Getting ready for school on Monday morning is a struggle. Not for me or anything but for my siblings and for Diego. Apparently, my mother promised Diego's dad, Joseph, that she'd make sure Diego gets to school on time. When she wakes him up in the morning, I can tell that he isn't used to getting up at six. I can also tell that he isn't used to actually being woken up. Just as I leave the bathroom, he's exiting his quarters. He looks genuinely annoyed so I try to steer clear of his path.

My mom makes breakfast so you can tell that she's trying to make Diego feel at home. I give her until the end of this week before she starts handing out pop-tarts and breakfast bars. The food doesn't do much to make him feel more at home; he doesn't even eat it. I watch as he picks at the eggs on his plate, discreetly throws the food away, and heads towards the front door.

"It's raining outside," my mom notes from the sink, where she's washing dishes. He turns around, unsure if she's addressing him or not. "I was thinking you should ride with the boys...and Orion."

I can tell Diego doesn't want to ride with us because his shoulders slump slightly and he shoves his hands deep in his pockets. "Is there room?" he asks, probably secretly hoping we'd say no.

"Yeah, of course," Calum answers cheerfully, oblivious to Diego's urge to head to school alone.

After we all finish up breakfast, we head towards the door, preparing to pile into the car. My mom stops me before I can step out of the house by calling my name. "Orion!" she shouts and I turn around. "Can you do me a favor?"

"What is it?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. What does she want me to do literally two minutes before I'm supposed to leave? I swear if she asks me to run upstairs and grab something for her... As if on cue, my brother begins blaring the horn and I look to my mother, preparing to have to do something she's perfectly capable of doing just because she doesn't feel like it.

"Can you make sure Diego gets to his classes? And, you know, actually sits through them?" she asks, taking me by surprise. I think I'd rather run upstairs and grab her hairbrush.

"How am I supposed to do that? I have one class with him, mom," I inform her. I only have my first period class with him. Whether or not he shows up to the rest, I wouldn't know, nor would I really care.

"You have friends, right? See if they share any classes with them and ask if he bothers to show up," she presses. When I sigh loudly, she looks at me pleadingly. "You value education so much; doesn't it bother you that he doesn't take it seriously?"

"Mom, he doesn't care," I tell her. "Why should I? It's his future, not mine."

"Just do this for me, honey," she pleads. Before I can reply, she opens the door for me. "Now go on, get in the car before your brothers take off without you."

I leave the house, pulling up my hood and tugging on the strings as I approach the car. The door is shoved open before I reach it so I'm able to duck in immediately upon my arrival. I quickly close it behind me, noticing that I'm sitting beside Diego, who's tapping away on his phone. I can't help but acknowledge that he doesn't have a bag. I swear I saw one lying on the floor when I went into his room on Saturday. Breaking the silence, I look at him. "Did you leave your backpack?"

He turns to glance at me and I realize that this is the closest I've been to him yet, even closer than when I was staring at his chest on Saturday night. We're actually touching right now. I can't help but smell him and it's a pleasant scent. I suddenly realize it's weird to purposefully inhale his aroma so I try my best to ignore it. "No...well, yes."

"Do you want to run in and grab it before we go?" Calum asks just as he's preparing to back out of the driveway.

"No, it's fine," Diego responds calmly. If I left my backpack inside, I'd jump out of the moving car to grab it. I can't afford to go a day without my materials.

"You sure?" Calum presses.

"Yeah, positive," Diego replies and that pretty much ends the conversation. Because Calum is a nerd and can't drive with music playing, we have to endure a silent ride. However, we arrive to school in a timely manner. It only takes fifteen minutes to walk, so driving takes less than a third of that time. We all get out of the car and begin approaching the building. However, Diego slowly drifts from the group and curiosity gets the best of me.

"Where are you going?" I call out, surprising myself and my brothers.

He slowly turns around, yet again unsure if he's the one being addressed. When he sees me staring at him, he points over his shoulder. "Coffee." I follow the direction of his hand and see that he's pointing across the street towards a little diner.

"Are you coming back to school after?" I ask. He still has twenty minutes before the first bell but I feel like, if he wants to, he can just leave and come back before the last bell to catch a ride home with us (if he even bothers).

"If I feel like it," he answers before turning and jogging across the street. I stare at him as he swings open the door to the diner.

"Since when have you become besties with him?" my brother Nate asks. He's younger than me and Calum, but older than Benjamin, who we've pegged with the nickname Benji the Baby.

"What are you talking about?" I ask.

"You talk to him. You don't talk to anyone," Benji clarifies and I look back towards the diner.

I shrug. "It was two questions, Ben."

We enter the large school as a group before dispersing without a single word. As I arrive in the hall where my locker is, I notice Diana digging through her belongings in search of something. I approach her with a quirked brow. "What are you looking for?" I inquire.

"My stupid history textbook," she complains.

"Well, I can't help you there. I don't have that class," I tell her.

"Yeah, I know, Ms. 16 AP Classes," she remarks and I shrug.

"I only have 3," I reply matter-of-factly. I open my locker and gently put away some of my books. When I close it, I prop myself against it and watch my friend struggle to find her book.

"I bet you'd have more if you weren't required to have a study hall," she replies. Though her statement is true, I don't want to prove her right and agree so I rack my brain for a reason as to why taking on more advanced placement classes wouldn't be a good thing.

"No because then I wouldn't have time to work," I counter.

"You barely do," she notes. "You study for six hours a day on the days you don't work." I simply shrug in response. I mean...she's not wrong.

"I'm content with it," I confess.

"When was the last time we hung out?" she asks.

"Yesterday," I respond.

"Not at work, Ri," she replies as she discovers her textbook hidden deep under a bag of gym clothes. I'm not even sure if she has gym this year. Wrinkling my nose slightly, I watch her move a single tube sock from under the textbook's cover. How'd her locker get that dirty in the span of two weeks?

"Hm..." I think. When was the last time we hung out?

"Exactly," she answers, cutting off my thinking period. "It's been a while."

"We see each other all the time in school..." I trail. We have a class a day together and then we sit together at lunch, so it's not really all the time. "And then we see each other at work."

"Yeah, but we can never just sit and hang out," she replies. "And Ri, when was the last time you even interacted with a boy, by choice, who doesn't identify as your brother or a project partner?"

"I talk to J.D. whenever he comes in," I mumble, referring to a regular customer that pops into the bookstore once a week to say hey.

"Don't get me started on J.D," she practically hisses. "He's everything you want in a guy and more and you won't even give him the time of day. He's practically in love with you and you don't even notice."

"Diana..." I say with a sigh. J.D. doesn't like me. She assumes that any guy that talks to me by choice must be in love with me simply because no guys do.

"Fine. Forget about J.D," she exhales quickly. "I think my point is proven-."

"Actually," I start, biting my lip, "I talked to a boy this morning."

She immediately turns to look at me. "Who? About what?"

"You probably don't know him," I tell her with a shrug. This is a big school and our class count alone is about three hundred, give or take.

"What's his name?" my best friend asks eagerly, begging to hear my boring recount of a casual conversation. It wasn't even a conversation. I asked him two questions and barely got responses.

"Diego," I reply and she furrows her eyebrows in thought, tilting her head. Her thick, coarse hair flops to the side, causing a wave of deep brown to follow her head.

"Last name?" she asks. I think for a moment. I know this.

"Ruiz, I think..." I trail and she snorts.

"Come on, if you're going to lie, be more realistic," she replies with a laugh.

"I'm serious," I tell her and she looks at me with a dubious expression. "He's staying at my house for a month. He officially moved in on Saturday."

"Do you have any idea what realistic is, my friend?" she asks me with a playful grin on her face.

"I'm serious, Diana!" I respond, growing irritated. "My dad and his dad are friends."

"Okay, is the president staying at your house too?" she asks with a smirk. "And the first lady?"

I glare at her with crossed arms. "I'm really serious."

"Look, he's coming this way. If he's staying at your house, then talk to him," she insists and I turn around to see him approaching with a cup of coffee. His free hand brushes through his wet, black hair.

"What do I say?" I ask her and she shrugs.

"I don't know. You better think of something quick because he's walking pretty fast," she states and I turn to see him breezing past us.

"Diego!" I call and he stops walking, backtracks and turns around to look at me. We make eye contact for a few seconds and I struggle to find something to say to him. When something remotely plausible comes to mind, it flies from my mouth at lightning speed to make up for the silence filled gap. "Are you going to class?"

"If I wasn't, would I be in school?" he asks with a small smirk on his lips.

"Where else would you go?" I reply quietly and he chuckles airily before sipping his coffee.

"Your house is in walking distance, you know?" he rejoins.

"How would you get inside?" I ask. I don't think my parents gave him a key.

"Your mom told me where the spare key is," he responds as he holds eye contact. "And even if she didn't- you guys don't have an alarm system and I left one of the windows in my room open."

"It's on the second floor," I counter.

"There's a tree close by," he replies. Before I can respond, the bell rings and he narrows his eyes slightly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to class before I get marked tardy. Maybe you should tear a page out of my book and do the same."

I turn to look at Diana to see her eyes wide and her jaw agape. "You were serious," she whispers before slapping my arm repeatedly. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"Ow," I mutter, shying away from her touch.

"Oh my gosh! He's staying at your house! This is just like in the books you read!" she sighs in delight. "Maybe he's the guy who'll spark up your love life! You know how you want to create your own romance story? Maybe he'll be the male protagonist!"

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," I tell her, grabbing both of her hands and putting them at her sides. "He has a bad reputation. I don't want to get involved with him any more than I have to."

"Even better! He's a bad boy!" she squeals.

"I don't like bad boys. I want a boy I can study with and talk to about school," I clarify and her smile immediately falls and is replaced with a look of disgust.

"Do you really need to talk about school more than you already do?" she asks. "Loosen up! Live a little!"

"I am living. I wake up. I eat. I breathe. I sleep," I tell her.

"Go out! Do something crazy! Maybe some illegal stuff," she whispers the last part. As tempting as 'doing something crazy sounds,' I wouldn't even know how to go about it.

"My dad's a cop," I reply with narrowed eyes. "I don't think that'd go over too well."

"He doesn't have to know!" my friend retorts.

"Look," I start, unsure if the words I'm about to say are true, "he's not the type of guy I'm into. Besides, I'm not looking for a relationship or anything like it at the moment."

"It doesn't need to be a relationship. You could always just hook up. He's right across the hall if you need him," she says with a wink and I start backing up, slowly shaking my head.

"I'm not even going to reply to that. I'm heading to class. I'll see you in Psych," I tell her, listening to her laugh loudly as I walk down the hall.

I arrive to class barely a minute before the late bell. As I'm walking down the aisle towards my seat, a familiar voice speaks from beside me. "You really wanted to make sure I was in class, huh?" I turn to find Diego stretched out in the seat directly in front of my usual one.

"If you bothered to show up, you'd know I was in this class too," I retort as I sit down, pulling out my notebook and pencil case. His eyebrows raise as he looks at me. "No offense or anything," I add quickly as an afterthought, which earns an eye roll from him.

Just as I'm about to ask why he hasn't been coming to class, Mrs. Jeffries begins handing out papers for the day, starting on our side of the class. As she reaches Diego, she looks at him in slight surprise. "Glad to see you showed up to class today, Mr. Ruiz," she greets him.

"Can't say it was my choice," he mumbles quietly and I clear my throat before greeting the teacher.

"Good morning, Mrs. Jeffries," I smile, accepting the paper.

"Good morning, Orion," she returns the smile. As she moves on to the people behind us, Diego turns around.

"'Good morning, Mrs. Jeffries,'" he mocks as he tilts his head to the side. "You probably have an A+ in this class already. Do you really need to kiss up?"

I narrow my eyes at him and he smiles in a smug manner. Mrs. Jeffries makes her way back to the front of the class and starts her lesson before I can respond. I simply go with a quick and sharp nudge to the back of his chair with my foot. His seat jerks forward and he turns around and looks at me with narrowed eyes. I cough and point to the teacher, which gets me one last glance from him before he turns back around. 

+++

When lunch is over, I head to my locker to retrieve my homework for study hall. A familiar face walks by and approaches the exit until I call out for him. "Diego!" I repeat for what seems to be the millionth time today. For two people who barely know each other, we seem to interact a lot.

"Yes?" he asks as he turns around, looking at me as if he'd been caught.

"Where are you going?" I ask and he only provides a grin in response. "What class are you trying to skip?"

"I went to three of my classes today. I can't skip my last one?" he complains. "They don't even count attendance. It's not even a real class."

"What class?" I ask him.

"Study hall," he responds. They don't count attendance? I have that class every day; it's my last period, too.

"You're in luck," I tell him. "I have that class, too."

"So you're going to skip with me?" he asks with that same grin on his face and I shake my head.

"No, you're coming to class with me," I reply.

He looks at me as if unimpressed by my words. "Look..." he starts. "I know you love school and everything but I don't. All I want right now is a cup of coffee."

"You can always get coffee and then come to class a few minutes late," I suggest and he scoffs dryly.

"I think I'm just going to get my coffee and walk around a bit," he tells me. "See you at dismissal." I sigh as he slips outside. Well, I think, at least he went to three of his four classes. As I walk down the hallway, the same thought plagues my mind. They don't count attendance in study hall?

The day plays on and before I know it, it's time for me to go to work. My dad's bringing me and rather than studying the flashcards I have stowed away in my pocket, I'm forced to have a conversation. "So your brothers told me you and Diego have become friends?" he asks and I shrug.

"I wouldn't go as far as to call us friends," I answer as I aimlessly flip through my note cards, not reading a single word I wrote on them. "But we've talked, I guess." On the way home from school, I asked him how he knows they don't count attendance and we talked about that for the short car ride. Apparently, my brothers saw that as a major sign of friendship and felt the need to report that information to my dad when he got home.

"That's a start," my dad smiles. "You got him to go to his classes today, right?"

"Three of them. He skipped the last one," I explain. "And please don't ask how many classes he was going to before because I don't know."

"Well, I had a talk with him and I think it's best we get him a job. Maybe if he has something to do, he won't have time to get into trouble," my dad explains and I sigh.

"Why are you telling me this, dad?" I ask.

"Is the bookstore hiring?" he questions.

"No," I answer almost immediately.

"Think you can ask your boss?" he proceeds to inquire. "Or maybe ask around a few places near the plaza."

"I can check with the nail salon if that's what you want," I tell him sarcastically and he sighs.

"I guess I'll have to check a few places. I'll talk to some friends- see if they know anyone that's hiring," my father replies, effectively giving up on me as a source of help.

The conversation comes to an end shortly after that. As we pull up to the bookstore, I get out of the car, thank him for the ride, and tell him I'll see him later. I enter the store and allow the warmth of the heaters to embrace me. I pull my hoodie from over my head and shove it under the register. 

"So..." Diana starts as she grins at me. I look at her and roll my eyes, already having an idea as to what she's planning on talking about. "Diego."

"What about him?" I ask her, trying to busy myself with other things. A cute boy is in my house. We've talked a couple of times. I don't see what the big deal about it is.

"Did you talk to him? Kiss him?" she asks me and I turn to her with an annoyed look on my face.

"He's been in my house for three days," I remind her. "I'm obviously pregnant."

She rolls her eyes at me. "I'm serious, Orion. Get on that."

"What's there to get on?" I ask before sighing as her face contorts to one of perversion. "Don't answer that."

"He seems interested in you," she replies.

"How do you figure? He actually talked to me in the hallway?" I ask.

"Yeah! He doesn't talk to many people," she replies. "He has like three friends."

"And how many do I have?" I ask her with narrowed eyes. The answer to that is one.

"Exactly! You actually talk to him! That has to say something," she explains and I roll my eyes at her.

"I talk to people who talk to me. I'm just not a fan of starting conversations," I reply.

"You started that conversation with him today," she presses.

"Yeah, to get you to believe me," I answer. "Had you not doubted me, I wouldn't have even acknowledged him and vice versa."

"Just talk to him and maybe you'll find out that he's your dream guy," she replies, wiggling her eyebrows. I scoff and tap the counter.

"My dream guy has to care about school, have dreams and aspirations, know what he wants in life, be respectful and stay out of trouble, and he should also be just a little cute," I explain to Diana. "Oh, and it's a plus if he likes reading!"

"Well...Diego is a lot cute. That must count for something!" she grins and I roll my eyes.

"I'm on shelf duty. Have fun working the register," I tell her before turning away.

As my break comes around the corner, I keep my promise to myself and disregard the romance novels and head straight for the coffee shop. Upon entering the small restaurant, I inhale the scent of coffee and think of Diego. I approach the counter and smile at Sue, the owner of the place. She's a nice lady. She even remembers my name. And she gives me a large hot cocoa even though I only order a medium ever since the time I helped her with a large crowd.

"Medium hot cocoa?" she asks knowingly and I nod as I stare at the marble counter-top.

"Hey, Sue?" I speak after a few seconds

"Yeah, hon?" she replies and I look at her with furrowed brows.

"Are you hiring, by any chance?" I ask.

"Is the bookstore not working out?" she inquires with a smile and I shake my head, chuckling.

"No, I just have a, uh... friend who's looking for a job," I tell her.

"Well, I could use another hand around here. My nephews aren't available as much anymore because of college," she responds. "Is your friend a hard worker?"

From what I can tell, no. "Yeah," I lie for whatever reason. "He's a hard worker."

"Well, tell him to swing by sometime and I'll see about maybe giving him a job," she winks at me and I nod before returning to my seat. I just lied to Sue to get a boy I barely know a job. Diego so owes me.