I skip out on breakfast and go outside before my brothers. I need to be out in the cool air in order to stay awake. I fell asleep at three in the morning only to wake up three hours later. In short, I'm exhausted. What a way to start the week.

"You didn't eat?" Diego asks, surprising me. I turn around to see him resting against his motorcycle in the driveway. My eyes fall on the helmet under his arm.

"You're taking your motorcycle?" I ask, disregarding his question.

"You didn't answer my question," he answers instead.

"I can say the same about you," I respond as I approach him at a sloth-like pace. I fight off a yawn as I stare at him.

"Well, I think the answer to your question is pretty obvious," he replies as he looks at his bike.

"I had cereal," I reply, not bothering to tell him that I took two bites before putting it in the sink. I avert my gaze to the motorcycle a few feet away. "My mom's letting you drive it?" Not too long ago she was preaching to me about how unsafe motorcycles are.

"She said I could as long as I wear my helmet." The last part of his response sounds a bit mocking but I don't bother to comment on it. I stare at the helmet in his hand, wondering exactly how safe the bike is. When he sees my concerned grin, his eyes seem to light up. "Want to ride it with me?"

"What?" I gasp with wide eyes. Do I look crazy? I mean, I'm all for a little teenage rebellion but I'm not getting on that thing.

"Are you scared?" he taunts, leaning forward a bit. His eyes flit between both of mine and I stare into them, noting the excitement at the simple mention of something wild and reckless.

"No..." I lie and his smirk widens.

"Yes you are," he announces and I smell the mint from his breath. "It's not all that scary, you know, unless I try to ride as close to the edge of the cliffs as I can." He seems to get a kick out of the genuine fear that comes over my face. I can't help it. That's dangerous! "And sometimes...I try to see how I long I can go without using my hands." My voice is lost in my throat as he tips his head back and laughs.

"You don't actually do any of those things, right?" I assure quietly and he wears his usual smirk as he chuckles.

"Not often..." he trails and I'm pretty sure I look horrified.

I don't know what else to say as I watch him pull keys from his pocket. He mounts the bike, starts it, and rolls his eyes as he places the helmet on his head. Giving me a thumbs up, he pulls out of the driveway and disappears down the street as he gains speed.

In the car, my brothers discuss the game they'll be attending after school in excited voices. I'm sure that if our ride was longer than five minutes, I'd have gotten out and walked to school just to avoid listening to them babble happily. I manage to endure it though. Upon our arrival, I try to subtly look for the motorcycle that had left only moments before us.

"He's over there," Nate blurts from beside me and I look at my younger brother. Wearing a mischievous grin, he nods in the direction of a small collection of people. They're standing a few feet away from the school's entrance. There are two guys and one girl on either side of Diego. I scan them curiously.

The guy to his left is wearing black jeans and a grey t-shirt. I note the fact that he doesn't even have a sweater on even though it's particularly chilly for a September afternoon. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets as he bounces on his feet in a failed attempt to fight off the cold. His brown, curly hair flies in the wind as he laughs at something someone says. 

The girl standing next to the cold guy has long, platinum blonde hair. It reaches her waist and is tied back into a braid, reminding me of a delicate princess. She's wearing a sweater that's branded with the name of a band, and thick, black leggings. The combat boots on her feet give her an edgy princess-y look. She is pretty. I wonder who she is. 

The last guy, however, catches my gaze before I can even assess him. We lock eyes for a few seconds before the rest of Diego's friends begin to grow curious as to what's keeping his attention. Before I can look away, the tan boy himself turns around and quirks a brow at me as his familiar smirk makes its way onto his face. He waves and I nod sheepishly before falling in line beside Nate.

"Go say hi," Benji snorts from behind us and I glare at my youngest brother. "What? I'm sure you'll fit right in with the rebels. What do you think Nate?"

"I say go for it, goody two shoes," my other brother notes and I sigh in frustration before disappearing into the school.

+++

"Why don't you make out with him already?" Diana blurts from her place beside me. I hold the beaker in my hand as I squint through my goggles.

"Are you going to help at all?" I ask, ignoring her comment. All I'd said was, 'where is Diego? He's late to class,' and that was the response she gave me.

Pouring the liquid into the flask, I watch her tap away on her phone. "I can't risk spilling anything on this blouse," she mumbles. I mock her and she thumps me on the back of my head with her phone.

Though we were only ten minutes into our class, I feel that Diego won't bother showing up. He's probably catching up with his friends (who I haven't seen him converse with before) and couldn't be bothered to make an effort to attend class. I feel a bit disappointed that after a week or so of good behavior, three simple people can make him completely skip class altogether. I repress the urge to sigh as I begin gathering trash to throw out. 

"Can you at least take notes on the reaction?" I ask my friend, who sighs and heaves her feet off of the chair beside her so that she's sitting forward. As if I'd asked her to carry a boulder on her back for a year, she begins to write while uttering quiet complaints.

As I walk towards the trash can, I hear a knock on the door. I quickly drop my items into the bin before peeking through the small window beside the entrance. I'm surprised to find Diego standing there with a coffee in his hands. When we make eye contact, he furrows his eyebrows and I suddenly become aware of how nerdy I must look. I'm literally wearing goggles and an apron, not to mention the plastic gloves on my hands.

I open the door with a small amount of hesitation as I allow him to enter the classroom. "You look like...a scientist," he notes as he sips his drink and I look away, focusing my attention on closing the door.

"I guess I'm a chemist," I mumble in response. "You're late, by the way."

I turn to find him staring at me. "I know," he answers as if it isn't news to him. "I left to get a coffee when the first bell rang. I was too busy talking to my friends to go when I first arrived." I nod and the smirk appears on his face as he bobs his head up and down. "But you know that, right?"

I'm not quite sure how to answer so I avert my gaze to the board. "What do you mean?" I ask.

"You had a staring contest with Webster," he replies and I remember my awkward eye contact with the brown haired boy from this morning.

"Oh..." I mutter. "I didn't think too much of it."

"I didn't peg you for one to like short boys," he replies. "You know, given your height."

I narrow my eyes at him as I adjust my posture so that I'm standing up straight. "Who said anything about liking him?" I ask.

"No one. But I mean, you were staring pretty hard," he replies with his stupid smirk. He imitates me and widens his eyes, blinking rapidly as he stares into the distance. When he sees me roll my eyes, he laughs. "How about you actually come over and say hello next time and I'll introduce you? You definitely could associate yourself with more people."

I hesitate and before I can answer, Diana yells across the classroom for me. "Orion, it's spilling!" she calls. I look over to see a liquid pouring out of the flask I'd placed on the table. I guess I added too much chemicals. Before I can even make it to the table, the teacher is quickly placing the flask into the sink. Diego clicks his tongue as he looks at me, feigning an expression of judgment.

"Go get your experiment under control, Orion," he responds and I feel a shiver race down my spine as my name slips off his tongue. I can't help but like the way he says it.

+++

"He wants to introduce you to his friends!" Diana insists and I scoff as I look at her.

"Or maybe he wants to make a joke of me in front of them," I respond as I move around the food on my plate. I take a small bite of my fruit before putting it back down.

"He doesn't seem like that type of guy," my friend responds.

"I barely know him!" I retort. "I just know that his name is Diego. He drives a motorcycle. He likes coffee but hates working in a coffee shop. He doesn't like school. He likes sneaking out at night. He's a light sleeper."

"It sounds like you know some stuff about him," Diana replies with a shrug. "And none of it makes him sound like a jerk. Now if you were to say, he kicks puppies for fun then I probably would've been a bit hesitant."

"He actually likes dogs. He has one named Diablo; that means Devil in Spanish, Diana!" I reply and she snorts.

"My dog is named Pickles," she responds. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"You are a bad person," I mumble and she scoffs, kicking me beneath the table. "What if he genuinely thinks I like his friend?"

"I doubt he does. But just to be safe, tell him you don't," Diana notes. "And maybe let him know you're interested in a coffee loving, rebellious, motorcycle riding, hazel eyed boy." She winks at me, earning an eye roll in response. "So are you going to go along with meeting them?"

"I won't go out of my way to do it but if I happen to stumble upon them, I won't avoid it," I respond. "Good enough?"

Nodding happily, she grins. "Good enough."

As lunch comes to a close, I find myself heading towards my locker, where I begin exchanging my books for the second half of the day. "Look, it's my favorite housemate," a voice calls from the other end of the hallway. I stare into my locker before risking a glance only to find that it's Diego, just as I suspected. He leads the way with his friends in tow. "I'm talking about you, Orion."

"Hey..." I greet him quietly as he comes to a halt a few feet from my locker. Taking his usual stance, he leans against the metal cubicle beside mine and offers me a grin so large his eyes almost close. I can tell that he's up to something. Before I can ask what, he begins introducing me.

"Orion, these are my friends- Quincy, Sage, and Webster," he lists and I smile at each of them as he motions to them. Quincy nods at me, wearing the same knowing grin as his mates. Sage offers me a large smile, as if genuinely happy to be meeting me. Webster has a smirk as he looks at Diego and I find myself growing uncomfortable. It seems as if they've heard of me before but I haven't heard a single word about them.

"Hi..." I mumble awkwardly and Quincy seems to be assessing me.

"You're the girl that spends hours doing your homework?" he asks curiously and I shoot a glance at Diego, who shrugs.

"It's not everyday that you find someone so dedicated to their schoolwork," Diego explained. I imagine him hanging out with them at two in the morning, muttering about the crazy girl across the hall who traps herself in her room with her textbooks and actually enjoys it.

"That's me..." I mutter as I stare at the ground.

"You're much more shy than Diego made you seem. He said you wink at him and flirt with him ceaselessly," Webster blurts and Diego lets out a long laugh as my face reddens. I suddenly wish I'd taken off running at the sound of Diego's voice earlier.

"I think we all know who she was flirting with earlier," Diego notes with a wink at me and I feel my face redden even more than it already is. How embarrassing.

"Guys, leave her alone," Sage scolds them but she's obviously amused. She smiles at me and I wonder if her parents named her after her eye color. It's a beautiful light green shade with faint specks of gold. "It's nice to meet you, Orion."

"It's nice to meet you, too," I tell her.

The bell rings and I feel relief swell in my throat. However, the bell doesn't make any of them move in the slightest, all except for Diego. "Well, Ms. Good Girl here has a class to attend," Diego teases and I glare at him for the stupid nickname.

"I'm not a good girl," I respond in an attempt to sound fierce. I'm pretty sure I come off more like a house cat than a lion.

"Sure you aren't," Diego smirks at me and I glare at him, earning a laugh from Webster. "If you're not a good girl, then skip class." It isn't much of a challenge seeing as attendance isn't counted anyway but I still can use the extra time for my homework. In fact, I need the extra time for my homework or else I won't have time to complete it at all. As if reading the expression on my face, Diego grins. "You better hurry up or you'll be late."

I glare at him as his friends head towards the exit doors. I want to slap myself. There, right there, was my chance to do something rebellious, even something as small as skipping a class where attendance isn't counted. I sigh as Diego slowly backs up, slips outside, and waves at me before jogging to catch up with his friends. The late bell rings and I am left in a hallway five minutes from my class. With a small, quiet sigh, I begin heading in the direction of study hall, cursing myself for being such a nerd.

+++

Because of the stupid game, my brothers rush home, change, and leave not even ten minutes after arriving. My mom is home, though, and she's typing something on her computer when she greets me. "Hey, honey, how was school?"

"It was okay," I reply as I sit down across from her.

"Where's Diego?" she asks. "Do you know, by any chance?"

"No," I respond, receiving a sigh.

"That's why I didn't want him taking his motorcycle," she complains. "He'll go off the grid with that thing."

"Oh well." I shrug.

"How is he doing?" she asks me. "He doesn't do much talking around us but he seems to talk to you."

I shrug once again, still bothered by what happened earlier. I had a perfect chance to skip class! Maybe if I wasn't such a nerd... "He's fine..." I trail. I actually don't know how he is. I never really ask.

"Are you guys friends?" she asks and I raise and drop my shoulders again. With a quiet laugh, she nods. "You're definitely picking up on his habits."

"What are you talking about?" I reply.

"You're shrugging. Before, you'd give verbal answers but now you're talking with your shoulders," my mom smiles at me. Suddenly, I see a small twinkle in her eyes as she smiles at me. I know where this is going and I don't want it to get there, ever. She used to have that look on her face all the time last year whenever she had a friend who had a son around my age. That's the 'let's talk about boys' face. I haven't seen it very much lately, probably because my father's made it very clear that I'm not allowed to date after a distant, younger cousin of ours got pregnant. "You know, Diego isn't a bad looking boy, right?"

"I don't know," I mumble awkwardly. Of course he isn't mom. Anyone with eyes can see that.

"You don't think he's cute?" she asks me, earning yet another shrug in response. I should probably avoid using my shoulders so much but I feel as if it'd give her some form of satisfaction if I just stopped.

"Does it matter?" I reply.

"I'm just asking," she responds, putting her hands up.

"I guess he's okay," I lie. He's gorgeous. Even my mom sees it.

"Do you like any boys at school?" my mom asks and I want to high five myself. Good, she's off my trail...for now. "Or you know, just anyone?" That's my mom's way of subtly asking if I'm straight.

"I don't like anyone, mom," I reply. "I'm going to go upstairs and try to get as much homework done as possible." My mom gives me a sad smile before going back to her work on her computer. I sigh in relief as I slip up the stairs, shaking my head once I'm out of her view.

Diego doesn't bother coming home before work so when I go downstairs to get a ride from my mom, she's worried about our house guest. "Where is he? Can you text him?"

"I don't have his number," I tell my mom.

"I thought you two were friends," she retorts.

"We don't text," I tell her and she sighs. "He has his bike. He'll get to work if he really wants to." I don't want to be late so I lead the way outside.

When we arrive in the plaza, I'm happily surprised to find his motorcycle parked in the spot closest to the coffee shop. "See mom, he's here," I tell her, feeling a bit relieved. The last thing I need is him skipping work. That'll make Sue think I hang around the wrong crowd.

"Good," my mom smiles. "You're going to have to call Calum for a ride home because I have to work."

"Alright," I answer as I get out of the car.

Immediately upon my arrival to the book store, I see Diana conversing with Diego and my eyes immediately widen. What could they possibly be talking about? I jog towards the counter, listening in on their conversation. "Yeah, he's two years old," Diego replies, showing her a picture on his phone.

"How cute! Pickles is five," Diana responds, scrolling through her phone before pulling up a picture of her vanilla colored Pomeranian. I want to sigh in relief. So they aren't talking about me...

"I see you two have met," I greet them as I walk behind the counter, doing my daily routine of clocking in and checking the schedule. Register. I want to swear. Great.

"Yeah, I figure since you've met my friends, I might as well speak to yours," he replies and I want to scoff. He said it like there's more than one.

"Well, I'm sure you guys had a good time meeting each other but you've got to get to work," I say to Diego, who rolls his eyes at me.

"I'll go when I feel like it," he responds as he pulls himself onto the counter.

"I've got to go man the shelves," Diana smiles politely before turning towards the books.

"I can see why you two are friends," Diego tells me and I stare at him in confusion.

"What?" I ask.

"You guys are kind of similar," he replies and I take it as a compliment.

"In what ways?" I ask him. Diana is the complete opposite of me. She's loud and says what's on her mind while I sulk in the shadows and keep my thoughts to myself. She's nowhere near as studious as I am, not to say she's not smart. She just settles for grades less than what she's capable of. She's also able to get almost any guy but she chooses not to. I, on the other hand, don't have much of a choice.

"You guys just talk the same and have similar responses," he responds and I make a note to listen to what Diana says. Maybe I'll figure out what it's like to have a conversation with myself. "Except, you know, you blush a lot more and you don't swear nearly as much as her. Come to think of it, I've never heard you swear."

"I don't," I tell him honestly.

"What? You're a teenager. How do you not swear?" he asks me, earning a shrug in response. I faintly recall my mother's words from earlier. So maybe I am picking up on his mannerisms.

"I don't know. I just don't," I respond.

"Swear," he pleads and I narrow my eyes at him. He's grinning as he stares at me. "Come on. You know you want to."

"No..." I mumble.

"Any word, except damn and hell. Those don't count," he clarifies as he looks at me excitedly. I shake my head and he continues to plead, only stopping when I remind him of the time. "You're literally the epitome of innocence, Orion."

"You tell me that practically every day," I remind him.

"Only because it's true." With that, he turns on his heel and leaves the book store. I'm left staring after him, wondering what goes on in his mind.

+++

Standing outside in the cool air, I find myself fretting. My phone is in my grip and I stare at my messages expectantly. "No one can pick me up," I complain to Diana.

The door to the bakery opens and Diego exits, pulling off his apron and shoving it into his sweater pocket. He stares at me curiously, quirking an eyebrow. "I expected you to leave a half hour ago," he blurts and I sigh.

"I don't have a ride home," I admit as he wipes himself off, examining his healing burns.

"I can give you a ride home," he blurts. He's now looking up and smirking at me. "Unless you're scared."

I have the urge to prove to him that I'm not a good girl. I can do something bad...something rebellious. Here's another chance! I've just got to grow some balls and take it. I muster up all of the courage I can and give him a nod. "Okay, thank you." He stares at me with a look of shock on his face before he slowly grins.

"Really?" he asks and I nod.

"Yeah, I have to get home somehow," I tell him to convince not only him but myself. My heart is hammering in my chest at the idea of having to ride on that death machine. He slowly nods before plucking his phone from his pocket.

"I'm ready whenever you are," Diego responds and Diana grabs my arm, moving me a few feet away from the boy leaning against the brick wall of the coffee shop.

"You're really going through with this?" she asks quietly and I rub my hands against my jeans as I nod quickly.

"Yeah, I mean, what's the worst that can happen? He's licensed-," I immediately stop speaking when I realize that I've never seen his license. Quickly looking over at him, I raise my voice. "Diego!"

"What?" he mumbles as his fingers work quickly against the screen of his phone.

"You have your license, right?" I ask, earning a nod in response. "To drive the motorcycle?" He nods yet again. "With other people?" I proceed, earning yet another nod. I sigh, slightly relieved. Returning to my hushed conversation with Diana, I nod again. "See? He's legally able to drive. He knows what he's doing..."

I find my hands sweating and shaking as I stare at Diana. Not only is it a terrifying idea to ride on the back of a motorbike with a guy I'm not sure I can trust; it's the fact that I'd be going against both of my parents in doing it. "You'll be fine," Diana whispers. "Just hold on to him really tight."

I glare at my friend as I pull on the strings of my sweater. "I'll see you tomorrow you know, if I live," I retort loud enough for Diego to hear. I make a scene of dramatically hugging my friend, telling her that I love her dearly.

"I like to think I'm a good driver," Diego notes as he starts across the lot with me in tow. He approaches the motorcycle and hands me the helmet, which I hadn't even noticed. "You're going to have to wear this."

"What are you going to wear?" I ask and he smirks before shaking his head and I purse my lips. "Shouldn't you wear the helmet?"

"Shouldn't you lay off the complaining seeing as you're so scared of my driving?" he asks mockingly and I roll my eyes and shove my head into the practically new helmet. I can tell that he hasn't worn it often. After a few seconds of me struggling to put it on right, his warm hands brush against my chin and he adjusts the straps. I see him through the tinted front as he secures it for me and I thank him but it comes out muffled. He gets on the bike and starts it up while I stand there, unsure of what to do. "Aren't you going to get on?"

"Now?" I ask him.

"No, next week," he answers. "Of course, now."

"But..." I trail and he sighs as he stares at me.

"Any day now..." he retorts. I hesitate as I lift my leg and place it on the other side of the bike. I allow my butt to touch the seat and I feel myself slide so that I'm touching Diego. I immediately grow uncomfortable and go to move back but he keeps me from doing so by speaking. "Now put your arms around my waist." He revs the bike up after a few seconds of me just sitting there. "Fine, you'll just fall off then."

I lift my arms and loosely drape them around his waist, feeling my face redden beneath the helmet. I hate my life. You'd think this would be more enjoyable, you know, holding a cute guy around the waist as you take a ride on his motorcycle with him but because I'm awkward and uncomfortable, it's an embarrassing experience. He grabs my wrists and yanks my arms forward so that I'm pressing flush against his hard back. He fixes my arms so they're wrapped tightly around him and I'm sure that a fire is going to start inside the helmet from the heat radiating off of my skin.

"I can't believe you're letting me do this," he says in pure amusement as we pull out of the lot.

I don't think much during the ride except for what I have to lose if I just let go and allow myself to fall from the speeding motorcycle. I mean, if it means not having to deal with the situation that will take place when we have to get off of the stupid bike at my house then I think it's worth it. I feel the heat from his body and it is definitely one of the better aspects of the ride, that and the fact that I'm able to feel his back. It's also quite enjoyable to actually feel the wind whipping my hair around and hitting my skin. But I'm sure he feels my heart hammering in my chest and sees my hands repeatedly clenching in a series of attempts to rid them of sweat.

A short while later, we pull into the driveway and I have the urge to run into the house and hide in my closet until graduation. That, however, is not an option. He gets off the bike after turning it off. I slide off the seat and once I'm standing, I turn to walk towards the house as inconspicuously as I can. "Oh no, you don't," he says as he reaches out and grabs my hand. He pulls me back so that I'm standing a few inches away from him and goes to work unbuckling the helmet. My face feels as hot as an oven as I stare up at him through the tinted visor. I'm still red-faced from my previous thoughts of how nice his back feels and how warm he is and staring up into his forest of lashes isn't helping. 

I attempt to shift backwards to make things more difficult for him and to buy myself some time. Instead, he places one hand behind my head in a light but firm motion and uses the other to undo the buckle. He slides his hands along the bottom of the helmet, lightly brushing my skin in a way that causes goosebumps to travel down my body. He shimmies the helmet off of me and leaves me standing there with hat hair and a bright red face. He scans my face and tilts his head back in a loud chuckle.

"Why are you so red?" he asks as I cover my face with my hands and turn to walk towards the house. I struggle to get my key from my pocket as I storm up the steps. "Were you blushing?"

I ignore him but leave the door unlocked so he can get in behind me. in. I immediately freeze when I see his dog laying on the floor of the living room. Once I acknowledge Diablo, he stands up and begins walking towards me. I advance in the directions of the stairs, only to find him following me. I don't even attempt to tell him to stay, not only because I don't know Spanish, but I'm sure he'd hear the fear in my voice if he doesn't smell it on me already. The front door opens and Diablo immediately turns around, bounding towards Diego excitedly. I let out a sigh of relief before jogging upstairs, disappearing into my room.

A half hour later, a knock sounds on my door and I sigh, telling Diego to come in. "I was wondering if you want to take a walk with me," Diego speaks and my eyebrows shoot upward before I can help myself. I quickly adjust them and if he notices, he doesn't say anything.

"Okay..." I reply after a moment of thought. I grab my shoes from the area in front of my bed and begin pulling them on. I yank the hoodie over my torso before opening the door more. I see Diablo standing there with his tail wagging quickly and I immediately look at Diego. "Are you serious?"

"Come on. I want you to at least become friendly with him," he expresses. "So you don't have to be scared of him."

"It's not even a matter of me being scared around him. I'm allergic to him," I respond and Diego shakes his head.

"I won't let him jump on you. You just have to pet him a little bit and then you can just wash your hands," Diego explains. "Besides, I just brushed him so it shouldn't be that bad."

"Diego..." I trail as I stare at the German Shepherd pacing around outside of my room.

"It'll only be a few minutes," Diego responds. "You're already dressed and everything."

I let out a sigh as I exit my room, shutting the door behind me. I let Diego lead the way down the steps with Diablo racing towards the door. I follow them out of the house, closing the door as we leave. As we walk down the street, I find myself growing more and more curious as I think about the boy standing beside me. Deciding to repeat the same question I'd asked not too long ago, I glance at him, trying to think of a way to get onto the topic.

"What?" Diego asks after a few moments. I kept continuously glancing at him in hopes of getting an idea. Or maybe I just like how he looks in the dim lighting of the streetlamps. Or maybe both.

Swallowing nervously and shoving my hands in my pockets, I look at Diablo as he lifts his leg to pee on a tree. "Where do you go?" I question, allowing my eyes to tour the neighborhood. Houses, houses, houses... There aren't many places to escape to. Trust me, I've looked.

He looks at me with an unreadable expression on his face. "Why don't you find out?" he proposes.

"What? You mean, like go with you?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows again.

"That's the only way you'll find out," he responds as he tugs Diablo's leash. The dog is smelling at a neighbors garden, potentially breaking flowers with his nose.

"Why don't you just tell me?" I reply as I stare at him. He looks back at me and I gaze into his hazel eyes before immediately looking away. I feel insecure whenever we hold eye contact for more than a few seconds.

"Where's the fun in that?" he asks in amusement. Glancing at him, I note that he's now staring at the cement path we're following with Diablo bounding ahead of us. He looks at me with slightly narrowed eyes. "Why are you so curious, anyway?"

"Well...I mean, if anything happens to you and we have to send out a search team, I'll know where to send them," I reply and he laughs as he looks up at the sky.

"I'm not going to get lost or kidnapped," he starts. "I'm 6'1" and I weigh well over what a kidnapper would be capable of lifting. And as far as crime goes, there isn't much that goes on without me knowing about it."

I ignore the latter part of his explanation, not wanting to worry about him doing anything illegal. "It's just good to have someone know where you are," I mutter.

"Are you worried about me or something?" he asks and I scoff.

"I just don't want you to, like, die or something and I'm the only one that knew you went out at night but I didn't tell anyone," I respond.

"You're a really bad liar," he retorts. "And if that was the case, which it won't be, it's not like you could've done anything to stop me from sneaking out."

"Why won't you just tell me?" I ask and he laughs.

"Why are you so worried about me?" he replies.

"I'm not!" I retort in annoyance even though I know what I'm saying is a lie. I guess I worry about him a little bit, but only because I feel like it's my job to keep him on the right track and so far, I think I've been doing pretty okay. Well, except for the whole sneaking out at night thing.

"Like I said before, you're a really bad liar."

+++

"Come on, just pet him," Diego insists and I cross my arms.

"What if he bites me?" I ask.

"He won't," Diego says confidently.

"What if he does? What's your plan to make him stop?" I ask Diego, who sighs and shrugs.

"I guess I'll pull him off of you," Diego responds.

"You guess? So there's a chance you'll just sit there and watch?" I retort in bewilderment.

"If you keep this up, then yes," he responds impatiently.

I sigh, giving up. I slowly reach down, allowing the dog to sniff my hand a few times before reaching back and lightly touching his head. "There."

"You just tapped his head!" Diego replies. "That's like expecting a kiss and only getting a peck."

"I wouldn't know..." I mumble. He laughs at me and I narrow my eyes. "Neither would you."

He rolls his eyes and points to Diablo. "Pet him."

"Can't we just go inside? It's getting cold," I mutter. He's standing in front of the door and refusing to move until I pet his dog.

"Not until you pet Diablo," he retorts. "It's only going to get colder."

I sigh yet again and return my hand to the black German Shepherd's head, allowing my fingers to lightly tangle in his fur as I scuff up the hair behind his ear. He wags his tail as he rubs against my leg and I move my hand. "There? Happy? Now I'm going to have to get his hair off of my pants."

"You'll live," Diego retorts as he opens the front door of the house, allowing the dog to run in. We follow and I lead the way upstairs, heading towards my room. I turn to close the door and am surprised when I come face to chest with Diego, who was apparently following me.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Coming to hang out," he responds casually and I look down at my pants.

"I kind of have to change," I reply.

"I can look away," he retorts before wiggling his brows, "unless you don't want me to."

Fighting off a blush, I begin pushing him out of my room. "Give me a minute."

I close the door and go to my dresser, grabbing a pair of sweatpants. I remove my jeans and put them beside the door. I also decide to change my shirt, yanking it off and searching for a new one. "A minute is up!"

"Give me another minute," I retort as I look through my shirts. I decide on an orange one that Nate gave me from a hockey team he was on last year. "Come in."

The door swings open and Diego peeks his head in, assessing the shirt. "You played hockey?" he asks.

"No," I snort. "Nate did."

He nods, leaving the door open halfway as he slumps down on my bed. Extending so that he's actually laying down, he sighs. I stare at him before sitting down in my desk chair. Without hesitation, he lifts up my phone. "You don't have a pass code?" he asks as he begins to go through it.

"What are you doing?" I ask. I mean, it's not like I have anything to hide but Diana and I definitely have had more than one conversation about him. If he travels back far enough in our conversations, he'll stumble upon one thing or another.

"What are you trying to hide?" he asks with a smirk.

"Nothing, I just don't need you going through my stuff," I respond and he grins at me.

"I wonder what you're hiding, Orion," he says. "Is it in your pictures?" The only thing in my camera roll are pictures of assignments, funny screenshots, and any selfies that Diana took. "Your internet history?" he probes, waiting for a reaction. Recently, all I've looked up are definitions for my homework. "Your messages?" I shift slightly. I haven't checked them since earlier. What if Diana said something about him? She'd be the one to send something like 'how'd his back feel?' or some unnecessary comment.

I get up to retrieve my phone from him but he shifts so that he has his back against the wall and his foot out to stop me from making any quick movements. "Who's Aaron?" he asks, looking up at me with raised eyebrows. "And why is he asking if you want to go over and study? Look, he even offered to pick you up. I thought you said you don't talk to boys. This Aaron fellow definitely has an interest in you."

"That's my cousin," I retort, reaching out to grab my phone from him. He turns it off and lets it rest on his stomach. I decide to leave it there. "We both take AP Stats and AP Calculus, so we study together from time to time."

"Oh..." he retorts. "I thought I'd just stumbled upon some juicy gossip."

"Since you went through my phone, let me go through yours," I insist feeling slightly hesitant. Do I want to? A little bit. But what if I see something I don't want to see? Would I be able to control my reaction?

He looks at me and laughs. "You're not ready for that," he replies with a grin on his face.

"It's only fair," I tell him.

"Can I delete some stuff first?" he asks me with a quirked brow. I scoff and shake my head.

"No," I retort with a slow head shake.

"Okay..." he trails. "Just...don't look at the group chat with my friends."

"Why not?" I ask curiously and he narrows his eyes at me.

"Just don't," he retorts as he unlocks his phone. He hesitates as he hands it to me. I reach out to grab it and he pulls it back. "And don't text anyone." I nod, holding my hand out. "And you might want to avoid my gallery- just saying."

I take his phone and stare at it. I didn't think I'd actually get a chance to look through it. I mean, of course I've thought about it. He's on it so often that it makes me wonder what could possibly be up there. I go to his contacts, looking through the names. As I reach the letter E, I'm surprised at how short the list is. Given, it was longer than mine but for some reason, I expected it to take me twenty minutes to scroll through the list. There are about forty contacts in here, which is basically double mine. I contemplate making myself a contact but decided against it. He'd see me typing and ask what I was doing and I don't feel like dealing with that awkward encounter. I decide to go to his messages. Respecting his wishes to not go through his friend's group chat, I merely scroll along his text log. A few of his messages have not yet been read. His phone vibrates in my hands and a notification from the group chat appears.

"You got a text," I tell him as I look up, only to find him looking through my phone and smirking.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Nothing," he replies. "Who's the text from?"

"Your friends," I tell him.

"Are you looking through my messages?" I ask, growing anxious. What if he sees something I said to Diana? Or vice versa? I definitely should come up for a code name for him.

"No," he replies. A couple of seconds later, he reaches out for his phone. I hand it to him, getting my phone back in return. I immediately open it, looking through it to see what he could've possibly been doing. I roll my eyes when I see that he'd been looking at his social media from my account and that he'd followed himself.

"Are you at least going to follow me back?" I ask him and he shrugs.

"If I feel like it," he admits with a grin and I roll my eyes. "I can give you Webster's number, by the way."

"I think I'll pass," I retort with narrowed eyes.

"You sure?" he asks. "I'm sure he'd be glad to get a text from you."

"Shut up," I snap.

"The sass," he responds. "So who's cuter- Quincy or Webster?"

"Why does it matter?" I ask him in annoyance.

"Are you going to answer it?" he asks.

"So you can run off and tell them? No," I respond.

"I won't. I promise," he replies, rolling onto his stomach as he stares at me. He has my stuffed Tiger between his arms as he waits for my answer in anticipation.

"Still not going to answer it," I retort.

"Webster, right?" he asks.

"No," I groan.

"Then it's Quincy," he guesses.

"No! It's neither!" I snap.

"What do you like in guys? Maybe that'll help you decide since you clearly don't care about appearance," he responds.

"Are we really doing this?" I bark with a flat look on my face. He stares at me, waiting for my answer. I stare back, giving up after two minutes of uncomfortable, yet oddly patient, staring. "I don't know. He has to be smart. He's got to care about school. He has to have dreams. Being funny is a plus. Being cute also doesn't hurt, nor does liking books."

He furrows his eyebrows as an odd look flits across his face. He quickly composes himself and manages to provide a witty response all in the span of five seconds. "So, basically, what you're saying is that you like nerds," he sums up.

Rolling my eyes, I nod. "Sure."

"Unfortunately, I do not know any nerds, aside from you of course, so I won't be of any help on your quest for love, but I can assist you when you do find the nerd that you set your sights on," he informs me and my face reddens.

"Can we, like, not talk about this?" I ask, running my hands down my face.

The sound of the front door opening travels upstairs and into my bedroom. I look at Diego, who is already getting up. "I'll do what I can and ask around for any nerds looking for love, but don't get your hopes up. Not many of my associates converse with nerds."

"Just get out of my room," I groan as I put my head on my desk.