I had hit an all-time low; reached peak levels of pathetic. Furiously stabbing my fork into my bowl of strawberries, I was very much aware of my painfully obvious pining. Still... I didn't tear my gaze away from the kitchen patio's window. Sat in my old, holey pyjamas, morning hair its usual mess, it took a ridiculous amount of time to finish my breakfast. My current, unkept state did nothing to boost my ego as I fixed an intense gaze on the outside beauty.

     Tiredly descending the stairs that morning, I fell into one of the wooden kitchen chairs, fatigue vanishing as soon as my suddenly wide eyes fell on Grayson. Always up at the crack of dawn, while I could be compared to a zombie, Grayson was wide awake and working out in the backyard. It was quite a sight to see. I didn't think I'd ever get over the shame if he caught me staring, but I couldn't tear my gaze away. I did mention pathetic, right?

     Removing his damp gray shirt as he fell into another set of push-ups, I groaned loudly and let my head smack against the kitchen table. What had I done to deserve this? Just when I thought I had suffered enough, I had to be thrown a tragic, never to exist, love story. I felt as though Willow had promised me another batch of pecan tassies, baked them in front of me and then placed them in a locked, glass box. I could smell and admire the perfectly baked tassies, but not taste them. And rather than being angry with Willow for showing me something I couldn't have; I was angry with myself for wanting the damn tassies so badly.

     "You look properly miserable," Claire commented, taking a seat next to me.

     Sipping her coffee, blue eyes shone mischievously. Considering I spent so much time with her oblivious son, it always surprised me that she was an exceptionally perceptive person. Though truthfully, not much perception was required to recognise my predicament. Any more obvious, and I'd be drooling at the sight of him. I wiped the corner of my mouth just to be safe.

     "I am no more miserable than usual," I lied. "It's a beautiful day, I'm just not a morning person."

     "It's beautiful outside, isn't it?" She made no move to hide the insinuations in her tone.

     "You're not very nice," I complained.

     "And you're not very subtle."

     Cheeks growing pink, I shot her an accusing look. She remained as amused.

     "Come on, Claire," I whined, drawing out her name. "You were so good to me. I really liked you, but now it seems you're as much of a pain as your son."

     Very softly she laughed. "But you far from dislike my son."

     "Touché," I muttered, embarrassed gaze involuntarily returning to the patio door. "But I'd really rather not have this chat." Especially not with her.

     Claire nodded, attention turned to her toast, but her barely noticeable smirk told me she wasn't done. It was the same up to no good smile, Grayson always wore.

     "I see you're as resentful of your feelings as you were then."

     "Damn." I dropped my fork with an exasperated sigh. I knew it. I was falling back into my old ways. Of course, I had had a crush on him.

     "Luckily he's as oblivious as I'm assuming he was then." I stared at my plate.

     "Even more so," she snorted. "I'm sorry he's so dense. I really don't understand how he could possibly still not have a clue."

     I felt so much better now that I knew the extent of my obvious feelings (please note the sarcasm). Claire made it sound as if Alexa likes Grayson was a reoccurring message blasted during morning school announcements.

     "Especially when his own mother is blatantly voicing her suspicions." I fixed her a pointed gaze.

     "Ah." She coughed, smirk transforming into a remorseful smile. "You heard that."

     "I did. And I've got to say that it felt like quite the betrayal."

     Pale lips twitching into a smile, she rolled her eyes. "Only trying to help."

     "Please don't," I said, voice suddenly urgent. If she shared any of her son's determination, I greatly feared her meddling.

     "But you said it yourself," she complained, lips puckered in a pout that held such a resemblance to Grayson that I nearly laughed. "He's oblivious and it certainly seems like you aren't going to make a move anytime soon. At this rate, he'll never find out of his own."

     "That's the point."

     "But—"

     "No." I stopped her, knowing what she was going to say. This was beginning to sound like a weekly conversation I had with Katie. "Don't even say it."

     Blond brows furrowing, she studied me curiously.

     "You've got to be kidding!" she finally exclaimed.

     Shooting a panicked glance outside, I found Grayson in another set of push-ups and relaxed. I'd evaporate in a cloud of misery and shame if he overheard this conversation. Thank God he didn't share my eavesdropping habits.

     "We're meant to be friends," I defended, face hot.

     "But that's not what you want."

     "Yes, it is. I'm just confused. This phase will pass, and then I'll want what he does; a friendship."

     Claire snorted wryly. She shook her head in a mixture of amusement and loss of hope.

     "He said so himself," I preserved, acutely aware of my defensive and child-like tone.

     "So hopeless..." she muttered, head in her hands.

     I'm not sure why I was suddenly comfortable speaking of this with her, but I continued to ramble. I needed her to understand my rationalization.

     "He's even made a big point of proving that we could kiss, and nothing would change. It was no big deal then, it's no big deal now." I quoted.

     "No big deal?" she exclaimed. "I never heard the end of that dared kiss, and don't get me started on that time on the swing... It was endless mention of your name for the entirety of your birthday weekend."

     "Swing?" I asked cautiously. "Birthday weekend?"

     She couldn't mean the gallery weekend...

     "Not my story to tell."

     "But—" I tried, anxiously wanting more details.

     There would be no more kissing. I couldn't handle it. Claire's silence on the matter would mess with my head. Every time I would come to face a swing set in the future, I'd fear it would be the moment I lost all control and Grayson would discover the truth.

     "My point is: yes, Grayson can be an idiot," Claire started again. "He's not always wise with his words, but you are more of a fool than he if you actually believe the no big deal or just friends lie."

     Face still a deep shade of red, I didn't know what to say. I was running out of ways to say you're wrong.

     "Alexa," Claire started, tone considerable softening. "You know he had a crush on you as a child. What makes you think that suddenly changed? Do you really think your disappearance completely erased his feelings rather than intensified them?"

     Heart suddenly racing, I fixed her an intense gaze. She couldn't be right. She seemed so convinced, but... It was crazy. She may have known him best, but I was certain that I hadn't read him wrong. He had very clearly worded his intentions for the Calendar. There was no misinterpreting his specific declaration of a desire for a friendship.

     "He's got it bad," Calvin agreed from the living room. Claire grinned at his response.

     "Not you too!" I accused, huffing indignantly.

     "Sorry, dear. But Claire is absolutely right." I could picture him smiling from the couch. "Make a move. I fully intend on walking you down the aisle, someday."

     Shrinking in my seat, my face grew impossibly redder.

     "Towards Grayson of course," he felt the need to clarify. "Not some random guy."

     "I got that," I replied curtly, still hiding my face in my hands. "I appreciate the pep talk, but you're both wrong." And did they not understand the awkwardness of talking about a crush with your crush's parents?

     Claire and Calvin laughed.

     "Isn't it more reasonable to think that you're wrong, rather than the both of us?" Calvin asked.

     "No," I mumbled feebly. "You're bias."

     Claire nodded her head. "We just want him to be happy," she agreed. "And his best chance to be happy is with you."

     "Stop," I complained, wiping my clammy palms against my pyjama pants. This wasn't fair of them. "You're messing with my head."

     "Good." Claire smiled, dumping her mug in the sink. "I only need one of you to come to their senses. My bet is on you."

     Suddenly a clumsy mess as her wish was made painfully clear, I lost the ability to speak. Like a fish gasping for air, my lips parted soundlessly. She was expecting me to confess. No chance. Laughing, Claire returned her mug to the cabinet.

     On her way out of the kitchen, she paused behind my chair and leaned in close to my ear. "In Grayson's defence, you are just as oblivious as he is."

     Mouth falling open in indignance, I had no time to respond. The patio door swung open, and I nearly fell off my chair. Thankfully, Grayson's shirt had returned on his body, giving me a better chance at composing myself. Sly smile as he prepared to greet me with a joke, he took notice of my dishevelled, flushed state and frowned.

     "You, alright?"

     "Fine!" I barked; word spoken so quickly that he had to know it was a lie.

     Gaze fixed downward, I stabbed at my still half-full bowl of strawberries, acutely aware that he was studying me curiously. Through the corner of my eye, I saw him tense as his gaze fell on his mother who had just fully disappeared into the living room. Face struck with horrified realization; Grayson laughed nervously.

     "My mother has the tendency to think she knows people better than they know themselves. Don't worry about her— Did you sleep okay?" he spoke hurriedly.

     He turned to make a smoothie, purposely hiding his face.

     He changed the subject so fast that instantly I was overcome with alarm. He knew. He knew and he desperately wanted to talk about anything but Claire's correct assumption of my feelings. Maybe he wasn't as oblivious as we thought him to be. Maybe he had been feigning cluelessness to spare my feelings. Damn Claire and Calvin for getting my hopes up, and damn Grayson for being so... Grayson. If I discovered that he did in fact know and still he was continuing these playful games that were unintentionally leading me on, I was going to kill him.

     "Alexa?"

     "What?"

     "Do you. Want. To go. Throw. Some hoops. With me?" he repeated slowly, face furrowed in concern.

     Throw some hoops? God, I was deeper in the friendzone than I had believed. I wasn't a potential object of affection. I was just Alex. He spoke to me the same way Jack and Luke spoke to each other; the way you'd talk to a bro. If he started their cheesy chest bump thing with me, I was officially going to lose my mind.

     "You still haven't given me an answer..." Grayson pointed out carefully.

     I shook off the chagrin of my immensely depressing realization. I wasn't only friend-zoned, I was bro-zoned. "Exercise?" I asked, nose crinkled in displeasure.

     Concern vanishing, Grayson laughed. "Would that really be so bad?"

     "I'll be ready in an hour," I sighed, letting my head fall to the table. "So, confused," I mumbled, no care that Grayson was sat few feet away from me. If he thought my behavior strange, he didn't mention it.

     When Claire and Calvin caught us outside hours later, still shooting hoops, I sent them a pointed look. I hoped they got the message: I would soon come to my senses and when these feelings resolved, there would be no making of moves as they suggested.