Chapter 8

"Look, I'm just not that into you, okay? It was fun at first and all, but I'm getting bored. I have better things to do than to sit around stroking your ... ego. Or anything else, for that matter. I really need to take this time and concentrate on my studies."

Any minute now icicles would start forming on her; her voice was so cold. He didn't know where the hell this was coming from. For the first time in months, Aidan wished Hayley wasn't the one person whose mind he couldn't read. He heard what she was saying, but the words just weren't making any sense to him.

"What the hell happened between last night and this morning that made you decide you were bored? You didn't seem to be bored with stroking my 'ego' last night, or me stroking yours for that matter."

Hayley didn't say anything. She just stared straight ahead, right through him. She knew that if she looked him in the eyes, she wouldn't make it through this. She had to make it through this. It was the only way she knew how to protect him.

"I'm really not in the mood for this. I'm gonna go." Hayley turned and walked back to her room. She couldn't let him see her cry. If he saw her cry, he'd know that she was lying and she wouldn't be able to save him. No matter how much it hurt, she knew this was the right thing to do.

"I wouldn't ask you to meddle if I didn't think they needed it. You know that." For weeks, Brandon had been doing his best to get Aidan out of the mood he was in. He wasn't the meddling type, but he couldn't stand to see Aidan hurting anymore. If Brandon thought Hayley honestly didn't like Aidan, he would just leave it alone and encourage Aidan to get over it and move on. But he could feel that Hayley still had strong feelings for him. Every time she was around Aidan (which would probably be a lot less often if Hayley could've managed it), Brandon could sense feelings of guilt, fear, and a deep sense of caring coming from her. The emotions from her were so strong they practically knocked him out every time he was anywhere near her. Hayley might pretend to be unaffected by Aidan's blatant hatred of her, but Brandon knew how much it hurt her. He knew she didn't want to hurt Aidan. If anything, he got the sense that she was trying to ... protect him from something. But how could treating him like crap possibly protect him?

"I've tried talking to her, but she doesn't seem to want to talk. I don't want to push her too hard. She doesn't want anyone to know it, but I know she's really upset about the break up. I don't think there's anything I can do to help her."

"Just try. They're our friends, Brigid. We have to do whatever we can." Brandon had no clue what Brigid was supposed to do to fix it. But surely she'd be able to, right? That's what Brigid did. She fixed things. Especially for those she cared about. What else were her meddling ways good for if not for making things right? But if she couldn't fix it, he didn't know what to do next. She was pretty much his last hope. Because, clearly, Brandon wasn't helping the issue. He'd tried talking to Aidan, but all he did was start swearing and storm out of the room. He really hoped Brigid could fix it.

"But I thought you liked him. You guys seemed so happy together. I don't understand what happened." Hayley didn't respond, she kept her eyes focused on her book. She couldn't remember anything that she'd read in the past 5 minutes, but she had to keep reading. If she stopped reading, she would look at Brigid. If she looked at Brigid, she might say something she'd regret.

"Look Hayley, Aidan is one of my closest friends. I hate seeing him hurt like this. Just tell me what happened. Maybe I can help."

The concern in Brigid's voice was like pouring salt on a fresh wound. Aidan and Brigid were the first people in ages they'd she let herself get close to and she was hurting them both. And she hated that. But this was the only way she knew to protect Aidan. She squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as possible, hoping she could make the tears go away; she couldn't let Brigid see them. But she already knew it would be impossible to do. Throwing her book on her bedside table, she grabbed her running shoes and laced them up as quickly as possible. She had to get out. Right now. This was too much for her to handle.