"Ally, are you okay?"

I turned to look at Trish and nodded, swallowing. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Trish raised an eyebrow and gave me an uncertain look. "Really? You don't look fine to me."

"How so?"

"Well," she began, leaning backwards and folding her arms. "you're sweating and you keep nervously shifting in your seat."

Sighing, I brought a hand to my forehead and wiped the sweat off. She was right. I was nervous. I clenched my hands and closed my eyes for a brief moment. "It's...it's Austin."

"What happened?"

"He's not in school today," I said. "I knocked on their door but no one was home. The door was locked. No one was answering. Mimi's car was gone. He's not answering any of his texts or calls—"

"Ally, it's okay," Trish interjected, putting a hand on my arm. "Austin probably felt sick or something."

"But why isn't he answering his phone?" I frantically asked. I ran a hand through my hair and fiddled with my fingers. "I'm just worried about him."

"Why? There's nothing to worry about! Austin's finally happy, right?" She spared me an encouraging smile.

I shook my head in disagreement. "He's...he's happy around me. I mean I guess. It's just that when he smiles, I know it's genuine but I can clearly see pain behind it."

"What are you saying?" Trish asked.

My head pounded. "Austin...Austin is happy to be with me but I don't think Austin is happy in general. He's still the quiet and reserved guy he was when I first got to know him. He spares me smiles and he...he really cares about me. I'm just worried."

"What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know," I said with a sigh. "His father, maybe?"

I took out my phone again and dialed his number, my eyes darting around the classroom to see if the teacher was in yet. He was not and Austin didn't reply. Frustrated, I checked my texts, only to see that he hasn't replied to any of them. I felt dread fill my body, the kind of dread I felt when I was informed that Austin was in the hospital. I squirmed in my seat and took deep breaths. He was okay. Austin was okay. Trish was probably right. Maybe he was sick and he was just sleeping.

But why didn't call or text me?

"God, I hope you're okay," I whispered.

The teacher walked into the classroom and soon enough, he was explaining a lesson to the class but I couldn't concentrate, no matter how hard I tried to. My eyes locked with Leslie and I wrinkled my nose when I remembered the last conversation we had.

She smirked. "Why so nervous? Sad that your boyfriend isn't at school today?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a flat look.

She leaned in closer. "What if he's having the time of his life now? You know, being away from you and being with someone else..."

I looked at her, unfazed. "Piss off, Leslie."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from me and I did so, too. I buried my head in my hands and sighed, drowning out the teacher's words and focusing on an image of him.

I seriously hope you're okay.

"Alison!"

I jumped in my seat, my head snapping upwards. I locked eyes with stern ones.

"Crap," I muttered, my face flushing.

"This is a surprise," the professor said. "I've heard a lot about you this year."

(I barely did anything, I swear.)

A few snickers went around and I blushed harder.

"Getting detention, skipping detention, and now not paying attention in class?" he sneered, folding his arms.

Please stop talking to me.

"Detention after school," he firmly said. "And you won't skip this one."

My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to say something but his gaze stopped me. I quickly nodded and sighed in frustration when he turned back around. Leslie shot me a smirk and I rolled my eyes, folding my arms and sinking deeper into my seat.

"Great," I flatly muttered.

When the bell rang and it was time for lunch, I raced out of the classroom. I struggled to grab my phone from my bag. As I fumbled, I hoped that Austin would have at least replied to one of my texts or called me back. When I finally found my phone, I turned it on but my heart sank in disappointment.

Nothing.

Alex was back in New York and I did not have Mimi's number. Sighing, I texted him again: Are you okay?

But he wouldn't reply at all.

Soon enough, I found myself in detention. The teacher sat in his chair, fingers interlaced, an amused smirk on his face. The only sound I could hear was the fan rotating around. Not many people were in detention. Out of the small group, I could only recognize Dallas. I shifted in my seat and played with my fingers, remembering the way Austin did. It never ceased to make me blush and my heart to warm.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I looked at Dallas and gave him a curt nod, turning back around. The teacher wouldn't stop watching us and I was itching to check my phone. My eyes locked on the clock above the board.

An hour left.

I clenched my hands and inhaled deeply.

The teacher stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom." He pointed a stern finger at us. "No one move."

I swallowed, relief washing over me. He walked to the door, opened it, and was finally out. I grabbed my bag and took out my phone.

My breath hitched when I saw that Austin had texted back to my last message.

However, my eyes widened and something twisted in my gut as I read his text. It just amazed me how one word could really have an effect on you. I gripped the phone tighter, my breaths coming out hasty. I could feel Dallas' eyes on me but I could only keep them focused on Austin's text.

No.

He wasn't okay.

Without hesitating, I shoved the phone in my bag and hastily stood up, the chair scraping against the floor and making an unpleasant sound. I could feel all of their eyes on me but I didn't care.

I had to get out of here before the teacher came back.

So I did.

Before I knew it, I was running out of the school, my legs carrying me fast. The bag jumped with each fast stride I took. I didn't have a car and everyone was gone. I didn't have time for anything. I didn't even have time to think. I was running home now. I was running to Austin. I tried to push away every bad possibility about why Austin wasn't okay. Around me, he seemed happy, but I knew he wasn't fully happy. I knew that. I really did and I was worried.

When I got to Austin's house I was heavily panting. I felt nauseous from the entire running I did. I swallowed and walked up the path that led to their front door. I had a bad feeling in my stomach and I hated that.

"He's okay," I whispered. "He's okay. He has to be."

I knocked on the door but to no answer. I couldn't be patient in a situation like this. I noticed Mimi's car was still gone and I hoped Austin hadn't taken it. I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it and to my relief, it was unlocked.

"Austin?" I called out, closing the door behind me. I dropped my bag onto the floor and climbed the stairs. My eyes locked on his closed door and I took faster strides but it felt like the door kept getting farther away from me. When I was finally at his door, I took a deep breath and opened it. The first thing I noticed was that there was a familiar stench.

My eyes widened.

Alcohol.

Austin was sitting on his desk chair and I noticed the can of beer next to him. I didn't know where the others were. With a wild heart, I approached him.

"Austin?"

He didn't move or stir but he was conscious. I folded my arms and got closer. His knuckles were bleeding and I noticed new bruises forming. In front of him lay a picture of him and his dad. Austin looked to be sixteen or seventeen. My heart plummeted. The glass was shattered.

His hand reached for the beer but I grabbed it before he could.

"No," I cried in frustration. "You can't do this. You can't go back to this. You can't. I won't let you."

His hand retaliated and I threw the can away. I reached for his hand and gently clasped it, careful of his wounds.

"I know...I know you miss him."

Austin closed his eyes. "It's not just that." There was a slight slur to his words and I pushed the thoughts of him in the hospital away.

"Then what is it?" I asked. "What's going on? Why do you...why do you keep doing this to yourself? Why do you keep hurting yourself?"

I grabbed a few tissues and gently wiped off the blood from his knuckles. He watched me in silence and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I don't understand why you're still with me when all I do is fuck up," he said.

I looked up at him in anger. "Don't say that."

"Well, it's true!" he snapped, getting up. I folded my arms and pursed my lips. He ran a hand through his hair. "It's fucking true and you know it."

"Austin, tell me what's going on."

"It's fucking everything! All I did was treat that bastard with fucking hatred and he's gone now. He kept trying to make things better and I kept pushing him away, spitting in his face. How was I supposed to fucking pity him after what he did to my mother? I was supposed to hate him and I said that to him, I told him I hated him, but I know it's not fucking true." His words were broken and he spoke in a raspy voice. "Alex told me he fell into a state of depression – a state of fucking depression. It's all my fucking fault. He's gone and it's my fucking fault."

My eyes widened and I scrambled towards him. My legs were about to collapse. "No. No, don't you dare say that. His death is not your fault. It's not yours. It was a car accident. It had nothing to do with you."

He ran another hand through his hair. "And I'm a fucking disappointment to my mother."

"That's not true!" I cried.

"It is," he said. "It fucking is." He grabbed a pack of cigarettes. "She has an eighteen-year-old kid who likes to drink alcohol and fuck up. She has an eighteen-year-old kid who got expelled from his damn school from fucking up. She has a kid who landed his ass in hospital because of alcohol poisoning. She has a kid who smokes every fucking day." He flung the pack across the room. "How is that not a disappointment? How are you fucking still with me? Why?"

I closed my eyes and breathed. "You're much more than what you think you are, Austin. I don't know how to prove it to you. I've known you for such a long time and I've gotten to know you in so many ways and it is exactly why I started liking you and why I like you. You say...you say you're a disappointment but you're not. You show everyone the bitter side of you because you've been through so much but that's not what you're made up of. You do have a soft side and I've seen it. Stop blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens to you."

Before I could even open my eyes, I felt his arms wrap themselves around me and I was pushed against his chest. I sighed and buried my head in his chest. His hand moved to my hair and I felt myself being pushed closer, though it was impossible.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't apologize," I said. "You'll be okay. You hear me? You'll be okay."

"Damn it, the only reason I'm sane is because of you," he breathed.