We didn't have breakfast that morning. It was many, many hours following the cake fiasco that the idea of eating again became plausible. Usually skipping a meal resulted in a bad-tempered Alexa, but today I was thankful for the lack of food in my system. I hadn't known it was possible to dislike someone to the point of nausea, but Amanda Cole overcame the impossible. Today was the day of the study date, and she took every opportunity to remind both Grayson and me.

     She even managed to weasel her way into walking to the Ryders with us. While she retrieved her belongings, Grayson and I argued by my locker. He had his mind set on me being present during the walk.

     "We walk together every day. She's cutting into my Alexa time."

     Brow cocked; I didn't let myself get side-tracked by Alexa time.

     "It's a fifteen-minute walk."

     "Exactly," he said stubbornly. "It's an extra fifteen minutes with you... And I don't want to be alone with her."

     "You'll be alone with her when we get home."

     There was no way that I would remain in the same room as the two as they worked on the project. God knows what Amanda had planned, but it wasn't any of my business. I didn't even want to think about her and Grayson together.

     Failing to find an argument, Grayson groaned loudly.

     "This is your fault," he accused. "She wouldn't be so persistent if she didn't hate you so much. Of all people, why did you choose her as an enemy?"

     "Why were you born with that face?" I retorted with the same tone of accusation. "This has nothing to do with me... Luke is my friend, but she has never so much as paid him the time of day. If your face wasn't chiseled to mere perfection, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

     "My face is not chiseled to perfection," he mumbled hotly, cheeks glowing a light shade of pink.

     I scoffed. "People don't even try to hide the fact that they're staring at you—"

     "I'm the new kid."

     "You're so naïve," I laughed. "My family was brutally murdered, I spent three years in my captors' home, and still people stare less."

      Visibly uncomfortable, he spluttered wordlessly. This is how I preferred him. He was much more tolerable when he wasn't speaking.

     Giving up his fight to find a response, he whined loudly. "Alexa!" he moaned. "Please just—"

     "Alright!" I caved, placing a hand on his excessively loudmouth. "I'll walk with you. Just shut up!"

     He had already caught just about every student's attention.

     Getting what he wanted, in seconds his expression of immense displeasure transformed into a large grin. Child.

     "You owe me big time," I professed miserably.

     His smile didn't even flicker.

     The walk was as enjoyable as I had believed it would be, not at all enjoyable. A barrier between two rivals, Grayson stood between us. He tried to include us both in the conversation but neither Amanda nor I bothered to acknowledge the other's presence. I spoke only to Grayson, and so did Amanda. Eventually we all fell silent, making for an incredibly awkward walk. Never would I have thought I'd live to see the day that Amanda Cole ran out of things to say.

     I made a beeline for my room the moment we stepped into the home. Grabbing a book, I headed for the treehouse. Grayson and I's rooms were much too close for comfort, today. I wanted to be far from their hearing and sight.

     "You're going to the tree house?" Grayson demanded, voice a whisper.

     Amanda had shown herself to his room, uttering something about setting up.

     "Most definitely."

     "But I need you in case of emergency!"

     "Emergency?" I retorted, brows shooting into my hairline.

     What did he expect to happen? While I chuckled to myself, his eyes remained urgent.

     "Are you genuinely worried?" I frowned comically. "I can assure you that as annoying as she is, there is nothing menacing about her. She won't bite— Actually, biting is likely to occur."

     Undignified noise of panic escaping him, a look of horror struck his features. "You are so not helping!"

     Still laughing, I pushed him out my door. "I'm not trying to help. Have fun."

     Lips parting to complain some more, he followed my gaze to the waiting girl, and instantly forced a polite smile.

     Cardigan removed; Amanda sat in a tight, low-cut, white tank top. Catching my gaze, naturally her eyes narrowed, but for once I couldn't be bothered to return the look of eminent detestation. Suddenly highly amused by the situation, I couldn't suppress a grin.

     I caught one last glimpse of a very displeased Grayson; eyes narrowed, his expression turned sterner as he placed a fist to his chin and fully extended his fingers as he struck his hand forward. I was both confused and affronted. I couldn't recall ever seeing a gesture of the such, but somehow, I knew exactly what he meant. The gesture was far from well-mannered.

     Lounged on the heap of blankets where we usually did our homework, I thought I would lose myself in my book, my first downtime in days. Mind drifting to the exasperating boy and his perfect blue eyes, it seemed I would never fully be rid of him. Every couple of pages I flipped, I found myself envisioning the immense discomfort he was currently experiencing and smiled brightly. Safely hidden from the two, happily imagining their overwhelming state of discomfort, for the first time in a long time, it was difficult to dislike Amanda. She was doing me a great service. So long as she kept Grayson occupied, and he remained uneased by their interactions, I would be happy. If they were ever to come to share mutual interests... I didn't even want to think about it. The idea that they could develop a friendship, or worse a relationship, was an absolute nightmare. The moment I was stuck between the two most infuriating people I knew was the moment I broke my promise and packed my bags.

     My worries of Gramanda becoming a thing were eased the moment a very dishevelled, panic-eyed Grayson swung the trap door open. Startled by the sudden intrusions, I dropped my book. Normally I would be outraged by the losing of my page, but taking in his crossed state, I bit back a grin. Accusing eyes demanding my attention, he placed his hands on his hips, brows furrowed ridiculously in anger. He was unhappy, so naturally, I was happy.

     "She attacked me with her tongue!"

     Jaw clenching, in an instant my delight faded. "She did what?" I demanded.

     "In her defence she thought I was initiating it. But I was just reaching for the textbook!" he cried, flopping down on the pile of cushions. "It's not my fault she was sitting so close... Believe me, it was embarrassing enough for the both of us. No need to be angry."

     Picking my nails with forced nonchalance, I attempted to keep my face neutral, displaying no hints of the swirling fury deep in the pit of my stomach. I had no reason to be upset. None at all.

     "If her coming over is going to become a regular occurrence, I hope you'll be more lenient on my absence."

     "Are you kidding?" he scoffed, flicking my forehead absurdly. "Nothing is getting in the way of our schedule. And I'm pretty sure she hates me more than she does you, now."

     Perking up, I cocked him a curious brow.

     "She didn't appreciate my pulling away, and she most certainly did not appreciate my kicking her out."

     "You didn't," I groaned. She was only going to become a greater nightmare. She'd be spreading rumors before the first bell rang tomorrow.

     "She was insulting you!"

     "She always insults me."

     "Not to my face, she doesn't."

     "You're so childish." My lips twitched upwards despite my chastising tone.

     Grayson paid the insult no notice. Crossing his legs as he sat up, he shot me a pointed look. He wore an expression of one waiting for something.

     "What?" The persistent staring made my skin itch. Was there something on my face?

     "She kissed me," he said gloomily.

     "I heard."

     "This is your fault," he said impatiently. "Please fix it."

     "Ignoring the fact that it was not my fault, unfortunately, I have yet to acquire the ability to travel in time."

     Grayson was not humored. His eyes remained narrowed impatiently. "I just need you to kiss me."

     "WHAT?" I demanded; voice shrill-like.

     Face growing hot with red blotches, I leaned backwards, placing as much distance between Grayson and I as the small quarters allowed.

     "Kiss me, please," he repeated, without a hint of shame or uneasiness. Like he was asking for something simple. "That would fix it."

     "No!"

     "Alexa." He took a dramatic breath. "She licked my teeth!"

     "Oh, that's great incentive to place my mouth where hers has been!"

     "I just need you to cancel it out," he groaned.

     "That's not how it works."

     "In my mind it does."

     "I am empathetic of your unfortunate predicament, but you're just going to have to find another way to wash off that kiss. Try brushing your teeth."

     "I did!"

     "Try it again!"

     "I already know it won't work."

     "Then I'm afraid I'm fresh out of ideas."

     Small pause to allow for his pouting, I knew by the determination in his eyes that the conversation was far from over. I sat up straighter, preparing myself for a fight. This was not an argument he would win.

     "What if I'm hit by a bus tomorrow—"

     "That seems irrelevant and highly unlikely."

     "It happened to Regina, and if you had told fourteen-year-old Grayson, that days before your birthday I would wake to your disappearance, I too would have claimed that highly unlikely."

     He had a point, but still I crossed my arms stubbornly.

     "If something horrible happened to me tomorrow, would you not be haunted by the idea that my last kiss was shared with your arch nemesis?" He tried again.

     "No." He was greatly overestimating my dislike of Amanda. She and I had once been friends; deep down she was a good person. She had qualities I admired, she just chose to hide them.

     Brief appearance of an affronted expression, he didn't let himself get side-tracked. "Do you care enough for me, to be empathetic towards the idea that it would very much haunt me?"

     Biting my lip in feigned consideration, he didn't wait for my answer.

     "Alex!" he grumbled. "You're so inconsiderate."

     "Grayson," I replied in the same indignant tone. "You could find many girls that would be willing to kiss you. Why not try one of—"

     "Absolutely not!" he interrupted, thinking the idea abysmal. "That would be incredibly awkward."

     "And this isn't?"

     "It wouldn't be, if you didn't make it out to be."

     "I beg to differ."

     He groaned again, pulling his hair in frustration. "We've done it before. It can just be another memory recreation... It was no big deal then, it'll be no big deal, now."

     "What?" I croaked, shrill and blush returned.

     "Do you really think we could be such good friends without our other friends daring us to kiss?" His tone implied that I was the idiot. I was not the idiot in this treehouse. "You'd be stupid to think you weren't my first kiss."

     I wanted to share my own belief of the extent of his stupidities, but I found myself incapable of doing anything other than spluttering incoherently. Cheeks flaming, as always, I tried to put pictures to the memory that I had been retold, but the resulting sickening flutter in my stomach lead to my desire to repulse the memory. Already I found myself gazing at his lips with intrigue; I didn't need anything to contribute to my curiosity.

     I feared Grayson would note my embarrassed state, but it seemed he was too caught up in his own misery.

     "I knew you'd be reluctant, but I didn't think you'd make this big of a deal out of it. You didn't used to care about this stuff... I thought you'd jump at the opportunity of doing me favor. It would mean I owed—"

     "Alright!" I cut him off, agreeing mostly with the intention of shutting him up. The constant yapping was only drawing more attention to his pink lips. If I was going to kiss him, it was going to be when I could still fool myself into thinking that I didn't actually wish to reacquaint myself with the touch and taste of his lips.

     "Alright?"

     "Yes. Do it."

     Determination slowly fading, he scratched his neck awkwardly. "Now it seems wrong. You seem so against it..."

     I shot him an incredulous look. Seem? Was he too suffering from memory loss and had forgotten our latest dispute?

     "I don't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

     "Just. Do it," I repeated through gritted teeth. I would not have him hold this against me.

     He watched me nervously, still torn. It was my turn to groan loudly.

     "You're angry about it. I don't want to force you—"

     "You're such an idiot!" I interrupted, blush spreading in anticipation of my words. "If I was as against this as you thought, I wouldn't have caved so easily! If you don't think it's a big deal, then neither do I. I'm just doing a favour for a friend— And now you're confusing me! You were so adamant and now what? You don't want it unless I romance you? What the hell is the meaning of this? I gave you permission. I told you, you could do it, so do it! I don't understand why you had to go and make this so much more awk—"

     I swallowed my last word with a loud oomph. As tired with my yapping as I had been with his, hands placed aggressively on both sides of my flushed face, he pulled me forward. Soft lips crashed against my chapped ones. I stifled a gasp, careful not to reveal longings that I had struggled to admit to myself. Having expected nothing more than a quick peck, my lips parted in surprise when he pulled me closer. A rational reaction would have been to pull away, but sharing his breath, reason was impossible, and I found myself instead melting into his embrace. Incapable of breaking the trance until it became a necessity.

     Gasping for air when we pulled away, Grayson's face finally matched my beat red one. The short distance allowed for reasoning to return, and realisation hit me like a slap to the face. Mortified that I had let myself get caught up in the moment, I looked anywhere but in his direction. If my face turned any warmer, I was afraid I would combust.

     Unconsciously biting his wet lip, Grayson was the first to compose himself. "Thank you," he said, words slow as if he were processing various muddling thoughts.

     Almost robotically coming to a stand, tentatively he held out his fist. A fist bump... How's that for acknowledging a first kiss? Or a recreated first kiss. Unsuccessfully forcing a smile, no doubt my expression resembled more one of torment. Still, I bumped my fist against his. Gesture being one you would share with a buddy following the completion of a basket or the telling of an amicable joke, I convinced myself to find comfort in the action. It meant he wouldn't consider this a break of our friendship. It was a silent agreement to think no more it. That worked for me. It lessened the chance of the declaration of unreciprocated, misunderstood feelings. We were, unrelated, hormonal teenagers living in the same home, it was bound to happen. Now that the tension was relieved, it wouldn't happen again, and I could continue to ignore the racing of my heart when he stood too close and the catching of breaths when he shot me that special smile. This was a favor between friends... There was nothing more to it.

     Stood by the exit, Grayson's speech remained slowed. "I'm going to take a shower," he stated. "I'll be back soon... You know— memories."

     With a small nod, I watched him clumsily descend the wooden ladder.

     Cheeks still flushed red when he was gone, I didn't give myself time to think about him or my inexistent feelings. The moment he disappeared, I reopened my book, happily replacing confusing thoughts with the story before me.

     Grayson wasn't gone as long as I would have wished. He certainly must have rushed the shower. I should have known better to think he would take the two wasted hours lightly.

     The moment I heard the rattling of the ladder, I had to swallow a moan in anticipation of the discomfort to come. Nervous and fearful of the idea that he might choose against continuing to act as though nothing had happened, my worries vanished the moment he appeared through the trap door. Instantly struck between the eyes with a nerf bullet, the book in my hands tumbled to the floor. Blinking stupidly as a result of the initial shock, before I could think clearly and form a complaint, Grayson tossed me a nerf gun and a bag of extra rubber bullets.

     "Every bullet you strike me with is an extra hour of sleep that I can distribute however I like," he said. "Game on."

     Extra sleep and retaliation? That was more than enough incentive. I shot at him before he could properly exit the small shack. Stumbling as he hurriedly jumped off the ladder, I was given the perfect opportunity to shoot him in the derriere.

     Jumping down after him, we ran around his yard until the darkness made the aiming and ducking impossibly difficult.

     Through concentration, yelps of surprise and laughter, I lost count of my gained hours of sleep. Grayson assured me that I had earned an extra hour of sleep every day for at least a month. I reckoned I had hit him more than he believed but I couldn't find it in myself to fight for the extra hours. Initially more sleep had been a way to lessen the time spent him. It had been a way to escape him and his crazy tactics, but I was no longer sure if that was what I wanted.