"Hey," He said softly from behind her, watching the smoke disappear into thin air, "can I sit?"

She breathed out again, not budging, acting as if she could care less that he was there, "You could've sold me out." She spoke with no emotion, flicking her cigarette so the ashes would fall on the ground, knowing that the wind would sweep it away soon enough.

He let out a soft chuckle, and when it cracked, she realized his nerves had gotten the best of him, "What?" He knew. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I know you smelled it on me when I walked in, but you acted like everything was fine." She looked up at him, "That is why you argued with me about taking a sip of your beer, and I get it. I forgive you even if you don't apologize."

"How generous of you." He was only being half-sarcastic as he finally sat down, letting out a sigh, a little glad that he knew it was his breath he saw come out and not smoke.

"So, I know you hate cigarettes." -she hesitated, taking in the city before her and the noises that surrounded- "Why are you out here?"

"Because I know you don't smoke unless you have something going on." Before she could come up with a rebuttal, he spoke again, "And I also know that our little spat in there wasn't enough for you to want to destroy your lungs, so what is it?"

Clara let out something like a scoff, but Thomas knew she was trying to hide a nervous chuckle. It was one of those things that if you didn't know her, you wouldn't be able to tell. She shook her head, pushing her bangs out of her face, "It's nothing." She put the cigarette between her lips again, only for Thomas to grab her wrist, his eyes wide when he noticed.

"Your ring." He spoke so softly that she wouldn't have heard him if he wasn't so close, and after exchanging lingering stares, she yanked her wrist away from him.

"So what?" She mumbled through the smoke she blew out.

"S-so what? Clare, this was your ring! I can't believe I didn't even notice, I am so sorry."

"It was just a ring. I have plenty of other things from my mom." She was quiet for a minute, putting her cigarette out on the concrete they were sitting on, "And besides, it isn't like she was ever there for me or my dad. It isn't like she even cared the slightest about me. She was a drunk and a whore when she left and she was the same when she died. She was never anything more to me than that." She let out a breath, buttoning up her coat in a lame attempt to keep warm. "I don't need anything to remind me of that anyway. It was just a stupid ring." She stood up, almost walking past him, but he had stood up when she did, and he grabbed her arm, pulling her in his direction.

He placed his hands on her cheeks, hoping it would force her to stare into his eyes, but she only looked to her feet as he held her face, "Look, I know that is how you might have seen her, but I assure you, she cared about you. I think she just was never in the right place to see you and before she could get better, she died, but she loved you, Clare. Who couldn't love you?"

Clare slowly looked up and at his eyes, a -fake- smile forming on her face, "How could someone as cute as you be so dumb?" He narrowed his eyes and she continued, taking his hands off of her cheeks and into her own. "She didn't care about me. If she did, she would have written a letter, or mailed me a birthday card. She never did anything for me. She was selfish and if she was still alive; I know for a fact that the situation would not have changed. She would still not have given a damn about me, and I would have searched the world just to know who she was--to know why she left in the first place." -she nearly didn't finish, but then she spoke again, only faster, the sobs becoming harder to hold back- "To know why the hell it was so easy for her to leave a little girl in the hands of someone who clearly didn't know what he was doing, but he sure did a better job than her because she didn't even try." Her eyes were filled with tears, but she tried to ignore them, even when they fell down her cheeks. She doesn't need her mom. Never did.

"M-maybe she was just scared or--"

She placed a hand on his cheek, shutting him up, "No, T, when you are scared, you don't run away from family. Family is there to help you through hard times and all she ever did for me was give me more and more questions. The only reason I got to know her was because she died and I have come to terms with it."

Thomas stared into her watery eyes for a bit, trying to know who she was striving to convince--him or herself, "Have you? You don't smoke just to smoke."

"God, Thomas." She shouted, pushing away from him, startling him, and causing him to stumble a bit. He wasn't shocked because she pushed him away, but because she used his full name. "Do you ever sometimes think that you don't know everything about me? I could have changed!"

"You have been doing the same thing since we were twelve. You don't think I would notice if you changed?" He stepped toward her and she didn't move, keeping her arms crossed, her head held high.

"Well, then maybe you don't know me at all." She threw her arms out to the side and she watched as he raised his eyebrows, his eyes widening.

"Don't know you at all?" She nodded, watching him take another step toward her, "Clare, I have known you since you got your first period, and my sister had to drive us to the drugstore. I have been there with you through every heartbreak and every lousy cheesy guy you date. I have been around long enough to know that when you say nothing is hurting you, something is hurting you, but you are just too fucking stubborn to say it. I am your best friend and the fact that you won't allow me to help you doesn't surprise me, so how about we just skip the bullshit and you tell me what your problem really is?"

"Or how about you leave me the fuck alone because I don't have a problem and don't need your help?" She took a large step, having to look up at him.

"Stop being so fucking stubborn and let me help you." She could tell he was getting irritated, but that didn't bother her; it just meant that he would leave.

"I don't need your help T, okay? I have been doing just fine."

"Yeah, sure, doing just fine by smoking cancer sticks as much as you can before it kills you. What number you at so far, huh? How far do you think you'll get before your lungs get all black and deteriorated?" He moved an inch closer, no personal space between them now, causing his breath to hitch, but she just kept a stone expression.

Thomas moved back a bit and her eyes suddenly went to slits, "Seeing as I have always had strong lungs, I think I have quite some time."

"You mean you used to have strong lungs. Now you have the lungs of a seventy-year-old." He noticed her hand ball into a fist, "Do you suppose that is how your mom died? From cigarettes? Or do you think it is because she was a drunk?"

"Knock it off, T." She warned, but he chose not to listen.

"What? You said you don't care about her anyway, so it must mean that it is okay for me to talk crap about her too. I mean, she probably didn't have much going for her, so who cares, right?" He was waiting for it. He knows her like the back of his hand. He knows she still cares.

"T, I am serious, I am going to clock you if you don't shut up in the next ten seconds," Clara spoke through her teeth, not believing that he had the audacity to say that.

"You sure you don't want to just get money from me and then never pay me back? That is what she did with your father, ri--" He didn't get to finish the word before she lifted her fist, nearly hitting him in the jaw, but he stopped her hand, smirking, "I knew you cared about her,"

Tears filled her eyes quicker than she could speak when really all she wanted to do was scream at him for being such a jerk and knowing her too well. Though, she knew that wouldn't work, so she took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, "Of course I cared about her, T. She was my mom. Even though she was probably a horrible person, I like to think that she still cared about me too. Or maybe even thought about me and wondered how I was doing and I hate myself for it."

He pulled her closer to his chest, holding her tightly, "Don't hate yourself, Clare. It just means you are as normal as the rest of us. I am just glad I got it out of you before you went off on another member of our group."

"It would have been El. I can't believe she is having sex tonight." She said, sort of muttered from her cheek being squished up against his chest.

He chuckled and she felt the vibration on her face, but it didn't make her move away. He was warm and she was cold, and she liked being warm for a change, "I doubt it. She is still hung up on the 'perfect guy' thing."

Clare closed her eyes, smiling a bit, melting into his touch, "I think it is kind of sweet. She is a sweet girl and she deserves a sweet guy." It was silent for a minute before she pulled away a bit from him, "Hey, what if she went out with you?"

"Funny." He said, but then he got worried that she actually meant it. How could she be so blind?

"No, I am being serious. You guys have been friends forever and I don't think it would be much different if you two dated." She shrugged one shoulder, her hands interlocked behind his back and his doing the same.

"You can stop telling your joke now, I got it." He spoke in a serious tone, letting her know that he really needed her to shut up, but she didn't get the hint.

She narrowed her eyes, not understanding why he was getting peeved off, "What? You don't think that you two would work out?"

"No, I don't. I think she knows I have my eye on someone else."

Her eyes lit up, a smile forming on her lips as she practically jumped up and down, "Really? Who is it?"

"I am not going to say."

"Can I guess then?" Clara asked, not ready to give up so easily.

"You aren't going to get it." He told her, knowing very well she would never guess the one person it was. She was absolutely clueless and sometimes it was irritating.

"C'mon T, you know I have been great at guessing."

"Not this time."

"Is it Mar?" She ignored his remark, guessing anyway, having a feeling that she would eventually get it.

"No. You know that she and Parker secretly have a thing." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes widened when he saw how confused she looked, realizing now that she wasn't only clueless about who he liked, but when others liked one another. She just sucked at love in general.

"They do?"

"Well, yeah, but they have yet to know about it." Thomas tried to explain it the best he could, but she waved it away with her hand as if it was a bug.

She then went back to guessing, "Is it the girl who works night shifts at the bar? She's pretty hot." She gave him a knowing nod, basically telling him that he should 'hit that' when he rolled his eyes.

"No, her boyfriend might just kill me if I did."

"Right, forgot about Jerry." She sighed, "Can you just tell me? I promise I won't say anything."

He shook his head, "Nah if I say, it'll mess up the entire group."

"Is she someone we don't like?" She gasped, covering her mouth, "Oh my God, you like STD girl again."

He smiled, bowing his head before shaking it, "No, it isn't her. Learned my lesson the first time."

"Well, this is harder than I thought because you don't talk to that many girls, T." She seemed defeated and he just grinned, knowing that he turned out to be right after all.

"That should make it easier, not harder,"

"Just tell me." Clara practically pleaded, just wanting to know already.

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head a bit, "You sure?"

She nodded, "Yes, I am sure."

"Nah. It isn't the right time."

"Right time? T, if she is as smart as I am, she would say yes to date right now."

"I doubt it."

"Tell me who it is and I will be your wing-woman." She winked after she said it and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"I don't think I will." He let go and walked back into the bar, smiling when he heard the door open behind him, knowing that she followed him.

"Just tell me," Clara whined, a couple people in the bar looking at her from how loud she spoke, but she didn't care.

"Not happening." He shrugged, picking up his beer on the edge of the table that Mar took earlier and sipping it, hiding his grin.

"What's going on?" Mar asked, sitting up straight from leaning on Parker.

Clare slid into the booth, Thomas following after her, "T has a crush on a girl and he won't tell me who." In her tone, you could just tell she was annoyed.

Mar glanced at Thomas, smiling when she saw him staring at Clara like it was the first time he was seeing the stars. She nudged Parker, and he clenched her thigh when he saw it, causing her to squeal and jump. "Oh, are you okay? Do you need ice? C'mon, let's go." He grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the booth.

"What the hell was that for Parker?" She slapped his shoulder and he rolled his eyes.

"We just made the bet and I was not prepared to lose so soon." He looked over her shoulder at them, noticing the innocent flirting by a mile, "So, new rule, we both cannot interfere. If we do, the other wins automatically."

Not wanting to lose, she accepted, and they went back to the booth. "Turns out I don't need ice after all." She faked a smile and they were so caught up in their own dilemma, they believed it.

"Can one of you get him to tell you?"

Parker went to grab her thigh again and she swatted away his hand, smiling in satisfaction when she noticed him in pain, putting her chin in her own hand and her elbow on the table. "Nah, sorry, this is between you and him. Besides, Parker and I have a thing to go to." She turned to him, continuing to smile while his eyes went wide.

"What thing?" Clara asked, now intrigued to hear more about their lie.

"Pfft, you know. The, um," Parker started, hiding his hands so she couldn't see that he was sweating. They all know he sweats when under pressure, "the thing at the place."

"Very specific. I wish I could go." Thomas said, knowing too that they were lying.

"Yeah, well, sorry, you can't. Have fun." And with those words, she pushed Parker out of the booth, and they ran out of the bar, pushing past someone who walked in with their head down.

Clara didn't look away from Thomas long enough to know that El had sat back in the booth. Her hair was a mess and her eyes fell, no longer full of the light that makes her who she is. "What happened?" Thomas asked, and Clara finally turned, her jaw slightly dropping.

"Oh my God, El." She slid out and sat next to her, wrapping an arm tightly around her shoulder, allowing El to rest her head on her. "You look terrible."

El rolled her eyes, sniffling and rubbing her nose after, "Thanks." She said, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "That is exactly what I need to hear right now." Clara glanced to see Thomas glaring at her before his eyes went back to El, completely soft as if all he wanted to do was hold her and let her know it would be okay. He had to have a crush on El. She was almost certain.

"I'm sorry." Clara pouted, stroking her hair, "Do you want to talk about it?"

El had her eyes closed and shook her head, "No." Her voice cracked on that one word alone, and she sniffled once again, "Just..." She paused, holding tightly around Clara's ribs, digging her head into her collarbone, "please don't tell the others. Especially Parker." Clara exchanged a look with Thomas, both of them thinking the same thing, Parker would kill us. "Please promise me. I just don't want him freaking out over nothing. Please." She was begging. They didn't have to see her face to know that. They could just hear it in her voice.

"We promise." Clara spoke for both of them, not taking her eyes off of Thomas as she hugged her back, "We won't tell them."

"You can count on us, El," Thomas added, trying to make her feel better, but afterward he knew it did nothing.

"Thank you." She spoke so softly, and the only one who heard her was Clara, but it didn't matter. What mattered was that Clara and Thomas had a secret, and it had to do with Parker's sister.

That was never a good combination.