor me for English. I didn't turn in the review so I'm guessing I'll need at least a sixty per cent to make up for it," he said and sighed. 

My face burned and I turned my gaze away from him, picking at a blade of grass. "Uh I- you did. I mean you did turn it in."

I could feel his eyes swivel to me as I stuttered. "I mean Merchant of Venice. I did the review. For you. I submitted. Told her you're sick."

He was quiet for a long while. Was I pathetic for doing this for him? Perhaps. But I kept telling myself that I was only doing this because he was a friend and not because I desperately wanted him to need me. 

"Oh. Thanks," he said. 

An awkward silence fell after that which I didn't dare to break. I picked at the innocent blade of grass again, my heart in my throat. I just didn't want him to get into any more trouble than he actively did. Any best friend would do that. It was perfectly normal. Wasn't it?

I finally managed to look at him, which did nothing to cease the wild pounding of my heart as I found him gazing steadily at me.

"What did that ever do to you?" he asked softly. 

I gaped at him, unable to understand what he meant. "Huh?"

"That grass. What did the poor chap do to you?" He gestured towards my hands where I had subconsciously been picking a patch of the grass bare. I sucked in a deep breath and clenched my fists to keep my nervousness from making me do stupid shit. 

"S-sorry," I stuttered and bit my lip. 

"Did you just apologize to the grass?" he asked, an amused smirk on his face. 

"It's a living being," I defended myself.

"I have apologized to doors after banging into them. I reckon you're alright," he grinned.

He leaned back, turning his face towards the sky and shutting his eyes. I noticed with a sinking heart how his jaw seemed sharper. He had gradually been eating less and less to the point that I brought him lunch every day in hopes of making him eat. I was inclined to blame his carelessness on the trauma he had undergone a few years ago. Something he hated to talk about so much that even I didn't know the full details of it. I never pushed. I would never push.

"Miles?" he said softly after a while. 

"Yeah?" I answered, my heart fluttering again at his tone. 

"Please don't put mayonnaise in the sandwich. I fucking hate it."

I sat still for a while before I burst out laughing. He smiled at me. "Or if you do, use the mint flavoured one. I really like that."

"Wow. Entitled much?" I asked, raising an eyebrow even as I grinned.

"Yes. Very."

He lay on his back and shut his eyes. Even though I was sure the bright sunlight wouldn't let him fall asleep here in the middle of the grounds, just the way his chest rose and fell gently, the way a soft smile played around his lips. He looked at home. So calm and peaceful for once that I wanted to stare at him till the end of time. 

I decided to let him lay for a while and reached for my phone, unlocking it and opening the shopping list. I typed into it so now it read four things. 

cream cheese
vinegar
sweet corn
mint mayo