Cyrus sat back at his desk, staring at the video of Tiffany, who sat back at school, her head in her hand.

“What’s up love?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Same old here. It’s so boring!” She sighed and gave him a small smile. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“How was your first day back?”

“Eh, it was okay. I’m on probation for the semester because of the pot thing.”

“It wasn’t even yours. This sucks.”

“Tell me about it.” The pot they had found hadn’t even been his pot, not that he had hidden his terribly well. A couple more minutes, and they would have found his stash on top of his roommates. And his roommate had sold him out in a second, throwing him under the bus. He didn’t even bother to defend himself. His family had been more disappointed that he had kept it secret versus actually talking to them. They were from Spain, and it was legal to use it for personal use in Spain, so what did they care.

No, his mother had cared more about him using it to self-medicate to deal with his anxiety versus actually talking to her about it.

“I wonder who told the school,” she said, sitting at her desk, looking down to do her homework. “It’s not like you were the only one smoking it.” She looked side-eyed at her left, where he was sure her roommate was sitting.

“Yeah, they know. They’re not idiots, Tiff. They just used me as a convenient scapegoat to scare the rest of the idiots there.”

Tiffany rolled her eyes, smirking, looking at her with her beautiful green eyes. “It’s still stupid. Couldn’t they use someone else’s boyfriend as a scapegoat?” It was rhetorical, but he still liked being called her boyfriend. He just missed her. He missed holding her hand and burying his head in her long, thick curls.

He imagined it for a moment. But Tiffany’s face was not the face he was picturing.

“Hey, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.” Before he could say anything, she blew him a kiss and logged off. He did miss her; he missed belonging to her. But now he was home, and a certain brown-eyed girl kept intruding into his thoughts.

The doorbell rang, jarring him from his thoughts. Of course, it could only be one person. Why he rang the doorbell when he had his own key, Cyrus would never know.

Cyrus went to answer the door in nothing but his boxers. He was about to tell Matthew to go home. Except it wasn’t Matthew who stood on the front step.

“Hey Cyrus.” Luci stood with her sweater tied around her waist, just below where her naturally tan midriff showed. She looked him up and down, smiling when her eyes reached his face again.

Right, he was in his boxers. But it wasn’t like they hadn’t already seen each other naked. Still, it made his cheeks burn.

“Luce, what are you doing here? How did you get here?”

“I took a cab. I had some spare change. Can I come in?”

“Huh. Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.” Walking past him, she smiled again. Something about her seemed different, sadder, reminding him of the girl she used to be back in middle school, not the strong girl she had become. He should have never left her, he thought.

“You took a cab to see me?” He followed her into the living room, where she dropped her bag and took off her 3-inch high wedge sandals, tucking them underneath her. She looked so tired there.

“Is that a crime?”

“No, I just thought you’d be busy.”

“With what? I have no homework and decided that dealing with my mom could wait.”

“Does she know you’re here?”

“No.”

He let out a deep sigh. “Luce, you’re making matters worse. Call your mother.”

“Let me think about that. Yeah, no.” She grabbed a book from her bag and began reading.

Cyrus shook his head but sat beside her, pulling her legs over his lap. She stared at him above the edges of her book. Those eyes he missed those eyes looking at him that way.

“What did she do?”

“She told the therapist to ‘fix me’. Can you believe that bullshit?”

“Nothing about you needs fixing.” He laid his hand on her leg. It was a good thing she was in jeans, he thought desperately.

“Tell her that.”

“Luci—wait, therapist? Why are you seeing a therapist?” What had he missed?

She stared at him a moment, closing her book. “Right, I never told you. Well, you know about my dad and shit, and then my family, well, it sent me to a really dark place. It was…debilitating, you could say. And, well, the only thing that made me feel better was cutting myself.”

What the hell! “What the fuck, Luci!”

She shrugged like it was no big deal. “It was a thing. It happened, it’s okay. Just chill out.”

“Chill out? Seriously, are you that psychotic? You’re acting like this is no big deal.”

“Because it’s not!” she screamed, jerking her legs off him to stand up. “It helped, okay, it made the pain go away. It was better. I don’t like being sad and angry all the time, like this heavy black cloud was sitting on me, suffocating me. It helped me.”

“So talk to someone. Talk to me—”

“You? You were too preoccupied with that skank—”

“Don’t call her that. You don’t even know her.”

“Except I do, Cyrus!” Her hand flew over her mouth as if she could recapture the words. “Cyrus, I—”

“Who Lucita?” He practically spit her name, making her flinch. “What, are you seriously telling me that I have been dating Tiffany? Because I sent you a picture, I double-checked with you, and you told me it wasn’t her.”

“That’s—you wouldn’t have believed me. It was my word against hers—” Knocking filled the air, this time from the kitchen door. Cyrus glared at her.

“We aren’t done.” He made his way towards the kitchen door, this time sure it was Matthew. He needed to tell him off; he needed to be alone with Luci.

“Hey man!” he said, making his way in like it was his own house. That was what they did, these two, always ready to live in each other’s houses.

“Matthew now’s not really a good time—”

Matthew went deeper into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “You know Cy, I’m glad you’re back—”

“Matt, I need you to leave. Now.” He kept the door open, letting in the Florida humidity. He needed Matthew gone, and he needed to finish the conversation with Luci.

“Dude, why?”

“Because I’m here.”

Cyrus spat curse after curse in his head, every curse he could think of in English and Spanish. This girl would be the death of him. This was all he needed for Matthew to verbally attack her. But that didn’t happen. Matthew just stood there, staring at her, his body instantly relaxing where it had been tense all day.

“Lucita, what are you doing here?”

“Revealing my newfound relationship with sharp objects.”

“It’s not really new.” Mattthew leaned back against the counter, taking a bite of the apple. Cyrus didn’t like how he was staring at her. He also didn’t like how familiar he was being.

“You know.” He looked between them. “He knew!”

“I couldn’t tell you,” she said, wringing her hands together.

“Why the hell not!”

“Because you told Tiffany about my dad!”

Cyrus stared at her, stunned. “I—how did you know about that?”

“Because she got my number from your phone,” began Matthew. “That girl wanted me to mess with Lucita. She wanted me to screw with her.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because you were so enamored,” said Lucita, tone bitter, eyes rolling. “You wouldn’t have believed us. You wouldn’t have believed me.” She eyed him like it was a challenge, a dare to tell her she was wrong.

“He still doesn’t,” muttered Matthew.

“Damn straight, I don’t! I love her!” He hadn’t meant to say it, those words. Hell, Cyrus wasn’t even sure if he believed them, but he wanted to hurt Luci. And looking at her, he saw that he did and quickly regretted it.

“Oh please,” she seethed. “You don’t love her! You’re so needy—”

“Luci,” warned Matthew.

“No! I’m gonna say it. I know what my problems are, I know I’m broken and messed up, and yeah, my habit is not healthy, but at least I’m not so desperate for love that I am willing to live a lie!”

“It’s not a lie!” he screamed back at her.

“Dude! It is!”

Cyrus stared at Matthew, his supposed best friend. “Seriously, you too?”

“Cyrus, she text me. She literally told me she was only dating you to do this. To drive a wedge between you two. This is what she wanted! Way to go, Luci.”

“Oh bite me.”

“No, thank you.” But Cyrus saw him look at her strangely. Even that, knowing that they were close, pissed him off.

“I want the two of you out of my house.”

“Dude, come on. Just listen to us. Listen to me. That girl is poison! I’m glad you’re back here; I’m glad shit happened because, look, she’s not even here, and yet her claws are so deep in you. Look at us. Luci wouldn’t lie to you. I wouldn’t lie to you. You have to see the truth! God, I’m glad you got expelled. Maybe you can finally see reason.”

“Cyrus, she’s not who she says she is. Just listen to us!”

Cyrus had had enough. Cyrus charged at Luci, grabbing her wrist hard, half dragging her out of the kitchen.

“Let go of me!”

“Cyrus!” called Matthew, following.

“No!” He yanked Lucita close to him, lowering his face towards her. Pathetic, she called him pathetic. “How fucking dare you. You were the bane of my existence in middle school, a pathetic little stalker girl living some delusion that we had been friends, that we had a connection.”

“It wasn’t a lie! Now let me go, you stupid pot-smoking asshole! You deserve Tiffany,” she spat.

Cyrus flinched. “Fuck you,” he said, shoving her to the ground. She yelped, looking up at him, worried. He wanted to bend down, he wanted to hold her, he wanted to say sorry, but he was so angry at her, so furious at the truth of her words.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You’re the one who called the school on me. Jesus Christ, you’re insane if you thought a little distance was going to make me break up with her. And for what? For you?” A voice in his head told him to shut up, but he couldn’t. He was angry at her, angry at her for lying, for not trusting him, for falling for it.

“Dude—”

“No! I didn’t do that. Cyrus, look at me! I’m your friend, whatever else, please believe that. I love you. Why can’t you just believe me!”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Cyrus—” she whimpered.

“Get out!”

He stared down at her and watched her eyes fill with water, tears slipping out. Cyrus watched her grab her bag meekly, wiping her cheeks, shoulders sagging and shaking. She didn’t even put on her shoes; she just grabbed them and left the house.

Looking back at Matthew, he listened for the door to slam, surprised at his friend’s anger.

“You.”

“Don’t even. You know, Luci is right.”

The words took him back. “Excuse me?”

“Those first two years of middle school, you did like her. You loved how much attention she gave you. The only reason you didn’t pursue her was because the rest of us teased you about her. But even back then, you were desperate for love and affection. You’ve never really liked being alone.” Matthew made to leave, out the front door, after Lucita before stopping briefly.

“Oh, by the way, I was the one who called the school. Tiffany doesn’t care about you, and she will hurt you. And you know what, you wouldn’t have listened to us. Had Luci told you the truth, you wouldn’t have believed her. You would have thought it was some plot of hers to keep you single. Even now, you don’t believe us. So you know what? I think I made the right call. Call us when she fucks you over. Luci, she’ll always wait for you.”

Cyrus watched him leave and listened to the front door slam shut.

They were wrong; they were lying. He wouldn’t believe their bullshit, not now, not ever.

“Fuck both of you,” he muttered before slumping down on the floor.