The treehouse was thick with a silence that made every word heavier than it should be. Inside, the warm lights cast shadows, but none of it was comforting, especially with Alex leaning against the counter across from me, looking irritated and detached as he took a drink from his beer can.

"How do you always end up in some kind of mess, Evelyn?" he muttered, more to himself than to me.

I crossed my arms, feeling defensive. "Excuse me? I didn't ask for that creep to corner me," I shot back. "Maybe you could show a little bit of understanding instead of standing there like I'm the problem."

He looked at me, his expression unreadable but his voice tense. "Look, I'm just saying, if Max gets dragged into something because of this, it's on you."

I blinked, completely taken aback. "On me?" I scoffed, anger flaring. "You don't actually believe that. Max punched him because he chose to, not because of me. And why are you suddenly so invested in telling me what's my fault?"

He shook his head, his voice low but biting. "Max wouldn't have jumped in if it weren't for you. It's obvious he likes you, and you... you lead him on just enough to keep him there. Then you pull away like it's nothing."

I felt a sting at his words, my cheeks burning as I struggled to stay calm. "You think I'm leading him on? Max is my friend, Alex. I'm not responsible for how he feels about me, and I'm not the one who started a fight."

Alex's jaw tightened, and he set his drink down, finally looking directly at me, his eyes intense. "Yeah? Because you don't think twice about how he might feel. You just want to look good, to keep everyone close without thinking about what that means to them." He exhaled sharply, frustration clear on his face. "It's like you're only in it for the attention."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Why are you even saying this?" I shot back. "For weeks, we've actually been getting along, and now you're accusing me of caring only about appearances? You're the one who's been avoiding me, treating me like I'm some stranger."

He shrugged, his expression still distant. "Maybe I am. Maybe it's just hard to tell what's real with you."

His words hurt more than I wanted to admit, but I refused to let him see that. "Fine," I said tightly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Think whatever you want. It's not like you've cared much about figuring me out anyway."

I turned away, crossing the room toward the bed in the corner, wrapping myself up in the blankets to try and shut him out. The dress I'd worn, so carefully chosen for tonight, suddenly felt flimsy and uncomfortable. But before I could settle in, I heard him moving, felt the warmth of an extra blanket he draped over me without a word. I glanced up at him, our eyes meeting for a fleeting second.

He didn't say anything, just turned back toward the door. I watched him walk out, my mind reeling from everything he'd said.

Alex grabbed the edge of the blanket I'd wrapped myself in, pulling me closer until we were both huddled together, covered by the same piece of fabric. The nearness made it hard to breathe, but I kept my composure, though my voice almost gave me away when I said, "You know there are more blankets inside, right? You don't have to hog this one."

He gave a soft, lopsided smirk. "This one's perfect. Besides, sharing makes it warmer." His voice was casual, but the way he looked at me - like I was the only person in the world right then - felt anything but casual.

I shifted, feeling the tension in the air, and finally asked, "So... why the disguise? Why not just be yourself?"

Alex leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze drifting over the darkened landscape. "It's easier, I guess. Sometimes it's nice to just be... someone else," he said quietly, as if admitting it to himself. "No one expects anything from you if they don't know who you are."

There was something vulnerable in the way he spoke, and I softened. "Then why did you keep coming back as him?"

He hesitated, then let out a chuckle, his eyes catching mine. "It was supposed to be just for a bit of freedom... but then it got complicated."

I raised an eyebrow, nudging him. "Complicated how?"

A small, almost shy smile appeared on his face. "I met this girl," he started, glancing at me, his eyes warm but cautious. "Totally crazy, honestly. Followed me into the woods the first time we met. Who does that?"

I laughed, trying to ignore the growing warmth in my chest. "Sounds like she's a little wild."

"Wild is an understatement," he murmured, looking back toward the trees. "But... she has this way of making everything feel lighter. Like I can just exist, talk, not worry so much." His gaze settled on me. "You make it easy."

That admission was like a small spark between us, and I was the one who broke the silence, unsure if my heart was racing from the cold or... him. "I guess I make good company, then."

He laughed softly. "You have no idea."

The words hung between us, the air charged with something I couldn't define. I looked away, suddenly needing to fill the silence. "So... if you think I'm so great, why were you so harsh about me and Max?"

Alex rubbed his neck, almost sheepish. "It was stupid, I know," he muttered. "I thought... I thought you were different. I thought you were real. And then... I thought maybe you weren't."

I looked at him, surprised. "Why would you think that?"

He sighed, frustration flickering across his face. "I guess I just got caught up in my own insecurities. I thought maybe... maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see. And then, the whole thing with Max... I don't know, it was easier to assume the worst."

I was quiet, absorbing his words. "So... you just assumed I was like everyone else?"

He turned to me, the regret in his eyes clear. "I was wrong. Completely wrong. You're not like anyone else. And honestly? I didn't expect you to get under my skin like this."

His honesty struck me, and all the frustration I'd felt melted a little. "Well, for the record," I said softly, "you're not like anyone else either."

We shared a lingering look before he cleared his throat, a hint of a smirk returning. "So, about Max... is he the lucky guy?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "No, not even close."

He tilted his head, pretending to be deep in thought. "Then... is there someone?"

I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms in mock defensiveness. "Maybe."

He looked both amused and annoyed, leaning a little closer. "Are you ever going to give me a straight answer?"

"I don't know," I teased, biting back a smile. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Because I hate mysteries, and you... you're impossible to figure out."

I grinned, enjoying this rare look of genuine curiosity from him. "Good. Maybe you'll stay interested long enough to try."

He let out an exasperated groan. "I'm pretty sure you're doing this on purpose."

"Maybe I am," I said, unable to keep from laughing at his frustration. He raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself.

"Alright," he said, giving me a challenging look. "Then I'm just going to guess until I get it right."

I raised my hands in surrender. "Go ahead, knock yourself out."

He started listing names, each one more ridiculous than the last. "Is it Thomas? Or... Dan? No, wait, definitely not Dan. Maybe it's James?"

I couldn't stop laughing, shaking my head as he continued to throw out every wrong answer possible. Finally, when he'd exhausted nearly everyone we knew, he looked at me, his eyes narrowing.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

I just gave him a sly smile. "What do you think?"

We both dissolved into laughter, the last bit of tension between us fading. Eventually, as the laughter died down, we drifted back inside, settling onto the bed. The conversation slowed, turning into a quiet exchange of thoughts and memories, as if we were the only people in the world.

In the warmth of the blankets, with him so close, I felt my eyes growing heavy. Just as I started to drift off, he asked, "So... you really won't tell me who you like?"

I looked at him, barely awake, and whispered, "Maybe someday."