I continue to stare down at his hand while trying to figure out which form of physical action I wish to take – do I shake his hand, make a run for it, or body slam him into the bench? Deciding that options two and three were both cowardly and unrealistic, I begrudgingly shake the guy's hand all the while glaring at him.

Having done with the awkward formality (honestly, who came up with hand shaking?) Nate takes a seat next to me, eyeing me curiously, "can I ask you something?"

Biting my lip, I give him a thin smile that hopefully conveys how much I wish he wouldn't. "How's no for an answer? I'm pretty sure I made myself abundantly clear earlier."

Ignoring the venom in my voice, he folds his arms before leaning back against the bench, "what happened between you and my brother exactly? He's kind of a different person now."

Raising my eyebrows in surprise, I consider two things; how frank Nate is, and this new bit of information he's just handed over to me.

"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about," I mumble out, my eyes looking for Zander. Where is he? Shawn's little brother (whom I didn't even know existed) was opening old wounds, unwanted memories gushing out. That's not to say I'm about to break down sobbing from the recollection of such unwarranted memories but my restraint was shrinking by the minute, ready to set off another bout of anger.

"Shawn's kind of changed for the worse, he's always talking about you, and when he does that's the only thing to make him smile. I know you weren't his girlfriend or anything but what happened to make him like that? He's just really cold now. He says he hated high school and never talks about it. What happened?"

Sighing, I close my eyes briefly. This kid was persistent and the only way to avoid the subject altogether is to be frank right back at him. "I'm sorry Nate, but I can't help you figure out Shawn because he's the one who said he no longer wanted to be friends. I haven't heard or spoken to him in years, and I don't have any intention of reviving a relationship that is already dead to me. I think we've respectfully held our own funerals in regard to that, if you get what I mean?"

His eyebrows furrow questioningly but my pleading gaze makes him consider his next choice of words carefully. "Did he do something to you?"

"He definitely did do something. And I'm sorry to say this but I'll never forgive him for what he did."

"But what if Shawn doesn't even know what he did? If he doesn't know he did something wrong, how is he going to understand why you hate him?"

Scoffing absently, I give Nate a hard look, "he knows exactly what he did. There is no question about that. If your brother is hung up on the past or looking through the year book or whatever it is that led him to discuss me then that's on him. Frankly, he doesn't even have the right to pine for something he destroyed."

"And why are you here?"

 My eyes widen as Nate and I stare at one another, those words did not come out of my mouth. Blinking, I turn around to see Zander maskless and sunglasses gone scowling at Nate, shopping bags in his hands. Marching up to us, he glances down at me with concern before addressing Nate, "answer me this, did she or did she not perfectly articulate her disinterest in your brother?"

"Yeah," shrugging, Nate rises off the bench, his height not in his favour as he tries to mimic Zander's brooding figure.

"So that should have been a hint," Zander chewed out acrimoniously.

"About?"

"About him committing a wrong he's never owned up to and you meddling into a private matter. You hounding Catherine for particulars she has no desire of sharing was a mistake." 

Panicking, my eyes dart back and forth between the two and it's obvious that Zander's comment hit Nate a little too hard. "He's not a bad guy," Nate's hands fist, a flush rising to his cheeks. He wasn't to blame for anything, he was just trying to help a sibling who didn't deserve the amount of kind concern he was giving. Little did he know that the lovable older brother image he has in his mind could be reduced to scorn if I were to reveal all right here and now.  

"Well I can only regard him the way Catherine does, and she hates him. So that means I dislike him as much as she does," Zander replies, unfazed by Nate's demeanour. 

"Why? What did he do? I don't get it. Why does she hate him when all he thinks about is her?" Pointing an accusatory finger in my direction, I take it as my cue to stand up. I didn't know how to respond to this, my gapping dying fish reaction being the only thing to come to mind.

Despite my efforts, I give a shrill laugh at Nate's suggestion that Shawn could think of me with any sense of longing. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," is my firm yet, stolid reply. It hurts to think about it, and it hurts to see someone else unassociated with the matter affected by what occurred between Shawn and I but I am exhausted by Shawn receiving emotional dominance even now. 

"What's so bad that you can't say anything?" Nate's pleading voice almost makes me cave but I didn't want to shock him further into despair. No, it's safer and wiser to keep people in the dark. It was difficult enough to discuss it with my therapist, she probed and tried every trick in the book to get me to talk and after weeks of a few sessions, I finally told her my story.

Opening my mouth to tell Nate he should simply leave, Zander steps in front of me for the second time today. "It's her choice whether she tells you or not, no offense but you need to be worthy enough for someone to confide in you. You can't expect all your questions to be answered, it just doesn't work that way. She's told you repeatedly she doesn't want to talk and has kindly told you that your brother can fuck off. So let's leave it at that."

Peering over his shoulder to look up at him, I give him a disbelieving look that contrasts starkly to his gallant gesture.

"Okay I get it, my brother did something unspeakable but is it something that terrible?" His voice comes out strained, his eyes boring into me with begging in them. It takes me at least a full minute to register what his worst fears are and my eyes widen in shock.

"He didn't do anything like that. He never touched me if that's what you're thinking or getting at. I may hate your brother but he'd never hurt me physically."

That's because Shawn was smart enough to get others to do his dirty work for him but I wasn't going to crumble the trust between two brothers.

His shoulders relax as relief replaces the dread in his eyes. Giving Nate a small smile, my body suddenly turns into a rigid statue when Zander wraps a hand around my arm, fingers curling around the fabric of my shirt. Swallowing nervously, I look up to see a forced smile on his face, his fingers tightening.

What? What did I say?

Robotically turning to Nate, it takes Zander a great amount of effort to get his words out. "So Nate, now that you got an answer, you can leave us now." Not even hesitating with worry (for me of course), Nate walks off leaving me in the embrace of a tempest.

"Um, you can let go of my arm now?" I squeak out, my legs weakening under the pressure of Zander's grip.

"Oh really? Because I'd like to know exactly what your comment implied. Didn't touch you? Then what does that mean, because it leaves room for everything else?"

"Wah-what?" I croak before allowing myself be dragged to a small café nearby. Depositing me into a chair in a dark corner, Zander sits across from me, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"Um, I... didn't mean anything by that comment per se. I was just trying to make things more clear for Nate." My face shifts towards the little bakery section set up next to the sitting-area, a sad attempt to avoid eye contact of any kind.

"Cupcake, stop staring at cupcakes." His voice is cold and with a growing amount of anxiety, I turn back to face him only to push my chair back reflexively.

He's moved the small bistro table aside to our left, and there's no barrier between us now to protect me from this horrific interrogation.

"Now, go ahead and explain to me in great detail exactly what you meant."

"Er, to sum it up then...I hate Shawn and he's definitely total scum but the fact of the matter is, he never actually touched me?"

"I really can't understand your selection of words. He is total scum means a plethora of things."

"I don't know what you think he did to me but I hate him based on his ability to manipulate others and select people like myself as targets of his entertainment."

"You seriously have a way with words." With a grand flourish of a hand, Zander inches his chair closer while I continue to back up. Why the heck are my arms made of jelly and this little café chair so heavy?

Frowning, I decide to pick up the chair and move it at a safer distance but this only amuses him. "At least I don't analyse every single syllable," I bite back, my discomfort growing with every one of his smiles.

"You calling me analytical? I'm touched."

"Ever thought about being an analyst then?"

"You're not going to change the subject Cat."

Damn it.

Finally reaching the farthest distance I can possibly obtain, I set the chair down and sigh out of frustration. My actions have done nothing but make Zander laugh, and he finds it necessary to insult my pride by casually lifting his own chair with one hand and placing it directly in front of me. Now we're sitting knee to knee in an unobservable corner with no one in sight to save me. Is it too late to go back to the original table?

Rising to repeat the entire chair moving process, he lightly shoves me back in my chair while grinning innocently. "Now that we're done playing your little game. Can you tell me who this mysterious Shawn is?"

"I told you already, he was a friend but not really since I assumed he was my friend..." I trail off, my words jumbled and struggling in vain to find the right expression or phrasing.

"Who did...?"

"Nothing worth mentioning."

"But I think it should be mentioned. In fact, spilling your insides will be good for you, Catherine."

"I think I can judge for myself what is and isn't good for me, thank you very much."

"But you're hurt and still hurting. The crummiest line ever but that's the simple truth, isn't it?"

"And you think you can simply waltz into my life and ask me questions?" Grimacing, he shifts slightly and diverts his gaze. If I've hit a nerve or hurt him then I refuse to be apologetic about it, I was becoming more frustrated with anger mounting as questions get thrown at me. Why do I have to be the one to explain myself?

"Look, I'm really tired of hearing people ask questions out of obligatory remorse. I have never once asked to be the object of pity and I'm sick of having people disregard me when I tell them I'm fine. I can handle whatever it is I may be going through, I've been doing so till now! Do you honestly think I'd crash and burn so easily?" I responded acidly, not even caring to mask the remonstrative expression on my face. 

Why was he so hell bent on discovering the truth? I can't come up with a single reason as to why Zander would care. Aren't his own upper-class problems more important to him? He was the President's son! That's fairly self-explanatory! He had more things on his plate and more things worth his attention than an average young woman's pathetic high school past. Or maybe I'm mistaking his curiosity for concern, maybe he's just having fun probing and trying to get the truth out of me. He did say he desired the 'normal,' whatever that is.

"I'm not pitying you or trying to fuel my own curiosity if that's what you think." Gasping, I finally lift my head and direct my gaze to him, his narrowed eyes assessing my face. How did he know what I was thinking? "You did think that, didn't you?" 

"Maybe," I mumble, miffed by his offended tone. He was too good, the past few occasions I assumed it was just luck and natural instinct but he was a little too perceptive.

"C'mon Cat, give me a little credit. Or are you going to continue to view me with those preconceived notions of yours?" Arching an eyebrow, my mouth sets into a firm line – I embodied discomfort and Zander could see it.

Sighing, he looks away for a moment before gazing back at me with an unreadable expression. "If my status doesn't make it obvious, I'm good with keeping secrets. I won't disrespect you Cat, I just want to know what happened. This isn't some sort of game to me and I'm not doing this to amuse myself."

Red flag.

He was a charging bull aiming at the red flag. This is bad, my resolve crumbling already and shaking slightly. Why do I go from refusing to budge to chipping away at my own walls that I've built around me? I am the master of myself, not even the President's son gets to assert control over who I am. 

"Cat?" Titling his head to look at me, I can't help but gnaw at my lip while all the whys in my mind form, one after the other.

"I don't know!" I croak out, irritated.

"What?"

Sighing, I glance at our shoes, avoiding his gaze, "Just stop, please. Just stop."

"Does it hurt?"

"No...it confuses me." Looking up, I'm startled to see genuine concern on his face. I've seen several sides to Zander but never this much emotion.

"What does Cat? Talking about Shawn or me?"

"...Shawn of course."

"Of course," His voice is faintly glacial, his eyes now diverted again.

"I'm being honest, there isn't anything worth saying."

"But you said you could never forgive him."

"That's...If I tell you will you stop trying to figure me out?"

His eyes light up, a hopeful smile on his face that makes my stomach churn. "Absolutely, but I don't think trying to figure you out will end with just Shawn."

"Huh?" What was this guy after? My darkest secrets or diary?

"So Shawn..." Zander prods, waiting with barely constrained interest.

Inhaling and exhaling shakily, my hands tremble slightly, something heavy being dropped inside my gut. If stones could be dropped, and sunk into the ocean then that's the only way to describe how drastically my emotions have changed. 

Coiling my fingers around the strap of my bag to calm my nerves, apprehension now bubbling inside of me with every breath. I can't believe I'm actually doing this, despite everything I've thought and said, and despite my own resolve, here I am, about to tell him everything. And what truly baffles me is that I'm divulging my past just to get Zander off my back or his gaze away from me.

Closing my eyes briefly, I stare at the floor while assembling the right words.

"He was a friend, a really close friend but he was also one of the most popular and smartest kids at school, which I guess garnered a lot of jealousy and hate, and by being the vulnerable friend next to him I became the centre of that hate."

"Because you were a smart kid's friend?"

Ignoring Zander, I silently continue as if under some kind of trance, "it turns out what I thought was friendship was a disillusion. Shawn apparently would prey and collect victims like that, become friends with them only to have the other kids who adored him pick on the kids he hand-picked."

 "I was poor, had no parents, and self-conscious. They had a list of things to pick at me for, and I was completely defenceless. Shawn merely stood in the sidelines and watched it all come crashing down on me. My binders, notebooks, gym clothes, shoes...everything was soaked in toilet water, my desk covered in black marker explicitly saying an orphan like me should just die or get lost; every single day. But it didn't end there."

"It got worse?"

"They ripped my clothes, cut my hair, and threw actual nails at me...the day my Grandma died. At some point it was no longer hate for being the friend of a popular kid, it was an evil obsession to see how much I could endure before completely breaking."

"And Shawn?"

"Shawn found me locked in the janitor's closet later on and had to take me to the school nurse's office but instead of taking my side when questioned by the school, he said it was best to stop talking to one another, to stop seeing each other, to forget everything... because he no longer found it amusing." 

I don't add that I was naive and stupid enough to have initially fallen for Shawn when we first met. Zander's previous interrogation probing into the essence of my relationship with Shawn was unsettling, more so because it revealed my own imbecility. I had a rude awakening once the kaleidoscopic pieces came together and I could see him for what he was.

"The day your Grandma died?"

"It all happened the day she died. He claimed things were getting out of hand, that people were beginning to notice and I'd get him expelled. I didn't just avoid him but dropped out of school completely and never looked back."

"And then?"

"I became someone that resented herself and others. You can imagine the trust issues and paranoia I've had ever since I figured out Shawn. He was in command of a vicious cycle of manipulation and it terrified me to know that a seventeen year-old could even create a world like that. How twisted did a kid have to be in order to execute something so evil?"

Sighing, I finish my story off in a dry and precise manner, "and that's it. That's everything. My early stages were pretty bad but that all happened a couple of years ago and I'm coping fine." Grimacing at my own words, I want to bite my cheek since I hated that phrase most of all, 'coping fine.' Yes, I'm fine and I'm okay, and deal with this memory when it becomes triggered but I wasn't suffering from a dire case of PTSD. 

 Feeling myself being shaken out of an odious reverie, Zander's voice seems to break through, "you okay?"

"Yes. I am fine. For the one millionth time, I am okay. Anyways, that is that. You have the full story now. So please, let us never bring it up again."

"Catherine, I'm really sorry. I didn't ever think what you had to say would be so...so serious?" Zander's eyebrows wrinkle as he tries to search for the words that best capture his intentions. I guess words are failing us both but I didn't want such a sensitive topic to extend that sensitivity to me; I don't want the people around me walking on egg shells, thinking I'm a lamentable cause. 

Remaining silent, I continue to stare down at my hands. If Zander has something to say, then he will say it. He's never held anything back from me, when he has something on his mind he tells me, whether I like it or not but just the thought of his words impairing my stable state terrifies me though. If there's one thing I've learnt this past few days, it's that Zander had the ability to break away from the amicable.

 "Cat?" 

"Wha – what?" Staring into my widened eyes, his face softens into what I can only assume is sympathy.

"What I have to say isn't anything close to what Shawn's said or done to you. What I want to say is thank you. Thank you for deciding to take on the pain and for being the person that you are. Not everyone could have managed or done what you did."

"Um..."

"I'm not finished. It was hard having to tell me this and I'm sorry for forcing you to relive your memories but I don't regret my decision in wanting to know the truth. People grow up Cat, those kids who treated you that way now have to live with themselves knowing what they did was monstrous but you...you still remain the good person that you are and I hope you'll find peace someday. Just know something, you're better than them and always have been."

My chest aches with an indescribable warmth. Could I thank this stranger? Could I thank someone I hardly know that his words actually give me a sliver of hope? 

In fact, I shouldn't even consider someone that knows something so private and personal as a stranger. Zander went far past that but I didn't know where to categorise him. Friend should be the right label yet, somehow that doesn't settle within me when it should.

I'm so caught up in this feeling that I'm taken by surprise by Zander's hug. He must have read my silence as a bad sign and this nagging voice inside of me is telling me how much I like this, this misunderstanding is welcome. Pressing my lips together, moisture pools around my eyes from the overwhelming warmth I'm being engulfed in and I have to blink away the emotion threatening to erupt.

Letting go and stepping back to assess me, I just stare back at him trying my hardest to read him. I'm a terrible Matchmaker, I can't even figure him out and when I think I'm onto something, he shatters or alters my perceptions. Zander Nolan's profile will be marked by one large question mark at this rate.

"Did I say something to upset you?" Caught in the act of glaring, I quickly shake my head to mask the frustration projected towards myself.

"What do we do now?" I ask, my tone back to normal. Relieved, he grabs the shopping bags next to his chair that I've forgotten about. Peering at them curiously, he moves them aside from my view and gives me a sheepish look.

"First, let's get real food." Nodding in agreement, we start walking towards the food court again and it gives me an opportunity to reassemble my thoughts. I would normally freak out like a hen whose head's about to be chopped off; somehow the fact that Zander knows now doesn't bother me as much as I thought it would. I'm still edgy about having disclosed so much, but a certain part of my head tells me it's all right to trust him. Whether that part of my head is logical or illogical I have yet to figure out. And whether I'm playing the part of every kind of fool will only be revealed in time. 

Still trying to make sense of everything in light of what's occurred, I almost collide right into Zander's back. We've reached the food court and Zander turns to me while his eyes glance at all the vendors. "What do you want to eat Cat?"

"Uh, I'm good with anything." All the overthinking and anxiety has drained me of my energy, replacing it with hunger. I can't even consider being frugal at this moment, I needed to treat myself after all that's been released.

I'm about to point at a vendor specialising in curries when my phone starts blaring. Rummaging through my bag, I scoop it out and answer at the final ring.

"Cat! Where are you guys? I've been texting you for the past twenty minutes. We've been waiting in the mall parking lot forever!" Grimacing from Celia's booming voice, I stare at my phone briefly.

"What?"

"I thought you wanted to go home?"

With the phone still next to my ear, I tug on Zander's shirt sleeve to get his attention and point towards the mall entrance, which was now at last, our exit. Hurrying towards the coat-check, it takes a few minutes before we're handed back our jackets and we make our way out.

"What do you mean you've been texting me? Why not just call me instead?" I ask, annoyed by her impatience.

"Because I thought you guys were – "

"Just stop! Stop right there." I can already imagine her description of inappropriate thoughts.

"Fine."

"And don't complain about waiting, you should know how I felt."

"Okay, okay. Just hurry up." Irritated, I hang up and exit the mall, not being accustomed to natural sunlight and the freezing temperature, my eyes squint while my body shivers. Spotting Celia's car first, Zander points it out for me and we get in as the car behind us honks at our lagging pace to get in and drive off.

Once in the car, I strap myself in and sigh in exhaustion – far too much physical activity for me in one day.

"So how was the mall?" Turning around with a massive smile, Patrick wiggles his eyebrows while holding a shark stuff animal toy.

Gnawing my lip, I refrain myself from lashing out and grabbing the item of envy but of course this doesn't even cross Zander's mind as being immature because he not only grabs the shark but cranks the window down, ready to throw it out onto the highway.

"No! Not Sheila!" Extending a dramatic hand, Patrick attempts to be genuinely mortified by the thought of his shark eliminated by car tires.

Scoffing, Zander eyes the shark maliciously (if that's even possible) "Sheila?"

"That's her name fool. Now hand her back, she's precious to me."

Adjusting the rearview mirror, Celia pushes the idiot next to her back into his seat. "He's only saying that because Angelina the dolphin rejected him." Oh no. Patrick has broken my best friend; even Celia's beginning to talk exactly like him!

"How can a stuff animal possibly reject someone?" I ask confused. Maybe I'm the abnormal one?

"Not an inanimate object, but an actual dolphin. He got rejected by a dolphin during the show, and it was the funniest thing ever." Laughing, she shakes her head in memory of it and I can't help but be jealous.

"No it's not! Do you have any idea how heartbroken I am right now? My emotions!" Sulking, Patrick shoots daggers at her while Zander and I frown at their light humour and good mood. Mutually accepting without words that we would remain silent and sulk for the rest of the ride home, Celia and Patrick finally shut up, allowing us to bask in our foul mood.

We manage to avoid any more questions about the mall during the entire car ride even as Celia parks the car, not a word spoken. No attempt at conversation is made in the elevator and they continue to glance at us worriedly as we reach the correct floor.

Nudging each other, Patrick clears his throat, "um guys, how long are you going to hate us?"

"Forever." Is Zander's cold reply, his voice devoid of emotion. 

I want to laugh, but our mutual pact in the car seems to still be intact and active even now, and it was nice joking around, being surrounded by idiocy was helpful; it made me easily forget everything that's been done and said today.

"Cupcake c'mon, don't do this to me." Playfully elbowing me, Patrick eyes me innocently but before I can even respond, Zander steps in front of me for the third time today and shoves him aside.

"We're leaving now, and don't bother her."

"What? Why? What happened?" Looking over Zander's shoulder, Patrick glances at me curiously.

"Nothing." Refusing to move, Zander keeps his back to me and Celia, but waves goodbye as he continues to shove Patrick back to his apartment. Shaking my head while smiling, I avoid Celia's boring gaze, busying myself with unlocking the door.

Observation: Zander Nolan is a nice guy after all.