“Wow,” Adam says dryly. “Not even enough brain capacity for a Heathers reference.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, fag?” Bryce spits, and my whole body is lit on fire.

“What’d you call me?” Adam clenches his jaw, stepping to Bryce, but he doesn’t have time to do anything else because before I know it, I’m between them, staring Bryce down like I can liquify him with my gaze.

“Yo, Michaels, what gives?” Bryce reels back a bit and the anger is cut from Adam’s blue-yellow surprise mixed with Bryce’s instant spike of panic. Even with their emotions making war in my chest, I’m so angry I could beat Bryce into the ground.

“What the fuck did you just say to him, Bryce?” I growl.

“Chill, man, jeez,” Bryce says, putting up his hands in a mockery of innocence. I can practically feel his pulse alongside my own, beating frantically with the fear that comes from stepping into something you’re not sure you can get out of.

“I can handle this, Caleb,” I hear Adam say. He’s defiant and fucking furious, and for once, it doesn’t do anything to my own emotions. I’m so mad I can barely see the green.

“Yeah, but now I’m handling it,” I say to Bryce’s face.

“Oh yeah?” Bryce sneers. “How exactly are you handling it, Michaels?”

Don’t punch him. It will not be worth it. Just … talk him down.

“Look, Bryce, I’m sorry you hate yourself, but you don’t need to take that out on someone who’s minding his own business. Just go to therapy like the rest of us.”

Way to go, Caleb. Now everyone knows you’re in therapy.

A flash of anger bursts out of Bryce’s nervousness and then the whole thing is smothered in self-loathing sludge.

“Whatever,” Bryce huffs, stepping back. His feelings are all over the place, jittery and sharp. I reach out for Adam’s feelings—for that sense of belonging—and find a boiling sea.

“God, Michaels, you’re so dramatic.” Bryce forces a laugh. “See you around, losers.”

There’s no sting to his words—just a deep, permeating despair that makes me almost pity the guy. Bryce swaggers away with a speed I wouldn’t have thought possible for a swagger. I take a deep breath and turn around to face Adam.

He looks pissed.

Wait, he looks pissed. I reach out to find the emotion to match his face and hit that wall I haven’t bumped up against since that first lunch. What the fuck?

“What the fuck, Caleb?” he asks, crossing his arms.

“What do you mean?” I bite back. “I just saved you from getting your face beaten in. Again.”