To say Fletcher was curious about last week's whole ordeal would be an understatement.

It was all he could think about. During class, the bus ride home, late at night. Sometimes, whenever he ate with Sam, Fletcher wanted to straight up ask him about it.

This was very unlike him. Fletcher was never one to involve in other's burdens, especially since he was drowning in his own, but somehow, he really, really wanted to know. He wanted to know every detail, every buildup, every flaw there was that lead to their sudden connection. And he wanted to understand the point of all their encounters and maybe even understand them as well.

Most of all, he wanted to figure out whatever it is that made them turn their backs on Thea Banks.

Because maybe, just maybe, their reasons might not be that different from his.

It was very unlike Fletcher to actually want the trouble.

After all, he's spent most of his life — if not it's entirety — pushing people away. Cutting ties and breaking bonds, that's what Fletcher did best. He was never a people-person to begin with.

But there he was almost every lunch time with Sam, having the longest conversations than he's ever had with anyone. There he was, keeping secrets for others — without question or without second thought — even though he didn't have to.

Fletcher Greenly had never been part of anything.

Yet somehow, surrounded by this irreparable mess, with the unending guilt and sorrow and rage slowly piling up on him, Fletcher was scared to be alone.

So, as dangerous as this may be, perhaps, this could be exception.

With his sudden urges and curiosity-driven mind, Fletcher slid a note inside each of their lockers.

—

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

Fletcher watched as Sam's eyes scanned through the Top Courts. He looked genuinely shocked as three other people emerged from school to the outside, right where he and Fletcher were positioned.

Noor was the first person they saw, though she was the shortest out the five of them. She had a couple of books in one hand and, with her spare hand, she waved at them from across the courts.

"Why'd you call for us, Greenly?" Roman shouted from the other side, his hands inside his pockets as he strided towards them.  Next to him was Gabriella, arms crossed and a bored look on her face.

"You do know I've got places to be, right?" Gabriella huffed. "This better be good."

"Wait," Noor said. "You guys received the note too?"

"Unfortunately," Roman deadpanned. He pulled a small piece of paper out from his pocket then read its contents allowed. "After school. Top Courts. You owe me."

"And all of us owe Fletcher?" Noor asked. When the three of them nodded grimly, a look between shock and genuine awe passed by her features. "That's actually kind of impressive."

"Ugh, can we just get to the point," Gabriella groaned. "What do you want from us, stalker?"

They all turned to Fletcher's direction, their expressions ranging from pure confusion to impatience, and it didn't help either that his glasses intensified their emotions even more.

In that moment, Fletcher thought about backing out. Where would he even begin? How could he open himself up, much less encourage them to do too, when he's never done it before?

He could walk away, right then and there, like he always does, and pretend none of this ever happened.

But Fletcher knew that, deep down inside, he was tired of running. And he knew that, if he left now, he would never learn how to stop.

"Thea Banks," he said finally. "We're all connected to her, aren't we?"

Fletcher lifted his head up and saw the four of them frozen. He waited a minute and, when they still hadn't spoken, he said, "Are we the reason she died?"

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Noor tighten her grip on her books, Gabriella shivering under the warm sun, Sam holding his breath, and Roman biting back tears.

"Shut up, Greenly..." Roman murmured, his tone sharp yet on the edge.

"Am I wrong —"

"It doesn't matter if you're wrong!" Sam cut in. He turned to Fletcher, his eyes filled with cracks. "Just drop it, okay?"

"And why would it matter anyway?" Gabriella asked, now visibly shaking. She wrapped herself further into her denim jacket. "You weren't Thea's friend. You didn't even like her. Why should we trust you with anything?"

"Because I was there!" Fletcher answered without thinking and, soon, more words kept escaping his lips before he could catch them. "That night in Brews," he mumbled. "A few weeks before she started missing class — before she killed herself — I left Brews and she went after me."

Fletcher's eyes were travelling to different places at once. First they were focused on them, then to the sky, then to the ground, as if they were running in a marathon. "She went after me," he repeated. "And she asked if I was okay and I yelled at her. I told her to go away and —"

He barely caught himself in the end but, by then, it was too late. Fletcher had poured himself out into the open, made himself vulnerable to hit, cut, and bleed — and there was nothing he could do to take it all back.

After a two painful seconds, Noor whispered, "You were the last person she talked to."

Fletcher looked back at them and saw disgust slowly creep into their faces. Each of them took a step back — even Sam, who had been sitting next to Fletcher the whole time — and another and then another. Until they were trampling on Fletcher's already-broken heart as they left the Top Courts.

In a daze, Fletcher couldn't help but wonder if this was what Thea felt like when she watched him walk away.

—

The next day at lunchtime, Fletcher sat by himself.

It took him about two minutes to realise that Sam wasn't going and another to notice him sitting at the other end of the cafeteria, which was the farthest place from Fletcher.

Sam wasn't the only person avoiding Fletcher this afternoon. Gabriella had gone back to her previous routine of ignoring his existence, Roman didn't bother to throw him an insult, and Noor couldn't even lay an eye on him whenever they come across each other in the hall.

Fletcher was used to being invisible, so how come this bothered him so much?

He was just about to leave the cafeteria when he heard a sudden clang. When he turned around, Fletcher saw Noor Rahal looking down at him from across the table.

"Sit," she said and, judging from her tone, she was dead serious.

Fletcher sat back down. "What are you—"

"Shut up," Noor interjected. "Just listen to me for a sec, okay?"

Despite being utterly confused, Fletcher nodded and waited until Noor spoke again.

"Look, I don't blame you for what happened with Thea," she said. "Well, not entirely anyway. And I'm sure the others do too. Don't blame you, I mean."

Fletcher laughed. "Well, they're doing a great way of showing it."

"Cut them some slack, will you?" Noor defended. "I'm might not like all of them, but I can see where they're coming from."

"Do you know something I don't?"

"No, I'm just as confused as you are —" She paused. Then, "Look, I don't know what's happening right now. But I do know that we all want someone to blame for Thea's death. You just happen to be that someone."

"So you do blame me?"

"What I'm trying to say is," Noor pushed. "You may have been the last person to turn your back on Thea Banks, but you weren't the first. All of us could've done something, but we didn't. I guess it'll take some time until they realise it too."

"They'll come around," Noor said. She got up from her seat, her tray in hand, but before she left, she turned back and said, "Goodbye, Fletcher."

With nothing else left to say, Noor was gone.