~ This chapter is dedicated to foodismypromdate for being such an awesome person and for taking the time to read my story. (Check her out, she be cool). Thanks so much. Your comments on my last chapter got me through the day.

The gym is packed. All the bleachers are filled with staff and students laughing and starting to get excited about the game. On the court, the Lancers are warming up. They're taking turns taking jump shots at the net to the right of the gym. Josh slaps Todd encouragingly on the back after he misses a shot.

Like the rest of the team, both of them are wearing black tights under their shorts and long-sleeved shirts below their jerseys. Opposite to them, a team dressed in orange is running drills. The Hornets, I think. I drag my gaze across the large room, looking for a place to sit. Tamara had left early, saying something about a doctor's appointment. I am alone. The packed gym is the last place I want to be but I had promised Todd that I would be here.

"Audrey!" someone yells. It's Cynthia waving me over from the top of one of the bleachers. I frown, considering my options. Should I just sit at a random spot, pretending that I didn't see her? Or should I make an effort to be nice to Cynthia? Hesitantly I climb the bleachers, whispering apologies to people who shoot me angry looks.

"Hi," I say when I reach Cynthia. Beside her, Aditi jumps up and down as Josh runs across the court with the basketball. Her face is painted with the school colors, black and red. She's also holding two posters, one with the number 2 and another with a 5. Aditi pulls me beside her and I fall into a seat. Blake is nowhere to be seen. I wonder if he is also on the basketball team.

"I'm so excited for this game," Aditi squeals. "I've been thinking about it for days."

"Yeah, Aditi a huge basketball fan," Cynthia says with an eye roll. "It gets pretty annoying during basketball season because Todd and Josh are both on the team." She flips her hair over her shoulder and leans over to look at me. "Do you play any sports?" Why is she being so nice?

"Um, soccer?" I offer, not really sure whether Cynthia is being genuine.

"Cool. I used to be a cheerleader." She points a slender finger to the edge of the court, where a group of girls are stretching. "I quit after the girls dropped me last year." A pretty red-head catches Cynthia pointing and waves up at her. She waves back with a radiant smile.

"I'm sorry about that," I say honestly. Even if Cynthia is clearly a sour person and loves to antagonize people, I wouldn't want her to get hurt. She opens her mouth to say something but then Aditi lets out a small scream, pulling Cynthia's arm and then mine.

"Guys, it's starting!" The lights turn off and dramatic music starts to play. A senior announces the Lancers one at a time. When Todd and Josh stand up, a serious look stretched across their faces, Aditi goes crazy, along with the rest of the crowd. I find myself cheering softly. A fluttery feeling spreads through me at the energy of the room.

The whistle blows and the music dies down. Within a few minutes, it's obvious that the Hornets are no match for the Lancers. I realize that Josh is good. Really good. He takes the first few shots for the team, pumping his fists at the crowd after he scores. Todd is good but he isn't quick on his feet like Josh. He fumbles the ball a few times and gets a penalty for shoving a burly kid.

By halftime, it's 20 to 4, with the Lancers in the lead. The cheerleaders come into the center of the court for the halftime show. "Hey, I really want some popcorn," Cynthia sighs, leaning over to look at me. "Audrey, can you get some for me?" I look around the gym. Nobody is eating popcorn except for the couple in front of us.

"Where do you get it?" I ask. Cynthia is being nice for once and I'm willing to forgive her for ruining my art.

"Second or third floor I think," she answers, pressing a coin into my hand. I make my way down the bleachers and jog around the court. If Cynthia is making an effort to be my friend, I should also be doing the same thing, right?

No one is selling popcorn on the second floor. Or on the third floor. I'm about to head back downstairs when I come across a senior sitting against the lockers. He's furiously typing away at his laptop. Closing my eyes, I count to five. I inhale and exhale. I can do this. "Excuse me." The boy looks up. An annoyed look becomes etched on his face as he glares up at me.

"What do you want?" he spits. I blink at him, while he tugs at a piercing on his ear. It's red and raw from the pulling. On instinct, my fingers fly up to my own bare lobe, feeling relieved that I hadn't pierced them.

"Do you know where I can buy some popcorn?" I ask. Regret fills through me. I should have just left it alone and just walked away. This guy obviously didn't want to be bothered, especially by a nervous junior.

The boy leans his head back and squints at me like he forgot to wear his glasses today or something. "What are you talking about? Our school doesn't sell popcorn. It's way too cheap for that shit."

"Really?" I say quietly. My throat hurts. Cynthia lied. In a heartbeat, I spin around and run down the stairs. I'm about to head down the second flight of stairs when I hear voices down below, forcing me to come to a halt.

"Cynthia, I feel bad. We should go find her," a Aditi says, her voice laced with regret.

"I thought it was pretty funny," Cynthia replies. "She's so stupid for falling for it."

"Cynthia," Aditi warns.

"Um, soccer," Cynthia imitates. "I bet you that she can't even kick a ball with those skinny little legs."

"She's so sweet," Aditi says. "I feel bad for messing around with her like that."

"Ew, she's not sweet. She such a fucking doormat. And did you see how she was flirting with Todd on Monday? What a loser." A weight drops in my stomach and I close my eyes. I'm not a doormat and I wasn't flirting.

Their voices fade away as they head back into the doors they had come from. I scramble down the stairs, upset with Cynthia and for some reason, with the entire world. That was so immature of them and of me for falling for it.

I was happy in Oakville, with Emily and Aryan, and my mom. Oh God, my mom. The same mom who laughed with me, who came to my soccer games, who always made sure I had enough paper to draw on. The same mom who had lied to me. A fire burns in my stomach and I race toward a water fountain, sipping up water like it's been years since I had seen it.

"Oh God," I whisper. I don't want to go back to the gym and I have no idea how to walk home. Hanging my head down in embarrassment and just plain sadness, I jog across the hallway, not really sure where to go. Lakewood is a big school, with many halls that lead to dead-ends. It isn't long before I get lost in the history department.

"Watch out," a voice says. I come to a stop before I can crash into a wide-eyed Blake. He has his hands up in front of him to protect himself.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, wiping my sleeve across my wet eyes.

"This is familiar," he says with a smile. A gym bag is slung over his shoulder and his hair is wet. He's wearing a green sweater over a black shirt. I don't say anything and stare at my shoes. "Moore? You alright?" he asks, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm good," I say too quickly. I feel humiliated. Of all the people, I could have met in the hallway, it had to be him in all his brooding glory. The day of the party had been fun, well at the least the part where we made cookies together. Even if Blake had been relaxed at that time, the fury in his eyes when Josh pulled him off Todd scared me. It still scares me.

"What happened?" he asks.

"Nothing. I was going to go home," I say, looking up at him. I hope that my eyes aren't red.

"Did Tamara do something?"

"What?" I say, confused. "No, she didn't do anything. She's not even here."

"Then who?" Blake frowns and looks behind me. "Was its Cynthia? I swear to God, that girl-"

"No, it's nothing. I was being stupid. It's okay," I say. Blake watches me for a long time, scanning my face with his intense brown eyes. He puts his bag onto his other shoulder and I catch a glimpse of another tattoo below his left collarbone.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he says finally. His question catches me off guard and I cock my head.

"What. With you?" I ask bewildered.

He rolls his eyes. "Who else?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know you that well." I bite my lip and start playing with the straps of my backpack.

Blake turns to leave. Putting his hand up in a wave he says, "See you around, Moore." I do want to get out of here. Just not with Blake. His rage-filled eyes flash through my mind and I hesitate, keeping my mouth shut. Turning back to look at the doors of the gym, or at least where I think the gym is, something churns inside of me. Those large blue doors had been so intimidating and unwelcoming.

"Wait. I want to come," I say, jogging up behind him. Blake tilts his head and gives me a wicked grin. We walk to his locker where he grabs his black jacket.

"Come on," Blake says. There is the same eagerness in his voice that I noticed on Monday when we talked about our English project. It was also there when we made cookies at the party. When we are outside the cold air hits us and I zip up my sweater. It's cloudy and the wind rustles the leaves on the trees. They look like they're waving at us.

"Where are we going?" I ask. Not wanting a repeat of the Monday disaster with Todd, I try to keep a steady pace while attempting to match Blake's strides. He's too fast.

"There is this café just down the street," he answers. We fall into a strange rhythm for a few seconds. Our shoulders brush and I step away from him. Maybe this isn't a good idea. I mean this is the same guy that beat up Todd over something so silly. How could I be stupid?

Wanting to break the silence between us I ask, "Why weren't you at the game?"

"I'm not so big on sports. I get restless when I watch people play. Besides, I was in the weight room," he says and tucks his hands into his pockets.

"Weight room? Like for working out?" He nods. "Is that where you go for lunch?" Blake looks at me and laughs. His laugh is low and musical.

"Hey! Have you been watching me?" I'm not sure what I should say so I say nothing. For all of last week, I ate lunch with Tamara and Gabriel. Josh had called me over to their table a few times but I just shook my head at him. I didn't want to ditch Tamara. Most of those days Blake had been missing from Josh's table. "Do you play any sports?"

"I used to play soccer," I answer. The nostalgia kicks in at the mention of soccer and my mind wonders about the girls on my team, pondering what they are up to these days. Soccer season didn't start for another month. Most of them are probably focused on school and their other extra curricula. I miss them so much.

"Nice. You like to play soccer. I like running on a treadmill and lifting weights," he says, matter-of-factly. We fall into another wave of silence but it doesn't feel as uncomfortable as before.

Without thinking, I say, "Blake. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he says. We stop at an intersection and wait for the lights to change. I transfer my weight onto my good leg. In the distance, I can just make out CN tower looming over the city. The top of the tower is almost completely engulfed by the clouds.

"On Friday, at the party. Why did you and Todd start fighting?" Blake looks at the ground and then shrugs his shoulders.

"Um...what did Todd tell you?"

"Not much. He said that he wanted to smoke and you told him to do it outside. Next thing he knew was that he was on the ground."

Blake snorts. "Did he tell you that he nearly burned Aditi?" He falls quiet and walks across the road when the light finally changes. "Todd is a decent guy. He's really funny but a complete dickhead. He doesn't feel what people feel." It's a weird thing to say about your friend and I don't understand it. But what he says settles my nerves about coming with him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," I say finally. When we reach the other side, Blake runs up to the door of a small shop at the edge of the street and pulls open the door. A man is sitting beside the store, his mouth unshaven and clothes in rags. He reaches his hand up to me and despite my shyness, I kneel in front of him. "Hello," I whisper, pressing a bill into his hands. The man gives me a toothy grin but doesn't say anything. Smiling I get back up, coming to stand beside Blake who gives the man a quick nod.

"Welcome to the greatest coffee shop in the world," Blake beams, a wide grin spreading across his face. "This is Smith's," he adds. I look into the dimly lit café. The scent of rich coffee hits me as I step through the door. Round, dark chestnut tables are scattered across the hardwood flooring. A few of the tables are occupied by people, some are chatting quietly amongst each other while others are typing away at a computer. The brick walls are covered with vintage trinkets. There is even an old phone with a rotary dial mounted on one wall.

Blake gestures to one of the wooden stools that are pressed up against the bar. I hop onto the stool and take a peek at the glass case that is filled with sugary treats. Behind the counter, chalkboards line the wall, displaying the menu. In the background, I can hear faint music. French? "Isn't this where you work?" I ask, remembering him talking about it in English class. He nods and gives me a sheepish smile. Blake takes a seat on a stool next to me.

A short man with peppered hair pops up from behind the counter, making me jump and then giggle. The man is wearing a striped apron and gives me a toothy smile. "Are my eyes deceiving me or has Blake Rider finally brought a girl to my freaking café?" He has an accent that I can't place. His comment makes me grimace and I glance at Blake who is shaking his head.

Blake then runs his hand across his face, his lips twitching into a smile. "Smith, this is Moore...I mean Audrey Moore. She's a friend from school. Audrey, this is my childish boss, Mr. Smith."

I put out my hand and Mr. Smith shakes it vibrantly. "It's really nice to meet you," I say. It truly is. I already feel better about the whole Cynthia thing.

"It's nice to meet you too, Audrey Moore," he replies. He places his elbows on the counter. Putting his chin into his hands he says, "So, what's going on with you and Blake?"

"Smith, are you serious? She is barely a friend," Blake mumbles.

Mr. Smith laughs. "I can't help myself. I own a café that is full of gossip-filled teenagers the majority of the time. Besides, my Blake has finally gotten the nerve to bring a girl to said café. It's...it's beautiful." Mr. Smith then proceeds to place his hands over his heart.

"Ignore my boss. He has a habit of making things awkward for everyone," Blake says, turning to look at me. I chuckle nervously and rub my sweaty hands across my jeans. "She's new to the school. I thought I would show her your crappy café." Mr. Smith's mouth drops open and he widens his eyes dramatically.

"Not cool, man. Not cool," Mr. Smith whispers, mocking a look of anger. He turns to look at me with his warm hazel eyes. "So where are you from Audrey Moore?"

"I'm from Oakville. I moved here at the end of summer," I answer.

"You know Josh, right?" Blake asks.

"The tall basketball star?" Mr. Smith says, placing his hands on the counter and leaning forward.

"This is his cousin," Blake finishes.

"Ah. I see the resemblance," Mr. Smith says. I wrinkle my nose. Josh and I look nothing alike. "Anyways, what can I get you guys?" he says. I drag my gaze across the beautifully printed menu, trying to figure out what I want.

"Can I please have an iced tea?" I say, dumbfounded.

Blake whips his head in my direction, giving me a funny look. "Moore, it's freezing outside!" he explains.

I feel giddy from the smell of the coffee and slightly not myself. "But it tastes so good," I whine.

"Dude, she wants a cold drink. She's not asking to be shipped across the seven seas," Mr. Smith says with an eye roll, which earns him a glare from Blake.

"Can I please have a black coffee," Blake says.

"You're so boring," Mr. Smith says with a huff.

"And a cookie," Blake adds, making me grin. Mr. Smith starts preparing the drinks, humming to himself. "Smith, where's Laurel?" Blake asks.

"She went to get me some Chinese," Mr. Smith responds over the gurgling sound of the coffee machine. He must have seen a confused look on my face because he then says, "Laurel is the girl that works here." If she is as cool as Mr. Smith, I would love to meet her.

"Really?" Blake says, turning to look at me. I didn't realize that I had said that out loud. Embarrassed, I nod and look away from Blake. We sit quietly for a couple of seconds, listening to the chatter of the people in the café. It's so peaceful. I'm glad I took the chance and came with Blake.

"About the Todd thing," Blake says silently, carefully. "I keep telling myself what my mom used to tell me when I was younger. Life is too short to fuss and fight with your friends." He snorts slightly. "But it's kind of hard when you have to protect one friend from another friend."

My ears perk up and I forget myself for a moment. "John Lennon?" I question with a smile.

"What?"

"What you said about fighting," I say, getting excited and remembering the day when I heard Blake listening to Oasis.

"Yeah. Is it bad that I'm surprised that you know that?" he says, mirroring my excitement.

"No, of course not." I laugh. "My mom was a huge Beatles and Elton John fan. Plus, she loved all these 90s bands," I gush. For a brief moment, I forget that I am with someone I know so little of. I stop myself from telling him that I basically grew up on 90s music. I clear my throat before Blake can say anything. "You're mom's right, though. Life's too short to hold onto things that happened in the past." I choke it out because that's exactly what I am doing. "She's a smart woman," I whisper.

Blake is quiet. "Was a smart woman," he corrects. "My mom is dead. She died when I was 13." My heart skips a beat because he says it so easily. It's almost like he recites it before he goes to sleep, ensuring he could say it without displaying a sliver of emotion.

"I'm really sorry," I whisper. I want to tell him that I understand and ask him when it stops hurting. But I stay quiet, afraid that if I said anything that I would start crying. Again, I wonder how much Josh had told Blake about me.

Mr. Smith sets our drinks in front of us with a wide smile. Blake reaches into his pocket while I bring my bag onto my lap. "Don't worry about it, kids. It's on the house," Mr. Smith says, waving his hand at us.

Blake laughs quietly, his eyes dark. "Smith you can't keep handing out free drinks. You're going to go out of business." Mr. Smith hands Blake a cookie and busies himself with another customer. We sip our drinks in silence.

I'm almost done my iced tea when the bell over the door rings. A pretty tattooed red-head walks into the café. In her hands are two white plastic bags that read Wong's Place. "Laurel!" Mr. Smith waves. "You would never believe it."

Blake groans beside me and hunches over the counter. "I literally met her a few weeks ago, dude! She actually is just a friend." He had taken off his jacket and sweater earlier. Now every time he moves, I can see his back muscles strain under his black shirt. His sleeves are rolled up slightly and I can just make out the tattoo on his left forearm. I look away, feeling embarrassed for staring.

"What!" Mr. Smith howls, looking at Blake. "I'm allowed to make my best employee feel awkward sometimes, right?"

"Please stop," Blake moans but he's relaxed now like he's used to this teasing.

"What's up, bro?" Laurel says, setting the food down. "Who's the chick?" She nods in my direction.

"Audrey Moore," Mr. Smith answers. "She's Josh's cousin."

"Oooh, the hot tall dude," Laurel says, stretching her hand out to me.

"Fuck off, Laurel," Blake says, munching his cookie. I wince slightly at his words.

"What. I would be all over that sweet blonde goodness if I was younger," she says, closing her eyes and moaning slightly.

Blake gently tapping my elbow. "We're leaving, now," he says to Laurel, grabbing his jacket off the counter. "Moore? Would you like to leave?"

Maybe it is the sugar running through my system or the atmosphere of the café, to my surprise I say, "Rider, we are not leaving right now." He scowls at me but his eyes are dancing and it makes me happy.

Mr. Smith laughs his hearty and musical laugh. "I think Audrey is my new favorite person."

"I thought I was your favorite person," Blake scoffs, crossing his arms.

"I am great at reading people, you know?" Mr. Smith says, making a face and looking to Laurel for approval. "And Audrey is officially an amazing individual."

"This café is amazing," I mumble, sipping my iced tea, blushing slightly at the attention. Butterflies flutter in the pit of my stomach. There are people who are turning around to look at us, curious about the commotion.

"Oh my gosh. You should totally apply for a position here. Then we can make fun of Blake together," Laurel explains, trying to slap the back of Blake's head but he's too fast for and easily doges it.

"We just lost a few of our employees to college and would love the help," Mr. Smith adds.

"Hey, girl. Take an application form," Laurel says. She hands me a paper and winks at me. I think I like her. We head outside and the cold air slams against my face once again. I have to take a step back and I slam into Blake who is behind me.

"I'm really sorry. Again," I mutter. Bumping into Blake is starting to become a habit. He chuckles to himself but doesn't say anything. As we are walking back to school, I say, "Thanks for letting me come with you. Mr. Smith and Laurel are pretty cool."

"It's the least I could do. I was kind of a dick to you when we first met at the hospital," he says quietly. I want to tell him that he didn't do anything but then he adds, "Thanks for coming with me. Not everyone would, you know?" The way he says it makes my heart break for him. I want to hug him but I don't, thinking that it would be weird. I just keep walking.

"It's totally cool, Blake." I walk faster so I am ahead of him for a couple of seconds.

"And Audrey?" I stop and turn around, waiting for him to continue and listening to the city sounds. He's looking at the sky, searching for something I can't see.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for the cookies," he says.

|| Author's Note ||

Hello. What's up? New characters and hopefully some character development in this chapter. What do you think of Blake? Thanks for reading. It is much appreciated.

Stay frosty. :)