Dinner could only be regarded as somewhere between shitty and agonizing. Awkward silences and glances made their way across the table, bouncing from one person to the next throughout the meal. Throat clearing and pushing food around on the plate were the only sounds made until all three gave up the charade.

"I think I'm gunna go upstairs and do my homework," Peter spoke after a good five minutes of no one saying a damn thing. He grabbed a flashlight from the table, and a battery-operated lantern, which was just an extra large, glorified flashlight. "If I need some help?"

"Just let me know," Tom responded.

The second Peter disappeared from sight, Ada stood from the table. "I'm going to go-"

"Not so fast, little missy," Tom warned.

Ada lowered herself back down. "Little missy?" She had to battle to suppress her amusement, though she didn't fight it very hard, and Tom noticed. It was the least uncomfortable moment they'd shared since sitting down.

The power flickered several times, disappearing only to reappear moments later before going off completely. Some candles were already lit on the table, so the room wasn't altogether dark.

Tom looked up and Ada had to scold herself for noting how his tanned skin glowed in the golden light of the flickering candles.

"Let's go talk in the living room," Tom suggested, breaking Ada's thoughts.

She nodded, though that was the last place she wanted to talk. Out in the storm would have been better. At least there she wouldn't have to see the firelight dancing off his skin. But seeing as that wasn't an option, given the storms increased wickedness, Ada stood and went over to the cooler, where she'd slipped in a few wine coolers, and grabbed herself a bottle and Tom a beer.

She walked in silence to the living room and twisted off the cap to her wine cooler. One sip after another, she called on her liquid courage to get her through this conversation; the cold to temper her heated body and the smell to dissolve the scent of burning wood or the permanent smell of coffee and chocolate that resonated from Tom's body. Of course, next to the fire she could attribute her rosy skin on the heat.

Ada pulled the bottle from her lips and noticed she'd drank more than she should; all of it. But she had zero intention of having this conversation sober.

"Whoops."

She turned to Tom and smiled, and he just shook his head.

"How many of those does it take for you to get tipsy?" he questioned.

Ada thought back to last summer. "Three? But that's usually when I go a while without drinking, and it hits me more than it should. So it's probably more like four or five."

"You get two," Tom told her. "At least until we've made it through this conversation and things are back to normal."

"You and I are anything but normal," Ada said as she plunked herself on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Tom exhaled. "Apparently. The right kind of weird, then. Did you want a second one?"

It was tempting, but Ada had a feeling that she'd drink it just as quickly as the last and the speediness probably would cause her to get prematurely drunk. So she shook her head and Tom sat down next to her.

"So Peter."

Ada smiled wickedly. "We need to get rid of him."

Tom turned and looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "What?"

"He knows too much."

"Are you drunk already?"

Ada looked down at her empty bottle, which Tom then took out of her hands. "No. Just trying to make a joke. I'll admit that it didn't turn out great."

Tom chuckled and leaned back against the cushion of the sofa. "Eh, it was worth a shot."

Ada followed Tom's movement and leaned back, turning to look at him just as he did the same. "So," she repeated, "Peter."

"Is he right?"

Ada hoped to turn the conversation back on Tom so he could take the reins, but he appeared to do the same to her, sadly. "I don't know. Is he?"

"Do you think he is?" Tom was grinning, realizing they were both equally avoiding being the one to jump in.

But he was the one who recommended the talk. She'd accepted and knew it was for the best, but if Tom wanted this talk so badly, it was up to him to be the one to headline it.

"'Do I think he is' what?" Ada asked with a smile on her face.

Tom shook his head. "Do you think he's right about how we act?"

"Act how?"

Tom glared at her before taking a chug of his beer. "We're seriously going to be having this conversation for the rest of our lives the way this is going."

He was exaggerating, but Ada knew as well as he did that this conversation probably needed to happen.

"Then how about you just man up and answer it?" she challenged.

The words earned her another glare, which rapidly dissolved. "I don't want to have this conversation either, Ada, but we have to."

"Well, one of us is going to have to rip off the bandaid, and I can tell you right now it isn't going to be me."

"Three questions," he said. "We both get to ask the other three questions and we have to answer. Complete honesty, zero bullshit."

Ada narrowed her eyes at him. "I say 'rip off the bandaid' and your response is to make it awkward times six? I don't know who the hell taught you math, but those odds are shit for both of us."

"Isn't there anything you're curious about that you think I wouldn't answer any other time?"

He made it sound more intriguing in that sense, and Ada couldn't help but take the bait. "Who goes first?"

Tom took another several chugs of his beer until it was empty. After setting it next to her empty bottle on the table beside him, Tom turned back to her and leaned his head against his hand. "First question. Are you going to take the test?"

Ada assumed he was referring to the tests they were taking at school. Then she remembered. "Have you been studying up on Huntington's, Mr. Bennet?"

"I think my entire desk at home is covered in shit I've printed off about it," Tom admitted. He turned to her only for a moment, his eyes sincere and his expression pensive, before quickly looking forward with murky eyes. "I didn't want to force you to talk about it, but you haven't brought it up with me since that day."

Ada looked down and shook her head. "I really don't know if I'm going to take the test or not. I don't want the results to justify how I live my life, but I also don't want to live the next fifteen years wondering if it's inside of me or not."

"That's fair."

She watched as he leaned further back into the couch, signifying her turn. Ada thought hard. Three questions of her choice and as personal as she wanted to be. But it was a two-way street. The more personal she got with him, the more personal he would likely get with her.

Ada licked her lips and ran her fingers through her hair before glancing over at a seemingly nervous looking Tom. "Earlier today you said that you don't regret all the trouble our friendship has caused."

"I don't," he responded immediately.

"And that you probably would have invited me over if I hadn't invited myself."

"Yeah?"

"Why?" When Tom appeared puzzled, Ada explained further. "Why start a friendship and risk everything? We could have stayed just the way we were and there never would have been any risk."

Tom let out a massive sigh and adjusted his body on the couch, taking a lengthy pause to contemplate the question. So long that Ada questioned for a moment if he'd gone catatonic. "Have you ever seen the movie 'As Good As It Gets'?"

Ada shook her head, so Tom explained. "There's a part where Jack Nicholson is with Helen Hunt at a restaurant and he tells her she makes him want to be a better man.

"When Liz and I first started having our issues, I felt like shit about myself. It was drowning and felt fucking useless. I'd go to the coffee shop just to get away, and you somehow made every miserable day seem less miserable. Ten minutes talking to you, and I'd feel better about myself. I didn't want to scream or put my fist through a wall. I'd just feel relaxed. That's why I'm fine with the risks of our friendship. Honestly, it would be riskier to my sanity if I ended it."

She recalled what he said only an hour earlier. He'd come over because she had the ability to make him feel calmer when he was going to lose it. "I sound fucking magical," Ada said after roughly a full minute of silence. Any meaningful words she could say to him in that moment wouldn't have felt significant enough.

Tom smiled, her randomness no longer appearing to faze him. "You are fucking magical," he agreed. "So why did you want to hang out with me?"

Ada blushed, which probably didn't surprise Tom. Openness was something she was just starting to get used to. Not that Ada was closed off; people just didn't seem that interested in being let in before Tom.

"You coming in always made my days a little better too. I felt like I was part of some secret club, or something. It allowed me to know you more than others, having you as a customer, and it made me feel special. I've always enjoyed talking to you, but at school, you were always Mr. Bennet. At the coffee shop, you were this hybrid version of Mr. Bennet and Tom. That night, I got to know the real Tom, and I liked him."

Tom gave her a soft smile, a blush now slowly creeping onto his cheeks. "And I like the real Ada."

Ada tucked her hair behind her ear, something Tom noticed every time she did it, and tried her best to suppress the foolish grin that was taking over her entire face.

But it faded when Ada realized it was now Tom's turn, and with only one and a half questions remaining, he knew where the focus would be. "I'll take that second wine cooler now."

Tom let out a laugh as light and soft as the breaths he took; so subtle that it was almost a breath itself. He left the couch without a word and Ada listened as the cooler lid dropped shut and heard the 'Psshhhhhhh' sound of Tom opening two bottles. He handed the wine cooler to her, standing in front of her; a tower of strength compared to her small, curled up body.

Ada accepted the drink, her fingers grazing his. The effects of the touch were enough to make her body shudder, and her eyes moved to his fingers as they let go of the bottle. Her gaze travelled up his muscled, tanned arm, up to his broad shoulder and freckled neck. Her eyes hesitated once they hit his dimpled chin. After that would be his mouth that Ada did not want to gawk at it. She would also reach his stare that would prove to her just how awkward things were about to become.

There were two questions she was expecting him to ask, neither of which she was looking forward to. Ada raised the bottle to her lips and took one gulp after another until half the drink was gone. She only hoped the liquid courage was fast acting.

"Second question-"

Just hearing those two words made Ada's index finger shoot up, telling him to wait, before she chugged the rest of her drink. Liquid courage worked faster if it was consumed faster. Scientific fact.

"Good and tipsy?" Tom asked, his tone an octave higher than usual.

Ada risked it and allowed her gaze to reach his face, which appeared very much entertained by her. She gave him a wavering smile. "Not as much I wanna be, but I guess it'll do in a pinch."

"Second question," he repeated as he strode away from her toward the fireplace.

Ada crossed her arms and sulked. She was sure he could see it in her; the nervousness and resistance. "Do we have to?"

"Yup. Second-"

"We could-"

"Will you just let me ask the damn question, woman?" he shouted at her.

When the teacher in him broke out in his vexed, 'you're on thin ice' facial expression, Ada relented. "Ask your question," she muttered, slouching further into the couch's armrest.

Tom left his post by the fireplace and walked back to where he stood before, sitting on the edge of the coffee table smack dab in front of her. "Number three-"

Ada's eyebrows crunched together. "How did I get drunk enough to not remember you asking the second question?" When his mouth formed a tight-lipped smile and he stared her down, realization caught up to her. "Oh, that number three."

"That number three," he affirmed with a small nod. "Why me?"

Ada moved her gaze toward the fireplace. "Fuck you," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear her, "that's why." It was the question she was predicting, but answering it was mortifying no matter what choice of words she used.

"Answer the question, Ada."

"Diseases and emotions? Couldn't you have started with easier questions, like if I enjoy puppies or some shit like that?"

Tom let out a huff. "This is supposed to help us talk about things."

"I love talking about puppies!"

"And I will go to the fucking shelter tomorrow and get one if you just answer the question." His voice soared above hers, booming as loud as the thunder outside and as fierce as the wind pressing the violent rain against the window pane. He wasn't angry, just frustrated.

Emotions and arbitrary words that failed to create sentences jumped around in her brain like a ping pong; too rapid to interpret their meaning. The best answer she could come up with is that she imagined him to be a good kisser, but that would not be something she said aloud, tipsy or not.

"Why kiss me?" he repeated, frustration building in his voice just as it was building in her everything.

Ada leaned up, strong in her stance as she glared at him. "Because I want to kiss you and that seemed like as good of an opportunity as any!" she screamed back, her words not bringing as much intensity as his, rather an exasperated defeat. Her body fell back to where it was before.

As her back hit the cushion of the couch, Ada's stomach turned; not by the alcohol, but by words unspoken until then. She wanted to reach out and grab them, but they were already out in the universe, and she could never take that moment back.

He already knew she didn't hate the idea of it. She asked him to kiss her. But wanting to kiss him was a confession that could be dissected for the truth she was only starting to come to terms with.

Ada swallowed hard as she moved her eyes to the flames of the fire that danced around as if to ridicule her.

Tom didn't make so much as a peep. Minus the noises from outside and the crackling of the fire, there was silence in the room. Ada didn't dare look at him, but could no longer handle the heaviness of the quiet. "You shouldn't get a puppy unless you want one. They're a major responsibility."

Tom let out a laugh like the one he did before, becoming one with his quiet breaths, but this one wasn't as smooth as the last. "Maybe I'll get an adult dog or somethin'. Avoid having to go through the training."

Ada half nodded, half shrugged. "It's better to adopt an older one. They have a harder time finding a home."

Ada peeked up just enough from her lowered face to witness Tom rub at his neck. "Maybe I'll start looking online."

"I think you should," Ada agreed. "I changed my mind, by the way."

Tom's eyes narrowed on her and his eyebrows furrowed. "About me getting a dog? That was quick."

"About kissing you." Not that she didn't want to, but it didn't take a genius to grasp that it shouldn't happen. Only bad things could come of it. "I don't wanna anymore."

Whatever feelings Ada had for Tom were better left unexplored.

Tom only scoffed at that, then moved to sit on the couch. Her couch. "Too fucking bad."

Her eyes shot over at him. "What do you mean 'too fucking bad'?" Ada asked with a slight shake of the head and a perplexed expression.

"Just that; too fucking bad. You're not getting out of it." He seemed so sure of his words. The way he spoke them so light heartedly yet with confidence, Tom appeared to be unfazed.

She wasn't certain how to disagree with that logic, or lack thereof. "So come graduation, you're just going to kiss me?"

A cheeky grin took over Tom's face as he nodded.

"Whether or not I want you to?"

"Oh, you'll want me to. I plan on being very charming that day."

Ada gave him a slow nod, speculating if Tom had legit lost it. Not that he couldn't be charming, he was charming as hell right now.

When she heard the stomps of Peter coming down the steps, Ada turned to see her little brother. She moaned a curse word under her breath at the disruption and watched as Tom scooted further away from her on the couch, pretending as if the exchange they'd just had never occurred.

Ada wiped at her face and tried to force away the emotions of the conversation.

"Tom, can you check my homework?" he asked as he trotted into the room with a handful of papers.

Ada feigned disappointment. "I can't check it?"

"Tom's a teacher. He's smarter than you."

Tom laughed. "I'm pretty sure your sister is the smart one, but I'll take a compliment when I can get it."

Peter plopped between her and Tom. As Peter began flipping through the pages of his homework, Tom glanced in her direction and flashed her a lighthearted smile. It was free of any judgement, which was a comfort.

Things could have become so easily awkward, which they did for a moment. But he could have lectured her or made her feelings for him seem insignificant. Instead, Tom seemed to take the news of her crush with ease; at least, better than she took it.

It was no new revelation to her or him, she found him handsome and she enjoyed spending time with him, but Ada hadn't comprehended the intensity of what she felt for him until she yelled the truth at him and to herself.