Warren looked down at his hands, fiddling with the straw in his drink—*this was awkward. So, so, painfully awkward—*Warren was used to awkward. His whole personality just screamed awkward nerdy boy. He didn’t try to hide who he was. He just was and that was that. But this, he couldn’t hide behind being any ‘nice guy’ or deflect it with his usual humor.

You were sitting together in the Two Whales Diner, sharing a plate of fries and sipping on milkshakes, a common scene for the two of you in recent weeks. Warren had been leaning back in the booth, chatting animatedly about some new piece of tech he’d been working on for a school project.

“And then, if I connect the circuits here, it should stabilize the output—”

And then you opened your mouth, asked what had been on your mind this whole time—”What are we?” And that has veered everything off course.

Because the truth was, yeah, he did go running to you whenever max shut him down. It was always like this. Him getting shut-down to watch the Planet of the Apes marathon with Max? He’d just go with you instead. Any one of his advances that were dashed, and you’d be there to fill in Max’s role real quick. And you got it, Warren was probably feeling hurt. But at the same time, why did it seem like you were nothing more than something—someone—to fall back on when Max didn’t recuperate? A backup plan.

Warren’s expression faltered for a moment, but he quickly masked it with a casual shrug. “What do you mean? We’re friends, right? Friends hang out.” And so do backup plans. Warren swallowed the lump in his throat, giving you a half-hearted smile. Whether it was intended or not, he’d made you his person to go to whenever Max shrugged him off. To lick his open wounds when he couldn’t.

Not that that made up for it.

Warren ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated, but not at you. “I… I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Yeah, I liked Max. I really did. But that’s over now. I’m not waiting around for her anymore.”