It continued to rain even as I went to bed, and it didn't stop until dawn. When I woke up, however, the sun was up and beaming in its best mood as if the downpour had not happened last night.

In a way, this was who I wished to become; someone who could metaphorically rage against the roofs in the gloomy dusk of my feelings to let them out and could still smile at dawn just like the sun peeking through the window into my room.

Motivated to make a change in my attitude and start the day right, I closed my eyes to go back to sleep. Right then, my phone vibrated, followed by a maddening ringtone as if the universe found it amusing to mock me. In a blunt movement to reach my nightstand, I rolled off the bed and banged my head on the floor. I lacked the energy to get up and take the phone, so I just lay on the floor in a painful version of the corpse pose.

The phone did not stop ringing. I knew it had to be Arson.

I reached up to the nightstand without standing up and patted the surface of the stand until my fingers closed around the screeching device. I answered it, placed it on my ear, and yawned.

"Why are you calling?"

"It's nice to hear your voice as well," he replied, and I could almost hear him smiling on the other end. "How's your Saturday going?"

"You just woke me up! What on earth do you want?"

"Glad you asked. I'm heading to your house right now."

"Why? What's wrong with yours?"

He laughed. "Just get ready, okay? We're going out."

He quickly hung up before I could protest.

I remained on the floor for a while without moving. I looked at the opposite corner of the room where another bed emerged out of nothing. A frustrated Riley was lying across the bed, her head dangling above the floor and her eyes looking up.

"I mean, I don't get it," she was saying. "I know I told him to stay away from me, but I obviously didn't mean it."

Back then, I was simply amused at her restlessness, as those who are emotionally removed from a couple's fights often are.

"Don't forget the 'Go to hell' part," I pointed out. "Maybe he's actually planning the trip."

She scowled at me. "Very funny. I was just angry. He knows I say things that I don't mean when I'm upset. It's already been two weeks."

"Shouldn't you be worried about finals or something?"

She slid off the bed and sat on the floor. Ignoring me, she went on about Avan.

"We've never had a fight like this. We usually just wrestle it out and talk about it. If we're not speaking to each other, how are we supposed to fix it?" She paused to chew on her nails. "I don't want us to break up because of gossip out of all things."

"So, you don't believe he kissed Victoria?"

"Of course not. I know they're just friends. I trust him."

"Then what was the whole 'stay away from me' act about?"

"I don't know. He didn't even bother to explain to me what happened as if I'm supposed to blindly trust him—I mean, I do, but he doesn't have to be so smug about it."

I remember trying to hold my giggles in, but I laughed until my stomach hurt. She rolled her eyes at me and continued to speak.

"And now I don't want him to think I don't trust him. This whole relationship thing is founded on trust." She sighed in frustration. "Why do I love that idiot?"

"He's not an idiot. That's why he loves you. He'll be back."

She smiled at me. "Thank you." She took a deep breath, and I watched as the perplexed frown faded off her face. "Oh, would you like to hear about how we met?"

"I don't suppose you'll let the fact that you've told me the story a hundred times stop you."

She grinned. "You know me so well."

I listened patiently as she once again explained the physical education class exercise to me.

"So I had the roster in my hand to choose my teammates, right? And I wanted to select some people I had never played with before and—"

"You saw his name, and you laughed to yourself about how similar his name and mine were," I cut in, then I adopted a slightly more high-pitched tone to make an impression of her voice. "Ava, Avan; ha, that's so funny." With a chuckle, I added, "Oh, please tell me what happened next."

She caught the sarcasm in my tone, but she still went on. "He's not very athletic, so I had to teach him the basics of field hockey. He had a hard time moving around without bumping into the other players. After the game, he looked exhausted, so I offered him some water from my bottle and sat next to him by the bleachers. I said, 'Hockey does tend to be a blow to one's pride.'"

"He laughed, and he replied, 'Well, here's to hoping that my flirting skills aren't as bruised as my ego', et cetera. Since then, you knew that you and Avan were a forever kind of thing."

Riley smiled. "I didn't know that back then. But I know it now." She rested her head against the bed. "We're a forever kind of thing," she said, borrowing the phrase.

"Is that your version of getting ready?"

Riley disappeared as though chased away by the voice. I looked up, startled, and saw Arson looking down at me.

"What are you doing?" he asked me, holding out his hand to help me up.

"I was just thinking." I stood up and tried not to look at him.

"Not that I mind your current outfit," Arson said, staring at my pajama set, "but you might feel uncomfortable in it outside."

"You know you can't just barge into my house like this, right?"

"I've been here so often that it's as much my house as it is yours at this point."

He continued to speak, but I tuned him out. I took my time to brush my teeth, shower, and change, knowing he was getting impatient.

When I finally decided I couldn't kill any more time, he had already left my room and was now munching on a protein bar.

"When I called yesterday, your dad said you weren't home yet. Did something happen?" he asked without looking up.

I shrugged and shook my head. "Where's Dad?"

"He already left for work. You slept in today. So—" he jumped off the stool and took one last bite of the snack— "are you ready?"

"Where are we going?" I asked, following him to his car in our driveway.

He wore a mischievous smile throughout the ride and surprisingly remained silent until we reached his destination. When he parked, and I looked outside the car window, I realized that we were at the mall.

"A mall?" I said, turning to him with a scowl. "You must be kidding. Why are we here?"

"Well, it's Saturday. Basketball practice is suspended because Coach hates my guts. I got nothing better to do."

"Why did you have to drag me along? I have better things to do."

He scoffed. "I'm sorry; sleeping does not count. Come on, let's go have some fun."

A rush of cold air and excited chatter greeted us as we entered the complex.

Arson rubbed his hands together with an enthusiastic grin. "I need new jeans. Let's meet back here later."

"Don't take too long. This place is sucking my energy by the minute."

He sent me a wink and practically skipped to the first store he found. I sighed and walked into the Old Navy store on my left. I strolled monotonously past the aisles without looking inside. Time seemed determined not to go by fast today.

"Avery?"

I turned around to find Jacob three aisles away. I waved and felt a pang of guilt in my stomach when he smiled. I expected our interaction to end there, but he held a hand up as to tell me to wait.

He helped another guy carry some large cardboard boxes to the "Staff Only" room in the back. When he came out again a few minutes later, he seemed surprised to find me at the same spot he left me.

"I didn't think you'd wait," he said, walking to the section where I was pretending to have found something captivating.

I smiled sheepishly at him. He was wearing simple blue jeans and the staff's gray uniform, but somehow he made it look good. Sweat glistened on his forehead from the mild effort it took him to carry the boxes.

"Why would you think that? Is it because I've been avoiding you for eleven months?" I joked.

"I just thought you would ignore me. We haven't talked much since..."

"... middle school?"

"Yeah." He chuckled, running a hand over his buzz cut. "Sounds about right."

"So, you work here now?"

"Couldn't find a job in any other department. I tried the Sports section first," he said, laughing. "The manager thought I was kidding."

"Still not very athletic, huh?"

In response, he took a cotton handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Fortunately, I still have my pretty face; most of my job consists of helping out customers."

"So it all works out." I smiled.

He was about to say something else when a voice yelled from the staff room, "Jake! You're supposed to be helping customers, not having conversations."

His ears flushed a pale red when he faced me again. "Well, see you at school. It was nice talking to you." He waved, I grinned when I noticed the bracelet he had on his wrist—a Caribbean bracelet made out of small jingling blue and red seashells and ripped sewing threads that his mom had made herself. I remembered that he used to refuse to wear it at school, but he now wore it proudly.

As he walked away to greet other customers and offer his assistance, I wondered what my life would look like now if I hadn't pushed away all these people who cared about me. My strategy to stay away from everyone was not working out for me. I needed a new plan.