This was a whole new kind of tension, and I was not enjoying it in the slightest bit. Following the memory in the rain, Grayson had become considerably less tense. His ease in turn comforted me... At least, for a few days. Naturally, as if to spite me, the tension slowly returned. And this time it was much worse. So much worse. Immensely intensified and seeming to only affect me, it was driving me mad. Driving me mad, because while the past tension had rooted from the desire to return my memory before the end of the 248 days, this tension was an entirely different kind of desire. A desire of which I remained bitter.

     Grayson was his usual carefree self, conveniently relaxed and confident now that he had received proof that all his planning could be successful. He had no clue that I was slowly losing my self-control. I didn't know how much longer I could keep my lips from voicing my thoughts. I was so darn close to hitting him upside the head, confessing my feelings and suffering the embarrassing repercussions. Anything was better than this.

     It brought me shame and anger, but every moment that I had so much as a sliver of hope that he felt the same, I could barely restrain from throwing myself at him. He was so easy to want. But I was not, and that was the problem. How could I build the urge to tell him the truth when I was so convinced that doing so would only bring me devastation? The situation was hopeless. Why would anyone want a sarcastic grump who's been damaged? It was those rational thoughts that saved our friendship. In times that I completely lost myself in my feelings for Grayson, mind incapable of thinking of anything other than the gleam in his eyes, care of his touch and melody in his laughter, the appearance of these rational reminders, reminders that Grayson sought nothing more than a friendship stopped me from going through with what I would surely regret.

     Many times, I considered getting the humiliation over with. I was convinced my mouth would soon unwillingly betray me, anyways. If I admitted it now, maybe we would hold a chance of moving on. As much as I feared speaking my truth, the thought of never speaking it frightened me more. The inevitable rejection would be painful, but in the end, it would hurt less than holding onto false hope and forever being haunted by what ifs? Confessing made sense. My brain concluded that it was the best move... But my pride said, to hell with that! My pride told me it was better to suffer in silence. This internal fight within myself was causing the tension. Part of me wished for the opportunity to once again completely lose myself in him and allow the confession to spill free. But another, very prominent, part of me was overcome with terror at the idea of losing the fight and letting my mind feel and think freely.

     I was spinning out of control.

     Only two days ago, I had almost blurted the truth out of frustration. Sticking to Grayson's plans for a weekly family game night, we had chosen to play Monopoly with his parents. I had enjoyed myself. I laughed and chatted easily with the three, but the tension was there. Every time our thighs would brush when he got excited and leaned over the table to move his spawn, every time his eyes shimmered when someone landed on his property, the tension was there. Claire and Calvin noticed it. That day at school my friends noticed it too. Everyone noticed it, except for the moron himself! Claire had even made a sly remark about it, during the game. But Grayson remained as clueless. It became painfully clear that I would literally have to spell it out for him. Already tense and recent roll of the dice landing me on a property that would cause me the game, I was so infuriated that I was tempted to let myself speak freely. I very nearly met his dumbfounded look with, because I like you! You great, big idiot! But, once again, my pride stopped me. I settled for only speaking the idiot part of my thoughts.

     Today was no different.

     The sun was getting to me... It wasn't my fault that Grayson looked so good. Skin exposed as he wore only light blue swim shorts, he glowed under the hot sun. His shorts were the same blue of his eyes and that made his gaze that much more captivating. When I did find myself capable of tearing my attention away from his bare chest, I was instead fixed on his eyes. He was unfairly handsome and watching him prepare to enter the pool, I was very reluctant to remove my own clothing. I didn't want to stand next to him when he looked like that. I felt like and unstitched, rag doll on a shelf next to the newest Ken doll.

     When he had suggested a day at the pool, I declared it one of his best ideas yet. Grayson had convinced Luke to lend us his backyard, allowing for the use of his inground pool. Though I thought it strange to use someone else's yard, especially when they were home, still I managed to let Grayson convince me that we would have a great day. I envisioned hours spent in the sun, laying in a lounge chair or pool blow-up, translucent skin perhaps finally darkening. It was easy to imagine how I'd enjoy myself. I was naïve to think that Grayson wouldn't have planned otherwise. Listing the many water games that he had planned and requesting my help in applying sunscreen, I was suddenly certain that I would be facing an afternoon of misery. I scoffed at his request, very much determined to let both our backs burn. I would rather look like a lobster tomorrow than touch him... Truthfully, touching him wasn't the problem. To my chagrin, I had too often fantasized about his skin, preferably against mine. The problem was my potential revealing reaction. I didn't want lingering fingers or hitched breaths to break my cover. But... my refusal would create even greater suspicion. I was damned either way.

     "Give me the bottle," I finally snapped.

     The bright smile that had been painted on his face since he had woken me early that morning, momentarily flickered. Thick brows shooting his hairline, he looked at me as though I was being unreasonable. He had every right.

     "If it's that big of a deal, I'll go ask Luke."

     "It's fine," I said, terse tone probably saying otherwise. "It's no big deal," I added sourly.

     His crazed, uncertain look remained. Making no move to hand me the sunscreen bottle, I stole it from his grasp, roughly turning him around. I'm sure he regretted asking me. In hopes to minimize the touching, to minimize the time in which I could potentially ruin our friendship, I aggressively splattered the cream across his back. More of a slapping and pushy motion rather than the rubbing, expected kind, Grayson puffed indignantly. Finishing quickly, I attempted to nonchalantly rub my greasy hands against my thighs. I wasn't surprised by the incredulous look when he turned around, I expected it. Affronted bewilderment displayed on his face; his thoughts were clear: what the hell was that?

     I didn't respond to his demanding look. I didn't need to give him anymore reasons to question me.

     I should have said something. At least if he was questioning me, he would be too distracted, mind too busy for witty responses. My silence allowed for his frown to transform into a sly smirk.

     "I should have known that you'd like it rough." He grinned; head cocked cunningly.

     I could do nothing to stop the furious blush. Huffing indignantly, I spluttered for many moments, before practically throwing the bottle at him.

     "Just shut up and do me!" I finally managed through gritted teeth.

     Grayson's cocked brow making me rethink my words, my face became impossibly redder. My face was permanently red these days. I should have chosen my words better. I didn't even try to correct myself. I didn't dare take the chance of letting my words further embarrass me. Instead, I fixed him my most intense, dissatisfied glare. Grayson grimaced, but the amused sparkle dancing around his irises never disappeared as he turned me around.

     He was a lot gentler than I was. He wasn't in a rush, carefully assuring that he didn't miss a spot. His soft touch did nothing to ease my long, conflicted thoughts. It took every ounce of self-restraints to refrain from leaning into his touch. I don't know how he couldn't have noticed the tension in my shoulders, but I was so frustrated that I was actually happy when he pushed me in the water. Under normal circumstances, I'd have been furious. But today I laughed, relieved as the surprise and splash of water refreshed my mind.

     Seconds after my head emerged from the water, Grayson canon-balled over me. He landed so close that I was smacked in the face by a large wave. I retaliated by splashing him the moment he emerged. With the adaption of playful child-like states, I was able to push away the distracting longing. The various games he threw my way didn't give me the chance to dwell on depressing feelings.

     From Marco Polo to Volleyball, we played every possible pool game. As competitive as ever, we engaged in our last contest of retrieving as many sunken plastic disks as possible. Heads popping in and out of the water, swimming across one end of the pool to the other, we jumped and splashed animatedly as we pushed the other out of the way. I suspected that in the chance that Luke caught sight of our charade, he'd pull up a chair and bowl of popcorn. Most would have described the nature of our competitiveness as absurd, but neither Grayson nor I cared. We didn't pay a thought to potential witnesses of our mania, completely absorbed in the game.

     My focus only wavered on the last ring. Frantically searching the clear water, I caught a glimpse of my underwater best friend and paused. Desperate urge to win disappearing in a flash, I followed Grayson's graceful movements. As if afraid to catch my attention, tranquilly he swam underwater. Soft strokes aimed in my direction, that's when I noticed the blue disk. I had been standing right next to it. Only inches from my foot, I could have easily grasped it before he did. I could have easily won... But I didn't move. I chose, or more so, couldn't stop myself from watching him. Eyes bluer than ever in the water, hair flowing in different directions, he was nothing short of magnificent. The grace and serenity to his movements, the way he comported himself directly reflecting his appeasing nature, I froze. My eyes followed him until he came up for air, right in front of me, last disk in hand. I didn't like to lose but the victorious beam that resulted from my loss, made me reconsider. Losing didn't seem so bad when it came with such a satisfied, captivating look. I had become a real sap, but with such a joyful Grayson Ryder I considered myself the winner. I wanted to barf at my own cheesiness.

     Normally he didn't notice the longing in my gaze. Today, he couldn't miss it. How could he when I was standing before him, right under his nose? His smile flickered. I had just lost. My normal response would be a loud outburst, a demanding of a rematch or a declaration of deceitfulness. Today's lack of an appropriate response troubled him. I should have looked away, should have forced an outburst but I was incapable of doing anything other than letting myself feel what I did looking at Grayson Ryder in that moment.

     Puzzled he held my gaze for many moments, brows furrowed until he looked me up and down. Eyes descending their hold of my gaze, they trailed my skin down to my feet and back to my pensive eyes. I could count each of the freckles splattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, and spot the darker, blue lines on the edge of his irises. If only I were to lean an inch forward our noses would touch. I could hardly focus on anything other than his warm breath on my face. Only then did he notice how close we were stood, and only then did he visibly tense.

     When he met my eyes again, his jolted wide, as if startled; pained and conflicted but I couldn't fathom why. Jaw tightening, he swallowed hard. My heart thumped loudly in my ears, endless possibilities coursing through my mind.

     Blue eyes leisurely roaming my face, as if he too was counting my freckles or the cracks in my lips, I felt exposed. He was at the perfect distance to study my faults and I couldn't find it in myself to care. If anything, I wanted him to spot my flaws, for though he studied me with extreme care and attention, not once was judgement found on his features. I let his eyes travel to the scar on my chin, to my chewed lips and to the pulse in my throat. He must have known from the bobbing of my throat, failed attempts of swallowing gasps, that our proximity, that he, was making me feel things that one really ought not feel for a friend... But I didn't care. Gaze travelling from my throat down to my chest, surely my shallow breathing was another sign.

     My yellow bikini top was monotonous, even for me. I had the tendency to choose the plainest bathing suit, always the least sparkly or colorful. I didn't wish to draw great greater attention to my body. It certainly wasn't due to exercise, but my shoulders were naturally made broad, hindering me with a less feminine body than I would have liked. My stomach wasn't flat, chest not perky, and stretch marks decorated my thighs. I didn't usually fret over my appearance, but it was difficult not to when the face of perfection dissected your deepest insecurities. I had the tendency to shift uncomfortably when I met another pair of eyes... But Grayson didn't cause me discomfort. So, though I had never been studied with such an intensity, I was not made uneasy for the blue eyes that bore into me were familiar and what I felt instead was a warmth in my chest and a threading pulse across my body. It was moments like these that I thought maybe I wasn't so hopeless. Maybe I stood a chance. Moments when his eyes would glaze over as he looked at me and I was sure his gaze shared the same want and desire as I. But every time I found myself convinced that his expression could only be associated with reciprocated longing, he ruined it.

     In the past it was an amical punch to the shoulder or bump of hip. Today it was a rough yet soft hand dunking my head under water. Just as fast as it had appeared the moment was gone. We fell into another splashing war, and I was left as confused as ever.