Tuesday morning's ritual was exactly the same as Monday's, only with a different outfit; black yoga pants and a button down shirt. I'd paired it with my white converse for the sake of convenience and didn't regret a single thing. Toby always parked miles away from the school's entrance, all in the name of keeping his beloved car safe.

"Day two and I'm already sick of this place," he moaned, carrying both mine and Nikita's book bags.

He was a true gentleman when it came to the act of chivalry and never let us ladies suffer when in his company.

"Correction; you're sick of Warren," replied Nikita, throwing him a stern glance.

"What's he done now?" I asked, mindful of their on again/ off again relationship.

A sigh fell from his lips, "Aside from faking a relationship with a girl? Moaning at me for not being more understanding? Breaking my heart?"

"It's his loss," I offered, kissing him on the cheek.

"I agree."

"But I feel awful. I know he's pressured by his parents. I don't want to force him into coming out when he's not ready but to fake a relationship for the sake of keeping his father happy? I'm not being unfair, am I?" he asked, genuinely seeking advice.

"I think he has a few things he needs to work through before he can commit to a relationship with you," suggested Nikita, attempting to soften his blow.

"Yeah...I just wish I didn't have to look at his gorgeous face every day. That definitely doesn't help."

Right as he said this, a football flew straight past our heads, landing a few feet ahead of us. The unexpected fright kick started my anxiety, giving me an overwhelming urge to shout.

"Watch where you're throwing that thing, asshole!"

The words were out quicker than I could comprehend, alerting Toby and Nikita of my growing rage.

"Maddie," soothed my frantic friend, encouraging me away from prying eyes.

It seemed my outburst caught the attention of many.

"Breathe, girl. Get a hold of it before it consumes you," she continued, forcing us both towards the bleachers, offering up a sense of privacy.

"They know I have a brain injury! How can they be so careless!"

"I know..."

"Don't they know a slight hit can be critical for me?"

"Maddison, this isn't you calming down," she scorned, though remained light-hearted in her need to do so. "Close your eyes and breathe, please."

I did as I was told, picturing myself on some secluded beach with my blue ball of peace. After a while, I felt much calmer, prompting the arrival of my guilt. I'd called Jake Mathews an asshole for no reason other than his need to misjudge a throw. I was the asshole.

"Better?" asked Nikita, rubbing both my arms.

Toby came rushing over, desperate to check on us. "Babes?"

"I'm okay," I ensured, running into his open arms.

Nikita came at me from behind, wrapping her arms around my waist in a bid to join our hug.

"I overreacted."

"You did no such thing," insisted Toby, pulling away slightly. "I told those boys off. They're all feeling pretty silly right now."

Nikita laughed, amused by his overprotective ways. "Shall we get going? The bell rang about two minutes ago."

"You good?" asked Toby, squeezing my arm.

I gifted them both a nod. "I'm good. That was pretty tame compared to usual. Thanks, Kee,"

"No problem."

She smiled and linked her arm through mine, directing us back towards the entrance. Her and Toby both walked me to English, offering me words of encouragement the entire time.

"Kick ass in there, baby girl," advised Toby, throwing me a wink.

Nikita was much more civilised in her motivational statement. "That was a minor set back and look how well you handled it? If you feel overwhelmed just take a moment to yourself."

I nodded. "Thanks, guys. You really are the best."

I headed towards class and spotted Ethan in an instant. He was sat at our table and smiled upon seeing me, offering up a simultaneous wave. I acknowledged his greeting with a warm smile before heading towards Jake and his posse, feeling thoroughly exposed on my approach.

"Jake?"

He turned his head at the sound of his name, though failed to keep his smile intact when realising it was me who required his attention.

"Maddie! I'm so sorry about before. I wasn't thinking."

"Please don't apologise, Jake. It's me who should be offering you one. I overreacted. I sometimes do that. Say things that I don't really mean."

"But I could've hurt you. Really hurt you," he insisted, looking genuinely distraught. "Kevin was supposed to catch it but-"

"Please don't feel bad," I pleaded, ignoring the crowd we had seemingly attracted. "I was wrong for calling you an asshole. I'm sorry."

He cracked a smile, holding his hand out in a peace offering. "We good?"

"We're good," I replied, shaking his hand and backing away on a sure smile.

As I approached Ethan, he shot me a questioning look and held out my chair for me. "You called Jake an asshole?"

I blushed bright red. "Yeah. I overreacted to something."

"What happened?" he asked, sounding strangely protective.

Before I could deny his kindness, Miss. Clark walked in, ready to start.

****

Throughout the lesson, I got the sense I was being watched. I did my best to ward off the overpowering anxiety bubbling in my stomach and eventually took to doing one of Caroline's self-help activities in order to do so. I mindlessly doodled hearts in the back of my notebook, concentrating wholly on the finer details. Some were basic, others were more in-depth and after about five minutes, I felt my nervousness shift. My drawings took up an entire page, reminding me of the importance of combatting my insecurities. Why hearts? No idea! It just worked.

"Discuss this in pairs. I'll give you twenty minutes."

What?

"You've not been following, have you?" asked Ethan, hiding a smile.

I was already at a disadvantage and actively choosing not to concentrate was a careless decision.

Keep it together, Maddie!

"Sorry."

"That's okay." He smiled, and so did his dimples. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Oh no.

"Umm...okay."

"Why do you draw hearts? I noticed you did it yesterday too."

I looked down at the page covered in amateur drawings and blushed, more than a little embarrassed by my childish ways.

"Oh, it's just something I do when I'm feeling anxious," I explained, fighting off the remaining flush on my cheeks.

"Is that something you suffer with? Anxiety?"

He seemed genuinely interested so I nodded, not wanting to lie.

"I'm not sure what you've heard about me?" I began, feeling now was as good a time as ever to explain my situation. "I was involved in a skiing accident ten months ago. I attained a pretty serious head injury and lost all my memories from the past two years."

His head tilted slightly to the left, seemingly shocked.

"All of them?" he questioned.

I replied. "Every last one."

Without saying anything, without looking away, he simply leaned over my notebook and drew a heart of his own, adding a crack to its centre. Was he insinuating what I thought he was? Was he heartbroken for my circumstances?

"I guess we'll just have to make new memories. Better ones." he suggested, offering me that signature smirk of his. The one that always made me feel sick–good sick.

In a moment of confidence, I reached over to his notebook and drew another mediocre heart. This time, I added rays to its outline and shaded the centre, taking far too much pride in my handiwork. I wrote 'New memories' underneath it and pulled back an inch, waiting for his reaction. It came in the form of him nudging my leg from beneath the table; something I was very much starting to associate with him.

****

"What lesson do you have next?" asked Ethan.

"Math," I replied, hanging back as a way of letting the crowd thin out. "You?"

He smirked. "Same. Please tell me you have Mrs. Hopkins?"

I laughed, tightening the straps on my backpack. "I do and better yet, I know where I'm going."

A blinding smile stretched across his face as he gestured for me to lead the way. Ethan had this amazing ability to make me feel consequential. Perhaps it was the instant connection we had? Or Maybe it was because I dreamt about him again last night. Only briefly but it was enough. We'd been watching TV together–Game of Thrones, I think. We'd undergone a serious discussion about the characters and it ended in hysterics. Quite literally. Ethan got so passionate in his debate that he started choking and coughing, spluttering like a frantic child. Again, our conversation had made me feel safe.

"Did you see her in class? She looked like a zombie!"

"She shouldn't really be here. She missed most of sophomore year."

"Right? Surely if she has no memory from the past two years, that makes her a freshman? She should've been kept behind two grades."

Ethan and I had yet to turn the corner but the voices echoed loud enough so that we could hear the unnecessary gossiping taking place. His gaze snapped to mine in an instant, though surprisingly, he didn't offer me pity. Thank goodness!

"Ignore them," he whispered, tugging on my strap.

I swallowed my hurt and nodded, choosing, instead, to take the highroad. One of the girls, Sophia Gilmore, had been a close friend of mine. She'd visited me at home a few times at the beginning but dropped off when my symptoms became intense. I didn't resent her for making that decision. I did, however, resent her need to talk about me behind my back in such a negative way. How would she know anything about my academic level? We weren't friends anymore.

Ethan made himself visible first, prompting all three girls to stop taking. They each shared glances of appreciation, no doubt scoring him out of a possible ten. Their greedy gazes were impenetrable, though my arrival to the scene certainly acted as a damp towel to their raging fires.

"Maddison?" asked Grace, clearly surprised to see me.

I waited for her to proceed but she didn't say anything. Not a single thing. I smiled as politely as I could and carried on walking, feeling Ethan not far behind me. Surprisingly, I wasn't angry towards their behaviour. I knew I deserved a place here. Sure, I processed things slower but that didn't mean I was unworthy. Did it?

"You okay, heart girl?" asked Ethan.

"Heart girl?" I questioned, turning to find him mere inches away from my face.

I could feel his breath on my cheek.

"Yeah, I figured that could be your new nickname. Because of all the hearts you draw."

I let slip an amused laugh. "It sounds like a superhero name."

"Well, you are super, duper awesome," he replied, as a matter of fact. "How about, hearts instead?"

I felt my face heating as a result of his insistence.

"Hearts is better."

I pointed to the door beside us, letting him know that we were here. Inside, I caught sight of Toby and waved, certainly not missing his acknowledgement of Ethan to my right.

"Would you like to sit with us or broaden your horizons?" I asked, turning towards my new friend.

"You," he replied, almost too quickly. "I'd like to sit with you." This time, it was his turn to blush.

I led him towards Toby, who had called dibs on a table closest the door. The place was large enough to house four and before I could so much as question who would be taking up residence in the spare seat, Warren Baxter came sliding in.

"Hey, guys."

Oh no.

Toby's face fell inches away from the ground.

"Hey Warren. Have you met Ethan?" I offered, attempting to keep the peace.

My best friend looked livid.

"I haven't. Nice to meet you, bro. You new?"

"Yeah, just moved here from Santa Barbra," explained Ethan, moving his gaze towards Toby.

As if only just realising they hadn't yet formally met, Toby straightened up and offered Ethan his hand. "I'm Toby. I'm glad you've been keeping my Maddie company in English."

Ethan instantly tensed, throwing a questioning look my way. "My Maddie? Are you guys together?"

At this, Warren laughed, far too amused by the notion. "Christ, no! Toby is-"

"Single," interrupted Toby, eyes alight with a burning fire. "Toby is single."

Warren looked hurt, though recovered from it well.

"Really? The last I heard, you were with some really hot guy."

"Yeah, I was," he sassed. "But then he decided to fake date someone else and left me looking like a fool."

"Maybe you just need to be more understanding," smirked Warren, knowing exactly which buttons to press when it came to getting Toby on side.

Humour always was his go-to tactic when working his way out of a sticky situation. Or so I was told.

"Why do I get the feeling these two have beef?" whispered Ethan, highly amused.

"Because they care deeply about each other but are both too stubborn to admit it," I replied, hiding a giggle when Warren went to grab Toby's leg from underneath the table but accidently got Ethan's instead.

"I feel I must warn you, Warren," he began, smirking my way. "You've got the wrong dude's leg."

"Oh, shit!" he stammered, pulling away in tandem. "What a way to introduce myself."

"I enjoyed it," ensured Ethan, softening the blow for the sake of Warren's ego. "Granted, I'd rather it have been Maddie feeling me up but beggars can't be choosers."

What the hell?

Toby and I both openly stared at Ethan; me in shock and Toby in delight.

"Alright, everyone! Settle down!" instructed Mrs. Hopkins, extinguishing any hopes I had of responding to Ethan.

Not that I knew how. With a tongue currently doubling as sandpaper, I assumed my ability to formulate actual words was a luxury long gone. My breathing intensified and that usual sick feeling I got when around him turned into full blown butterflies. Did he mean that or was he just being funny? I'd be willing to bet it was the latter. He probably thought that after hearing those girls talk about me in the corridor, I needed cheering up. That had to be it.

"The new guy is into you," whispered Toby, quietly enough so that nobody could hear.

I shook my head. "Hardly. We only met yesterday."

"So?" he scoffed. "Time means nothing when it comes to the matter of love."

I had to laugh. "Where did you get that load of crap from?"

He smiled in the face of my sass. "I made it up."

"Stick to science, babe!" I replied, tapping him on the knee. "And FYI, Warren Baxter is into you."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't I know it. The charming bastard is worming his way back in."

"But you love it really," I assumed, awaiting his reaction.

He sighed. "I just wish it didn't hurt so much. We're sixteen-years-old for crying out loud. It shouldn't be this hard."

I rested my hand on his thigh and squeezed down, feeling the pain he was experiencing. Toby was my best friend and a damn good person. Neither him, nor Warren were in the wrong, which made things more complicated. At least if they could hate each other, they could move on. But they didn't, which made things messy and left room for hope.

I thought of Ethan. Hope.

I could relate.

****

Hearts!! Ethan is so adorable!

What are your favourite nicknames to have/ give?