Chlo,

Stop teasing me, I'd be back in an instant. Short message for now - I'm very busy lately. Not that I'm too busy for you, but I have less time to write much. Next time will be a longer letter.

Love you more than cookie dough ice cream.

That's a lot.

Mon.

"Chloe," William breathed, half as a greeting and half as a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted. "Why haven't you replied to my messages and why on Earth are you outside of my house at eleven o'clock at night?"

William stood, and it was when he struggled to gain balance that I realized he had been drinking. "That's a really nice dress."

"Oh, god." I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Should I call you a cab?"

"I caught a cab here," he said. For some reason, he found this amusing, a smooth chuckle breaking through the late night air. His cheek was red and shadowed from where it had been hit, and the corner of his lip looked like it was harboring a small gash. When I realized I'd been staring at his lips for too long I blinked rapidly to clear my head.

"Why did you come here, William?"

He gave a wry smirk. "Well, you see, I forgot you were out with Maddy tonight, and even though I rang the bell nineteen times, nobody answered. So I've just been waiting here."

"Thank God my parents weren't home," I muttered between my teeth. "You could have just texted me."

"Well, that's the other thing..." he said, rubbing his elbow. "I kind of smashed my phone."

"Smashed your phone?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. It was cold, and my skin felt awfully exposed. I hugged my arms around my chest.

"It was kind of a long story. Can I..." his voice trailed off as he looked up the driveway towards my home. "Can I come in?"

I couldn't exactly leave him on the street, and I wasn't going to wait outside any longer without a jacket. Not to mention, I was a little intrigued as to how he ended up at my house drunk in the middle of the night to begin with.

"Yeah."

I unlocked the gates and led him to the front door and into my home. I was busy turning on the lights when he started pacing, examining the furniture in the living room.

"No parents?"

"Not tonight," I said. Then I thought about the possibility of my father showering my mother with a luxury hotel. "Probably not until tomorrow, actually."

"That's unfortunate, I'd love to have a word with your father," he said, in a mock-business tone. Then he started going up the stairs.

"Will, where are you going?"

"Your bedroom," he called, continuing his journey.

"Why?" I took the stairs two at a time to keep up with him.

"Because I'm sick of trying to figure you out," he said. "Sometimes it's easiest if you just look at someone's bedroom."

"Well yours hardly had much personality," I said as I watched him walk down the hallway, too polite to start opening doors. I sighed, wondering why I was humoring him. "Third on the right. And if there's something about me you need to figure out, it might help if you just asked."

Being a particularly private person, I was surprised at how easily I'd directed him to my room. But, there was nothing in there that he could find, unless he started rummaging through my drawers or trying to hack into my laptop, and I doubted he'd go that far.

I followed him into my bedroom, which was as neat and tidy as I'd left it, my bed made up with perfectly orientated cushions and my surfaces clean, save for a few ornaments here and there. Will hesitated, examining the picture of Monica and I on my bedside table.

"Maddy was drugged tonight," I said when he didn't say anything.

"What?" he said, his attitude sobering.

"Yeah. The weird thing is she didn't even take a drink from anyone, the only drink I saw her have the whole night was one she'd ordered originally for me. And a glass of water, but I had some of that too," I said, speaking aloud. "It doesn't make sense. I guess there are two options, either she was trying to drug me and mixed up the glasses, or she was trying to drug me, but purposefully took it instead."

William, seemingly sobered at my words, now had a very thoughtful look on his face. "But why would she take it for you, why not just not drink it at all?"

"Told you it didn't make sense," I said, sighing and lowering down onto my bed so I could take off my shoes. "And then Mike was there on a job trial, which was weird, and when Maddy passed out he insisted on taking her back to his."

Will hesitated before sitting down next to me, his weight sinking the bed a little, making me flush red beside him as I started overthinking the situation. "Great. How did he show up anyway? I swear he manages to worm his way into everything."

"Well, he seemed to help Maddy," I pointed out, finally slipping out of my heels and tossing them in the rough direction of my wardrobe. "They seemed close."

"Any girl other than Maddy and I'd probably be worried," he said, his thoughtful gaze fixed on a photograph of Mon and I. "I still can't believe she was messing with drugs, whatever her intentions."

"Me either," I said with a sigh. "I mean, she really just seemed to want to hang out, without all that drama. And yeah, I was a little nervous she'd want to do something like that, but not like this."

Will remained quiet for a moment as I pulled the bangles from my wrist, walking over to my dresser and securing them in my jewelry box. "Do you want water or something?"

He shook his head and then kicked his shoes off so he could get into a comfortable position on my bed, much to my unease. I was mostly in disbelief that William Bishop was in my bed, and then there was the fact that he was clearly still tipsy.

"Do you want to tell me how you ended up here?" I asked. I perched on the very corner of my bed, tucking my feed underneath me without exposing myself in the dress.

"Well, yesterday was a huge fucking mistake," he said, playing with the tassels on a cushion. "Francis' father had a talk with my father, he wanted to get lawyers involved. And the school wants to have a meeting on Monday."

"Crap," I said. "I'd hoped everyone could keep their mouth shut."

"Well, they did everything but," he said. "It's a shit storm, and my father seems to think I did it to attack his business. We had a pretty huge argument, he wants me to take the rest of the school year off to intern in Europe instead, until the Greenes calm down."

"Wow," I said, taken aback by the extreme measures taken from one fight. "I mean Europe... that could be a great opportunity."

Will scoffed. "A great opportunity to be watched like a hawk until I can come back and do school again next year at some other stuck up academy. No thanks."

"I'm sorry," I said, the thought of Will leaving stirring dark feelings within my chest.

"Don't be sorry, it was my stupid decision."

"But I... I did cause the drama to begin with. I was the one who told Maddy that Lola told me about you and her, and then she told Francis and—"

"Chlo," he interrupted. "It's still not your fault."

I frowned. "Everything is my fault, I started this whole thing by blackmailing you and now I could have ruined your life."

"I think that's a little extreme. But, I wouldn't let him send me away anyway," he said with a reassuring smile. "And what did I tell you yesterday? It was a long time coming."

"I still played a part," I said with solidarity. Even inside with the heating going in my house it was still cold. I silently longed to climb into comfortable clothes and preferably into the bed which William was sitting upon. Even if it was queen sized, and I was sitting as far away as possible, it felt as if our proximity was so close I could sense his body heat.

"Well, I still don't mind," he said, his eyebrows raised and his eyes fixed on mine in a way that made my heart perform leaps and bounds around my ribcage.

"So what happened to your phone?" I asked, trying to keep the conversation going in order to prevent moments of quiet stirring between us. Those were the moments where my physical reactions were able to break through their controls, and I had to avoid them at all costs.

"I threw it out a window," he said casually. He ran a hand over his hair to move it off of his forehead, his skin bronzed against my white sheets. "But that wasn't until later tonight. I didn't reply to your texts on purpose, Chloe."

"Why?" I asked, only feeling a little hurt. I fidgeted with the hem of my dress.

"Because... I just needed some time away from you."

"You came to my house," I reminded him. Inside, my stomach was churning.

"It's complicated," he said, his eyes averting from mine. "When you just left yesterday... I don't know. I really could have used you there with me for a little longer. I wasn't ready to be alone again, I mean, it was a pretty big deal to let my emotions get the best of me like that and for you to just leave like it was nothing..."

I was quiet, my lips parting, but my mind volunteering nothing to say in justification.

"I mean, it was probably nothing, which is exactly why I needed time away from you," he concluded. "Sometimes I forget that all that's between us is a forged document and your revenge plan."

His words cut deep, a physical pain blossoming in my chest. And that's when I realized he was wrong. Through this month or so of fake dating, we'd developed a friendship. A completely complicated one at that, but for him to disregard it as nothing hurt. My words were quiet when I spoke them, as if turning them up to normal volume would break the fragile spell developing. "I'm your friend, Will."

"Then why would you still use it?" he asked. "Why do you always walk away when things get too personal for you?"

Too personal? That's not what I'd call it. No, I retreated when I started feeling things I definitely shouldn't. When I was pushing my control to its limits, and I needed to take a step back to realize the repercussions. When I spoke, my words were thick, and I was frustrated that there was a build-up of tears behind them. "Because of Monica, William. Because I'm doing this for her, not for me."

"So you're putting your life on hold for someone who is long gone?" he asked. Then he must have seen the vulnerability in my expression and he spoke again. "I'm sorry, that was insensitive, but I knew Monica too, and I know she wouldn't want you to distance yourself from other people just for her."

"What are you saying?" I didn't know what he was getting at. I didn't understand why he needed to make a big deal out of this, and why things couldn't just be simple.

"I'm saying, that even if this all started for some bullshit revenge plan, I care about you, Chloe," he said. "I've seen more than the robotic shit you try and put across, I've seen you solve problems on a computer like it's an extra limb to you. I've seen you put your best friend ahead of you even if she's not here to see it. I know you're lonelier than you let on, and without her you're still working out who you are."

"Will—" I tried to say, just to stop the words pouring from his lips and splitting me open, leaving me open and bare. But he cut me off and continued.

"That's why you need me, Chlo," he said finally. "You need me as more than just your puppet, because if you just keep yourself open to them, or even succeed in this whole plan, you're going to be left alone and empty and I care about you too much to let that happen. You need a friend, and you need to stop denying that I'm your friend."

The lump in my throat had solidified to the point that I couldn't form words, and I could no longer meet his gaze. The overwhelming instinct of retreating from the conversation, to flee like I always did, took hold. But, I had nowhere to go. We were in my own bedroom, after all.

He was making this too personal. Too close for comfort. But I knew he was right, and that's what made it most heart breaking. I really was alone. Monica really wasn't here with me. I couldn't stop the tears from spilling over.

And then Will's arms were around me in seconds, warm and strong and supportive, and for some reason it made it so much worse, a sob strangling my throat and the words tumbling from my lips. "I miss her so much."

One hand stroked my hair, and the other rubbed my bare back, warm against my skin in the low cut dress. The stark realization that I was alone, my best friend gone, was slowly diluted with the feeling of someone else there for me, someone holding me and telling me that I wasn't alone.

I felt so conflicted, one half of me screaming that I was weak and I was betraying Monica by falling prey to him, and the other whispering that I needed this. That I needed someone who knew the real me, someone who I could call a friend without lying to their face.

But, I still had to take him down. He'd contributed to some of Monica's downfall, and I couldn't let him be the only one left standing. Or could I? Could we reign together, our own kind of empire? Or could we just be. Just keep whatever we had going, a fake relationship for the rest of the year until graduation. Because he needed me too.

As soon as I could compose myself I pulled away, wiping my eyes and averting my gaze in an effort to hide my vulnerability. But he didn't let me. He tilted my chin with his forefinger so I was forced to look at him. "You're not weak because you miss her."

Why did he always know what to say? Why couldn't he have been the womanizing asshole I'd originally thought? Why couldn't it be easy to hate him?

"I know," I said, my voice feeble. "But I feel like I'm letting her down by doing this."

"Why?" he asked. "Chlo, Monica would want you to have friends—"

"It's not about having friends," I said, wiping my face again. "It's because it's you, William. You're on my list too. I'm supposed to be taking you down for doing this to her."

Silence. I could see the pulsing in his jaw as he stared me down, the scrutiny almost enough to have me squirming. "I thought I was protected."

"I lied," I said, my voice thick. "I've told a lot of lies for her."

"Still doesn't mean you have to do it," he said. "But if that's how this is then I think that leaves a pretty clear choice, Chloe. You have me or you don't."

I pushed my hair from my face. He was asking me directly to go against my list. Because he wanted to be friends with me. Because he cared for me. Did Monica come above that? Did she still come above everything, even if it meant being alone? Did it come above the fact that I was starting to care for him too?

I screwed my eyes shut, wishing darkness could take away the heart break and guilt I felt for letting down my best friend.

"I don't think I could lose you now," I said, my eyes still closed. I felt his hands wrap around mine, his thumbs rubbing against the skin softly. In that moment the list seemed insignificant compared to the hollowness left from Monica now being filled with something new.

"I couldn't lose you either," he murmured.

Maybe we'd only had this conversation because we'd both been intoxicated, not afraid to share our feelings. Or maybe it was because, after all the time we'd spent together, something really had changed. It definitely had. I shouldn't have let this get in the way, but it felt so right. So right to have him as more than just a piece in my plans.

I'm sorry, Monica. I love you, but I can't do this to him. To me.

When I did open my eyes, William was still beside me, propped against some pillows and looking as if he were seconds from falling asleep. I broke our hands apart and shuffled off of the bed.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his eyes following me as I walked towards my closet.

"I'm getting out of this dress," I said, my voice cracking as I laughed nervously. It felt weird to revert back to normal conversation.

William pursed his lips, as if trying to control a smirk, and I realized how my words could have come across.

"I'm going to pretend you're not biting back a heap of inappropriate retorts and go to the bathroom," I said, shaking my head a little as I left the room.

When I was alone, and the tears had dried, I wasn't left feeling stupid or ashamed of the emotion I had shared. Instead, I felt a strange sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. But, at the same time, a new pressure had been placed. My loyalty to Monica. It reminded me painfully that he was on the list for a reason.

I decided to shower, to wash off the remnants of tears and makeup from my face. By the time I'd changed into sweatpants and a shirt and retreated back to my bedroom, I saw that William had fallen asleep in the position I'd left him, his face calm, and small snores filling the silence of the room.

Waking him seemed unnecessary, considering I already knew he didn't want to go home. Not if he was arguing with his father.

I switched off the light and turned on the string of fairy lights above my bed instead so it wouldn't be completely dark. Then I paced to the opposite side of the bed and curled up in the space beside him.

Dedicated to woodlandic for being one of my favourite author's on this site. If you're after mystery/thriller I totally recommend Blaire's Body.

So, this chapter was one of my favourites to write. Do you think Chloe made the right decision? Thanks so much for reading

- Ann 💕