Warning for on-screen panic attack, brief talk of both child abuse and mental health
I run until my lungs burn. Until my legs threaten to give out and I've reopened every burn on my back. I run until the pain in my chest eases despite my aching rib. Until my every breath hurts. Until I can't run anymore. Until I'm two neighborhoods' away, just trying to catch my breath and fighting back tears.
When the last of the strength in my legs has left me, and I'm shivering from the cold, I duck into a convenience store. It's a few miles from Tatiana's house but I feel like I should be halfway to Wisconsin by now.
I wander the aisles of the convenience store, getting the side-eye from the cashier. I can't blame her. My face is ten shades of fucked up and my breathing is pretty fucking ragged. It'll be a long time before I can get the sound of Tatiana's shaky breath out of my head. Until then, I think my own breath is destined to shake.
I'm aimlessly wandering the aisles when Alex calls my phone. It makes me jump and I try to quiet the screaming in my chest. It's just Alex. It's not Dad calling after we've had a fight.
I debate too long on answering the call and it clicks to voicemail. I let out a breath but I don't feel relieved the way I want to. I don't feel much of anything – aside from this crushing pain in the center of my chest. It's the only thing I can feel.
I don't want to talk to Alex yet. I'm not ready to have that conversation.
I send a text to Jeff instead, hoping I come across a hell of a lot more casual than I feel.
To: Jeff
Hey, would it be cool if I crashed at your place tonight?
I don't want to get into the specifics of it all over the phone but I suspect Jeff will ask. I start to type out why I want to stay with him when Alex calls again.
I don't know that I mean to answer but when I've hit the button, I know it's better this way. I don't want to leave him wondering all night.
"Hello?" I answer with, slowly dragging in a breath.
Alex exhales heavily, and the sound rattles through the phone line – scratching at me until I'm sure I must be bleeding. I don't know why I do things like this. Why I have to run the second it gets too tough. Maybe there's more than just a little bit of Mom in my blood.
"Where'd you go? I'm out looking for you."
I don't want him to find me. I don't deserve him looking for me. I don't deserve his family or his kindness or… any part of this. I scare too easily. I run.
How could I ever deserve any of them?
"Stop looking for me, okay?" I say the words softly but his silence is like a gunshot to my ears. It hurts to drag in a breath. It stabs at my chest and I struggle to drag in air. "Please, Alex. Just… stop looking for me."
"Why?"
He's quick with the question and I'm ashamed of the stinging sensation in my eyes. I don't want to cry. Fuck, I don't even know why the tears are coming anymore. I'm not even that fucking sad. It just hurts. Aches. I've never known what to do with a feeling like this.
I drag in a breath that shakes and I know Alex can hear it. Even through the phone lines, my pain is painfully obvious.
"I don't want to come back," I mumble softly, palming the back of my neck. "Not tonight."
"Okay. I'll pick you up and we can go back to the apartment. Give me a minute to-"
"No, Alex."
My voice is soft on the words but I know he still doesn't understand what I want. So I have to make him understand.
"I want to be alone."
Alex lets out a breath that rattles across the phone lines. The static sound picks at my skin and tears at what little bit of sanity I've managed to hang onto.
"Do you want me to take you to the apartment? I'll leave you alone there if that's what you want."
I groan running my hand through my hair. "No, I'm gonna stay with a friend. I'll be fine."
"Do you want a ride?"
"No. I can… take an Uber."
He falls silent on his end and it stings for some reason. Like he's disappointed that I don't even want him to drive me. I can't help it. If I'm near him, I'll fall apart. It's all I seem to do lately and I can't stand it. I don't want to be like this anymore.
"You'll call me if you need me, right?"
I swallow hard, nodding even though he can't see me. "Yeah, of course. I'll text you in a little while, okay?"
I can tell Alex is still hesitant about this but he says okay. And less than ten seconds later, I'm pressing end on the call.
My screen blinks the call time at me for a few seconds and for a moment, I don't know what to do. But as if the universe is looking out for me, I have two unread texts from Jeff waiting on me.
From: Jeff
Sure. I should warn you though, Blake's staying with me tonight
If that's not a problem, come on over
Fuck, this is such shitty timing. I don't want to be around Blake. Even though Jeff can see past the things he's done, I can't. Maybe it's cause of the shit I've been through or maybe it's cause I'm desperately in love with Danny. Either way, my heart won't let me.
To: Dale
Can I crash at your place tonight?
Maybe I should suck it up and go to Jeff's. I'm probably supposed to let this shit go since Danny's moving on and Blake's apparently trying to change. I don't know. He still did those things. It's weird. Fuck, maybe I'm making it weird.
From: Dale
yeah, y not lmao mitch's prnts wnt him home 2nite anyway so its just me here
I breathe a sigh of relief when his kindergarten way of texting appears on my screen. Thank god. I don't know that I could take a night with Blake right now.
I call for an Uber and then I text Jeff back, telling him that I'm staying with Dale instead. I think he gets the sense that it's because of Blake but he doesn't ask. I'm not sure what I would tell him even if he did.
When the car pulls up to get me, I get in the backseat, telling the driver Dale's address. And when the silence falls in the car, I lean back in the seat, watching the world zip by. I shouldn't be doing this – crashing at my teammate's place when I have a perfectly good place to go.
Alex is here for me. His whole fucking family is here for me and I'm running away. I don't know why I do this shit. I don't think I can blame this on Mom anymore. Maybe this is who I am. Maybe I'm just broken.
It's past nine when the Uber drops me off. Dale opens his door after the second knock, wearing only his boxers. His hair's damp and he has a towel slung around his neck.
"Come on in, man. Mi casa es su casa." He grins, opening the door wider for me.
I step inside when he moves backward. I push the door closed behind me as he wrings water out of his hair with the towel.
"I ordered some Thai food, should be here any minute. I probably need to get dressed before it does." He slides the towel from around his neck, turning back to me. "Oh hey, you like red curry, right?"
I follow him further into his apartment. "Uhh... I don't think I've had it?"
He makes a tsking noise. "You're missing out." He starts for the hallway, waving a hand at me dismissively. "Make yourself at home."
I'm not sure what to do when he leaves. And I don't think I've ever understood that expression. Make myself at home. If this were home, I don't know what I'd be doing right now. Hiding out in my room, probably. Or fuck, I'd be at the hospital. Waiting on Dad so we could go home.
I try to settle down on the couch but the nervous energy racing through me won't go away. So I end up pacing the living room instead, counting the steps I take. The living room is nearly twice the size of Tatiana's and I wonder how Dale doesn't get lonely here. Every time I've been around, his parents haven't been. I wonder where they are right now.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I hesitate on even pulling it out. I can't take Alex checking up on me already.
From: Blake
I'll clear off if you want to come stay with Jeff. It's fine, really.
What…?
I reread his text twice, trying to make sure I understand it. Did Jeff… tell him that I wasn't coming cause of him?
I try to send back a couple of different responses, but none of them feel right. I end up burying my phone in my pocket again and resuming my pacing instead.
Dale comes into the living room when I'm mid-step. I stand there frozen for a split second but he doesn't react. He barely lifts his gaze from his phone so I try to relax.
"You want a beer?" he offers, looking up with a frown. "Did I already ask that?"
I shake my head. "No, you didn't ask. But… I'll take one, yeah."
He gives me a thumbs up before he leaves the room. I watch him go for as long as I can but when he turns into the kitchen, I start pacing again. I walk in a circle this time, trying to slow my breathing but it's easier said than done.
"So, what's up?" Dale asks when he comes back. He hands me a cold beer and tips his own toward me. "Cheers by the way."
I open my beer can and drain half of it in one go. Maybe if I get enough in me, this nervous energy will go away.
Dale sits on one of the couches armrests. "Seriously, man. What happened?"
"What makes you think something happened?" I ask, trying to ignore the nervous tremble in my voice. I drain more beer, wishing it'd hit my system faster.
He scoffs. "Cause you're practically vibrating right now. Something's fucked you up. You can bullshit all you want but even I'm not that thick."
I don't want to talk about it. And I think if I asked him to, Dale would back down. But fuck, maybe I need to talk about this. Maybe I need someone else's advice cause for fuck's sake, I keep ruining everything.
The doorbell rings before I find the courage to speak. Dale makes a face when he gets up from the couch. He sets his beer down on the coffee table between the couches.
"This isn't over. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back." He leaves again and I don't have the energy to keep standing anyway.
I cross the room and sink down onto one of the couches. I lean my head back as far as I can and breathe out slowly. I don't know how to do stuff like this. I don't know how to go storming off into the night. I used to run from Dad but I don't want to run from the Moreno's. They've never given me any reason to run from them before and… fuck, this wasn't even a reason to run. I just ran because I got scared and I always fuck up when I'm scared.
Dale comes back, balancing a ton of take-out boxes in his arms. I almost offer to help but he's grinning, clearly proud of himself for carrying it all. I lean forward to move his beer bottle off the coffee table so he can set the food down.
"I thought Mitch was coming over so I ordered a ton of food." He collapses next to me on the couch, letting out a breath. "Eat whatever you want, I don't usually save the leftovers."
I take the plastic fork he offers me and he sets a tray on the couch cushion between us. It's some kind of rice dish with what looks like seafood and some assorted vegetables. I can smell the spices on it just from here.
He starts stabbing up vegetables and popping them in his mouth. There's a few seconds of hesitation before he looks up at me.
"Shit, I'm sorry. I usually eat this with Mitch – we always share the tray. I can get us some plates if you-"
"No, that's okay. I don't mind." I stab a few vegetables too.
Dale relaxes across from me. For a few minutes, we just eat. But when he swaps out the trays, he looks up at me.
"So, seriously. What's going on?"
I twirl noodles around my fork and don't look up at him. I know the story will spill from me the second I meet his gaze. I'm not ready to come undone like that yet.
"It's complicated."
"How so?" he asks around a mouthful of food. He uses the fork to push the food back into his mouth when it threatens to spill out. "You hafta gi-me somefin."
I poke his arm with the handle of my fork. "Dude, ew."
He grins in response. I drop my gaze back to the food, trying to sort out the shit inside my head. What happened wasn't even that bad.
"I don't know. I guess… it was cause of some fight."
Dale nudges my fork out of the way to get more food. "What kind of fight?"
"The stupid kind," I mumble.
He doesn't say anything – waiting me out instead. I don't know where to start or even how to. If this was Danny, it'd be so much easier. He knows me better than Dale does. I feel like I can be myself around him.
"Do your parents know you're gay?"
I don't think I mean the question, but I ask it before I think it through. It's not my place to ask him something like that. But the words escape me and I can't take them back.
Dale's frowning when I look up at him. "Yeah, they know."
"How'd they take it?"
"Jesus, Dash." He pushes the tray closer to me. "Eat, you obviously need something shutting you up."
I rest my fork on the edge of the tray. "I'm serious. Was it… bad?"
He looks away from me, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "How often have you seen my parents around here?" He looks back to me with another shrug. "They didn't care. Never do."
Shit. I shouldn't have asked him about this. He never brings up his family, to any of us. It's none of my business.
"I'm sorry."
Dale turns back to the food. He swaps out the tray we have between us for a different one. "It is what it is. I'm not spending my life bitching and complaining about it. It's a waste."
He resumes eating but my stomach's too twisted up now. I shouldn't have asked him anything. Just cause I'm struggling like fuck through this, it doesn't mean I can ask him about it. It's not fair.
"I kinda had a fight with someone about Danny."
Dale pauses, looking up at me again. There's a hesitation in his movements and he swallows hard. "Your dad?"
My blood runs cold at the thought. I wouldn't be sitting here talking about it if I'd told my dad about Danny. I'd be in fucking traction if he ever knew.
"No. Not him." I barely breathe on the few words but it still spikes my anxiety higher.
Dale doesn't ask – he just nods. But still, there's the unspoken question. And I have to answer it.
"I've been staying with… a friend." I stir the noodles around in my half of the tray, shrugging one shoulder. "I spent Christmas with him and his family."
"Sorry, is "friend" supposed to be code for Danny or something?"
I look up at him, catching his frown. I let out a breath and rest my fork in the tray again, turning my gaze out toward the rest of the sprawling living room. I wish I could go back to the last time I was here. When Danny was with me and we ate omelets and dodged Dale's incessant teasing.
"What's going on, man?"
My breath catches when I inhale. "This guy I'm staying with – Alex – he's got a big family. And… sometimes their opinions…" I trail off, letting out a breath. "We just… we disagree."
Dale's expression is curious when I meet his gaze. He searches my face for something, but I don't know what.
"Are you saying, in a really fucking convoluted way, that you came out and they didn't like it?"
Heat rushes to my face, but Dale's expression softens.
He reaches across the space between us, gently punching my shoulder. "You should have led with that. No wonder you were asking about my parents."
He goes back to eating, nudging my fork out of the way to rake more noodles onto his side of the tray.
"So what happened? Who didn't like it?" He slurps up a forkful of noodles. "Did they yell or were they doing that seething disappointment thing?"
I don't want to talk about it anymore. Tatiana probably didn't mean anything by it – I'm blowing this whole fucking thing out of proportion. It's not her fault. But… god, it's not mine either.
"I can't imagine living on my own like you do. Even in a great place like this," I say instead, earning a frown when he looks at me.
He makes a face, swallowing his mouthful of pasta before looking up at me. "I hate this place. It's so impersonal – like we barely live here."
He drops his gaze back to the pasta, spearing a few vegetables with the tines of his fork. "I like Mitch's neighborhood. Everyone knows everyone, and they're all… I don't know. It's like a community over there."
"Really?" I ask, leaning my elbows on my knees. That's just as foreign to me as Dale's place is. I don't think anyone would describe my neighborhood as a "community."
Dale nods, meeting my gaze when he lifts his head. "Yeah. I was with his family a lot over this past summer. We spent so much time barbecuing in his backyard and going to neighbor's pool parties or dinners and… god, there's nothing like that here." He gestures around at the living room. "I have a nice place, but there's no life to it. Nobody in this building even knows my name."
I nod when he falls silent, and though I try to stop myself, the question comes out. "So… do his parents know you guys are… together?"
He shrugs, closing the lid on the tray and swapping it out for something different. It sort of looks like spring rolls to me.
"Yeah, they know." He picks up one of the spring rolls and bites the top off of it.
"Are they okay with it?"
He looks up at me with a nod. "Yeah, are you kidding me? His parents are great. I mean… Mitch says it took them a few days to get used to the idea but they've always been great to me. I only met them this past summer but they… I don't know, they feel like family to me."
His cheeks are tinted pink when he looks away from me, clearing his throat. "And if you tell any of the guys that inside I'm a fucking marshmallow, I'll have to kick your ass."
I grin, miming locking my lips and throwing away the key. Dale rolls his eyes, getting a laugh out of me.
"I don't think I ever asked – how long have you guys been dating anyway?"
"For real, man? What is this twenty questions or something?" He sighs when I shrug. "It was our one year anniversary last week. New Year's Day."
"Whoa, really?"
He nods, nudging the spring rolls toward me. "Yeah. You should eat. Seriously, these are good."
I'm not that interested in eating. My stomach's still in knots. But I pick up a spring roll anyway, and Dale gives me a smile.
"Mitch stayed late after my New Year's Eve party last year. He helped me clean up and… you know, one thing led to another." He takes another bite of his spring roll. "It's still strange to think that a year ago, I barely knew anything about him. He was just another guy on the team with me."
I nod, swallowing a bite of food. Last year, hearing Danny's name didn't make my heart skip a beat. I didn't get lost in eyes so blue, the ocean's jealous.
A lot can change in a year. And somehow… a lot can end up staying exactly the same.
When we're done eating, and we watch half an hour of brainless TV, Dale tells me to crash in the guest room opposite his. And his face is only a little pink when he tells me that he'd let me stay in his room, but he always calls Mitch before he falls asleep.
I find the extra blankets in the closet where he said they'd be. And after locating the stash of new toothbrushes in the bathroom across the hall, I brush my teeth and crawl in bed.
Sleep won't take me. I keep tossing and turning, but my body won't give in. Like it's waiting on something, but I can't figure out what.
My phone vibrates against the nightstand. The screen lights up, illuminating the room. I listen to the vibration for a few seconds longer before I roll over to grab it. Danny's calling me and I don't hesitate on answering.
I flop back against the mattress with a sigh. "Hey."
"Hey," he answers, letting out a breath. "Kinda lame to say this already but I missed you."
His honesty makes me grin. And in the darkness of Dale's guest bedroom, I'm not embarrassed of the color I know is on my face. He misses me. God, I miss him too.
"I missed you too," I respond, running one hand through my hair. It's still damp. "How'd dinner go?"
He groans. "Okay, I guess. My dad started to tell me something but my mom cut him off. She got pissed at him for bringing it up and no matter how many times I asked, they wouldn't tell me what's going on. So… that's fun."
"I'm sorry." I can picture his parents sitting across the table from him, exchanging glares and heated words. I can feel it tearing at Danny even though he's trying to play it off. "You want me to come around and give them something else to argue about?"
He laughs at that – a real laugh that crackles over the phone. It makes me snort too even though the joke wasn't that funny.
"How'd dinner go for you?"
I don't want to tell him. If I confess that I left, it'll only worry him. But I think he'll know if I lie. He knows me too well now for me to pass off a lie anymore.
"Could have gone better." I can feel the hesitation between us as he waits for me to elaborate. I could barely get the story out with Dale – it should be easier with Danny. I thought it would be.
He lets out a breath slowly. "What happened?"
I don't know where to begin. I don't know that I should even be telling him. I don't want him to know that in a roundabout way, we had a fight about him.
"Kind of a long story," I try, hoping that he'll guess that I don't want to talk about it. I do. But I don't want to hurt him.
Danny hesitates but in the end, he asks. "What is it?"
I can't lie to him. I've spent so much time lying to everyone else, I can't do it to him too. He deserves better than that.
"Tatiana and I had a bit of an argument. I guess, anyway. Maybe I took it the wrong way," I mumble, running a hand down my face.
He sighs. "What were you fighting about?"
I think when I stay silent, he guesses it. There's plenty of shit we could argue about. But this is the one that hurts the most. This is the one I can't back down from. I love Danny. And I can't pretend that I don't.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, like this could ever be his fault.
I roll over to face the window. Moonlight spills across the carpet, like a bottle of ink. I wish Danny were here to see it. That he wasn't on the phone with me, apologizing for something that could never be his fault.
"Don't be," I say.
He sighs again and I don't want our conversation to be about this. I don't want to let our phone call revolve around something so stupid in the long run. I don't care what anyone thinks of the way I feel for Danny. All I care about is that he feels it too.
"Let's talk about something else." I shift on the mattress. "Tell me how your night's been."
He lets out a soft breath. It rattles across the line and I can hear the hesitation it's wrapped up in. "It's been okay."
"Yeah? Whatcha been up to?" I push.
"Not much… getting the last things I need for the new semester."
Shit. I forgot the last semester is starting soon. There's only a few days until my last semester of high school. With everything that's happened… I forgot about it.
"Fuck, I haven't gotten anything yet."
Danny makes a soft noise, and it's like I can hear the smile in his voice. "Do you need to go shopping for supplies? I'm free tomorrow."
I don't know what my tomorrow is going to look like. I know I'll go back to Alex at some point but… I don't know when. It's not like I can crash in Dale's guest room forever.
"Maybe." I chew on the inside of my lip. "Kinda depends on how everything… goes tomorrow, I guess."
"Oh. You're still hiding out from them?"
I hesitate too long to pass off a simple yes. The silence blankets the two of us until I can barely breathe. Just filling my lungs is hard enough.
"You… are with them right now, right?"
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. "Define with."
"Please tell me you're not on the side of the road somewhere." He hesitates before he continues, his voice pinched. "You didn't go home, did you?"
That sends a jolt through me like a bolt of lightning. I can picture my room the way I left it. Nothing on the walls, no furniture anymore. The thought of going back there now terrifies me. It's easy to be brave when I've got everyone else backing me up. Going there alone? I'd never survive.
"No."
The breath I let out practically hangs in front of me in the air. It's terrifying just to imagine. He's not even there but going home still sends a shock through me.
"Thank god," he whispers, his voice quaking on the few words.
I scared him. Like I've scared Alex and everyone else that cares. Things aren't that bad with the Moreno's. Why'd I have to run? What right do I have to leave them like this?
"I'm at Dale's. Had some Thai food earlier. I'm… in a spare room right now." I fill the silence with empty words. It all means nothing. But I'm terrified if I don't start rambling about things that don't matter, I'll start to talk about all the things that do.
"That's good. Are you… doing okay?"
I feel like there's some hidden context to his question. Something I'm supposed to pick up on that I just don't.
"I'm fine." It's the truth but it feels forced. I don't know what he's looking for. What he wants me to say. I wish he'd just tell me. I've never been good at guessing games.
Danny lets out a quiet breath again. I don't think he's gonna tell me. I don't know that I deserve for him to anyway. I ran away from the only family that's ever accepted me into their home. Because I'm an idiot. Because I'm scared.
What the hell have I been thinking? They've always been so kind to me. Is this the thanks they deserve?
"I should call Alex. Tell him goodnight."
I don't know if I'll have the nerve to actually go through with it. But saying it out loud is enough for now.
"Okay. I'm gonna call you tomorrow. See if you want to go pick up school supplies, alright?" he asks, his voice hesitant on the few words. "I mean, I'm guessing that you'll have other things to do tomorrow but… just in case? Gives you an easy out if you need to get away for a while."
I love him. He's so selfless and always ready to sacrifice his day for me. For whatever I need. I don't think I deserve him. I don't think I could ever deserve him.
"Okay," I all but whisper the one word but it's enough. I've said it and he hears it and that's enough. It's gotta be. Or I'll self-destruct right here and now.
Nerves eat away at me when I call Alex. I listen to the ringing forever, holding my breath at the thought that he might not answer. I'm sure if he didn't, it'd likely be because he was away from his phone. But I know my heart would beat out of time, telling me that he doesn't want to speak to me.
He picks up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"
I don't know what to say. I thought it would come to me the moment I heard his voice. The words are stuck in my throat now. They taste like acid and burn even more so. I don't think I can cough this feeling out.
"Are you okay? Did something happen?"
I can hear the worry in his tone and I hate myself for it. I don't want to cause any more pain than I already have. But I'm doing a pretty shit job of it right now.
"I'm fine. I wanted to… to call you and tell you that I'm fine. I'm… going to bed now." The words tumble out of me in a rush.
Alex lets out a breath that rattles over the phone line. I listen to it amidst the static and close my eyes to it. I wish I hadn't run from there tonight. I wish I was still with his family, talking late into the night. If I had let that shit with Tatiana go…
"Where are you?"
I don't think Alex is the type of person that would come charging over here. Even if he knew where I was, he wouldn't show up. But still – the thought of telling him conjures up images in my mind of Dad racing to get to me. Dad trying to run me off the road in his police cruiser.
"I'm… with a friend," I say, guilt picking at me at only surrendering part of the answer. At least it's not a lie. But it's not what he's asking.
He hesitates. "You're sure you don't want me to come get you?"
I do. I want him to get in his car and drive straight to me. I want to get in his passenger seat and spill all these apologies building up in the back of my throat. But I think I'm supposed to save face or something. Isn't that the way it's supposed to go after an argument? Or am I so used to running from Dad, I'm making up excuses to stay away?
"No, that's… okay."
He's quiet on his end and I can almost picture him. Hand tight around his phone, brow furrowed. Chewing his lower lip or maybe smoking a cigarette. I can picture it. I just wish I was a part of it.
"I'll pick you up in the morning, okay? Text me the address when you get up and I'll come get you."
Tears prick my eyes and I don't understand it. Why the fuck am I sad again? And if I'm so fucking sad, why don't I fucking go to him? Why am I dragging this out? Why am I making it worse?
"Okay, yeah." I can barely get the two words out and for a second, I worry that Alex can hear me. That he's picked up on the tell-tale sound of trembling in my voice.
He lets out a breath. "Okay. Sleep well."
"Night, Alex," I whisper, a tear racing across the bridge of my nose. I hear it hit the mattress and I close my eyes to it. This hurts more than it should. I've spent nights away from him. But my heart's never been twisted up like this before.
It feels like it did the last time I ran from him. When I was worn down from travel and all the ugly things Mom spit my way. I thought he hated me, so I ran. I didn't want to go back then but I desperately want to tonight. And maybe if I tell him – if I simply whisper what it is I want – maybe I can have it. Maybe I can be brave enough to go after it.
"Night, Dash."
I'm the one to end the call. I pull my phone away and when I see his name, something snaps. There's a physical pain in my chest and if I ever had a chance at stopping the tears, it disappears in that moment. I don't know why I left tonight. I wish I could take it all back.
I don't know how long I sleep before the terror wakes me. Like every time before, my heart is screaming in my chest, and the hysteria is quick to follow. Alex isn't here to hold me this time. No one is.
My chest is tight and inhaling is painful. It puts a weird kind of pressure on my lungs and the ache is crippling. I shift on the mattress and the pain intensifies, ripping through me. Panic crawls into the back of my throat, everything in my freezing.
Did my rib just crack further? Is that… Did that wake me?
Everything in me is hammering and vibrating. Like no part of me wants to sit still now and I practically rip the covers off my body. I'm shaking and I drop the hem of my hoodie twice before I yank it up high enough to look at my side.
The moon is merely slivers of light peeking in through the window so I get up from the bed. Just walking hurts and I'm trembling as I turn the light on. I almost don't want to look. What if it's bad?
I drop my gaze to my side and try to twist in a way that I can see but it's hard. Any movement makes the pain worse. I'm starting to hyper-ventilate now and my lungs are dying from the pressure. What the fuck do I do?
My heart is pounding in my chest, my breathing strangled. I can't see my side by myself and I need to know what it looks like.
I can't remember which room Dale is in, so I open three doors before I find him. He's asleep, his chest rising and falling. I hover in the doorway, watching him sleep, the fear prickling at the back of my mind. I don't want to wake him. But the pain in my lungs isn't easing. It's only getting worse.
"Dale," I call as I step into the room, my every breath sticking in my throat.
He doesn't even shift and the anxiety peaks in my chest. My every nerve ending is on fire. I think about turning back but pain ripples through me, forcing me further into the room.
"Dale," I call a little louder.
He lifts his head from his pillow. "Huh?"
I can tell he's practically still asleep but I move further into his room. "I-I need you to look at something."
He groans but pushes himself upright. "If there's something wrong with your dick, I'm not the guy to-"
"Dale, please."
I think he hears the desperation in my tone this time. He pulls back his covers and rubs his eyes. He scoots to the edge of his mattress. "Okay, sorry. What am I looking at?"
My teeth have begun to chatter and I try to speak twice before I finally get it out. "My rib. I-I think it punctured my lung. I can't… it's hard to breathe."
Dale runs his hand down his face. "Hang on, I need some light."
He gets up from his bed and crosses the room to his light switch. When he flicks the switch on and I'm bathed in light, I can't stop shivering. I can see myself in the mirror he has across the room. My skin looks so pale compared to what it usually looks like. What the fuck is wrong with me?
"Alright, show me." Dale comes over to me again and kneels in front of me.
With trembling hands, I lift the hem of my shirt. I show him where the pain is. Where I'm sure my rib must have broken through my skin. I wait for his gasp or his swears but they don't come.
"There's nothing there," he says, his voice gravelly from sleep.
What? How can it be nothing?
"A-Are you sure? It's right here." I gesture to the area but he's quick to shake his head. Fuck. Maybe it's not showing on the outside because it's-
I drag in a breath that hurts. "D-Dale, do you think… do you think it's not showing on the outside cause it's on the inside?"
Dale hesitates before he looks up at me. He keeps us in silence for a long few minutes and I find it harder and harder to breathe. What if it's punctured my lung already? What if I'm slowly losing all my oxygen? How can this happen? Why am I-
"I think you're having a panic attack."
His voice is calm on the few words but it's still like a shot straight to my heart. It shoots something through me that's close to fear. I don't know why I'd be panicking. There's something wrong. It can't be this. Not again.
"I-I don't… no, there's… it hurts, Dale," I argue, swallowing hard past the bile in my throat. "Are you sure you don't see anything?"
He nods, leaning back on the carpet. "Yeah, I'm positive. I think you're panicking, dude."
It can't be this again. I can't be aching for nothing – this has to be something. God, am I losing my fucking mind?
I back up in the small space between us and the backs of my legs hit the bed. I sink down on his mattress, everything welling up in my chest. It's hard to breathe. And the pain is still radiating through my side, crippling me.
"Keith has them sometimes, too," Dale says, nodding when I shift my gaze to him. "He calls me or Mitch in the middle of the night. We talk him through it most of the time. Sometimes he needs to come over."
I don't know why he's telling me this. I'm not panicking. This isn't… I'm fine. My rib's aching and I can't breathe. I punctured something. I had to.
"You remember what you were dreaming about?" Dale continues, oblivious to the brewing fear in me. "Keith's dreams affect him sometimes. Night terrors, I think he calls them. When he talks about the dream, sometimes it helps to get it out and-"
"It wasn't a fucking nightmare."
I don't know why I shrink away from him. I'm the one spitting harsh words. I don't know what's wrong with me. This can't have been a dream. I'm not that goddamn pathetic.
Dale watches me in silence for a few seconds and I hate it. I wish I could find the strength in my legs to stand. To get the hell out of here. I ran last night – I can run again.
"Okay." He's quiet on the one word and I hate that too. Why can't he tell me to fuck off for snapping at him? Why is his voice soft – why isn't he screaming or telling me to get out or-
I break. My hands rush up to meet my face and I can't stop the prickling in my eyes this time. Fuck, why am I always crying? Why do I let things fuck with me like this? Why am I such a baby about this kind of shit?
"It's okay, you know," Dale continues, his voice just as soft as before. "Life's tough. Yours especially."
Danny's life is hard. Alex's life is hard. Keith's life is hard. I'm just a fucking baby. I've never been able to take hits without falling down. Maybe I wasn't born with the kind of strength everyone else was. Maybe I've always been destined to fall like this.
I can't stop shaking. My hands are trembling around my face and I try to quiet all the noises building in the back of my throat. I don't know how to do this.
Dale gets up from the floor and sits next to me on the bed. His shoulder presses against mine – keeping me in place. Telling me that he's here and not going anywhere.
I try to pull myself together. I claw for any shred of strength I have left in my bones. But I come up empty. I don't know how I'm supposed to get through this when I can barely sit here on my own.
"Do you want me to call that guy you mentioned? Alex, right?"
I shake my head even though the answer's yes. I don't want him to have to come get me now. I can survive a night away from him.
We sit in silence together for a while. Long enough for my breathing to regulate a little more. The pain's still in my side but it's not as sharp. It's not as consuming as it was. The tears that built up in my eyes have gone away and I can speak without shattering now. It's still hard. I don't understand this. Any of it.
Dale lets out a breath and nudges my shoulder with his. "Do you want to try laying down for a while?"
I don't know if that'll help. What if it only makes it worse? What if I wake again with panic ringing in my bones and the taste of fear at the back of my throat?
"You can sleep here," he offers.
He's being kind and I shouldn't be putting something like this on him. But he's offering and I'm terrified to be alone again.
"Okay." I practically whisper the one word, but I get it out. I manage to speak despite the fear coating my throat like acid.
I lay down next to him even though my heart's started its erratic beating again. With every rise and fall of my own chest, the panic builds in me a little more.
Dale tries to stay awake with me, but after a few minutes, I hear him snoring. I try to sleep but I can only shut my eyes for so long. I drift off only to wake again with a jolt. It's like my body's fighting hard against sleep.
When I wake again and it's past seven, I give up on sleep. I shouldn't have to fight this hard to pass out for a while.
I try not to wake Dale as I get out of bed. I shut his bedroom door softly behind me and go down the stairs. I change into the clothes I wore here last night and pile the ones he gave me to sleep in at the bottom of the stairs. I don't know where he keeps the laundry and I think I'd get lost trying to find it.
When I've done all that I can and there's nothing left for me to busy myself with, I call Alex. It takes all the strength left in my bones not to text him instead. But hearing his voice will wedge a little piece of sanity in my head.
"Hello?"
I drag in a breath that hurts and my voice is small on the one word. "Hey."
"Hey… what's up?" His hesitance is obvious but it doesn't make me choke like it did last night.
I sink down on the stairs and push my hand through my hair. "Were you already awake?"
"Yeah, I've been up for a while. Why? You want me to come get you?"
Want isn't the right word. I think it has to be him. I need to sit beside him – even if we don't talk. His presence will be enough to ease the rattling inside my chest for a little while.
"If you don't mind." My voice is soft and from the way his silence hangs, I think he picks up on it. I'm not usually awake this early when I don't have school. He has to know that I'm calling him because something's up.
"Okay. Text me the address, I'll leave now," he says, letting out a breath. "Is this Kwan's place?"
I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes closed. "No, this is… I'm at Dale's. He lives in an apartment across town." I drag in a breath and keep going like I actually have something to say. "Nice neighborhood, kind of where the rich and stuffy go to live? A-At least according to him."
"Oh, I know where you're talking about. The apartment complex a couple miles down from what used to be that old water tower, right?"
"Uhh… I guess?"
He laughs. "Probably before your time. Okay, send me the address and I'll find you. Okay?"
"Okay." I'm not sure how to end the call and I think he senses that.
"I'll see you soon," he promises and something about the few words eases the pressure in my chest. Like I can breathe again knowing that he's coming to get me.
"See you soon," I repeat the words back to him and when we've said goodbye, I end the call.
I don't know what to do when the silence falls. I would pace but there's not enough energy in my bones. I think I'd take three steps and fall down.
A minute passes before I push myself up from the stairs. I move into the living room, but I collapse on the couch. Despite knowing Alex is on his way, my nerves are still twisted so tightly around me, it's hard to focus. God, I hope he gets here soon.
I hear Dale on the stairs a few minutes later and I turn to look at him over my shoulder. He looks as exhausted as I am. And it eats at me a little. I must have woken him when I got up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Dale crosses the living room and collapses on the other end of the couch. "Nah. It's cool."
He tips his head back and lets out a breath, his eyes falling closed. For a few seconds, I think he could be asleep. But he shifts on the couch and opens his eyes again to look at me.
"Did you take your car here last night? I can give you a ride if you need one," he says around a yawn. "I don't mind."
I shake my head, leaning back on the couch. "No, I'm okay. Alex is picking me up."
"Ahh, okay." He closes his eyes again and this time, I think he's really going for sleep. But he breaks the silence without opening his eyes. "It's gonna be okay, you know. All of this stuff – you'll figure it out."
I don't know how true that is. I can barely stand on my own most days. The Moreno's are my rock right now. Danny, too. I don't know where I'd be right now without them. God, I never should have run last night.
"And if you need to crash here again, you come over whenever. You don't even have to call, just show up," he mumbles, his voice sleepy on the words. One corner of his mouth turns up and he snorts quietly. "You might walk in on me and Mitch getting nasty though."
I scoff. "Shut up."
"Oh come on, like you don't love living vicariously through me." He opens his eyes with a grin. "Then again… you've got Danny now. Guess you're done doing things vicariously."
My face is hot and I can't turn away from him fast enough.
"Wait – hold up. You guys spent the night here on New Years Eve." He leans across the space between us to shove my shoulder. "Are you seriously telling me you guys haven't done it yet?"
I push his hand off me. "I thought I told you to shut up already."
His eyebrows rise on his forehead but he's still grinning. "Soooo… you need some pointers then?"
"Fuck off." I slouch down further on the couch. My phone vibrates in my hand and relief courses through me when I see the message. Alex is here.
I push away from the couch and stretch my arms over my head. "Thanks for letting me crash here last night."
"Yeah, of course. Any time." He gets up from the couch too and follows me to the foyer. "Is your side still hurting?"
The question feels double-sided. If I'm honest, then he was right. I was only panicking last night. But if I say yes, he'll see right through it. It's like admitting I'm scared either way.
"A bit," I lie, shrugging as I come to a stop in the foyer. "Not as bad as it was last night."
He gives me a look like he calls bullshit. I stoop to put on my shoes and he sighs. "Alright, well… I hope you feel better soon."
It's hard to meet his gaze when I'm done with my shoes. He knows the truth, same as me. I was panicking last night. It's just… the pain felt so real.
He gently punches me on the shoulder before pulling me into a hug. His arms are tight across my back. Like he's trying to infuse strength back into me. It's a lost cause. I've got too many cracks and holes in my heart to ever hold strength again.
"You call me if things get dark, alright? Don't try to fight this all on your own." He holds me tighter, letting out a breath. "You've got people that care. Remember that."
Between Alex's family, Danny, and my friends… I think I'm set on people that care. Still, it's not like it hurts to hear that someone else does too.
"Thanks," I practically whisper the word.
He lets go of me and nods toward the front door. "I'll walk you down to the lobby."
"It's okay, I got it." I force a smile. "You could probably use more sleep."
Dale rolls his eyes but he opens the door for me. "Okay. Text me later, so I know you survived and everything, okay?"
"Sure." I step out into the hall and start for the elevators.
He calls my name when I'm a couple paces away from his door. I turn to look and he's got a shit-eating grin on his face. "I meant what I said earlier. If you need pointers in the bedroom, you know who to talk to."
"Ugh, shut up."
He laughs loudly before waving goodbye and ducking back into his apartment. When the door shuts behind him, I start for the elevator again. I'm glad I came to Dale last night. It's nice to know he cares. Even if I have to hear way more about his sex life than anyone ever should.
I go to the parking garage alone. My stomach's in my throat and my knees are knocking together with every step I take. But I make it there in one piece. That has to count for something.
Alex is waiting on the hood of his car for me. He's got his phone in his hand but he's not looking at it. He's watching me as I close the distance between us. His gaze on me sends a new wave of anxiety through my veins. I drop my stare to the ground as I walk, nerves twisting my gut with every passing second.
He stands when I'm close enough. I stop a few paces from him but he closes that distance. He takes his jacket off and wraps it around my shoulders without saying anything. But when he uses his thumb to lift my chin, I can practically see his thoughts written in his expression. His eyes have always been so damn telling. I almost choke at the worry in his eyes now.
He's scared I'm gonna run again. I'm a little scared of the same.
"Come on, you should get warm," he says, guiding me to the passenger side. He waits until I'm inside before he closes the door after me and crosses to the driver's side.
It's warm in his car. It shakes out some of the loneliness that's been sitting on my bones since I left last night. It crumbles my walls down a little further.
He gets in beside me and closes the door. The cold rushes in and for a moment, I can do nothing more than let it freeze me. Let it send shivers through me until I can't even breathe. But the moment ends the second Alex's gaze meets mine.
"You can't run like that again."
His tone is soft on the words and I get the feeling that he's trying not to scare me. I don't know how much it's helping. I'm already scared. Of this conversation, of what happens next, of whatever the hell ripped through me last night. I'm scared of it all. Of everything.
I nod, dropping my gaze from his. I don't want to run from him again. Things might not be exactly perfect between me and Tatiana but that doesn't give me the right to run from Alex. He's been there for me for so long. He doesn't deserve this.
"Look at me."
His tone is still soft but it sends a rush of anxiety through me. Dad would say the same words. When he wanted to look into my eyes as he screamed at me. As he demanded better of me.
As soon as I meet his gaze again, I spit out the first two words that have hammered into me since the moment I left. "I'm sorry."
His eyes fall closed and I feel like I fucked up somehow. Like he doesn't want my pathetic apologies. I can't blame him. I wouldn't want them either.
"You don't have to apologize for this." He opens his eyes again. For a second, he only stares at me. He reaches out and takes my hand in his. My fingers are numb from the cold.
Alex holds my hand firmly, like he's afraid I'll run again if he doesn't. "I want you to understand something. You never have to apologize to me for being scared. I get it. But you don't have to let your fear drive you away." He leans closer, brushing his knuckles along my jaw. "I'm never going to hurt you for being afraid, Dash."
Tears are stinging my eyes like I've got any left in me. I thought I'd let them all out by now. "Alex, I-"
He shushes me softly, letting go of my hand to cup my face with both his hands. "Let me finish, please."
I swallow hard and drop my gaze again. I don't know why he's saying these things. I don't need him to say any of it – I know already.
"Look at me, amor." His voice takes on a tone I've never heard when he speaks the Spanish word. I don't know what it means but I trust the kindness in his tone as he tilts my head up. "You need to hear me. I will never hurt you. For any reason. And I'll never let anyone else hurt you. You're safe with me. You're always safe with me."
I hate myself for the tears that fall from my eyes again. For letting something else push me to this point. Nothing's wrong. I don't know why I'm tearing up or why he's holding onto me like I'm gonna break.
"When something's wrong – when you're upset or scared or anything like that… I want to help you." He brushes my hair back from my forehead with one hand. "You and me, we're in this together. So when you need me, I'm gonna be there."
He's blurry through my tears and I try to keep my head up but it's hard. His every word hurts in a way I don't understand. I don't know why he's saying these things. I don't know why he thinks I need to hear them.
"You can't run like that again," he says, running his fingers through my hair now. "You're safe with me. So when things get dark – when you need someone… you can need me, Dash."
Fuck, he's wrong. I don't need anyone. I've made it this far on my own. This is just a rough patch right now. I'll get through it. I always get through it.
"You don't have to do this alone anymore. I'm here."
But for fuck's sake, maybe he's right. I've made it this far on my own but it doesn't have to be like that anymore. Just cause I can do it alone doesn't mean I have to. Maybe this is okay. Maybe I can need him.
"I don't… you…"
The words are stuck in my throat and it's hard to breathe around them. I want to tell him everything. How much I ache hearing him say that he's gonna be here for me. Or about how these nightmares are getting worse and I don't know how to stop them. They've never been this bad before.
"One other thing." He tilts my chin up again to meet my gaze. He uses his thumbs to brush away the few tears that have escaped me. "I know that it's been ingrained into you to run when there's a fight. Or when you think something might end badly. But know this. If I'm there with you, it doesn't matter how it ends. I'll have your back, I swear it."
I don't know where he gets this kind of compassion. He barely knew me a year ago. I kept everyone at arm's length cause I didn't think there was a point to letting anyone in. But he's here for me. He's got nothing to gain from this – he's chasing after me because he wants to. And that's fucking terrifying.
Alex guides me forward to rest my head against his chest. He holds me tightly, whispering something in Spanish. I'm exhausted from everything that happened last night. So when I hear his heart beat in my ears, I bury my face in the fabric of his hoodie. I let him hold me and for a moment, I pretend this is how it was always meant to be. I pretend that Alex is my home.
When the heat in the car builds to a point where I can't stand it anymore, I leave Alex's arms. I shrug his jacket off and he dials the heat down a little.
"You want to go get breakfast?" he asks.
I'm starving. And exhausted from the lack of sleep. At the very least, I could go for a cup of coffee. But I don't think it's fair to leave if I don't give him a little honesty. He deserves it. He deserves more than that.
"Can we… talk for a second, first?"
Asking the question sends a rush of anxiety through me. I'm the one instigating this. I'm in control of what to say – he's not posing questions or demanding answers from me. I'm the one offering up the information. So why the fuck do I feel so powerless?
Alex leans back in his seat and turns toward me a little more. "Yeah, of course."
I can't meet his gaze this time. I try but I don't have the nerve to hold it. "The nightmares… they're uh… they're getting worse."
It stings to admit. It's like confessing some kind of guilt. Some kind of failure.
"They are?" His voice is laced with kindness on the few words but I don't know that I'm worthy of it.
I swallow hard and shrug one shoulder. "They're not unbearable. It's just… something I thought you'd want to know."
"What was the dream about?"
I exhale, trying to keep from panicking all over again. It's daylight now. Or… at least it is outside of this garage. Either way – the dark isn't pounding into me, demanding more than I can give. I'm fine.
"I don't… remember, exactly. I woke up and…" I trail off, chewing on my lower lip as I try to find the words. "There was this… pain. In my rib?"
He's watching me carefully when I look up at him. "What do you mean?"
"I thought it'd punctured my lung for a while. It was kinda… hard to breathe."
Alex lets out a breath before he puts his hand on my shoulder. "But you're okay now?"
I nod, dropping my gaze as I shrug again. "Yeah, I don't know what it was. Dale said that I was panicking. I don't know."
"Do you want to have your rib x-rayed? Just to be safe?"
I chew on the inside of my lip before shaking my head. He's quiet and I make myself look at him when I speak.
"No. I don't… I don't want to give in to the paranoia."
Alex nods. His gaze is kind, but so full of worry it makes me ache. It shouldn't be like this. He shouldn't have to take care of me just because my own parents won't.
I push a hand through my hair, turning my gaze out the passenger window. "I don't get it. I've had nightmares before. It… was never like this in the past."
The silence settles between us, interrupted only by the soft thrum of the engine. I watch some woman walking through the garage to get to her car. I pretend I'm not listening to Alex's every movement.
"I don't think this is like the other times it's happened," Alex says softly. "I think something snapped in you this time. I think something broke."
I hate the way that sounds. Like I'm not strong enough to handle it. Other people have been through worse. Why the fuck can't I get over this?
Alex touches my shoulder but I still won't look at him. "I know what you're thinking. And it's nothing to be ashamed of."
I swallow hard and give him a nod, but he sees through it.
"You're not weak – you've been so strong your whole life. You just need to rest for now. Let yourself heal."
When I don't say anything, he squeezes my shoulder. "I was going to break this to you once you had some coffee and food in you but… I made you an appointment with a therapist."
I think I get whiplash from how fast I turn my head to look at him.
He shrugs one shoulder. "I had to, Dash. I can't help you the way a professional can. And you need someone to talk to."
"Alex-"
"You agreed to go," he interrupts me with.
My stomach twists at the thought. I did agree. But I didn't know he'd make an appointment this fast. I thought I'd have a little more time to back out if I wanted to.
"I didn't expect it to be so soon," I mumble, looking away from him.
He lets out a breath. "I wasn't planning to make it this early. I was going to wait until after you'd been in school for a week or two. Let you settle in." He's chewing on his lip when I manage to look at him. "But you need it now. You need to start talking to someone before you change your mind."
I've already changed my mind. I don't want to tell a stranger what happened to me. I don't want someone to see these bruises on my face and know the kind of man my father can be. I don't want them to know my own cowardice.
"It's this Friday morning."
Shit – Friday? That's only a few days from now. I start school the Monday after. I'm not ready for this. Any of it.
"Can you reschedule it?" I ask, my voice small even to my own ears.
Alex gives me a look before shaking his head. "No. If I cancel once, you'll ask me to cancel again and I'm not doing that. You need this."
"I won't ask you to again, I only want to-"
"The answer's no, Dash." He speaks kindly but I still hear my father with every word. It's like an itch I can't scratch. Something in me that I can't cut out. Alex is nothing like my father. But it's his voice in my head now.
I put my seatbelt on and turn to look out the window. I'm desperately trying to breathe past this anxiety clawing at my insides but it's hard. Alex is my rock. My mind is twisting him – likening him to my father in the simplest of ways.
They take their coffee almost the same way. When they speak, similar phrases come up. They have similarities. But fuck, they have differences too. Why am I not I focusing on those instead?
"Where do you want to go for breakfast?" I break the silence with.
He's quiet, letting the silence settle thickly over us again. He probably thinks I'm angry with him. But it's not his fault. He's doing what he can. I just can't take it when someone starts to care.
"I was thinking a diner. You ever been to the Starlit Café before? The one downtown – near Evan's bakery?"
I shift against the window, dropping my chin into my palm. "Yeah, my mom and I used to go there."
Alex is quiet again but he doesn't leave us in silence this time. "Bad memories associated with that place?"
"No."
If he's hoping to avoid any place that Mom and I went after Dad got through with us… we might as well leave Amity Park. He fucked with us so many times, it's impossible to pick out the places we went after and the places we didn't.
"Do you want to go somewhere else?"
I let out a breath, tearing my gaze from the window. "I don't care where we go. The diner's fine. Anywhere else is fine."
He meets my gaze but I won't hold his for long. I get enough from his expression. He's worried about me. We wouldn't be here if I hadn't run from him last night. And I wouldn't be stuck with a therapy appointment.
God, I wish I could take it all back.
Alex takes us to McDonalds. It's not the best place in town for breakfast but it's nearby. The faster I can get coffee in me, the better.
He handles ordering the food and I move behind him, drifting on like I have no conscious thought of my own.
I wait with him while the employee's gather our food and coffee's. When he passes one of the cups to me, I take it and start for a table in the back.
He follows after me and when we've both settled down, I start to eat. It does nothing for the knots in my stomach but I try to ignore the feeling in my gut. I don't want to go to therapy. I don't need it. I've always gotten by fine on my own.
We don't talk for a while. He keeps his gaze away from me and I chance looks at him – hoping he doesn't catch me staring. I don't know what he's keeping silent for. I'm not angry at him. I just wish he wouldn't push so hard sometimes.
"Can I ask you something?" I finally break the silence with.
He lifts his coffee from the table before looking my way again. His gaze doesn't quite reach mine. "Sure."
I watch him swallow several sips of his coffee before I speak. "Last night during dinner, Tatiana mentioned… something about Anastasia? Something about… coming out in a town like this?"
Alex sighs, shaking his head a little before he finally meets my gaze. "It happened a long time ago. It's ancient history, Dash."
I get the hint he's trying to send. But my shit is ancient too. And if it's still enough to make Tatiana uncomfortable with the thought of me and Danny, then it's not as buried as Alex thinks it is.
"Can you tell me a little of it?" I ask.
He sips from his coffee again. It's silent between us as he watches me. I feel like he's scrutinizing me with every passing second but I don't back down. I want to know what happened. If I know what's in the past, maybe it'll help prepare me for what the future might hold.
Alex sets his cup down again, his gaze drifting to the window. "When we were kids, there was… an incident with my father."
My gut clenches at the look on his face. Whatever he's dragging up for me is painful. I almost tell him to stop, but he continues before I can.
"Anastasia was playing in the backyard with some of the neighbor's kids. And… I guess spin the bottle was the game of choice at the moment." He sighs again, moving his stare from the window to the table.
He folds his arms and leans forward on the table. "Our father came outside to call her in for dinner and… he saw her kissing one of the girls."
"How old was she?" I ask, my voice small in the quiet that's fallen.
He chews on his bottom lip for a second. "Eight."
Shit, that's so young.
He scratches the underside of his chin, before lifting his coffee cup again. "Everyone in the neighborhood heard him screaming. Anastasia, too."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked, I'm-"
"It's okay." He looks at me then, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Ana told me after you left last night to tell you if you asked. She doesn't care if you know this."
I swallow hard, nodding despite the knots in my stomach. I don't know if I want to know this.
"Anyway." Alex sips from his coffee. "Over the years, Mom's always been kind of skittish when it comes to sexuality. She always pictures that night. So… they've fought for years over it. Mom wanting to keep her safe and Ana wanting to be who she is."
Fuck, I can understand them both. All Tatiana's trying to do is protect her. Me as well, I guess. But… Ana has to be herself. And I have to be me.
"It all blew up one night and I think the fallout of that is what really kills my mom. It's why she left last night."
I let out a shaky breath, resting my hands either side of my coffee cup. "What happened? What do you mean everything blew up?"
He sets his coffee cup down again and meets my gaze again. "Ana wanted to take a girl to junior prom. Mom told her that she didn't know what she was talking about, that she was just going through a phase. Asked if she really thought this through." He blows out a breath. "And you know how Ana can get sometimes. She immediately pushed back and when they were all done yelling, she left. Grabbed some of her clothes and took off."
Alex's phone vibrates against the table. I see Chuck's name on the screen before Alex swipes his phone and silences the call. He drops his phone back onto the table and runs his hand down his face.
"I was at work when they were blowing up at each other. So when I came home, Mom was hysterical, telling me everything. She'd been trying to call Anastasia since she'd left but Ana wasn't picking up. So Chuck and I had to track her down."
He shifts in his seat, letting out a quiet breath. "I know Mom was only scared that Ana was gonna get hurt somehow, but… I don't know. I've never had to deal with that kind of choice before – deciding if I want to be authentic or be safe. So… I can't say much about that."
I nod, my breath stuck in my throat again. If I'd known all of this last night, I never would have brought it up. It seems so simple now – like I should have picked up on this before.
"Anastasia told me to let you know that you can ask her anything about this," he says. There's a sympathetic expression on his face when I look up at him.
He lets out a breath and places his hand over top of my balled fist. He closes his hand gently around mine. "I can't imagine what it's like for you. But maybe… maybe Anastasia does. Just talk to her if you need to, okay?"
I swallow hard, dropping my stare again. I don't know if I could ever bring myself to ask Anastasia a thing. Something tells me if I ever do, she'd understand. I think she'd more than understand.
After we're finished with breakfast, we head back to the apartment. Kendra's bustling around the apartment when we come inside. She's got cookies baking and cooling, and the kitchen's pretty wrecked.
"Hey, boys," she calls out to us. She's drying her hands on the apron tied around her waist as she steps out of the kitchen.
She glances between us before crossing the distance between us. I expect her to go to Alex. But she heads for me instead. Wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tightly against her.
"We missed you," she says, her voice soft. It brings that lump to my throat again.
"I missed you guys, too," I say. It's not a lie – I would take last night back if I could.
She pulls away, smoothing the fabric of my hoodie with her hands. She runs her hands down my upper arms in a soothing manner. "Are you hungry?"
"We just had breakfast," Alex says, shrugging when Kendra and I look at him. "But you should have a cookie while they're warm. She makes the best cookies."
She smiles, shaking her head. "Careful, don't let your mother hear you say that."
He laughs, stepping past me to get into the kitchen. He swipes two cookies from the cooling rack and passes one to me.
I'm not that hungry, but I eat it anyway.
Alex nods in my direction, a grin pulling at his features. "Good, huh? Told you – the best."
Kendra rolls her eyes, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. He slides his arm around her shoulders, drawing her against his chest. He turns his head far enough to press a kiss to her hair.
I lick stray crumbs from my fingers, looking around the kitchen like there's anything new to see.
Someone clears their throat in front of me and I look up. Anastasia's just down the hall, grinning as she looks between me and Alex.
"What up, bitches?"
Alex pulls away from Kendra. "What are you doing here?"
"Dash left his jacket at Mom's last night." She looks at me with a grin. "Which, by the way, have you ever considered getting something from this century to wear, huh?"
Heat washes over my face but I scoff anyway. "Hey, that was my grandfathers."
"Oh. Sorry." Anastasia rocks backward on the balls of her feet. "Were you, like… close with him?"
I shrug. "I don't really remember him."
"Hm, that's a pity," Alex says. He gives me a sympathetic look. "We were both very close with ours."
Anastasia slides her hands into her back pockets, shrugging when I look at her. "So what's going on? What are you guys doing today?"
"Why? Are you trying to cut from work?" Alex asks.
She rolls her eyes. "Please. Like you even need me there."
He arches an eyebrow. "I do. Keith called – he's not coming in today."
I look up at his name, glancing between the two of them. "Wait, he's not?"
Alex looks to me, shaking his head. "No, why?"
I slide my phone from my back pocket, shaking my head as I pull up my text messages. I haven't texted Keith since that night after the championship game. When he asked me to find out if Kwan liked him.
To: Keith
Hey man. I just heard you're not coming in to work today?
I hope everything's okay
"-which will probably be tomorrow, if he's not busy. Right, Dash?"
I look up from my phone and find all three of them looking at me. Heat floods my face again. "Uh… sorry?"
Alex gives me a patient smile. "I was telling Ana that you and I will probably go tomorrow to get the stuff you need for school."
"Oh. Right, yeah, whenever." I drop my gaze back to my phone but I can't focus on Keith anymore. I register the ding of the kitchen timer and Kendra drifting away from us, before I look up again.
Alex is telling Anastasia something about Chuck – most of what he's saying is in Spanish – but I interrupt anyway. If I don't say it now, I might not say it at all.
"Actually…" I look to Anastasia. My heart pounds in my chest. "If you wouldn't mind, could I go with you tomorrow? To… get the stuff I need."
She raises one eyebrow, looking between me and Alex. My face is hot, but I push the rest out anyway.
"It's just… I thought we could… talk." It's stilted as hell and I can barely talk above a whisper, but I get it out.
Ana nods, giving Alex a final glance before she turns back to me. "Okay, sure. Sounds like a plan."
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I break the stare Ana has me trapped in. Keith's name flashes on my screen.
From: Keith
Thanks for checking in. Things are okay
Shit. I know what 'okay' means. When Dad would do his worst to me and Kwan would text, I'd always say I was okay. Never good or fine or great. It was always okay. Like this whisper of a promise – a promise that if I just believed it hard enough, I'd actually be okay.
To: Keith
I'm sorry. I hope it gets better soon
My situation was different than what Keith's going through right now with his sister, but… pain is pain. And I can only hope that he understands that my words are sincere.
I'm lying on the couch, the TV on low across the room. I'm not even watching it. But I need the background noise.
My phone rings, the sound loud in the lull between the commercials.
I flip my screen over on my stomach and pick it up. I read Kwan's name twice before I answer.
"Hello?"
Kwan sighs heavily. "Hey. Keith said you texted him earlier?"
I roll over on the couch, my fingers slowly going numb at the tone of Kwan's voice. I've given him that tone before. I know what it means.
"Uhh… yeah, I did. What's… what's going on?" I ask.
He's quiet for a few, long moments. And when he speaks, it's in a whisper. "There's just a lot going on. Keith's… he's dealing with a lot."
I swallow hard, nodding even though he can't see me. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
He sighs again. "Dash, I love you for asking, but honestly… no. He's…" he trails off, making a soft noise before he continues. "I'm just trying to keep everything together right now. Keith's really bad right now. I've… I've been spending most nights at his place."
My heart skips a beat.
"What do you mean he's really bad? Why?" I ask, my hand cold around my phone.
"It's Lily," Kwan says. "His sister? She's getting worse. And… their insurance company is denying them a chance at a double lung transplant. Keith's in a really weird place right now."
God. I can't even imagine what he's going through right now. What his parents must be going through. Fuck, and I've been worried about what Tatiana thinks of me?
"I'm sorry," I say, my words intended for much more than just the situation they're in right now.
He makes a soft noise again. "We'll get through it. That's what I keep telling Keith. Sometimes that's the only thing I can say."
"Yeah, I can imagine."
Silence falls between us and I shift my stare around the living room – trying to figure out what to say. My words have always meant so little, but… I'd give anything to have something to say.
"How've you been?" Kwan breaks the silence with.
I let out a breath, pushing my hair back from my forehead with one hand. "I've… I can't really complain. I've probably been doing better than you lately, all things considered."
"Well… consider this. I'm your best friend and I actually want to know how you've been. What have you been up to since we last talked?"
I glance around the living room again, trying to figure out where I should start. So much has gone down since I last talked with Kwan. God, that day we spent at the mall feels like a lifetime ago.
"For starters, I uh… I kind of moved out of my dad's place. Like… Like, officially."
"Whoa, are you serious?" he asks.
I tangle my fingers in my hair, trying to swallow down the anxiety picking at me. "Uhh, yeah. Yeah, I'm serious."
"That's incredible. Why didn't you call me? I would have helped you move your stuff."
I tighten my hold on my hair for a few seconds before I let it go. "That's alright. I had people with me. Alex and Chuck… and you know. It went fine."
Kwan laughs quietly. "And was Danny one of these people too?"
"So what if he was?" I ask, my cheeks warming anyway.
"Nothing, that's just cute," he says.
Warm nothing, my face is on fire. "Oh, shut up."
He laughs again, his voice softer when he speaks again. "Seriously though. You guys have been good? You're ready for school and everything?"
I roll my eyes. "Yes, Mom – I've got my lunch packed and everything."
"Piss off. You know what I mean," Kwan says, but he's laughing with the words.
I can't help but grin, too. "Yeah, man, it's all good. I'm actually… uh, tomorrow, I'm actually going to get some clothes. Most of my stuff is in boxes right now, so."
"Well, you can never have too many clothes," he says, letting out a small breath. "I could come with you tomorrow if you want company."
I roll over toward the TV, watching the screen as I talk. "No, that's okay. I've got someone coming with me."
"Is that someone-"
"No, it's not Danny. Now shut up," I cut him off with, grinning as I say the words.
Kwan laughs loudly and it's a relief to hear. I might not be able to help either Keith or Kwan with the situation going on right now, but… I can do this. I can talk to my best friend on the phone until he laughs. At the very least, I can do this.
Anastasia picks me up at noon. Unlike Alex's car, Ana's carries the faint scent of cigarette smoke. Knowing how often she smokes, I'm surprised the scent isn't stronger.
We hit the Starbucks near Alex's apartment for the necessary caffeine before heading to the mall. She blasts pop music on the drive, singing off-key to every song that plays. Even some of the new stuff I haven't heard.
When we're a few minutes away from the mall, she kills the music. Pushes her hair back with a sigh. "So… how's life with Alex and Kendra?"
I shift my gaze from the passenger window to Ana. She's got her gaze fixed on the road even though we're at a red light.
"What do you mean?"
She rolls her eyes, looking toward me. "What do I mean? I mean – how is it? Do you like living with them? Are you ready to drive rusty forks through your eyes every time they start coupling it up?"
I snort, which makes her laugh. "Everything's fine. I… I like living with them."
"Good." She turns her attention back to the road.
I scratch the underside of my chin, turning my attention out the window for a few seconds before I look back at her. "Why?"
"Why what?" she asks, frowning when she looks at me. "Why'd I ask? Cause I'm curious, that's all."
She turns into the mall's parking lot, navigating around other drivers with a quiet swear. She mumbles something about nobody in this town knowing how to drive and I can't help but grin.
"What are you smirking at?" she asks when she finds a parking space toward the back of the lot.
I shake my head, concealing my expression before I look at her. "I'm not smirking at anything."
She narrows her eyes just a touch before unbuckling her seatbelt. She pops the door open before glancing back at me. "Come on. Let's go find you some clothes that actually came from this era."
"Hey, my clothes are fine!" I call after she gets out of the car, slamming the door shut behind her. I zip my jacket before I follow her out of the car, shivering in the sudden lack of heat.
She's waiting at the end of her car when I get out. I shut the door behind me and jog over to her, my breath hanging in the air when I exhale.
"Fuck, it's cold."
Anastasia grins, nodding up toward the front of the mall. "Let's get some shopping done and we'll grab another coffee. Probably lunch, too."
We set off for the front doors together, walking briskly across the parking lot. We pass other shoppers, huddled down in their coats and scarves. I wonder what the ones coming are in search of and the ones leaving were here for. I wonder if they found it, or if they're on their way to search elsewhere. If it's-
Ana throws her arm across my chest, knocking me backward a pace. A car comes flying down the area clearly marked yield and Ana throws her middle finger up at the driver.
"Fuck you, you fucking asshole! You know what yield means, you fucking jerk-off?" she hollers, holding her middle finger up higher as the car drives off.
I let out a breath, glancing after the driver before I nudge her arm. "I think they got the message."
She drops her hand, looking toward me with a sigh. "Assholes. Who the hell drives like that? They could have hit either one of us."
"It's okay. We're both fine," I say, starting across the parking lot again.
She follows after me, mumbling a few swears under her breath as she walks. Once we're inside, she shakes it off with a heavy exhale.
"Alright, where do you want to start?" she asks, glancing out toward the expanse of stores in front of us.
Shoppers move past us, like two stones in a flowing river. I glance around at the few storefronts ahead of us before I spy the directory a few paces down from the first store.
"Let's see what's here," I say, starting toward it.
Ana follows behind me, and when we're in front of the directory, she quickly scans the list on the left. She makes a tsking noise. "Well, we can start at Old Navy. At the very least, their jeans are attractive."
"What about GAP?" I ask, pointing to it on the directory. "It's actually a few stores before Old Navy, we could hit it on the way."
She makes a disgusted face, shaking her head as she looks at me. "No, Dash. You're not a GAP guy. Trust me."
"What do you-"
"Here, look," she says, pointing to a different section on the directory. "Hot Topic, Spencer's… yeah, this where you want to be."
"I'm not emo," I say.
She snorts, shaking her head as she steps back from the directory. "Neither am I but their jeans make my ass look great. Now come on."
I follow after her as she starts away from the directory. I have to skirt a couple of shoppers to catch up to her.
"What did you mean back there? That I'm not a GAP guy?"
She looks at me with a frown. "Seriously? GAP guys are total preppy douches. They're the guys that brag about their parents owning a yacht or belonging to the country club or whatever bullshit they say."
I snort. "I don't think I've ever met a GAP guy then."
"Seriously? You're in high school. Those guys are everywhere." She slows her walk, scanning the store fronts on her side. "I think Hot Topic is coming up soon."
I look up ahead, catching the sign for it. "It's dead ahead, Ana."
She looks where I point and smiles, giving me a nod. We cross the rest of the distance in silence, weaving around other people and trying to avoid the general rush of mall shoppers.
As soon as we're inside, she whistles softly, glancing around at the selection of t-shirts and hoodies hanging up on the wall.
I look around at some of the t-shirts, pausing to read one with a quote on it.
"Man, I haven't been in here since I was a teenager," she says, letting out a breath. "Back when I had a crush on the girl who stocked the place."
I glance toward her, swallowing hard before I speak. "Yeah? You… did anything ever… happen with that?"
She frowns, shaking her head. "No. She was figuring herself out and needed a college in California to help her do that. So… that's that."
I nod a couple of times, shifting my gaze away from her. I don't know what I should say to that. Obviously, that girl doesn't know what she missed out on. Ana's great. But… somehow, I don't think that's what she wants to hear.
"Oh, here we go," Ana says, grinning as she pulls a shirt off the rack. I don't recognize the character depiction, but the bright rainbow coloring catches my attention.
Anastasia snorts at the expression on my face. "I'm kidding. I wouldn't actually suggest something like that for high school. Surprisingly, I want your face to be recognizable after a day with high school aged pricks."
I give an awkward laugh as she puts the shirt back on the rack. I don't know that this store is really my style. I can see Danny pulling this off easily. But… I don't know about me.
"I think we should try a different store," I say.
She shifts her gaze around the store for a few seconds before looking to me. "Okay. You want to try Old Navy?"
"Yeah, that's fine," I say as we leave the store together.
We cut a path through the crowd on our way to the store. That coffee I had on the way here is sitting like a solid lump in my stomach now.
Anastasia strolls to a stop in front of a shoe store, nodding toward the entrance. "They're having a sale. And you desperately need some new shoes."
"What's wrong with my shoes?" I ask, glancing down at them.
She makes a face when I look up at her again. "Please. Those Chuck's look like you haven't bought new ones in six years."
My face warms and I scoff, but I follow her into the store anyway.
She makes a soft humming noise as she scans the shelves. She runs her fingers along the sides of the shoes as we walk, stopping to admire a few Nike's.
"What do you think of these?" she asks, picking up a pair of black Nike's.
I shrug, shuffling further down the line. "I don't know. I spend a lot of time in my running shoes or my football cleats, so… whatever's functional works for me. Bonus points if it's cheap."
"Okay, fair enough, but… don't you want to look nice when you take Danny out for dates?"
I feel the heat flush down the back of my neck, and like a bad reflex, I look over my shoulder. Scan the rest of the store to see if anyone's listening.
When no one catches my eye, I look back to Anastasia with a shrug. "I don't think Danny really cares about my footwear."
She lets out a sigh, setting the shoe back on the shelf. She touches the toe of the one next to it before looking at me. "Just so you know… it gets easier. That urge to look over your shoulder? You learn to kill it."
My heart skips a beat, and my first instinct is to deny it. Pretend that I wasn't checking that anyone heard the brief mention of my boyfriend. But… what's the point? It's Ana. She's not an idiot. And she knows what this is like.
I nod, returning my stare to the shoes. All the styles and colors swim in front of me and I wish I was anywhere but here. How am I supposed to make decisions when I'm like this?
"Come on. Move further down. You're not an athletic shoe person."
"You know I am an athlete, right?"
She prods me in the side with her index finger. "Yeah, yeah. Get moving. You're not one of those athletes."
"What do you mean?" I ask, moving down the aisle anyway.
Ana stops me when we're closer to Converse and Vans – both of which, I own a pair of. She picks up a pair of white Converse and holds them out to me. "Try these."
I put them back on the shelf, cutting her off when she starts to squawk. "Wrong size."
She takes the box from me when I find them, waiting until I look at her before she speaks. "Sure, you're an athlete. But you're not one of those blowhards that's always bragging and flashing their ridiculously expensive athletic gear."
"Met a lot of those, huh?" I ask, managing a grin when she rolls her eyes.
She presses the box against my chest for me to take hold of. "My point is… I like you the way you are. And I… I don't want you changing for anybody, okay?"
"Did Alex tell you to say that?" I ask, only half-kidding with the question.
She sighs, sliding a pair of Vans off the shelf to look at. "No, Dash. Believe it or not, I didn't come with you to be my brother's mouthpiece."
I swallow hard, gripping the box tighter. "Then… why did you come?"
Ana hesitates a moment. But when she meets my gaze, I know she's thinking exactly what I am. She came for the same reason I asked her to. We're alike. Despite our differences, we're these kindred spirits and I know that, at the very least, I've never felt a connection to anyone like this before.
She lets out a breath, holding the Vans up higher for me to see. "What do you think? Too loud?"
The design on the black shoes is this wild, geometric pattern with bright oranges and reds dominating the majority of the shoe.
"I think the 80's called and they want their color scheme back."
She snorts loudly, and the sound gets me laughing, too. And the anxiety swirling in my gut fucks off for a few moments. Long enough for me to crack up in the middle of a shoe store with Anastasia.
Anastasia talks me into getting two pairs of shoes – a "practical" pair, i.e: a new pair of black Converse to replace the ones I'm currently wearing, and a "date" pair.
She assures me that the shoes you wear on a date ensures whether or not you go home with your date for the night.
"Don't you think you're a little too concerned with my sex life?" I ask, earning a smack to my shoulder for the comment. I can't help but grin as her face reddens.
"Shut up. Come on, let's pay for these and get something to eat," she says, taking the shoes from me as we get up to the counter.
I reach for my wallet as the woman behind the counter scans the shoes, but Anastasia beats me to it, quickly sliding cash across the counter.
"Ana, I've got this," I say, trying to hand my card over.
She bats my hand away. "No. I've got it. Put your card away," she says, turning to give me a look when I don't immediately put my wallet back.
"Alright, alright." I put my card away as Anastasia gets the change and receipt from the cashier.
I hear her say thanks before she turns toward me, nodding to the exit. We start off together and she hands me the bag while she puts her change away.
"Don't look so guilty. This cash is from Alex."
I look toward as she slips her wallet into her back pocket. "This is Alex's money?"
She nods. "You know as well as I do that if you'd gone with him, he wouldn't have let you spend your money, either. Now stop whining and let's get some food."
I know it's pointless to try to argue with her. So I simply follow her to the food court instead, wondering if she'll stop me from paying for that, too.
Anastasia agrees to split the food cost, but she pays for way more than half. She ignores me when I tell her it's too much, but at least she swipes my card for the remaining balance.
When we've both got our food, Ana picks a table at the edge of the food court – facing a coffee shop that I'll definitely check out when we're finished eating.
"So, I know you didn't want me to bring it up in that shoe store earlier, but… how are things with you and Danny?" she asks.
I feel the heat across my face when she asks. Even though I have nothing to be ashamed of, I still blush when I think of him. I'm still trying to figure out how much of that is cause Danny does things to my heart and how much of it is cause I'm an anxious mess when I think about guys.
"Things are good. Really good," I say, biting a fry in half.
She nods when I look up at her. "Awesome. I like him, he seems really nice."
"He is," I say, feeling that heat creep down my neck when I keep going. "And he's… like the smartest person I know. He's… seriously, he's incredible."
Anastasia smiles as she slurps from her soda. When I meet her gaze, I speak before I can stop myself. I don't know why I say it, I just… say it.
"Sometimes I have no idea what he's doing with me," I blurt out, a rush of air leaving my lungs with the words.
She frowns, setting down her soda again. "What do you mean?"
I palm the back of my neck, trying to find the words. The noise of the food court surrounds me, sinking into my flesh like any attempt at speech will only be swallowed up by the noise.
"I don't know," I say.
Ana raises an eyebrow. "Bullshit."
I drop my stare to the table with a sigh. "I'm not sure that I deserve him, to be honest."
"Why not?"
I shift my gaze away from her. Over to the coffee shop a couple of paces from our table. I don't know how to put it into words. Or… maybe I'm just scared to put it into words.
"You've seen him," I start with, watching a couple leave the coffee shop together before I continue. "He's just… and I'm… this and… I don't know. I'm no good at being a boyfriend. How come a guy like me even gets a shot with him?"
Anastasia's quiet for a few minutes. Long enough for me to watch other people leave the coffee shop. People with their own lives. People who probably don't sit in mall food courts wondering if they'll ever be enough for their boyfriend.
"You know something about me?" Anastasia waits until I look at her before she answers her own question. "I love to sing – I absolutely love it. I know I'm completely tone deaf, but why should that stop me from doing something I enjoy?"
"Ana, this is-"
"Different, I know," she interrupts me with.
Her expression softens after a few seconds and she reaches across the table toward me. She stops short of touching me and I can't tell where her hesitation is coming from. "Don't talk yourself out of something you love."
My face warms and I can't meet her gaze anymore. "It's… not like that."
"Please. I know you're thinking it's too soon, but trust me… it's never too soon for love."
Her gaze has shifted out into the mall when I look at her. I can't tell what she's looking at, but I get the feeling that she's not really looking at anything.
"You know when you're in love," she says, letting out a soft sigh. "It's not a feeling – that shit's fleeting. It's… a fact. You don't feel like you love someone. You just do. You know you do."
I nod slowly, picking over the words in my head until I can ask the question. "Have you ever known that with someone?"
Ana scoffs, looking back toward me with a shrug. "I'm cursed with it. Every person I ever date I fall desperately in love with."
I start to ask a question, but I stop, going over her words again. If she has it with every relationship… with every person she's ever dated… then how-
"How do you know it's real then?" I ask, frowning as I look up at her. And the words she chooses to give me ring in my ears – reminding me just how little I know of love.
She tilts her head to one side, a pained smile twisting her features. "It's all real, Dash."
When we've finished eating, we hit up a couple more clothing stores. I find some decent jeans and t-shirts in a couple of the places. One of the shirts that she picks out is ridiculously expensive, so I put it back when she isn't looking.
I think she can tell that it happened on purpose, cause she keeps a close on me from then on. Which is how I find myself in another store, staring down at a leather jacket that's definitely too expensive.
"You gotta at least try it on," Ana's saying, pulling the jacket off the hanger before I've even said anything about it. But I guess she can tell from my expression.
I shake my head, not reaching for it even when she holds it out toward me. "I could never pull that off."
"Pshaw, you could pull off anything," she insists.
"Ana, this is… really expensive," I say, grabbing the price tag that's dangling off one sleeve. I flip it over to show her the price, but it doesn't faze her.
She shrugs, thrusting the jacket toward me. "Well let's see how it fits. Maybe it's not your style. Then we won't even have to waste time squabbling about the price."
I sigh, taking the jacket from her. I see no way out of this other than to try it on, so I nod toward the mirror a few steps away from us.
She follows me over to the mirror and stands back as I slip the jacket on over my shoulders and adjust it until it's laying right. And… it doesn't look too bad. I still don't know if I can pull this off, but I like it.
"That looks good on you." Ana grins when I look from the mirror to her. "Seriously – you look badass."
I shake my head with a laugh. Looking back at the mirror tells me a different story. I still look like me. No badassery to be found.
"I don't know about that…."
"I do." She folds her arms over her chest as she moves closer to me. "Poor Danny's gonna have a heart attack when he sees you."
I don't need the mirror to tell me that I'm red in the face again.
"You should send him a picture – give him a little preview," she says, grinning wickedly when I look at her. "I'm assuming you have his Snapchat?"
"Uhh… yeah, I do. But-"
"Nope, not taking any excuses. Give me your phone."
I'm torn between wanting to know Danny's reaction and being too fucking embarrassed to take a photo in the middle of a crowded store.
Anastasia holds her hand out toward me, wiggling her fingers. "Phone. Come on, give it."
I sigh, but pull my phone from my back pocket anyway. She's not likely to relent any time soon.
As soon as she has my phone, she goes full fucking photographer on me. Changes her angle twice, tells me to turn a little to the left – she even fucking squats to get it just right. But the photo she shows me isn't bad. Somehow, she made me look like I'm pulling this off better than I feel like I am.
"Send it before you second guess yourself." She nudges my arm when I hesitate too long. "If you wait any longer, I'll write an embarrassing caption and send it for you."
That threat's enough to spur me into action. I press send before she can humiliate me in some way. And before I can talk myself out of it. When the message disappears from my screen – headed off to ping Danny's phone, I breathe a little sigh of relief.
I slide my phone into my back pocket again and shrug the jacket off. I don't know why I'm waiting on Danny's reaction… I could never get this jacket.
"I think I'm gonna pass on this," I say, putting it back on the hanger.
Anastasia makes a strangled noise in her throat and dives for the hanger before I can put it back on the rack. She cradles the jacket close to her chest, giving me a look when I meet her gaze.
"You are not passing this up. It looks great on you AND I happen to know that you really want it," she says, cutting me off when I try to argue. "We're getting it. Now shut up and help me find a white button down. Alex says you need one."
She starts away from me, and I turn from the jacket display. "What do I need a button down for?"
"Beats me. What did Danny think of the jacket?"
My face colors, but my phone has no unread notifications. I shake my head as I put my phone away again. "Nothing. He probably hasn't seen it yet."
Ana tsks softly, continuing on toward the men's shirts. She stops once to look at a pair of jeans – to which I remind her that I have plenty now – before coming to a stop in front of the button down's.
"Just a white one?" I ask, sliding one off the shelf. I check the sizing before I put it back, shifting through the stack to find the right size.
Ana nods when I look over my shoulder at her. "Yep. He told me specifically in his list – you had to have one. You'll have to ask him to know the end of that mystery."
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I nearly have a heart attack, right there in front of the button down's. I shift my hold on the shirt to my other hand, freeing up the one closest to my phone to pull it from my back pocket.
I feel the warmth spread across my face as his messages appear on my screen, his little avatar still typing at the bottom of the screen.
Danny: heeeeeey good looking
tell me you got that jacket plz I'm dying
also who took this photo of you?
can I hire them to always take your photos?
When I get several heart-eye emoji's followed by a couple of drooling emoji's, I can't hold back the spluttering noise anymore. What the hell is he trying to do to me?
"Sooo… I take it Danny likes the jacket?" Ana asks, grinning when I look up at her.
"Shut up," I mumble, looking back to my phone like I'm afraid the messages will disappear. God, he really is gonna be the death of me.
Ana lets out a soft breath. "See, this is why I keep telling my mom that we can't live in the closet."
My heart skips a beat at her words and I look up at her. She holds my gaze, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. I think we both knew this conversation was gonna happen at some point today. But I wasn't expecting her to bring it up now.
I let out a breath, turning my phone screen off as I nod. "Yeah, that's…" I clear my throat and try again. "You're right, we can't… we can't do that. And… we shouldn't have to."
Anastasia holds my stare for a few moments longer before looking away with a sigh. She nods, and it feels like there's so much left unsaid. So much either of us could add to this conversation.
I slide my phone into my back pocket, blowing out a breath. "Alex said that… she's pretty much been like that since you were a kid."
"Yeah, she has," Ana says, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm assuming he also told you what happened with that?"
I nod, swallowing hard as I meet her gaze. "Yeah, he… yeah."
She clears her throat, nodding once. "We should probably head to the checkout. Unless you want to try this on first?"
Ana holds up the button-down and I shake my head. She drops it on top of the jacket again and we start toward the check-out together.
She pays for the jacket and the button down. I stay silent until we're out of the store. Until people are thrumming past us – on their way to get their own shopping done, too busy to notice us. To hear me speak.
"I know people that won't… that can't be out. And I… I don't want to be in that situation."
I speak the words softly, but they still make Ana come to a stop. It's sudden – and I'm a half-step ahead of her before I realize it.
Her expression is unreadable when I turn to look back at her. Like she's studying me. As if I'm not doing the same to her.
"I know what you mean," she says.
I nod, dropping my stare down to the carpeted flooring in the mall. There's a million things buzzing around inside my head and I pick over them carefully, trying to breathe calm back into my bones.
"I figured… you of all people would understand that," I say.
Ana closes the distance between us, clutching my arm as soon as she's near. She shakes my arm a little and when I look up at her, it's like the floodgates in her mouth have broken loose.
"You can't let her try and talk you into hiding who you are. There are always going to be people that have a problem with it. But that doesn't make it your problem. It's on them. And to those people… you just… fuck them, okay? They're not worth your time if they honestly care that much about who you're going out with."
She drags in a breath, shaking her head slowly as I nod. "I mean it, Dash. Don't let her get inside your head and think that you have any reason to hide. I know she's only trying to protect us. But… god, she doesn't understand how much hiding hurts."
"I guess I'm lucky then," I say, giving her a soft smile. "I only started dating Danny recently. I haven't really had to hide it."
Ana groans softly, pulling me into a hug. She wraps one arm around my back, the other holding a few of the shopping bags. I laugh, sliding my arms around her back.
"I'm fine, Ana," I say.
She squeezes me gently. "I know. And for what it's worth, I hope you never have to hide."
We're quiet when we get in the car, the bags of clothes spread across her backseat. It's weird getting this much shit at once. Whenever Mom took me shopping before a new school year, it was always just two pairs of jeans and a couple of t-shirts. I'm not sure I've ever done something like this before.
Ana turns the heat down a few miles down the road and I watch the holiday lights on the outside of the mall zip past us.
The silence presses down on me, telling me not to say a word. But I feel it clawing inside of me. Something that has to be said. To be done.
"Can we make a pit-stop before you drop me off?" I ask.
Ana looks toward me, a sly smile on her face. "Why? You want to give Danny a peak at your new threads?"
"No. And who the hell says 'new threads' anymore? Isn't that a relic from the 90's?" I ask, ignoring the way my face burns. I'm glad it's dark in her car – I'm sure she'd say something if she could see my face.
She leans over and playfully swats my shoulder. "Hush up, whippersnapper or there'll be no pit stop for you. Where do you want me to stop anyway?"
I swallow hard and keep my gaze trained out the windshield. "Your mom's place."
"Shit, Dash," she says, tightening her grip on the wheel. She switches lanes with a heavy sigh before looking toward me. "What do you want to go there for?"
I shrug, turning my gaze out the window. I'm not sure I'll be able to put it into words.
A few seconds pass in silence before she speaks.
"I'm not stopping unless you tell me."
I turn to look at her. "I just want to talk. It won't take long."
"About what?" she asks, frowning when I stay silent. "What – this? What we talked about today? No, Dash. You can't just go in there and bounce her and expect me to-"
"Will you relax? I'm not going to bounce her," I say, cutting her off when she tries to interrupt. "Look, this is something I need to do, okay? Trust me."
She lets out a long sigh, followed by a quiet swear. But she doesn't try to talk me out of it. And I think that she gets it. That the longer I let this go on, the worse it'll be to confront it.
I'm not angry with Tatiana. I just can't do what she's asked of me.
Anastasia pulls to a stop at the end of the driveway, cutting the engine. The heat clicks off and the familiar purr of the engine falls quiet.
"You should go in alone. If I come in, too, it'll just look like we're ganging up on her," Ana says.
I get the hint of kidding to her tone and it makes me smile. I unbuckle my seat-belt with one hand before I look at her.
"I'll be quick."
She shifts her gaze out the windshield with a shrug. "Take your time."
I open the car door and when the cold hits me, I falter for a moment. Wonder why I'm doing this – why it even matters if Tatiana knows where I stand. She'll get on board eventually, right?
I glance toward Anastasia but she's not looking at me. And something about the uncertainty circling my brain just makes me want to do this more.
I close the door behind me and start up the driveway, burying my hands in the pockets of my jeans. Huh… of all the winter shopping we did today, I didn't even consider gloves.
When I get to the porch, I nearly turn back. My gut clenches – heart starts pounding. I reconsider everything that led me to this moment. But… one thing gets me on the porch and ringing the doorbell.
The thought of standing on this porch – months down the line. With Danny at my side. Both of us welcomed in for another family dinner.
Tatiana answers after about a minute of standing in the cold. She has a dishtowel in her hands, suds clinging to her wrists and the back of one hand. It's such a familiar look on her, it makes my heart ache.
"Dash, hello," she greets, smiling as she opens the door wider. "Alexander didn't tell me you were coming over. Come in, come in."
I step into her house, my heart rattling around inside me as the screen door shuts behind me.
Tatiana continues drying her hands on the towel, smiling brightly at me. "What brings you by? Is Alex with you?"
She looks out the screen door, craning her head to see down the driveway.
"No, he's… he's not here," I say.
Tatiana slowly looks back to me. And something about the expression on her face unnerves me. Like she knows just from a glance what I'm here for. Guilt washes over me and for a moment, I have no idea why. Until Monday night'sdinner hits me.
I draw in a breath, slowly letting it out before I speak. "I'm sorry about dinner the other day. I… I shouldn't have pushed you like that."
Tatiana smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She places a hand on my shoulder with a nod. "It's alright, Tesoro."
"But… I want you to know that I meant what I said." I hold her stare when she meets mine. "I'm not hiding because some people don't like it. I'm not… I'm not going to let them make me afraid."
The smile she gives me is sad, but when she nods, I think she's doing more than agreeing. I think she gets what I'm saying. But I still have to say the words. Before they come bursting out of me, I have to tell her everything.
"I know you might not agree with me, and you… you think that keeping it quiet is safer. And… hell, maybe it is. But… I don't care about safety. I care about honesty."
I let out a breath, finally breaking the staring contest we've been locked into. I can't be this weird, twisted version of myself. I can't pretend to be straight. I suffered through one dinner with Danny at my side, desperately pretending to be someone I'm not. I can't pretend anymore.
"I really like being here, Tatiana. I love… being able to spend time with you and your family. You guys are…" I trail off, shaking my head as I swallow hard. "I can't put it into words, but you're all seriously, just… amazing. And I never want to do anything to lose that. To… to lose you."
Tatiana makes a soft noise, pulling me into a hug. She holds me tightly, the scent of dish soap strong on her skin. I wrap my arms around her and she sighs softly.
"You're not going to lose me, Tesoro. You're a part of the family now."
My eyes sting with the words, and I try to blink them away. I'm not sure how successful I am – because when Tatiana pulls away, her expression is sad.
"It's alright, Tesoro. Tu tienes que ser tu mismo." She pats my cheeks with the words. She nods when I meet her stare, her smile brightening. "You have to be you."
I nod, stepping back when she drops her hands from my face. The awkwardness seems to be standing in the air now, and I'm grateful that Anastasia's waiting on me outside. If it was just me here, I don't think I could figure out a way to leave.
"I should probably head out," I say, nodding toward the door. "Ana's in the car waiting on me, so…"
Tatiana looks from me to the door with a frown. "Why didn't she come in?"
I shrug when she looks back at me. I don't think she needs me to tell her that Ana feels the same as me. Knowing them, they've probably argued about this before.
She lets out a soft breath with a nod. "I see. Well… tell her I said I love her. And… tell her to call me later."
"Okay, I will," I say, closing the distance between us when she opens her arms for another hug.
Tatiana holds me tightly, rubbing her hands on my back in a circular motion. Like when Alex hugs me. I guess it's a trait he got from her.
"You should come by again soon," Tatiana says when she pulls away. "We'll have dinner again. Do it right this time."
I can't help but smile. "Like a do-over?"
"Exactly," she laughs, smiling brightly as she reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Her touch lingers on my cheek and her expression turns a little sad when she speaks. "You… seem to be healing well."
My heart skips a beat in my chest and I'm back in my living room. Watching Dad standing over me. Gun in hand. Cold meatal against my forehead.
I step back from her, letting out a rough breath. "Yeah, I'm… I'm doing alright."
Tatiana frowns, placing her hand on my arm. "Tesoro, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, I'm fine. Just tired," I say, pasting a smile on my face. I jerk my thumb toward the door and take a step backward toward it. "Like I said though, Ana's waiting on me so… I should get going."
She's still frowning as I leave, but I don't offer up an explanation. How do you tell someone that you still picture your father standing over you like that?
How do you admit that sometimes you wish he'd pulled the trigger?
We're both quiet on the way back to the apartment. I only when Ana's pulling into a parking space outside the building.
"Can you not mention to either of them that we stopped by Tatiana's?" I ask.
She kills the engine before looking at me. The streetlamp overhead is dim, throwing her face into half-shadows. But when she nods, I catch the frown on her face.
"It's your business, kid. You can keep it from whoever you want – I won't say a word."
I let out a breath, nodding as I turn my gaze to the apartment. "Thank you."
Ana unbuckles her seatbelt. "Come on. Let's go before Alex calls wondering where we are."
The two of us get out of her carand load ourselves up with the shopping bags. We make our way up the stairs and just before we hit the door, it opens.
Kendra's in the doorway, surprise coloring her expression when she sees us.
"Oh, you're home. Come in," she says, stepping back to let us in. I follow Ana into the apartment and we set the bags down on the floor as Kendra pushes the door shut behind us.
Kendra pulls her cardigan around herself more tightly. "Alex was just wondering where you were."
Ana looks at me with an 'I-told-you' smirk. It makes me snort and Kendra's gaze turns curious as she looks between us.
"Did you guys have fun?" she asks.
I glance at Anastasia, shrugging one shoulder. "Yeah, I'd say so."
"This one has the most boring taste ever," Ana says, shaking her head as she looks to Kendra. "Literally everything he picked was neutral colors. The most color I got to force on him was a blue so dark it might as well have been black."
My face flushes as Kendra laughs. "She wanted me to wear a mustard yellow t-shirt. Can you really see me wearing yellow?"
"I didn't want you to wear the yellow one, I was showing you the style of shirt, oh my god," Ana says, swatting me on the shoulder. "I tried to get you to go for the red one but oh nooo, it had to be in black."
Kendra's cracking up and I can't help but grin as I roll my eyes.
"I can't help it if I know my color palette," I say.
A door shuts down the hall and I turn to look.
"Hey, you guys are home?" Alex asks, coming down the hall. He has a towel draped around his neck, his hair still dripping.
"Yup. I got Dash here all sorted. I did the best I could, but alas… his neutral palette stayed the same," she says.
I almost laugh again. But the scars that run across Alex's bare chest surprises me. A long, white scar runs from the left of his navel halfway up his stomach. Smaller ones run along his pelvis, and several irregular oval shaped ones dot across his chest.
Alex clears his throat softly and with the heat that rushes to my face, I realize he caught me staring. I'm quick to look away, but the damage is already done.
There's a half-second of awkward silence. Where I feel like I should speak, but can't bring myself to. But he doesn't let me flounder.
"Did you get everything off the list I texted you?" he asks, looking at Anastasia when I chance a quick look toward him.
"Yep. I wouldn't say we stuck to it exactly but a variation of everything on the list made it home with us," she says.
I swallow hard, looking up as I ask the question. "What uhh… what's the… button-down for?"
Alex meets my stare and his expression softens when he smiles. "You have a dance coming up soon, right?"
"What dance?"
He frowns, squeezing moisture out of his hair with the towel. "I don't know. Something toward the end of January. Danny mentioned it the last time I saw him."
"Oh… yeah, that's… yeah, there's the winter formal then," I say.
"I didn't see a button down when I packed your closet up," he says, shrugging when I look up at him. He looks between us. "Did you two have fun?"
"For sure. I'm taking him shopping with me every time," Ana says, grinning when I turn to look at her. "What can I say? Arguing with you on color choices is pretty amusing."
I snort, shaking my head as I look away from her.
Alex gently tugs on one end of his towel. "Let me go put on a shirt. Ana, you want to hang around for dinner?"
"You have to ask?"
He laughs, nodding. "I should have known. I'll get dressed and throw together some omelets."
"Ooh, yes," Ana says, pumping her fists in the air. She laughs when I look at her. "He literally makes the best omelets ever."
Alex rolls his eyes before he turns and starts down the hall. Kendra ushers us into the dining room, where she pours us two steaming mugs of hot coffee. And as I sit with them, sipping on liquid caffeine and listening to Kendra talk about how her day's been, it hits me how at home I feel.
If everything works out… this is the way it's going to be from now on. Dinner with Kendra and Alex. Telling them about my day. Hearing about theirs. Ana swinging by when she wants to. Dinners with Tatiana and… having people to come home to.
This is gonna be my new normal. And I think I could really get used to it.
My breath is sticking in my throat with every mile we drive. The days passed too quickly. I'm not ready for this anymore. I imagine opening the car door and throwing myself onto the road just to avoid going.
To: Danny
I don't want to go to therapy
Can you call me and make it seem like an emergency?
I keep my gaze out the window, barely able to drink even a sip of the coffee Alex got for me. I think he can tell how nervous I am now. Despite all my bravado and big talk a few days ago, I'm terrified now. Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Why did I ever think I had a right to tell a stranger about the shit I've been through?
From: Danny
Are you serious?
For one thing, Alex would never believe you
And for another
I think you need this
Fuck needing this. Fuck everything about this stupid idea. I was an idiot for ever agreeing to this. What are a few nightmares, really? It's not like I'm considering slitting my own wrists or anything.
To: Danny
If I could throw myself out of the car, I would
I don't want to do this
From: Danny
Okay… no need to do anything drastic
I feel like the air's thinning around me. Like no matter how hard I try to drag in oxygen, it just isn't entering my lungs. I don't know how long I can keep this up. I don't want to disappoint Alex but… I don't think I can go through with this.
To: Danny
I didn't have a nightmare the past two nights. I think it's sorting itself out
From: Danny
That's not really how it works…
Alex comes to a stop at a red light and though he doesn't look at me, I feel his unasked question. The weight of it settles heavily on my shoulders and it makes my breath catch. He wants me to do this. But I can't.
"You're gonna be fine," he softly breaks the silence with – like he can read my mind. He watches the traffic in front of him for a few seconds before he looks at me. "I think I should talk to your therapist first. Sort of give her a rundown of a few things. If… that's okay?"
I don't know what he's planning on telling her. But whatever he says is gonna be way more coherent than I'll be able to pull off.
"Okay." I swallow hard, chewing on my lower lip again. I wish the doors weren't locked. I'd be out of here in a heartbeat.
My phone vibrates in my hand again but I don't look at it. I keep my gaze out the window, my stomach tying itself in knots.
"I'll stay with you for however long you want me to," Alex says, his voice still soft. "If you want me to be in the room for the entire appointment, I can do that. Whatever you need."
What I need is to travel back in time and punch past me in the face. Why did I agree to this? Why the fuck did I agree to this?
The traffic starts moving again and Alex eases the car forward. I keep my death grip on my phone but I finally turn the screen on again.
From: Danny
I can come by after if you want? Just hang out with you… get your mind off everything?
That's the last thing I need. Danny showing up after I've had some kind of mental breakdown about going to a fucking therapy appointment. No – I can get through this on my own. I don't need Alex sitting in the room with me or Danny holding my hand afterward. I'm fine.
To: Danny
Thanks but I've actually got some things with Alex to take care of, so… raincheck?
It's a lie and I think he knows that. But I can't always run to him. I can't always need someone else to fix my own shit for me. One of these days, I'm gonna have to deal with it myself.
We get to the office too fast. And my head is spinning, heart racing, but Alex takes control. He leads me through the front doors and never leaves my side. When the receptionist asks about insurance, Alex answers for me. He takes care of it all. Maybe I can still let him do some things for me.
I'm just there in body, my mind a million miles away. So when Alex takes a clipboard from the receptionist, he has to pull me by the wrist away from the front desk. He leads me over to a set of chairs a few paces down and starts filling out the information.
He answers everything on the clipboard on his own and only pauses once. "Do you know if you have a history of mental illness on either side of your family?"
My parents never talked about any of this kind of stuff. It wasn't brought up. Maybe that's why I'm so fucked up now. Maybe there's always been something wrong with me.
"I don't know." I run my hand down my face, wincing when the bruises twinge under the pressure.
Alex looks up at my noise and tsks softly, gently pushing my hand from my face. "Okay, I'll just put unknown. I'm just going to put panic attacks down for what this session is for, okay? We can explain everything when we go back there."
He can explain. I can't even think straight. I'd rather be anywhere than here. I'd take Dad's fists and Mom's lies over this. I'd take anything over this.
I sit next to him in silence while he finishes filling out the clipboard. I keep my gaze on the ground, one hand fisted around my phone in my pocket. I shouldn't be here. I don't have the fucking right to be here.
"Okay, I'll give this back to them." Alex pats my knee as he stands from the chair and I watch him cross over to the receptionists desk again.
I think I'd promise him anything if he could just get me out of here. If he'd just let me turn around and pretend we'd never stepped foot in here.
He comes over to the chairs again and sits beside me. He doesn't say anything but he puts his hand on my knee again. His touch brings my attention to my legs and I realize I'm shaking again. It's an unconscious thing now. I barely notice it anymore. It's just a part of me now.
We sit in silence for what feels like forever. It's probably ten minutes or so but to my panicked heart and heavy bones, it feels like days pass while we wait. My chest is seizing up and the longer we sit in silence, the worse it gets.
"I'll be back there with you. However long you want, okay?" He touches me on the arm. I think he wants me to look at him. But my stomach is twisted up in knots and I can barely breathe. I don't know what he wants from me. I barely know what I want from me.
"Mr. Baxter?" Someone calls into the waiting room.
I'm not ready for this. Fuck, I don't want to go back there and talk about this shit with someone. I just want to live with Alex and Kendra and have that be enough. Have my friends and the Moreno's and everyone that cares about me be enough. But I guess I'm too selfish for that. I guess I've always been selfish.
Alex stands so I follow him. I'm numb as I walk the short distance between the chairs and where this woman's waiting for me. Her light brown hair is pulled back into a updo, a pair of glasses resting on a chain around her neck. My grandmother on my mom's side used to carry her glasses like that. But this woman doesn't look old.
"Hi, I'm Penelope Spectra," she introduces herself with, shaking Alex's hand first before she turns to me.
I take her hand in mine and it feels like a limp handshake on my part. I wonder if she can tell how much I don't want to be here. If she can see the reluctance written on my face. I wonder if she sees a lot of teenagers. Or how many of them see her because their parents don't give a fuck about them. I wonder if it's just me.
"Come on back, last room on the left," she says, stepping back to let me go ahead.
I don't want to do this. But I grit my teeth and start down the hallway. I hear Alex faintly talking about coming back with me but I don't stop to listen to him. I make it to the room at the end of the hall and I step inside.
A desk is up against one wall, a laptop sitting on top. A few succulents are clustered in one corner of the desk, surrounding a picture of the therapist standing next to a short man with gray hair. She's got one arm slung around him and they're both wearing ugly Christmas sweaters. I wonder if this photo is recent.
Next to the desk stands a tall bookshelf, displaying dozens of board games and card games. I wonder if she actually plays those games or if they're just on the shelf for decoration.
I step further in the room, turning in a slow circle to see everything. A couch sits against the wall across from the desk and next to the couch are a couple of chairs. In the center of the room is a coffee table, a few candles scattered across it.
I feel out of place here. Like a kid playing dress-up in his father's clothes. I don't belong.
The door opens further behind me and I turn toward it. Alex is coming in first, followed by Penelope. She shuts the door after herself and crosses over to the desk.
My legs feel weak so I sit on the couch when Alex does. He's sitting close enough that our thighs touch. I think it's on purpose. So I'll feel him next to me the whole time. I don't know how much it will help. My heart's already beating out of time.
"Okay, so…" Penelope looks between the two of us. "Have you ever been to therapy before?"
Alex speaks before I can find even a shred of strength to open my mouth. "I have. I went for about a year but this is… new for him." He looks toward me as he says it but he keeps talking to her. "I'm just back here for now. To help with any questions you have about his history."
She leans back in her chair and slides a clipboard from her desk. "Okay. Why don't you start by telling me some of his history? I'll ask questions if I need to."
Alex hesitates for a long time. Long enough for the silence to pick at me. To demand something from me. I don't think I mean to speak. But the words spill from me and I can't take them back.
"My dad's a dick. My mom ran off."
It's far too biting and cold to come from me. But I don't think I care anymore. I don't think I have the energy to care.
I sigh loudly in the quiet that's settled in the room. I don't know why we're doing this. What does it matter if things suck for me right now? I'll pull through. I always have before. Why is this time any different?
"His father's… violent," Alex says softly. "Abusive. Has been since he was a kid."
He's quiet on the words – like he's afraid I'll tell him to stop talking. I don't care what he says. If I'm supposed to stick this therapy thing out then she'll hear about it eventually. Better it comes from someone whose voice won't break on the words.
"I see. And your mom's gone?" Penelope asks.
Even after all this time, hearing that question still sends my heart racing. Still reminds me of the truth. She's gone. And she's never coming back.
"Yeah. She's been gone about a year." I shift on the couch, wishing I had coffee with me to drain. If I had something else to focus on maybe these questions wouldn't rattle me so much.
Penelope looks between us before settling her gaze on me. "Have you seen her at all since she left?"
I snort, the sound rough and low in my throat. In a way, I wish the answer was no. I wish she'd never called me on the phone in the principal's office. I wish she'd never showed up after my football game. I wish I'd never driven her to Ohio and I think a little part of me wishes she'd never had me in the first fucking place.
She should have gone through with the abortion. Then I wouldn't be sitting here mustering my way through this bullshit.
"Yeah. I've seen her a few times."
It sounds bitter and maybe I am. I don't know if I deserve to be but for fuck's sake – I am bitter about this. Why'd she let me take her all the way to Ohio if she was just gonna throw it in my face? If she was just gonna spit harsh words, telling me I'm not good enough?
"I'm guessing from your tone these haven't been happy visits," she says, trying to make light of a really shitty situation. Seeing her has been far from happy. And I don't feel like making jokes about it.
I shrug, tearing my gaze away from her. I don't care about mom. I'm not here to talk about her. If I had it my way, I wouldn't be here to talk about anything. I'd get back in Alex's car and get the hell out of here if I had a choice. But I don't.
"Does your father know that you still see her?"
I sigh and feel the need to clear up the confusion. "I don't see her anymore. I'm done with her shit."
Penelope nods. "Why are you done with her?"
"Is everything you say phrased in a question?" I snap, hating the bite in my tone.
Alex calls my name softly but it's not like I can take it back. I'm sure it's written on my face anyway. I don't want to be here. That much is pretty fucking obvious.
"No, I don't have to," she answers, giving me a smile when I look up at her. "If I can ask one more… is it alright if I talk to you alone for a bit? Or would you rather Alex stay?"
He looks at me – waiting for me to choose. I don't care. It's the same either way.
"Go. I'll be fine," I say.
He hesitates next to me. I think he's scared if he leaves me, I might try to run again. The thought's definitely crossed my mind but what the fuck would that accomplish? Alex'd eventually track me down again and I'd end up back here anyway.
"Okay… I'll be out in the waiting room if you need me." He touches me on the shoulder like I need the comfort. I don't know what I need anymore.
He gets up from the couch and still seems hesitant on leaving me. So I force myself to look up at him and nod, silently telling him to go. But when he does, the anxiety creeps in before he's even closed the door behind him.
We're both quiet after he's left. I imagine bolting out of here and never looking back. But I don't want Alex knowing that this is fucking with me. That I'm not strong enough for it.
"Do you play chess?" she finally breaks the silence with.
What?
I look away from the door, trying to figure out where she's going with this. "Uh… I guess?"
She stands from her chair, crossing over to the bookshelf. "I enjoy chess myself but I know everyone's different." She shifts one of the games out of the way to look at the others. "Hmm… what if we try… Clue?"
I don't know why she wants to play a game – I've done enough of that my whole life. But she's looking at me now, waiting on my answer. Clue's as good as any other game.
"Sure."
Penelope slides the game from the shelf and crosses over to me again. She sets the box down on the coffee table between us. "Mind opening that for me?"
I scoot forward on the couch and take the lid of the box off. I don't know why she's doing this. But when she tells me to take the pieces out, I do. I lay the board out flat on the table and line the playing pieces up on one side of it.
Penelope watches me set everything out and when I'm finished, she picks up the suspect cards.
"I'll shuffle, you pick one and put it in the envelope. Sound good?"
I take a card when she holds them out to me. "Why are we doing this?"
She shrugs, picking up the weapon cards. "I find it easier to break the tension during the first appointment." She holds the cards out to me, waiting until I take one before she continues. "You don't know me. Why on earth would you be comfortable telling me your whole life story in one afternoon?"
Her words send a jolt through me. I didn't expect this. On the drive here, I was picturing a stuffy, clinical person for a therapist. Someone cold. Like in the movies.
I slide the second card into the envelope and reach for the third. "So… we're just gonna play a game? You're not gonna ask me any questions?"
Penelope shrugs again, shuffling the cards thoroughly. "Maybe. We'll see how it goes, hm?"
I don't get it. I've been preparing for an uncomfortable hour-long session. Not… this. I don't know what she thinks she'll get out of me over a board game but hell – I'd take this weirdness over laying all my shit at a stranger's feet. This, I can handle.
I beat her in the first game. I can't tell if she let me win but I like playing the game.
"Do you play this a lot?" Penelope asks as we're setting up the second one.
I shrug, holding out the cards for her to choose this time. "Sort of. I used to a lot as a kid with my friends. Not so much anymore."
She takes one of the cards and slides it into the envelope. "What games do you like playing?"
"Nothing, really." I shuffle the next deck. "I have an X-Box but I don't really play with it much anymore."
Penelope nods, taking another card from me. She waits until I've shuffled the third pile of cards before she speaks again. "Alex told me that you're moving in with him – that you two are looking for a new place."
"When did he tell you that?" I ask, holding the deck out toward her.
"He mentioned it to the receptionist when he was setting up the appointment. She passed it along to me, along with the notes." She takes the last card from me. "So… you're moving?"
"Yeah, I am." I fidget with the cards in my hands, glancing from the board up to her. "Alex's apartment is nice, but he and his girlfriend think it's too small for three people. So… we're looking."
She slides the last card into the envelope with the others. "Do you like his girlfriend?"
"Kendra? Yeah, she's great." I shuffle all the cards together and start dealing them out between us.
Penelope stays quiet while I deal and something about the silence picks at me. I feel like she's watching me but when I look up at her, she's got her gaze trained on the door.
"Let me ask you something," she starts and I brace myself for it. These past few questions she's asked haven't been horrible but… I think she's been building them up.
I pick my cards up with shaky handy. I look through them but I'm not really seeing what's on them. My mind's a million miles away again.
"If you could live anywhere and with anyone in your current life, would you still choose to move in with Alex and his girlfriend?"
She's watching me when I look up and I try to read between the lines. I don't know what she's really asking me. Is she trying to trick me into admitting something that I don't want to?
I drop my cards onto the board. "What do you mean?"
Penelope looks away from me, her gaze flitting about the room. "I mean… if you could stay with either of your parents, or anyone else in your life – would you choose to? Or are you happy with your current situation?"
What the hell kind of question is that? Who would choose to leave their parents if they didn't have to? Fuck, do I even have to? Dad's gonna be out of the hospital soon. What if we really can fix things this time? What if I'm giving up too soon?
"I'm… fine with this."
She looks at me again. I pick at the skin on the side of my thumb with my fingernails and her gaze drops to it. "Do you do that a lot?"
I stop picking and swallow hard. "I don't know. I've never really paid attention."
"Hmm." She nods toward the board. "It's your turn first."
Just like that, she stops with the questions and effortlessly turns back to the game. She picks her cards up and thumbs through them. My hands are still shaky but I pick my cards up anyway. I don't know why she's doing it this way. I think I'd rather her get all of her questions out at once.
It takes me three turns to scrape together even a bit of calm. She keeps the game moving between us and I don't think she realizes it but she gives the weapon away.
"How'd you meet Alex?" Penelope asks when I'm mid-way through my turn.
My hand freezes halfway across the board. For a second, I can't breathe. But I drag oxygen in and force it down my lungs. "I work with him." I move the rest of the way across the board. "I'm gonna guess it's Scarlet with the pipe in the library. Got anything to disprove?"
She makes a soft noise in the back of her throat before dropping the Scarlet card down. "Not her I'm afraid."
"Damn it." I scratch her name off my list and nudge the dice toward Penelope. "It's your turn."
She picks the dice up but doesn't roll them. "How long have you worked with Alex?"
"I don't know. I was almost 15 when I started working. So like… three years?" I jot down a guess for the game at the bottom of my page. "I really thought it was Scarlet."
Penelope laughs and throws the dice down. She doesn't make it into a room so she nudges the dice back toward me. "About how long ago did you tell him about your home life?"
God, what a loaded question. He knew – before he ever asked that day Dad didn't pay the power bill. Alex knew the day he hired me on. But he didn't tell me. I don't know what she wants me to say but I think she'll see if I'm lying.
"I didn't tell him," I mumble, dropping my gaze when she looks up at me. "He kind of… figured it out, I guess."
She falls silent so I roll the dice. I move my marker to the bedroom but I don't make a guess. I can tell she's working through another question in her mind. I know she's gonna ask me something soon. But I have to tell her something first.
"Alex… is a good person. If there was anything he could have done, he would have." My voice is small and fragile on the few words but at least I speak.
"You mean like calling the police for you?"
I look up at her. She's not exactly frowning but I can tell she doesn't think Alex has done enough. He has. He's always done more than enough for me. It's not his fault that this is the way things have worked out. I haven't always made it easy for him.
It hurts just to say but I make it clear this time. "My dad's the chief of police. Howard Baxter? Trust me, there was nothing Alex could have done."
Penelope lets out a breath. "He could have called child services. The police aren't the only ones who can help in these situations."
Why is she focusing on Alex? Does it really matter how I got out of my dad's place? I'm out now. I'm fine. Or… I guess, I will be.
"Alex did what he could," I argue, feeling the white flush of anger in my gut. "If there was something he knew of that would have helped me, he would have tried."
Penelope nods slowly and drops her gaze back to the board. "Are you going to make a guess?"
God, she's infuriating. How can she go from talking shit about Alex to this stupid game again? Why is she doing this?
"Green with the pipe?" I guess.
She picks up her cards, shuffling through them. She drops the pipe card on the table for me. "Things aren't always what they seem," she says, winking when I look up at her. "Remember that or I'll win."
I don't know why she's doing this. Why did she choose to do a therapy session this way? And how the fuck is it not the pipe?
"I can tell that Alex cares a lot about you," Penelope continues, like she never paused in the first place. "But I think that he wanted to be the one to save you. Instead of calling someone for help, he chose to do it all himself."
I roughly exhale. "So? What's so wrong with that?"
She watches me in silence and I hate it. I can practically feel the air crackling between the two of us. It's equal parts her curiosity and my anger. We're up against each other and it's setting off sparks. We're bound to set the office on fire if one of us doesn't give in. But I've spent the majority of my life giving in and I can't do it this time. Alex is the best thing that happened to me. So what if he wanted to be the one to pull me out of this shit? What the fuck does it matter?
"Nothing's wrong with it. I was only making an observation," Penelope says, pausing for a split-second before she continues. "And speaking of… you seem to be very protective of him."
Alex is like my fucking rock. How could I not be protective of him?
"He's a good person, I don't want someone talking shit about him." I work to keep the sharp edge out of my voice but I think it leaks out a little.
She nods, picking up the dice. "I understand." She rolls the dice between her hands for a second before giving them a shake. "Maybe I'll get to the garage this time…"
I watch her move across the board before I ask. "Why are we doing this instead of a regular therapy session? You know, question after question. That type of shit."
Penelope makes it to the garage before she looks up at me. "Would you rather I ask question after question? I figured you'd prefer it if I eased you into this."
I don't know what I would prefer. It sucks either way.
She waits for my answer for a minute or two before she's back to the game. "Peacock with the wrench?"
Fuck, I can't disprove her. I push the envelope toward her but she doesn't pick it up. She watches me in silence and I can't find the words I need to say. It's all jumbled inside my head.
"I'm guessing it was Alex's idea to have you talk to someone, huh?" she asks.
I shrug but she knows the answer anyway. Why would I choose this? It's weird. I barely know her. And all we've done is play a stupid game and she's asked me a few questions. How is that supposed to help?
"Well… what do you want to get from this? From talking to someone?"
"I don't know," I admit, looking up at her with a shrug. "Alex said it might help. I guess… I guess I just want the nightmares to stop."
She nods. "Can you tell me what the nightmares are about? Is it different every night or always the same one?"
"I… I don't remember them most of the time," I say. "I sort of remember them when I wake up but not… really. I forget after a while."
Penelope leans forward, swiping the envelope from the Clue board. "Are they waking you up?"
I nod, dropping my gaze to the board. "Yeah. And it's always… i-it's the middle of the night. They don't usually wake me in the morning," I say, my voice losing strength as I talk. "And it's weird. I'm always… it's like I can't stop panicking when I wake up."
She turns the envelope over in her hand. "Did you sleepwalk as a child?"
"Uhh… I don't think so. My parents never mentioned it so… I doubt it."
She makes a soft noise. "When did they start?"
I shrug, dropping my gaze to the board. "A couple of weeks. Since before Christmas."
"About how often do you have these nightmares?" she asks.
I let out a breath slowly. "Mostly every night. I think it's missed like… two, maybe three nights."
Penelope nods. "Okay and – you remember having the nightmare when you wake up, yes? Not what the nightmare was about but you can recall having it?"
"Yeah," I say. My voice is small on the one word. I don't think I can forget these nightmares as long as I live. It's like they've sewn themselves to my skin and I can never get rid of them.
She nods again. "So… I'm not saying this for definite. But my guess is – you've had so much shifting around and changing lately that you're not on a set schedule anymore, right?" She waits for my nod before she continues. "I've seen cases where clients have experienced these type of nightmares when their schedule is unpredictable or otherwise chaotic. And with you leaving your home, being out of school, helping to house hunt… it could all contribute to these nightmares."
That doesn't make any sense. I've had my life up in the air before and this has never happened. And I've had nightmares before but they've always gone away. And they've never been this bad.
I let out a breath, mentally steeling myself just to speak. "Is there anything else it could be?"
"Oh yes. There are a few other possibilities we can definitely look into. I'm just saying right now, we'll try to get you on a schedule and see if that makes a difference." She glances at the door again. "When do you start school back?"
"Next week."
She nods. "Okay. We'll see if keeping you on a schedule will help set it right again. Do you know if it happens at the same time every night?"
"No, I don't know." I pause but keep going before she can say anything. "What if the schedule doesn't work? How… long do I have to try it?"
She shrugs. "It usually takes a few weeks to really tell if anything's changed. But if you try for a week and it's not working for you, we can figure out what else to try." She smiles then. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on leaving you to figure it on your own. There are other things we can try."
I don't think I mean to let out a sigh of relief but she laughs softly when I do. "Nervous about that, huh?"
"A little," I admit, feeling the heat rush to my face.
She pauses for a second. "Okay, so aside from the nightmares… is there something else you hope to gain from therapy?"
I don't really know. I want to go back to the way things were. Not exactly the way things were before. Different. Better. I want to move in with Alex and Kendra and not have it rattle me the way it's threatened to do already. I want to stop thinking about Dad in a hospital bed somewhere. Or Mom in Ohio with a brother I'll never know. I don't want all this shit to fuck with me anymore. And I think more than anything, I just want-
"I want to be happy."
It's almost shameful the way it spills from me. Like I've never been happy before. Like maybe the people around me or the things I have has never been enough. It's more than enough. I think something just went wrong in my brain. Maybe it's always been a part of me. But I don't remember ever being this fucking sad all the time. Maybe Alex was right. Maybe something in me broke.
Penelope makes a soft noise. "I see. What do you think is keeping you unhappy?"
Fuck me, where do I start? Maybe it's Dad's hands – always bruising. Mom leaving without a second thought. The lies and bullshit I've had to put up with all my life. Desperately wanting some solid fucking ground again. There's nothing I can pick out specifically. I'm just sad. I'm always so fucking sad.
"It's kind of… everything, I guess?" I say, chancing a look back up at her. She nods so I keep going. "I don't know, it's like… when things are good lately, I can be happy in the moment. But when that moment's gone, this… crushing sadness and heaviness sweeps in and just sits on my chest."
"What does your sadness feel like?"
The fuck is with twenty questions again? I don't know what it feels like. It feels like everything and nothing slamming into me all at once. Like I'll never be happy again. Like maybe I've never been happy before and all this time, I've just been kidding myself.
"It's sort of… all-consuming," I barely whisper the words. "It's like it sucks joy out of everything I once liked."
Penelope nods. "I understand. We can work through this sadness together."
She's looking down at her watch when I glance up. "But we are nearing the hour mark so… I don't want to get you emotional before I send you off. So-" She pauses there, looking up at me with a smile. "Tell me some things that make you happy. Things your sadness can't touch."
Some days it feels like the sadness coursing through my veins touches every part of my life. But certain pockets of my life – certain people – could never be touched by it. Their light could never dim no matter how much my darkness threatens to smother them.
"Alex makes me happy," I say, a smile pulling at my mouth when I think of all those days over Christmas I spent with the Moreno's. "His family is great too."
Penelope's smiling too. "Good, good. What else?"
"Well, football for one. I play quarterback for the Casper High Ravens," I say.
"That sounds like fun. I was never that into organized sports in high school, but I hear a lot of people enjoy it," she says, nodding. "Anything else you can think of?"
"Working on cars makes me happy. Definitely happy. I love my job at Alex's garage, it's… the best," I continue, grinning as I talk about it. "Literally a few hours spent under a hood makes me feel so much better."
I could stop there – I've given her a few things and I'm sure it's enough for now. But I feel the pull to say more. To talk about the brightest part of my whole day. The person who can always make me happy or at least distract me long enough to forget I was even sad.
"And my boyfriend. He… really makes me happy," I say it like a confession but I work hard to keep the hesitation and the tremor out of my voice. Danny's not a shameful thing. No matter how wildly my heart beats out of time when I think of people knowing about us… I could never be ashamed of him. Most days, he's the best part of it. How could I ever feel guilty about that?
She's still smiling when I force myself to look up. "Good, good. Does he know what you're going through?"
"Yeah, he does. He's been… really great about it. I don't know how I would have gotten through some of these days without him."
"Good." She turns the Clue envelope over in her hand again. "You been together with him for a while then?"
I lift one shoulder. "Not… really. We were friends first."
"Ahh, that's good. He cares about you then?" she asks.
I swallow hard past the lump in my throat. Danny has always cared. Even when I thought he didn't – or when I didn't feel worthy of it. He's always cared about me.
"So much."
Penelope smiles widely then. "Good, good. I'm glad to hear that." She looks down at the envelope then, sliding the three cards out of it. "Huh, I suppose my guess was correct then."
It takes me a second to realize she's talking about the cards. But when she lays them face up, I see it too. Her guess was correct. I don't think I care that she won this game. Cause in some, small way – I feel like I've won too.
Penelope walks me out to the waiting room. Alex is sitting in a chair by the door but he looks up when he hears us.
"So, next week, yes?" she asks, patting me on the shoulder when I nod. "Okay, I'll have you put on the schedule. Have a good first week back at school, I want to hear all about it next session."
For some reason, that makes me laugh. In a way, I can picture Alex saying the same thing. If I wasn't moving in with him, I could see him asking me during my next shift at the garage about how things are going at school. But I'll get to see him every day now.
"Yeah, I'll tell you," I respond, feeling a smile tug at my expression when she smiles. "See you next week then."
She gives a small wave goodbye and when Alex pushes opens the front door for me, I leave. Alex follows me out and shivers race through me as we walk to his car. It's colder out now, despite the sun beginning to melt the snow piled in the parking lot.
"So… it went okay?" Alex asks when we come to a stop at his car. His voice is soft on the question and he pulls his keys from his pocket in the silence.
I nod, waiting while he unlocks the car before I open the passenger door. "Yeah, it was good."
He gets in after me and as soon as he's got the engine on, he cranks up the heat. My hands are like ice and I hold them up to the heater to warm them.
"She seemed nice," he continues, buckling his seatbelt before he looks at me. "Was it okay after I left? It wasn't too hard or anything?"
I shrug and buckle my own seat-belt. "I was fine." I let out a breath before I look up at him again, trying for a little honesty. "Thanks for coming with me. I don't… know if I could have done this without you."
He leans across the space between us and squeezes my shoulder. "Always, Dash."
There's such a promise to his words. I know I can believe him. He's always been here for me and I don't think anything will ever pull him away now. I don't know if I ever did something to deserve him or if he's helping me because he feels some kind of obligation. I don't know that it matters either way. He's here now and I won't ever let him go.
A/N:
Yoooooo – it's been a hot MINUTE hasn't it?
I'm back from the dead – here with a fresh update for you all. I feel like I have so much to say and at the same time legit nothing to say? So if the following author's note is sort of disjointed that's why lol
First and foremost, a huge thank you for sticking with this story. I didn't mean to let it sit for so long but with work and nano and life stuff, time just slipped away from me. Fingers crossed that I can get the next chapter edited quicker. Aiming for a January update for chapter 80!
Holy shit guys… I can't believe we're actually at 80 chapters. When did that happen!? (I ask, knowing full well that I, as the author, am responsible for how many chapters get written)
SO… jumping into this chapter. Obviously the big thing I want everyone's opinion on is ya boy's first therapy sesh. BUT before getting into that, I gotta know your thoughts on that night spent with Dale, and clothes shopping with Ana, and yA BOY STANDING UP FOR HIMSELF, HUH?
Thoughts, people… I need your thoughts!
ALSO cause I know some of you will ask, Penelope's not a ghost. I just took her name cause let's face it, how could I have a therapist and NOT make it Spectra? It's like criminal in a danny phantom fic lol
So yes. Any and all opinions about the therapy session would be much appreciated. Actually, all thoughts – I love reading what you guys are thinking about this fic
And speaking of opinions, I have a quick question for you all. I've had people ask me how I write/edit these chapters, so I've been considering showing a kind of tutorial, I guess? I'm not entirely sure how I'd do that, but I'm assuming some level of screenshots would accompany this.
Obviously, I'd have to wait until next update is live to post the edits of it cause spoilers, but if that's something you're interested in, let me know. I don't mind letting you know how I edit this fic – half the magic happens there lol
But anyway! Back to this chapter. The title comes from Therapy by All Time Low. It's not a direct lyric – it wouldn't fit on fanfiction that way, so I altered it a little. The full lyric is, "A handful of moments, I wished I could change"… not that all different but I had to mention it lol
I've loved this song since I first I heard it like 8 years ago or something and I think I considered using it for a previous chapter but I didn't end up doing so. But recently, All Time Low released their 10 years later album – basically re-recording all the songs on the album that Therapy was originally included on and ugh. I'm emotional about it. The re-recording of therapy is like present day you looking back at the shit that past you went through. I don't know how else to describe it but it's epic
But anyway, moving on from that genius song. The next update of this fic will FINALLY see the boys back at school. I'm nearly dead – I feel like these shits have been on winter break FOREVER lol. Other than school, it'll have cameos from characters that haven't been included in these past couple of chapters, as well as a few new-ish faces and as always, a heaping dose of angst and drama lol – it's me, what do you expect?
And that's it, really… can't believe it's taken me this long to update, but there you are. Life happens to us all. Like I said earlier, I'm aiming for a January update next time, but we'll see if I get there. Fingers crossed!
Thanks again for all the love you've given this story on past updates. It really means the world to me. And I mean it when I say that I look back on reviews and comments when I'm struggling with this story. You really help me push through when writer's block hits hard. I literally say it every update but thank you!
I'll see you all next update! (there's a "see you next year" joke in here somewhere… but I'm not saying nothing lmao)
