At one point during his first semester, he had been a bit embarrassed to be receiving a sort of allowance from his family as an adult out on his own. Definitely lucky, but a little embarrassed. Now, staring at the meager number in his bank account on his computer screen days after he normally would have gotten his allowance, Soul realizes exactly how lucky he was. And how easily numbers can make him want to vomit.

Maka leans over his shoulder, hand supporting her on the back of his chair, to see the damage for herself. "I really shouldn't have let you spend so much on me over vacation. If I'd have known your mother was going to do this, I never would ha-"

"Not like you could have predicted this. Besides, who's to say she's not just a little late?" He knows that isn't the case. This is clearly retaliation. Pretending like it isn't doesn't make the nausea go away, so why try to defend her?

Maka cocks an eyebrow at him, probably asking him the same question in her mind. "Are you going to be okay? I know you have your meal plan, so you won't starve, but you still have stuff you have to buy for yourself."

"I mean, I could get one of those fancy things people call a job." No laughter from her. He isn't a master of comedy. "But seriously, I'll be fine. Plenty of other people here work along with going to school. Shouldn't be that hard." He glances up at her, realizing she is still very close to him. There's another churn in his stomach, and he tries to attribute it to his financial situation and not her proximity.

"This isn't right," she says, jaw clenching now. "I don't understand how she could be like this. What does this mean for your tuition next year? Is she just going to cut any funding to you from now on?" Her hand clenches tighter on the back of his chair. "What will you do once this semester's over? Will she let you come home? I don't understand how some parents can be like this! They'd rather just lose their child than let them live outside their definition of 'normal'!"

Soul grabs her shoulder gently, tugging her back to the present instead of flying through future what-ifs. "Hey, things will be okay. I'll talk to Wes, he still seems to have my back." He doesn't quite believe himself when he says "things will be okay". But he's convinced if you tell the lie long enough, it might very well become the truth.

"There's only so much Wes can do though! Do you think he can talk sense into your mother?"

He shrugs. "Old lady's always been set in her ways. I doubt anything could change her mind if she's made it up." She looks like she's going to cry, and him trying to be nonchalant about it is probably only making it worse. He squeezes her arm reassuringly. "Look, I will be fine. Just gotta put in some hours at a job to keep me on my feet."

Maka straightens up, arms crossed over her chest in that stubborn thinking pose she has. A hand comes up to rub away what little tears still angrily threaten to fall. "Well one way or another, you're coming back this fall. Have you looked at scholarships at all?"

He shakes his head, prompting her to rub her forehead. "To be honest, my grades were less than stellar last semester. Might do better this time around since I know what I'm doing, but…"

"Okay, that's fine, I have a friend who works in the financial aid office. She's probably got details on pretty much every scholarship you can get your hands on. We'll see what you can qualify for. I'll help you job hunt, there's probably some openings around campus since people tend to drop at semester. That just leaves the summer…"

"I mean, I could possibly stay with Wes?" he suggests. "Although that might be too close to home. Wes has high hopes that Dad will come around, but I'm not sure about being that close to Mom..."

"What if I talk to Papa? Have you stay with us?"

Sure, have them be roomies. Watching TV together, eating meals together, sleeping with just a thin wall between them. In all seriousness, it sounds heavenly. Now if only he could get the old man on board, then it would be perfect. But despite Christmas going relatively well, after getting settled back in Nevada that is, Spirit still watched him carefully with pursed lips on the all of two occasions they decided to hang out at her place.

"Thanks, but I think I'd better look at some… more likely options."

She pouts but nods. Taking a seat over on the bed, she kicks her legs childishly while still contemplating Soul's predicament. "You still have the rest of the semester to figure out where you'll go for the summer, I guess," she sighs, defeated. "Looks like the job hunt begins now though, huh? I can certainly talk to Blake and see if there's any openings at Cloud Nine, but you might want to check out some other options in the meantime. Pretty sure I saw Subway had a sign saying they're hiring."

Soul grimaces, and she laughs. Introverts and fast food establishments just don't mix.

...

Soul begins to notice a strange quietness around the bathroom. It takes a few days for him to really become aware of it, but once he realizes it, the thought nags at the back of his mind. Could Kim have moved out? No, her laundry basket still sits next to the shower. It's entirely possible that the two lovebirds have moved their loud sex-capades elsewhere, like Jackie's place.

But Soul finally hears sniffles from the bathroom one day. Knocking softly on the door, he asks, "You okay?"

"Go away!" Hiccups echo off the walls.

His hand falls from the door, and he turns to lean against it. "I know you said the less we see of each other, the better, but… maybe you wanna talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Something thuds against the door. Probably a bottle of shampoo.

"I just know no one gets emotional over a purely physical relationship."

The door opens behind him, and he stumbles backwards, falling to the floor. Kim stands above him, make-up running and nostrils flared. "Did she tell you? She did, didn't she? That she was going to break up with me?!"

Soul clambers away from her to stand against the opposite wall. "Who, Jackie? No, she never even really told me you two were dating!"

The two stand in silence for a while, just staring at each other while Kim's fists clench and unclench at her sides. He can see the gears turning in her head as she tries to calm herself down, or at least try to make sense of this weird situation. Neighbors finally, truly conversing for the first time. Over a breakup.

She sniffs and violently wipes tears from her right eye with the butt of her palm. "I mean… I guess we never really were. Which I was alright with. Or at least I thought I was."

Eyes still lingering on the girl, Soul moves to sit at his desk, patting the bed for her to sit on as he passes it. "She alright with that? The whole 'never really dating' thing?" He can't help but feel like he sounds like Marie.

"No," she says, gaze shifting between him and the bed hesitantly before she gives in and sits down. "She wanted us to be something more." She fiddles with her fingers and concentrates on her breathing. "You ever been in love?"

He remembers how nice it was to have Maka sit so close while he poured out his heart to her via song. How right it felt to lace his fingers in hers. And the pang in his chest when she shuts down anyone who jokes about their relationship being anything more than platonic. "Maybe."

"It sucks. It's all you ever think about. You plan your days around the times you can see them the most, no one can make you laugh like they do, the sky is fucking bluer than you remember it being, and you know it's all her fault. It's like being high and getting punched in the gut at the same time, and I never wanted to feel so out of control. Never wanted to be a slave to the way I feel about people. And then she showed up and asked me to be vulnerable, and I…" Kim is crying again, the palm of her hand vigorously rubbing tears from her eye. "I really fucking love her, and she won't hear me out! Jackie won't answer her damn phone, and I know if I go see her, she'll go hide in the back room or something!"

"Back room?"

"She's at work right now. Her coworkers would probably lie and say she went home sick or something, I dunno, but they won't let me see her either, I know they won't." Her arm moves to wipe the snot from her nose, but she pauses. Realization flickers in her eyes, and she leaps up and over to the desk. "You got paper and something to write on here?" she asks, foraging through the drawers while Soul squawks next to her about "personal space". She finds a loose sheet of paper and pen and scrawls out some sort of letter he thinks. Finished, she folds it up and shoves it in his chest. "You can take it to her, can't you? She won't know you, it'll be perfect! You can just casually hand it to her, and then she'll have to read it!"

"Woah, I never agreed to be someone's messenger!"

"I'll owe you one, whatever you want. I just really need this, okay?"

He sighs. "Where does she work?"

"Subway." Unbelievable.

Soul pats his pocket once more, confirming that Kim's note is still safe. The Student Union is packed, not surprising at about dinnertime, although he's lucky enough that the line to Subway is fairly short in comparison to the other dining options. He recognizes Jackie from his math class last semester right away, her hair tied back in two low pigtails. Taking a deep breath, he takes his place in line and patiently waits for the girl to wait on him.

"Hello, what kind of bread would you like today?" she asks in an almost bored tone.

He stumbles to find some sort of answer. Hadn't been prepared for the trick questions. "I'm, uh, here for an application actually?" Two birds, one stone, he supposes.

Jackie cocks an eyebrow at him. "You realize we're still in the dinner rush, right?" He nods sheepishly. Sighing, she points to a group of booths across from the food stand. "Wait there, I'll bring you an app and a pen when I get the chance. You can just leave it here once you're done."

"Thanks a lot," he says, sliding Kim's note across the counter to her with a shaky hand. Before she can say anything, he escapes to the booths, finding a seat and burying his face in crossed arms on the table. Why him? Why hadn't Kim helped him figure out an attack plan beforehand?

He sits there for a while, consumed with thoughts on how stupid he must have looked, when someone taps him on the shoulder. Jackie, armed with the application and pen she'd promised. Setting the items down in front of him, she asks, "Mind if I take a seat? I'm on break now."

Soul shakes his head and motions to the bench opposite him. As she sits down, he waits and watches for a sign she wants to engage him in conversation. Instead, she flips through her phone, and he's pretty relieved. Now on to a more daunting task than conversation: job applications.

"You're the one next door, aren't you?" She startles him.

"Yeah, uh, remember me, huh?"

"And from math last semester. I only remember a little, but yes, I remember." Her eyes are still glued to her phone screen, avoiding his gaze. "Then you know Kim."

He nods. "Sorry. She said you wouldn't answer her calls or see her in person, so…"

"Not much to talk about, so why bother?"

Humming, Soul returns to his application. The first section is pretty easy. Job hunting isn't so bad, he could do this in his sleep. "You read it then?" he presses, filling in the information.

"I don't know that I'd be sitting here if I hadn't. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say. I tried talking to her about this before, and she just found ways to avoid it. And now I'm supposed to assume she really means it when she says she can commit? How do I know it's not just pretty words and begging just because I'm taking things seriously?"

"I mean, she was sobbing, saying that she really loves you. She seems pretty heartbroken over it, I'd say she's taking it pretty seriously now, but you can do with that what you will." He sounds like an ass, and he knows it. But he's just the messenger who wasn't given any time to prepare, just supposed to leave a note, fill out an application, and figure out his own feelings while trying to sleep before the bad feeling surrounding Christmas return.

Jackie's eyes flit between him and her phone, words forming on her lips but never really leaving them. An alarm on the phone chimes, signifying the end of her break, and the girl scoots out of the booth without another word about the subject. "You can hand your application to anyone once you're done. Thank you for your interest in joining the Subway team." With that, she's back to the stand, disappearing behind the counter.

His gaze lingers on her a moment longer, sad eyes watching her hand brush away what he assumes is tears. It's supposed to be easy, right? Love? Especially when you and someone else feel it together. But maybe it's just the falling part that's easy.

Shaking his head, he refocuses on the application. Job history and references, no friends. Ah, there's the anxiety Soul had assumed would come with filling out job applications. Living the rich life meant never having to worry about work until he was an adult. Or more of an adult than he is now, technically. Now what if that prevents him from getting a job? Sure, Wes has his back, and maybe some money to spare, but he doesn't want to rely on him, doesn't want to be more of a burden on his family than he clearly already is. He takes a deep breath, trying to settle his thoughts. Maybe he'd be better off taking a break and bringing his app back later, what with the day he's had. So he folds up the sheet neatly and heads for home.

….

"Honestly, I'm not surprised she cut you off," Wes says over the phone with a frustrated sigh. "I had a feeling something was up. Dad's been stopping by my place a lot. He's seems really hesitant to go back home when he leaves."

Soul flops back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. "What's… he got to say about all of it?"

"You're his kid, boy or girl. He doesn't quite get it, but he talks about you a lot. Like I thought, he's coming around. Feels like he didn't take the time to know who you were really becoming in high school, you know?" It feels like the understatement of the year, but Soul doesn't comment on it. "Don't worry about him. Mom's a handful, but Dad can tough it out or do something about it."

"Didn't mean to wreck everything…"

It's quiet on Wes's end a moment as he mulls over the situation. "If it's honesty hour, I think everyone's relationship with Mom has been strained for a while. Both of them always pushed us as kids, but I remember always being terrified of letting her down. It usually didn't end well if I did. You haven't wrecked things. Maybe this is actually all for the best, make us all reevaluate things, and we just gotta wade through the shit for a bit until it all clears."

"Maybe." He wonders how long the wading has to last. With a sigh and an arm flung over his eyes, Soul continues, "It's been a long day, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Um… thanks, Wes. For everything."

"Brothers gotta look out for each other. Sleep well."

"Thanks, I'll try."

The moment he hangs up his phone, there's a banging on his door. Hesitant to get out of bed but crossing the room anyway, he doesn't recall expecting any guests or being loud enough for confrontational neighbors. Maybe Kim had returned to her room and wants to talk? He opens the door to find Maka in the doorway instead, backpack slung over one shoulder and sleeping bag tucked under her other arm. "Surprise!" she exclaims. "You said we should have another sleepover sometime, and tonight was the perfect opportunity to get away!"

Soul can't get a word in before she makes herself at home, dropping the sleeping bag in the middle of his floor. "Thought your mom was in town?" he finally speaks up.

"Just left actually. Without her there, I didn't wanna be around, so… here I am! I mean, it's not like we haven't had impromptu sleepovers before?"

His thoughts drift to Kim and Jackie. This must be how Jackie felt, at least to some extent. Being alone with someone all the time, having feelings for them but never having them returned, spending night after night together, even if it is in very different ways. It's all too much. He can't bear to keep it all inside anymore.

"Papa's always a wreck after Mom comes to visit," Maka says, stretching her arms up and over her head. "I can't stand seeing him mope like that, like he's forgotten that it's all his fault to begin with. Anyway, I brought my sleeping bag this time, so you can sleep in your-"

"You can't stay here anymore!"

She turns toward him, mouth slightly open, to find him standing with his head down and fists balled at his sides. His whole body is tense, shaking slightly, but not in a threatening way.

His voice cracks when he says once more, "You can't stay here…"

Her hands wrap tightly around her bag's strap. "Why not? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, it's not that!" he replies, shaking his head violently. "I just… I can't…"

"Soul?" Her hand reaches out for him, but he backs away instantly, refusing to look at her. "Soul… Whatever it is, I'm really sorry. Just tell me what you want, okay? Whatever you say, I'll do it."

"You don't get it! What I want doesn't matter!" He can feel tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he finally looks at her. Her brows are furrowed in worry, and all it does is frustrate him more. "You know what I want? I wanna hold your hand and never let go. I wanna listen to you complain about your day while I play with your hair. I wanna sleep next to you at night, and I wanna love you the way you deserve to be loved, but I can't because-" His face is hot and wet with tears, and all he wants to do is run and hide. This wasn't supposed to happen this way. Maka was never supposed to know. "So you… you can't stay here."

A pin could drop and they both would hear it. He wants to look away, shut his eyes tight and wish her as far away from him as possible. Or scream at her to stop looking at the floorboards and jump head-first into the unknown with him. But all he can do is stare at her and wait patiently for her to respond as she fidgets with her shoulder strap. His chest feels so tight. He'd be willing to accept rejection right now if it meant the tightness would go away.

"I… I see. I'll... just be on my way then." Maka grabs her sleeping bag from the floor and whirls towards the door, hand lingering on the handle for just a moment before leaving. The door doesn't close all the way behind her, and he can hear her footsteps running down the hall.

He's a bad liar. Her rejection is not accepted, and the tightness in his chest doesn't go away. Locking the door, he slides down against it to the floor and grabs fistfulls of his hair. It's all ruined. All of it. His grades, his family, his closest friend. Everything. The idea that people can change almost makes him want to laugh. He will always find a way to ruin everything that is dear to him. Once a screw up, always a screw up.

He leans forward, slamming his fists on the ground.

Why couldn't you just keep your mouth shut?

His pencil bag hangs out of his nearby backpack, and he flings it across the room. It isn't closed all the way. Writing utensils fly everywhere.

You really thought she'd like you back?

A book thuds against the bathroom door. The CD holding Maka's song hits the wall, cracking the case. He lets out a howl of anger. Someone is banging on his door again. Kim's voice calls out his name from the other side.

You're disgusting, and no one will ever love you.

He slams one fist on the floor again, the other he bites down on. The bathroom door flies open, and suddenly Kim is kneeling on the floor next to him. Whatever questions she's asking him, Soul doesn't seem to hear.

It's all over.