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I shrugged. “No reason, really. Boredom? That seems right. It was one of those long months where I wasn’t allowed to leave my bedroom. I learned French and some Russian as well.” Before the guys could assault me with more questions, I hurried to ask, “and you guys? Tell me how you became friends.”

They exchanged glances, seeming slightly wary, before turning towards me. Under their combined stares, I felt suffocated, but not in a bad way. One could relish in their attention.

“We go to school together,” Asher replied oh so helpfully. I rolled my eyes.

“Kind of knew that. But how did you become friends? You’re all so different.”

At this, Ryder chuckled.

“Is that a bad thing, Kitten?”

“Just shut up and answer the question.”

“To be completely honest, we were kind of forced,” Asher said with a chuckle.

“Forced?”

If I wasn’t mistaken, though I usually was, that did not seem like the ideal making of any friendship. Granted, I wasn’t an expert or anything, but friendship should be a natural bond between individuals, not two dolls pressed together while a child screams “kiss”.

“Yeah,” Ryder said, taking over the story. I was beginning to understand that Ryder liked being the center of attention. I couldn’t decipher if this was because of his vanity or something else. Something deeper. Perhaps he didn’t even realize he did it, like an innate need inside of him to be seen and be heard. “At our school, we are put into groups based on our talents and goals. We work with these people throughout the years. It’s kind of inevitable that we would become friends.”

I considered his words thoughtfully. What type of school did they go to?

“It started off with just Ashy and me,” Ryder said, ignoring Asher’s grumble not to call him “Ashy”. “We were already friends before they paired us up.”

“We lived in the same foster home,” Asher explained. I lifted an eyebrow but didn’t ask him to elaborate. I understood too well about pasts. The good, the bad, and the macabre. I didn’t know the reasons for such a placement, and I didn’t ask. They would tell me if they wanted to. The more you pressed, the further you pushed people away.

“Asher was the annoying twat that always followed me around,” Ryder said with a smirk.

Asher groaned. “You were bigger than me, and I thought that meant you were cooler.”

I couldn’t help but laugh with the rest of the guys. Asher was adorable, even when he whined.

“I still am bigger than you, at least in the departments that matter.” Ryder wiggled his eyebrows.

“Was he a pervert as a little boy?” I asked no one in particular. I couldn’t help but picture a ten-year-old Ryder hoping to catch a peak underneath a woman’s skirt.

“I am not a pervert,” he huffed indignantly. “I just like women.”

“Too much,” Tam muttered.

“Back to the story!” I said, clapping my hands together. I knew there were other things I should be thinking of - like the virus or drug or whatever the hell it was, and the tornado that may or may not hit at any moment - but that all felt like a distant memory rather than reality. A nightmare. I was good at suppressing unwanted thoughts, though I knew how unhealthy that practice was. Fortunately - or was it unfortunately? - it seemed as if the guys had adopted the same defense mechanism.

“We were taught together,” Ryder continued. “Worked together. Did everything together, pretty much.”

“I don’t understand how these groups work,” I admitted. “Are they common in schools?”

“That’s complicated to explain,” Asher answered.

“But-” I was interrupted by the vibration of my phone. Startled, I practically leapt three feet into the air, an uncharacteristic squeak leaving my mouth. Ignoring the laughter of the guys, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. In all honesty, I had completely forgotten about it. Why would I need a phone when the only people I had to call were my parents? For the most part, the piece of technology was left unattended and forgotten in a bedroom drawer. I had grabbed it this morning on the off chance the guys wanted to exchange numbers.

Hearing it said aloud - or at least in my thoughts which were probably still aloud - made me feel pathetic.

Bastard:Where the hell are you?

“Who texted you?”Declan signed, attempting to peer over my shoulder. I flicked his ear.

“Don’t be a nosey shit,” I said, but my attention remained focus on the phone. Damn technology and damn my father. My lips turned down in a frown.

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