"God, your mother is a slag, isn't she?" Vance scoffed jokingly. "Maybe your father was much more of a slag; that's why he left!" You replied while hitting his arm slightly. You glanced at him and looked back at the math homework. He stayed silent. You heard him take in a breath before sighing.

"Don't—why would you say that?" He asked quietly. He moved away from you and got out of bed. "What do you mean?" You asked, puzzled. Furrowing your eyebrows and tilting your head, you stood up and followed him.

"Nevermind—I'm leaving," he muttered bitterly before getting his stuff and leaving your house.

— Friday, two days after.

"Hey-!" You blurted as you passed Vance in the hallway. He spared you a glance but walked a bit faster to his next class. Damnnit.

This was the second time this had happened. Hell, earlier in the week, he took the long way home instead of walking you! It'd happen all the time. Even if he did want you to say sorry, how could you if he avoided you like the plague?