Warning: Mentions of abuse, hospitals, and general teenage stupidity


I toss and turn all night. My mind's too wired to sleep. I guess it's a good thing I decided not to stay in Alex and Kendra's room tonight – I'd hate to keep them awake because of my shit sleep pattern. I decided not to stay in their room cause I didn't want to risk another nightmare that puts Alex even more on the path of sending me to a doctor. So, I'm sleeping on the couch instead. Or rather, not sleeping.

It's half-past seven before I finally call it quits on sleep. I can hear the shower water running. I don't know if it's Alex or Kendra in there but either way – I don't have much time.

To: Chuck

What time are you going to the hospital today?

I don't know that he'll give me a ride – especially if Alex has already talked to him. I can always call a taxi. I just… think it might be easier if someone I know gives me a ride. And I don't think I can ask Danny to do this for me.

I get up from the couch and pull a hoodie on. I wander into the kitchen to put coffee on and set my phone down on the counter.

I'm halfway through putting the grounds in the filter when my phone vibrates.

From: Chuck

I don't think you should come

Fuck what he thinks. I'll go if I want to.

To: Chuck

I'm going either way. I just want to know what time you're going to be there so I'm not there alone

I add the remaining grounds to the coffee pot and put it on to brew. Chuck hasn't responded in a couple of minutes, so I decide to offer up a bit of honesty.

To: Chuck

I don't think I'm ready to be alone with him yet

I'm not even sure I'll ever be ready to be alone with him again. I think it's supposed to get better with time. At least… I assume it's supposed to. But things have never been so shit between us for so long before. I don't really know where to go from here.

From: Chuck

Does Alex know you're trying to go?

It doesn't matter if he does or doesn't. Either way, I'm going.

To: Chuck

It doesn't matter

I'm either going to the hospital or I'll see him at the house tonight

I'd rather go to the hospital

And I'd really rather not be alone when I do

I'm starting to sound desperate now but I'm not sure that I care. Even if Chuck won't tell me – even if I have to show up at the hospital alone, I'll do it. Cause this isn't about me. It's about dad and how he needs his family around him. I'm all he's got left.

The coffee pot beeps to signal it's finished brewing, and I take a mug out of the cabinet beside it. I just barely set it down on the counter when my phone vibrates.

From: Chuck

I'm going around 3. If Alex asks anything about this, you didn't hear it from me, okay?

"Hey, morning."

Alex's voice in the silence of the kitchen startles me and I nearly drop the mug off the counter.

"Jesus." I rake my hand through my hair with enough pressure to feel my nails against my scalp. Alex's eyebrows are raised when I look toward him and I hope it's from my reaction – not from seeing my phone.

I click my phone screen off and turn back to the coffee pot. "Sorry… morning."

"You don't have to apologize," Alex says.

I shrug and lift the coffee pot from the burner. Alex stays beside me as I pour myself a cup of caffeine. It's only when I step back to get cream from the fridge that he moves.

"So, Kendra's working today and I have to go to the garage for a few hours." His back is to me when I look toward him. He pulls out a packet of microwave oatmeal from the pantry before glancing over his shoulder at me. "We've got a problem customer coming in today… you know how well Anastasia deals with those."

He grins with the words and it reminds me of the summer – when Anastasia lost it and screamed at a problem customer. It cost Alex a free oil change but I don't think any of us have laughed that hard before.

"Anyway, since I won't be there all day, why don't you come with me?" he suggests, opening one of the cabinets to get out a bowl. "When I'm done, we can go get some lunch. Maybe do a little furniture shopping afterward?"

I stir my coffee again, listening to the clinking of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug. It's loud in the silence of the kitchen. "What furniture?"

"For your room," Alex says, continuing when I stay silent. "You know cause you… you didn't take a lot from your place."

I shrug, taking the spoon from my mug and setting it in the sink. I lean my weight against the counter and turn to look at him as I sip from my mug. "I actually have plans already. So… raincheck?"

"Yeah, of course. What are you doing today?" he asks, ripping open the oatmeal packet.

I watch as he pours the packet into the bowl before adding water. I think he already knows the truth. But it doesn't stop the lie from tumbling out of my mouth.

"Going to see a movie with a friend. Some new superhero movie's out right now and he wants to see it."

Alex turns to give me a look and I can tell he doesn't believe me. "Which friend is this?"

"Blake."

I don't know why his name popped into my head but it works. If I said Danny or Kwan, Alex would probably call either one of them to see if I'm lying.

"How come you didn't mention this before?" he asks, raising an eyebrow when I shrug. "So… you're just… randomly going out to the movies? This weekend?"

"Is that so surprising?"

He gives me a deadpan stare for maybe a minute. I wait him out – I know he'll be the one to say it first.

"You can cut the crap. I know you're trying to go to the hospital."

There's an edge to his voice when he says "trying." Like he's already planning on doing something to stop me. I don't care what he throws my way. Once he's left for work, he can't stop me.

I shift my gaze away from him, shrugging again. "So?"

"I can't let you do that," Alex says, his voice so solemn on the few words, it makes me laugh. It's nothing more than a quiet chuckle but he still hears it. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just… you're not letting me do anything. I'll go if I want to."

He sets his jaw, letting out a breath through his nose. "How are you getting there?"

"Probably an Uber or something." I set my mug down on the counter.

"No." He shakes his head. "I'm sorry but no. All this time, you've been talking about getting away from him and putting distance between you two. I mean… you've moved out for Christ's sake. And what… you're going to see him because he's being discharged from the hospital?"

I let out a breath, my gaze drifting around the kitchen. "You don't get it." I try to step past him but he grabs my arm.

"What don't I get?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at my silence. "Seriously, explain it to me."

I sigh, weakly pulling against his hold. "I don't know. He's my dad."

"He hurt you. Fuck it, he broke you."

"Alex-"

"No," he cuts me off. "If you're doing this, you can't sugarcoat it. He broke you, Dash. Why the hell would you go see him again?"

I pull away from him now, something close to fire in my chest. "Because he's my dad. And I know that means shit to you but it means something to me."

Alex watches me, his eyes shifting back and forth as he takes in my expression. He doesn't know what to say – how to make me see it the way he wants me to.

"And anyway… it doesn't matter what you think. It's not your choice," I say, letting out a heavy breath. "You can't stop me."

He holds my stare. There's something intense in his – like my words have ignited something deep inside him. He searches my expression, his eyes narrowing a little.

"Like hell I can't."

He pulls his phone from his back pocket and taps a few things on it before he presses it to his ear.

"What are you doing?" I ask, but he just shakes his head.

He waits until the ringing has stopped before he speaks. "Ana, I'm coming in late today. Tell Mr. Nakano that I'll give him a discount for making him wait." He looks away from me then, rattling something off in Spanish that I mostly don't understand. But I catch the last part. "El esta loco."

I don't have the best grasp of Spanish. But I can understand that. And I'm not fucking crazy.

He calls my name when I leave the kitchen but it's not like I can go anywhere. I wouldn't make it more than a few yards out of the apartment before he'd catch up to me.

I collapse on the couch instead, this nervous energy racing through me. I shouldn't have to justify going to see my own father. And I really shouldn't have to fight just to go.

Alex stays in the kitchen, talking softly into his phone. I don't know what he's saying – he keeps his voice low. I don't know if I have a snowball's chance in hell of leaving now. So I turn the television on and keep the volume loud enough to drown out Alex's conversation.

I hear Kendra's high heels on the floor as she comes down the hallway. I turn the volume on the TV up when she goes into the kitchen. I don't want to hear what either of them have to say about this.

Kendra's in the kitchen for a long time – longer than it takes for this sitcom rerun to play out. But I hear when she leaves the kitchen. And when she hovers in the hallway. I can feel her gaze on me but I sink down further on the couch and pretend I don't notice her.

She leaves after a few minutes. I listen to the sound of her key turning in the lock before I shift my attention back to the TV.

I channel flip for a while but the batteries in the remote are giving out so I give up. I'm halfway through some stupid cartoon when someone knocks on the door. I turn the volume down a couple of notches and sink further into the couch cushions.

This is all such bullshit. If I want to see my dad, I should be able to. Not trapped here watching one stupid TV show after another just because Alex doesn't think it's a good idea for me to go.

"Dash?" Alex calls my name, stepping into the living room.

I don't want to talk to him or even look his way. But I'm not a fucking child.

"Someone's here for you," he says, nodding once before he takes a step to the side.

Danny's standing just behind him, a gentle smile on his face. "Hey you."

Oh god. I'm still in my pajamas - Danny really shouldn't be seeing me like this. But fuck, I'm glad he's here.

"Hey," I greet, tucking the blanket closer around me to clear a couch cushion. "You want to sit?"

He nods, grinning as he crosses over to me. He kicks his shoes off before he sinks down on the cushion next to me. He steals some of the blanket for himself, bumping my shoulder with his.

"What made you stop by?"

One glance at him gives me my answer. I look over my shoulder, but Alex isn't there anymore.

"Alex called you?"

He shrugs. "I wanted to see you anyway. I figure it worked out for the best."

"He won't let me go," I say, feeling like a complaining child with the words. "I can't get him to understand."

Danny nods like he gets it – but I don't think he does either. My dad's the last piece of my family. Even if it won't last, I have to go see him. I owe it to him to give him one more chance. He was fucking shot – what kind of a son am I if I don't let him try again?

"Alright. I gotta get the garage before Anastasia has an aneurysm," Alex jokes, coming back into the living room. He swings his keys around his finger twice before he looks to Danny. "You got it from here?"

Danny turns to look at him. "Yup. No worries, I can hang out for a while. My parents aren't expecting me home for hours."

Alex nods, looking past him to see me. "Don't forget, we're going to my mom's house for dinner tonight. Okay?"

I can only give him a nod in response. And though he sighs, he doesn't say anything more before he leaves.

"He's only trying to protect you," Danny says softly when the front door closes behind Alex.

"I don't care. I don't need a babysitter."

He sighs. "No one said you did." He shifts on the cushion next to me, drawing his knees up to his chest. "I don't want to argue but… I am curious. Why do you need to do this so badly?"

I don't think simply saying that he's my dad is the answer Danny's looking for. And that's not entirely it for me either. It's not just about my dad – it's about me. I don't want to look back years later and regret not doing this.

"I just… I don't want to have any regrets," I say, my voice soft. "I don't want to look back sometime in the future and wonder what if."

Danny nods slowly, his gaze fixed on the blanket. He picks at a loose thread on one end, chewing on his lip in the silence. I still don't think he understands. And I don't know if he ever will. Maybe I don't need him to yet. Maybe just sitting next to me is enough for now.

I close some of the distance between us and he leans against my chest, letting out a breath as he snuggles closer to me. I turn the volume up on the television and we watch cheesy cartoons together. It's not how I wanted this day to go but… snuggling on the couch with my boyfriend isn't a bad way to spend a Saturday.


We stay like that for a couple of hours. Just sitting next to each other, stealing a kiss or two as the time passes slowly. It's almost two when Danny pushes away from me, letting out a quiet breath.

"You want to go get some food?" he asks, stretching his arms over his head with a fucking adorable yawn. "I'm thinking… burgers and fries. I've been craving something greasy all week."

I sink down further in the couch cushions, shrugging one shoulder. "We've got food here."

Danny juts his lower lip as he turns to look at me. "But I want a buuuurger!"

His fake whine makes me smile. And even though the last thing I want to do is go out, I don't think I can resist him.

"Okay, fine. Just… let me get dressed first," I say, pulling the blanket off me.

He grins. "Whaaat? You don't want to go out in this?" He tugs on the sleeve of my snowflake pajamas and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, sure. It's all the rage right now," I respond, sticking my tongue out at him when he laughs. "Just gimme a sec."

I get up from the couch and shuffle over to the half-chair, half-closet and dig through my pile of clothes. Kendra did a load of laundry for me yesterday, so I've got more options in the rotation.

It takes me longer than it should to pick an outfit. But knowing how much Danny likes the way blue looks on me fucks with my decision more than it should. I end up finding a pair of dark wash jeans and a long-sleeved pastel blue shirt with a pocket on the front. I don't remember where I got this shirt but I like it. And I think Danny will too.

"Be right back," I say, sparing Danny a glance before I leave the living room. He nods, his gaze on his phone when I go.

I step into Alex's bedroom and dress quickly, giving myself a once over in the bathroom mirror. My hair's a lost cause but I still push my fingers through it like I have any hope at all. Damn these curls – I've got to take care of them soon.

The bruising is almost completely gone from my face. It's just a few lingering yellow and green patches – mixed with a few healing scabs across my nose and cheekbones. Damn… it's been a month and his marks are just now disappearing. Am I an idiot for even thinking of going to see him?

Danny's still on the couch when I come back into the living room, my mind miles from this moment. But he looks up from his phone at the sound of my footsteps and gives me a grin, bringing me back to the present.

"Well hello you," he greets, a slight tinge of pink coloring his cheeks. "Fancy meeting you here, huh?"

I feel the heat on my own face now. I try to brush it off with a roll of my eyes. "Shut up. Just take me to get something greasy like you promised."

Danny stands from the couch and grins as he gives me a salute. "Aye, aye, captain!"


He takes us to a fast-food place across town. We go through the drive-through and eat in his car in the parking lot, despite the empty tables outside – just a few feet from his car. It's too cold to sit outside to eat. And… I'm not up for going inside with other people.

"You want to go hang out in the library? Like a couple of nerds?" he suggests, turning to me with a grin. "Or we could go back to your place and I could kick your ass in Mario Kart."

I swallow a sip of Dr. Pepper, shrugging. "I don't have that game anymore."

He looks at me like I've betrayed him. "Whaaaat?" He shakes his head, sipping from his own soda. "Fine, I guess we'll have to play at my house."

"I don't… really feel like playing," I say, and though it's honest, I can't look at him as the words slip from me.

Danny lets out a quiet breath, setting his soda down in the cup holder. "Okay. How about just a drive then?"

I shrug again and he stays silent. I don't really care if he takes me home or not. I think I'd rather spend all day with him instead. Better with him than alone in the apartment.

I don't know when Alex or Kendra are supposed to be home but I have a feeling Alex'll want to talk. And I know I'm not gonna have the words he wants to hear. I'd rather avoid that conversation for as long as possible.

"Yeah, sure… let's drive."


Danny takes me on a long drive. We pass Casper High and the outlook and he just keeps driving. For a few minutes there, I think he's about to take us out of Amity Park – but he turns around after a while and we head away from the outlook and back toward town.

He leads us in a loop, driving around and around until I can feel myself drifting off. There's something rhythmic about the road beneath his tires and the soft music coming from his stereo. I fall asleep against the passenger door, my thoughts hazy and too hard to hold onto as sleep takes me under.

When I wake, he's parked us somewhere – an overcrowded parking lot that I don't recognize. I'm not sure how long I drifted off for but there's a lot less exhaustion running through me now.

I stretch my arms over my head with a yawn and he looks up from his phone to give me a smile. "How long was I out for?"

"Maybe half an hour," he says, dropping his phone down from eye level. When he drops his hand down to rest his phone on his thigh, I catch sight of the jittering in his leg.

"Are you okay?" I ask, nodding to his leg when he stares blankly at me. "You're… jumpy?"

He drops his stare down to his leg, shaking his head before he nods toward the windshield.

I turn to look out the windshield but there's only trees. I shift my gaze out my window, taking in the surroundings of the parking lot and trying to gauge where we are. It all feels so familiar, but I can't really put my finger on it. Until I see an entourage of police cars parked in front of the building.

My stomach drops. This cold feeling rushes through me and for a moment, my whole world spins. My gaze locks on the front doors, heart nestled tightly against my esophagus.

He's brought me to the hospital?

"What are we doing here?" I ask, turning back to look at Danny.

He shrugs, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. His leg's still bouncing. "I don't know. You wanted to be here today."

Fuck, he's letting me do this? I thought he'd listen to Alex and not let me anywhere near the hospital today. But we're here. And my dad's just a few hundred yards away.

I turn back to the window, staring out like dad will materialize right in front of me.

"I don't know if this the wrong choice or not," Danny confesses. "If you want to get out of here, we'll go."

God, I've been fighting against Alex so hard just to get here today. And now that I am, I… I can't decide. I don't know if I want to see my dad. If I want to walk through the doors and see him again. It feels like it's been decades since I saw him. Fuck, that middle of the night, hazy ride here feels like a lifetime ago.

"No… I want to stay." I practically whisper the words but at least they leave my mouth. I let out a breath slowly, unbuckling my seatbelt before I turn to look at him again. "Are you coming inside with me or…?"

He shakes his head, sympathy clear in his expression. "Neither of us are." He groans softly, reaching across the space between us. "I'm sorry, I can't let you go in there. But you can watch, okay? This is… it's the best I can do. I'm sorry."

It's more than Alex would give me. And maybe it's better this way. I think if I get out of this car, I might follow Dad home. And I… I don't want to go home. Not to him.

I squeeze Danny's hand in my own before I look out the window again. Watching from the car is better than sitting in the living room, wondering what's happening.

If this is as close as I can get, then it's enough. This has to be enough of a goodbye this time.


We sit in silence for almost forty minutes, Danny keeping the radio soft and me watching out the window. Waiting for Dad to walk out of those front doors.

I almost miss him. Because he's not walking – he's being pushed out in a wheelchair. An officer is pushing his wheelchair and I don't recognize him. But the man in the wheelchair… him, I know.

My breath catches in my throat. Stomach flips. God, there he is.

The hospital stay has aged him. Lines are drawn in his face – around his eyes and mouth. It makes him look older. My dad's never been one to keep a beard, but he has one now.

He seems different now. So frail.

Chuck is walking next to him, one hand on my dad's shoulder and it hurts. That should be me. I should be the one beside him, pushing his wheelchair, telling him that we all missed him. But I'm sitting in my boyfriend's car, too afraid to make a fucking move.

Other police officers and townspeople are surrounding him, fanning out either side of the wheelchair like a damn entourage. Even the fucking mayor is here, paying my dad a visit.

God, this burns. I should be there. I could be there. But-

"Danny-"

"I'm sorry, I can't," he whispers the words, and I can hear it in his voice. This is tearing at him too.

I just want to get out of the car and tell Dad I'm here for him. That his family's showed up after all. For a second, I don't think he's expecting me to be here. But he lifts his stare from his lap and scans the parking lot. God, he wants me to be here.

"Please," it's nothing more than a whisper as I weakly tug on the door handle. But Danny's locked the doors already and I know he won't give in.

This feels worse than if I was stuck at the apartment. Here – I'm so close to him. I could get out and tell him I'm here. I could hit the unlock button on my door. Run across the parking lot to get to Dad. But… something keeps my hand from moving up to the button.

"I'm sorry," Danny whispers softly and I wish that was enough. He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes softly. That's not enough either. It's my dad. How can I just sit here?

This feels like saying goodbye. But if he doesn't get to hear me, does it really count? Can I call this a goodbye if I'm the only one saying it? If not for Danny, would I have even had the guts to come all this way?

Danny squeezes my shoulder again and I lean into the touch. He unbuckles his seatbelt and moves closer to me. He wraps his arms around my chest and pulls me into his embrace.

His chin rests on my shoulder and I feel his breath hit my neck when he exhales out.

"I'm sorry this is so hard on you."

I swallow hard, trying to understand the hurricane in my chest. It doesn't feel right. I'm watching my dad get into the passenger seat of a police car. I should be breaking apart and breaking down but I'm not. I'm just watching it happen. Like it doesn't mean anything to me. Maybe one day it won't but right now… god, there's this ache in my bones that I can't explain.

Danny kisses my neck softly, whispering my name. And when Chuck closes the car door after my dad, I close my eyes.

I thought I said goodbye that night in the hospital. When he was sleeping and I was desperately wishing for the strength to stay put. It didn't feel like goodbye. And this doesn't either. I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to walk away from someone that used to be my world?

I turn to Danny, and he kisses me. Maybe I don't have to have all the answers now. Maybe it's enough that I've come this far. Saying goodbye to someone that's put me through hell is now an option in my mind. I can't remember a time when I even entertained the idea.

It's possible now. And god, I want it. I ache for nothing more than letting this whole situation go and never thinking about my father again. It seemed so simple when he was in the hospital. I just packed my shit and moved into Alex's apartment and decided I was never looking back.

But now that Dad's out… how can I ever stop myself from following him home?


Danny takes me home the long way. We go down backstreets together and though he suggests stopping for a coffee, I'd rather just go home. So he takes me back to the apartment. Cuts the engine, follows me up the stairs.

"I can stay for a little while," he offers, when I've unlocked the front door.

I shake my head. "That's alright. I know your parents want you home."

Danny groans softly, following me into the apartment anyway. "Yeah but… if you need me, I'd rather stay with you. You know that."

"I'll be fine."

Danny hesitates, his hand hovering on the front door – like he's about to push it closed. Stay inside. "You sure?"

I'm not sure about anything anymore. But Danny needs to be with his family – not dealing with me and my shit again. He's got his own life. His own problems to worry about. I can't have him always picking up after mine.

"Yeah. Alex'll be home soon and we've got to go to Tatiana's tonight anyway, so…" I let out a breath, unzipping my jacket and pulling it off. "Might as well get some homework done before we go."

Danny chews on his bottom lip, glancing toward the living room. "I can stay and help you out with your algebra."

"That's okay, I've got it."

He makes a face, a smile pulling at his expression. "Now I know you're lying. Algebra makes you want to tear your hair out."

I hang my jacket on one of the hooks by the door before looking at him. He watches me and I don't have any words left so I simply shrug.

He holds my stare – searches my face for the truth. We both know I'm lying. But we both know I'm not backing down anyway.

Danny finally sighs, reaching for me. "You'll call me if you want to talk?" he asks, closing the distance between us as he slides his arms around my hips, resting his hands in the small of my back.

He meets my lips for a gentle kiss but I don't let it last for long. I think I need to be alone. Clear my head. And kissing Danny can only just pull my mind further away from Dad.

I pull away from him. "Text me when you're home so I know you got there safe, alright?"

His expression falls but he nods anyway. "Sure."

There's a hesitation between us that shouldn't be there. This is usually the part where one of us pulls the other one back in for another kiss. But I'm keeping distance between us and I know he can tell.

I wish it didn't feel like this. I wish I didn't feel the need to hold back or keep space – especially with him.

Danny gives me a soft smile and turns back to the door. I watch him leave the apartment and go down the stairs. He waves when he reaches his car and though I wave back, I shut the door as soon as he's in his car.

I don't bother to lock up. I'm not entirely sure I'm staying here for long. I have the urge to call a car and go across town to my house. Or… Dad's house now.

I can't sit still. So I end up pacing. Through the kitchen and living room and even back into the bedroom. I can't stop my mind from racing and by the time I reach the bedroom, my heart's a jumbled mess, my breath sticking in my throat.

Alex has left a pack of cigarettes on top of the dresser. There's only three inside. I wonder if he'd notice if I take one…

My fingers tremble as I close them around the pack, but I swipe it anyway. His lighter's not in any of the dresser drawers so I go back to the kitchen.

There's a box of matches in the cabinet beside the fridge. And a few bottles of beer inside the fridge. I take two bottles and the matches and go to the bedroom, second-guessing myself twice before I just fucking commit.

I ease the balcony doors open and close them behind me. I just need to stop thinking. If I can numb the racing in my brain for just a little while, I'll be able to breathe without short circuiting. If that's even possible for me.

I open the beer first. It's bitter and not my usual taste in alcohol. But it's good enough for now. And when I manage to light a cigarette, I don't really care about the beer anymore.

The smoke burns my lungs with the first hit I drag in. It's a good kind of burn. The kind that keeps my mind far away from everything else.

I lean my arms against the balcony railing and stare out into the parking lot below.

I don't want to be here. Across town in an apartment I don't belong in. I should be with Dad. I'm his son.

Everything's starting to hit me and I sink down on the balcony, my knees against the railing spindles now. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing out here. Or if I even fucking want to see Dad.

It's too much. It's all too much – the lines on his face. His beard and exhaustion. The hitch in my breath. The ash from this cigarette, burning where it lands.

I can't do this. How the fuck am I supposed to make a decision when I'm like this?

Why'd Danny let me go there? How was this supposed to help me?


I only drink one beer, but I smoke the three cigarettes – hoping Alex'll forget about the pack. He might just chalk it up to misplacing it. If I'm lucky… he won't even ask about where it's been.

I've been sitting on the balcony floor for the better part of an hour – ignoring texts from Danny. But Alex'll be home soon so… I get up from the floor, gather the empty cigarette pack and box of matches, and turn my stare out to the parking lot. My eyes are focused on the cars several stories below me but I'm not really seeing them. I'm not really seeing much of anything right now.

The balcony doors slide open behind me and I jump, heart racing as I turn around to look.

"Hey, what are you doing out here?"

Alex is staring back at me, his gaze searching my face. I watch as his eyes travel down to my feet – to the two bottles of beer standing like silent soldiers next to me.

His gaze travels back up to my face. "What are you doing?"

I nonchalantly wedge the empty cigarette pack and box of matches in my back pocket. Good thing he didn't see those. "Nothing. I was on the phone."

He raises an eyebrow, his gaze still searching my face. "Come inside. Kendra's on her way home, we're leaving for my mom's soon."

I wait until he's stepped back from the doorway before I step back inside the bedroom. I can't meet Alex's stare but I can feel his gaze on me.

"Did you take those from my dresser?"

My heart jumps in my chest and I look up at him. "Take what?"

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, but I can tell he doesn't believe me. He searches my expression for a moment longer before letting out a quiet breath. "Dash, you can't smoke."

"You do it."

If I had any chance of playing innocent, I think I just blew it. I don't even know why I say it. But from the look on Alex's face when I raise my stare, that's the last thing I should have said.

He sighs heavily, nodding toward the balcony. "Get your bottles."

Shit. I forgot about that.

I turn back to grab them and when I step inside again, Alex is standing at one end of his bed.

"I'll take that." He nods toward the bottles, holding his hand out. "You go take a shower so we can leave when Kendra's home."

I hand over the bottles and he takes them with one hand. "I wasn't really planning on showering."

"You smell like cigarettes. Go." He points to the bathroom with his empty hand and starts out of his bedroom.

He's not gonna let this go even if I refuse. So I don't. I just go into the bathroom and start the shower water, hoping it washes out this weighted feeling from my bones.

I stand under the shower spray for a long time. Wash my hair twice. I still taste the smoke in my throat. No matter how many times I rinse my mouth.

Alex knocks on the door after a while. I have the sick urge to tell him I'm gonna skip this whole dinner altogether. But something about that just isn't fair.

I shut the water off and step out. I get a towel from under the sink and use it to wipe the steam off the mirror. I stare at myself in the mirror, trying to figure out where the worst bruising remains. I think it's my ribcage. Though my back still looks pretty fucking brutal with the burn lines running down it. They've barely hurt the past few days. Or maybe I'm just numb to it.

Alex is leaning against the end of his bed when I step out, towel wrapped around my waist. A pile of my clothes are set out on the other end of the bed. He nods toward the pile.

"Get dressed. We need to talk."

"If this is about the smoking-"

"Dash," he cuts me off, a muscle working in his jaw as he breathes out through his nose. "Get dressed."

I don't know why this is suddenly a big fucking deal. I'm eighteen – I can do whatever the fuck I want. And if he can have a few cigarettes, so can I.

I grab a pair of jeans and a t-shirt anyway and lock myself in the bathroom again. I almost want to linger in the bathroom, take my time getting dressed. So we'll lose the chance to talk before Kendra comes home. But I also want to get this over with.

Alex is sitting on the bed when I come out this time. He's moved the pile back a little and he nods toward the now empty space. "Sit."

"I'm good." I come to a stop at the end of his bed and slide my hands in my pockets. "What's up?"

He sighs heavily, hanging his head just a little. "Can you please just sit for a second?"

"What difference does it make?"

"Why do you always have to fight me on stuff?" He looks up with the question, but he doesn't seem to be waiting for an answer. "Fine, stand. I don't care."

He runs one hand through his hair, shifting his gaze away from me. He's silent for a few, agonizing seconds. I wish he'd just get this over with.

"I don't want you smoking," he finally says, looking back at me with the words. "It's a terrible habit that I never should have started. I'm not watching you go down the same road."

I don't even really care about the cigarettes. They taste horrible and the scent makes feel a little sick anyway. But something in me has to fight him. Cause I'm sick of everyone telling me what to do. I don't want Alex to become one of them.

"You can't exactly stop me."

"Damn it, Dash." Alex stands from the bed, muttering in Spanish. He hesitates for a few seconds before he meets my gaze. "I'm not fighting you on this. You're not smoking."

"I will if I want to."

He closes his eyes. That same muscle works in his jaw.

"Why are you so determined this is something you want to do, anyway?" he asks, opening his eyes to look at me now. "What's so great about them to you?"

There's nothing great about the cigarettes. I don't even really care that much. And if he was asking, I'd promise him not to in a second. But Alex telling me not to is igniting the worst part of me. The part that always has to push away when things are going well.

"It's not the cigarettes. It's this – you telling me what to do." I gesture toward him. "I don't need this. I've been doing fine on my own my whole life. I don't need one more person trying to decide what's best for me."

Alex stares at me in silence. And for a second, I think I've made my point and that he understands. But recognition clicks in his eyes.

"You went to see Howard."

Fuck, do we have to do this?

I almost lie – ask him how the fuck I would have gone to see him with Danny babysitting me the whole time. But he knows. And I don't want to fucking lie about something that's supposed to be my choice.

"He's my dad."

"I don't care. I told you it wasn't a good idea." His tone is clipped now, practically spitting the words at me. "You went to see him and now you're suddenly lighting up. This is exactly why I told you not to go see him."

"It wasn't your decision to make," I spit back, my hands clenching into fists in my pockets. "It's mine. I'm the one who gets to decide if I want to see him again."

Alex shakes his head, looking away from me.

There's so many things we could both say in this moment. But the front door opens before either of us get the chance. Kendra's home.

"Alex, Dash, I'm home!" she calls into the apartment.

I can hear her hanging her keys up by the door before she starts our way. Alex still won't look at me.

"Hey," Kendra greets as she steps in the room. She picks up on the awkward tension immediately, looking between the two of us. "Is something wrong?"

"No." I pull my hands from my pockets and start out of the room. I hear Alex say something softly to Kendra but I don't stop to hear what it is. I don't care.

I hear their bedroom door close behind me. But Alex sighs softly and I know he's followed me out.

He trails after me to the living room. I don't feel like sitting down but everything in me is exhausted. So I collapse on one end of the couch, nervous energy racing through me.

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do," Alex says softly. He hesitates for a second, but he sits on the cushion next to me. "I'm just trying to look out for you. You can understand that, right?"

Mom used to ask me the same thing. When she'd leave for work all day in the summer – leaving me home alone with Dad. She'd get home at night and see the bruises and ask me to understand.

She had to work – to keep money coming into the house. I liked my bike, didn't I? Her work was how she paid for things like my bike. She'd ask me to understand. And I'd nod. But I never fucking understood. I'd have given up all my stupid toys just to have her there with me. Protecting me from him.

"No, Alex." I lean back into the couch, blowing out a breath. "I don't understand."

He sighs, leaning forward to drop his head in his hands. I know he's frustrated but I am too. I'm tired of being told what I should do or who I should stay away from. It's my life. I get to be the one to decide what I want.

"I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I've already been hurt."

Alex lifts his head from his hands. He holds my stare then, slowly nodding. "I know."

I don't know what he wants me to say. Or if there's any words either one of us could speak to bridge this distance between us. It doesn't feel like there is.

Kendra comes into the living room, clasping an earring in one of her ears. She's changed into a red, long-sleeved dress that cinches in at the waist. She looks nice. Really dressed up. I feel like I should change into something better than jeans and a t-shirt.

"That's a nice dress," I comment.

She smiles, turning just a little so the bottom twirls out. "Thanks." She finishes with the earring and looks to Alex. "Are we ready to go?"

He looks up at her, nodding slowly. "Yeah." He gets up from the couch and hesitates for a second before he digs his keys from his pocket. "Why don't you go to the car first? We'll follow you down with the desserts."

She looks between us before letting out a breath. "Okay. My key is by the door so… just remember to lock up when you leave?"

Alex nods and she gives me a small smile before she leaves. I listen to her retreating footsteps for as long as I can before I get up from the couch.

"I'm gonna change into a different shirt," I say, tugging on the hem of my faded blue t-shirt.

I start for the bedroom again and Alex follows after me. Nerves are pooling in the pit of my stomach now that we're alone again. I don't want to fight anymore.

"How's your back?" he asks when I strip my shirt off.

I shrug, pulling a dress shirt from the pile on the bed. I feel like it might be overkill so I take a white t-shirt out too. Maybe if I layer it, I won't look like I'm playing dress-up.

"Fine."

"It doesn't hurt anymore?" Alex asks.

"Nope."

I think he can tell I'm lying. I don't care.

He leans against the end of the bed next to me. "Look, I don't want to fight anymore, okay? But you can't-"

"Do anything that's not Alex-approved." I don't know why I spit those words. I don't even fucking mean them. Part of me knows he's just trying to keep me safe. But he's about eighteen fucking years too late.

Alex sighs. "That's not what I said. Not even close." He pushes his hands through his hair, mumbling in Spanish under his breath. "We'll just… we'll talk more when we get home tonight, okay? We'll figure this out."

"Sure." I pull the t-shirt on and layer the black dress shirt on over top. I think it's an okay combination. Not too fancy but definitely looks like I tried harder than the first shirt I put on.

I step past Alex and into the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror. And I immediately hate the way it looks on me. If this was Danny, he'd be able to pull this off and look sexy as hell in it. But I look like my dad. I look like my fucking father.

"Just… come out to the living room when you're done getting dressed," Alex says softly. He leaves the door open behind him when he goes.

I stare at myself in the mirror – into the same blue eyes my mother has. At the same dirty blonde hair my father has. Same jawline, same crooked nose. Every scar and scrape his hands have left on me.

"Fuck."

The word escapes me, and I rake my fingers through my hair, my gaze trailing down to the black dress shirt. The kind my dad wears. Fuck, this might even be one of his.

My hands shake as I all but rip the shirt off, my white undershirt quickly following. My chest heaves and my stomach flips uncomfortably but I grip the edge of the bathroom counter – stare at myself for a moment longer. Until my breath is calmer and my emotions are tucked away into the far recesses of my mind.

I can't go there right now. I can't look at myself and see all the ways I look like him.

I put my t-shirt back on. And for looks, I pull on the sweater Danny gave me. It's not much. But it's better than walking out of here as a fucking carbon copy of Howard Baxter.


Alex is standing at the edge of the living room when I come out of the bedroom. "There's two containers on the end of the table. Carry those down to the car – I'll be right after you."

I nod and step into the kitchen. I expect him to follow after me but he doesn't. So I take the containers, grab my jacket by the door, and leave him inside.

Kendra's in the driver's seat when I get to the car. She looks at me in the rearview mirror as I climb into the back seat. "Everything okay?"

I settle in my seat and set the dessert containers down next to me. I close the door. Try to forget the demons in the mirror.

"Yeah, I guess."

She sighs, turning around in her seat. She studies me in silence for a few seconds and her stare prickles against my skin. I don't know what she's looking for. I get the feeling that she doesn't know either.

"Were you two fighting again? Before I came home?"

I shrug. Lately, it feels like I'm always fighting him.

Kendra sighs heavily. She turns to face out the windshield again. "I'll talk to him."

"Don't bother," I say. "He's not going to listen."

She glances at me in the rearview mirror before she turns to look at the apartment. She mumbles something softly, more to herself than to me. After a few seconds of silence, she turns the radio on, and I sink into the sound.

It helps me ignore it when Alex comes to the car, his footsteps slow and lingering. Like he's deep in thought. I look up at him through the windshield as he notices Kendra in the driver's seat. He climbs into the passenger seat without a word.

Kendra doesn't speak either and I'm not up for any kind of conversation. So the three of us start away from the apartment, headed toward Tatiana's. To tell her the news that we're all going to live together.

Somehow, this awkward car ride feels like some kind of sick joke from the universe. We're on the way to tell people close to us the good news. All while swallowing and hiding the bad.


We're halfway to Tatiana's when Kendra eases to a stop. She pulls the car over on the side of the road and puts the hazard lights on.

"What are you-"

Kendra turns to look at Alex. He falls silent at the expression on her face. She looks to me then, her stare slowly drifting between us.

"I need the two of you to call a truce. Just for a few hours." She looks between us again. "I want us to have a nice time with everyone tonight. I don't want the two of you fighting the whole time."

Alex sighs, turning his stare out the window.

I don't feel like getting along with him. I didn't even do anything – he's the one making a big deal out of this. Out of my choice.

"Can you two do that for me?" Kendra's voice is small on the question. And she hesitates for a few seconds before continuing, her voice shaky as the words come out. "This dinner is important for us, remember? So please, just… don't fight while we're there."

This dinner is important. Alex has waited a long time to tell his mom that he's staying in Amity Park. I don't even know how long but… it's just one dinner. I've made it through worse before.

"Alex," I call his name softly and wait until he turns around to look at me. "I'll do a truce if you will."

He blows out a breath, nodding slowly. He doesn't say anything before he turns around again and I think Kendra wants him to.

She keeps watching him, like he might say something if she does. But he stays silent, so she takes the hazard lights off again. She eases onto the road and pulls away from the spot she parked in front of.

None of us say a word as Kendra continues the drive to Tatiana's. The silence is weighted as fuck between the three of us and I know I'm not the only one thinking it. There's no way this truce holds out until the end of the night.


Kendra pulls to a stop in front of Tatiana's – the house seeming so much bigger and more looming than before. When we came here for Christmas, this place felt like my safe haven. An escape from the hell Dad put me through. But now… it feels like the weight of the world's on my shoulders as I get out of the car.

I balance the dessert trays against my forearm as I get out. I glance up as I shut the door, catching Alex's stare. He looks away as soon as I meet his eyes. This is usually the part where he insists on carrying whatever I have cause he's hardwired to help. But he doesn't say a word.

Alex slides his hand into Kendra's instead and the two of them walk beside me. When we get to the front porch, I fall behind. Alex glances over his shoulder at me and this time, he holds my stare for a moment or two.

He searches my expression – maybe wondering if I want out of this dinner. But I guess he doesn't find whatever he's looking for in my expression, because he steps up onto the porch. Kendra rings the bell and the three of us wait in silence.

Tatiana opens the door, a pair of oven mitts in one hand. Her expression lightens when she sees us, a grin stretching wide across her face. Her eyes crinkle up into half-moons from the expression.

"Come in, come in! Kendra, you look lovely dear." She ushers the three of us inside, talking softly in Spanish to Kendra.

Alex lets go of her hand as she follows Tatiana into the house. He hesitates for a second before he looks to me, beckoning me forward.

He still doesn't say anything to me and the silence picks at me. Reminds me of nights with Mom – where silence was all she would give me. After she'd insist that I'd egged Dad on, made him come after us for some reason.

I don't want to go inside. My stomach is tied in knots and my heart's beating steadily against my throat. There's this sinking feeling in my gut that this dinner is going to end badly. Something about it is weighing on my chest and I don't want to find out why.

But it's cold. And it's not as if I have anywhere else to go or any way to get there. So I follow Alex inside.

Chuck's already here. He's sitting at one end of the table, drinking a beer and laughing at something Anastasia is saying. I almost want to joke if there's a beer left for me but… I don't want to set Alex off.

"Hey, how you guys doing?" Chuck greets when we come into the dining room.

Tatiana whisks Kendra away into the kitchen with her. I watch them go with a bit of envy. I don't want to stand here in awkward silence.

Chuck gets up from his chair and closes the distance between us. He claps Alex on the shoulder.

"You alright?" He looks between the two of us. "You're both quiet."

I shift the dessert containers in my hands and realize I have the perfect excuse.

"I'm going to go ask Tatiana where to put these." I hold the containers up a little higher when Alex looks my way.

I can feel his stare on me as I slip out of the room and down the hall. I don't stop though – I don't want to get pulled into that conversation.

Tatiana's rattling on in Spanish when I come into the kitchen. She's standing with her back to me, stirring a pot on the stove.

Kendra's on the other side of the kitchen with Anastasia. She's the first to take notice of me.

"Hey, Dash. Looking to put those down somewhere?" she asks, already holding out her hands to take them from me.

I nod and hand over the containers just as Tatiana turns around. Her face lights up when she sees me and my heart jumps in my chest. She's excited to see me? After the last time I saw her, I thought she'd-

"Dash! I've missed you, cariño." She crosses the distance between us and pulls me into a hug. She squeezes me tightly against her, swaying back and forth as she speaks Spanish words in a sing-song voice.

Anastasia moves to the stove, taking up stirring in her mom's absence but she looks over her shoulder at us.

I don't know what Tatiana's saying to me and my throat is tight but I make myself speak anyway. "I've missed you, too."

Tatiana pulls away, patting my cheeks. "Is mi hijo keeping you well-fed? You don't need anything, do you?"

"N-No, I'm… it's all good." I smile but it feels forced. I wonder if she can tell. "Thanks, Tatiana."

Her smile loses a bit of the warmth it held only seconds before and I know I haven't escaped her radar. "Is something wrong?"

I shake my head even though Kendra's watching us now. My face is hot.

"Nope. Just uhh… glad to have some time away from school, you know?"

Tatiana nods, smiling softly before she pulls me in for another hug. "You're always welcome here, cariño. You just drop by whenever."

I hug her tightly. I wonder what she'd say about me if I told her where I went today. Or what Alex caught me doing.

Tatiana lets go of me again but cups one side of my face. "You like nice. Very grown-up."

My face burns but I can't stop myself from smiling. "Thank you. It's… Danny bought this for me."

Her expression softens and a knowing look shines in her eyes. She gives me a nod, a soft smile on her face. "Well, it looks very handsome on you. He knows you well."

She pats my cheeks again before she moves back to the stove. Anastasia surrenders the spoon and they trade places.

"Speaking of Danny." Anastasia grins wickedly as she moves away from the stove. "How's he doing, huuuuh?"

Thank god for Anastasia. Her teasing words ease some of the tension strung so tightly in me.

I move closer to her – further into the kitchen and raise an eyebrow. "Really? You haven't seen me in like two weeks and that's the first thing you ask me?"

She shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a curious creature."

I roll my eyes, leaning forward to rest my arms on the counter next to her. "He's fine. Adjusting to his final semester at school – just like I am."

"How are your classes going?" Tatiana calls from across the kitchen.

She's got her back to me again, working with a pile of the vegetables. I watch her rinse a celery stalk before placing it on a plate. She picks up the next stalk, peeling away some of the wilted leaves gathered near the bottom of the stalk.

"They're fine. I think, anyway."

"How's it been back at school?" she continues, calling Anastasia's name, followed by a bit of Spanish. "Are you settling in okay?"

Anastasia pushes away from the counter and goes to one of the cabinets. She rummages around inside, finding a plastic dish for her mom.

I drop my gaze to the counter, shrugging – even though neither of them are looking at me. "It's going okay."

"Cariño, is something bothering you?"

Tatiana's turned around to look at me when I raise my stare again. Her eyebrows are drawn down, mouth puckered into a frown. I almost want to tell her the truth. That less than an hour ago, Alex and I were fighting over something so stupid.

But I don't want to get into it now. And I promised Kendra.

I force a smile on my face and straighten up from the counter. "I'm fine. Just… tired, I guess."

Tatiana doesn't believe me – I can tell from the look on her face. But she doesn't press for more information, and I don't offer it.

I don't want to go back into the dining room yet.

"You need any help with dinner?"

Tatiana's turned around to look at me again. Her expression is equal parts curious and concerned. I don't want to answer any of her questions so I offer up a semi-truth instead.

"If I don't at least offer, Anastasia will start going on about how unfair it is that she's helping and I'm not," I say with a grin.

Anastasia scoffs, leaning across the counter to swat me on the arm. "Oh shut up. And it's definitely unfair. Just cause I got here before you three did, I'm the one that has to be in the kitchen. I don't even really like-"

"Mi hija, that's enough." Tatiana cuts the stove burner off and grabs two potholders from the counter beside her. "Everything's almost ready."

Kendra looks my way, but I don't meet her gaze. I'll just keep standing here if that's what it takes. I don't know what Alex is telling Chuck about me and I… really don't want to walk into the middle of that conversation.

Tatiana moves the pot from the stove burner to an potholder laid out on the counter. "Go sit down. Make yourself comfortable."

I must hesitate too long. Because all three of them are looking at me now. And I can't make myself look any of them in the eye. This isn't even that big of a deal. I'm just avoiding it because that's all I know how to do.

"What's-"

"Alex was on him again," Kendra says softly.

I look to her at that, but she's got her gaze set on Tatiana. She looks like she's holding back more than just those words.

Tatiana looks to Kendra. "Why? What's going on?"

"Got me. It's like… Alex just keeps finding things to fight with him about. Like he has to find something," Kendra says in a rush.

"That's mi hijo," Tatiana mutters softly, shaking her head.

Kendra turns to look at me again. And I'm caught in the middle of my own staring act, my gaze shifting between her and Tatiana. I can't look away fast enough and Tatiana catches my eye.

"Cariño, do you want me to talk to him?" Tatiana asks softly. She closes the distance between us. Puts her hand on my arm.

If things were different, I might ask that of her. But I can't even bring myself to tell her what we were fighting about. Because I'm ashamed. And a small, shred of myself wonders if Alex might be right. If what I did was wrong.

Going to see Dad was my choice. And I've been so caught up in letting myself have the choice, I never stopped to consider that I could be making the wrong one.

"No, that's… it's fine. It'll be okay." I swallow hard, force myself to meet Tatiana's gaze.

I guess I'm just still adjusting to living with people that care. People that don't disappear in the middle of the night. People that argue and fight without leaving bruises behind. This is all new territory to me and I don't know how to navigate it yet.

"Alex isn't trying to be hard on you," Tatiana says softly, reaching out to pat my cheeks again. "He cares for you. Very deeply, cariño. I'm sorry he's being hard on you. He just… he's been through so much. He doesn't want you to go through the same."

I've been through hell already. What exactly does Alex think he can protect me from?

"I know," I say instead.

It's bullshit – I think we both know it's bullshit. But there's nothing else I can say. I don't know why he's pushing me so hard. Why he's starting to act like some kind of stand-in parent. And I don't know why my first two instincts are to fight him or run.

Tatiana pats my cheeks a final time before she lets me go.

Anastasia takes her mom's place in front of me and lightly punches me on the shoulder.

"Come on, you want to help carry some of these dishes to the dining room? So you don't have to go in there alone?"

"Sure." I take one of the dishes she passes my way. I practically clutch it to my chest like some make-shift armor. It's just Alex. And maybe that's why this is so hard.

Chuck's sitting at the table again but Alex is still standing. His arms are crossed over his chest. And he looks right at me when Anastasia and I walk in.

I'm quick to look away but I can still feel his gaze on me. This tightness in my chest threatens to choke me. It feels like being at home all over again. Watching my every step so Dad wouldn't go off about something I could have never predicted.

Anastasia calls Alex's name, accompanied by several things in Spanish. And when the hair on the back of my neck stops standing up, I know he's looking at her now.

Chuck glances at me when I set a bowl of vegetables down in front of him. His stare lingers, his eyes filled with sympathy. I guess Alex told him everything.

"E-Everything's almost ready."

I don't know why I speak. Or why I look Alex's way. But the second we make eye-contact, I leave.

I go back to the kitchen. It's suddenly too hot in Tatiana's house and I have the urge to strip my sweater off. But I settle for pushing the sleeves up to my elbows, my hands shaky as fuck. God, why can't I get it together?

I drop my stare to my arms – to the few lingering bruises left on my arms. The ones gathered around my wrists and near my elbows – they've all turned the sickly yellow color bruises are famous for. Just a few more days and they'll disappear. Still… they look harsh against my skin. If I were a little paler, they might blend in more. But they stand out in stark contrast and I feel like everyone can see them.

"Dash, can you take these to the dining room, too?" Tatiana asks, barely looking my way before she sets a glass bowl down on the kitchen island. "There's some potholders in the drawer behind you if you need them."

I look down at the bowl she's placed in front of me. The heat from the mashed potatoes inside has already fogged up the glass. It's already hot, but I pick the bowl up anyway, letting that heat and burn keep me grounded.

I carry the bowl into the dining room and pass Anastasia on her way back into the kitchen. She shoots me a look of sympathy, but it doesn't do much. My insides are still shaking like I'm gonna throw up.

It takes a couple minutes longer, but eventually all the dishes Tatiana's prepared for dinner get to the table. And I sit next to Tatiana because I can't stand the thought of sitting next to Alex. It shouldn't be this way.

"You'll never guess who came into the ER last night," Tatiana starts the conversation off with. She looks between Alex and Kendra with a grin. "Do you remember Patrick Kent? You all went to prom together."

A faint smile pulls at Alex's expression. "Poor guy couldn't get a date."

"Didn't we end up going as a group?" Chuck asks, stabbing a bite of steak on his plate. "You, me, Kendra, Patrick,Nathan,and… god who was that girl from History class?"

"Carol." Alex grins. He stabs up a piece of chicken before looking Chuck's way. "Do you remember how long we spent trying to set her up with Patrick?"

Anastasia leans forward to snag the gravy boat. "Didn't Patrick come out a couple years ago?"

"I think so, yeah," Chuck says.

"No, he didn't," Tatiana says. She's shaking her head when I look at her. "No, he's married now to some… accountant woman, I forget her name. But he showed me pictures of the two of them and their three adorable kids."

Anastasia sets the gravy boat down again, licking her thumb from where she spilled gravy on it. "Okay then who am I thinking of that came out a few years ago?"

"Are you sure it's not you?" Alex teases.

Ana rolls her eyes and pinches off a piece of her roll to pitch his way.

"Hey! Quit it – no throwing food at my table, Ana," Tatiana says, fixing her with a glare.

Anastasia gives the two-finger salute, grinning as she puts down the second piece she'd already pinched off her roll.

Silence settles quickly over the table now. I'm not an expert in the Moreno family but it feels too quiet. Like we're all holding our breath, waiting on each other to talk.

"So, Mom." Alex sets his fork down, turning to look at Kendra.

She smiles, taking his hand in hers as Tatiana looks up. She glances between the two – obviously trying to understand what's passing between them. And despite everything, this tiny feeling of happiness or maybe just anticipation bursts to life in my stomach.

"We've got something to tell you."

"Oh… Alexander, what's wrong?" Tatiana drops her napkin into her lap, her eyebrows creased into a frown. She glances my way for a second before focusing her gaze on Alex.

Alex laughs softly, shaking his head. "Nothing's wrong, mama. It's good news. Really, really good news."

He looks to Kendra again. He smiles softly, leaving Tatiana in suspense. I can see her worry start to give way to curiosity. She tilts her head to one side, almost in question.

"Kendra and I… we're buying a house. Here. We're buying a house in Amity Park."

It takes a moment for Alex's words to register to Tatiana. She seems to process it in slow-motion. But when his words click, her expression breaks into the biggest smile I've ever seen on her.

"Oh, mi hijo!" She gets up from her chair and crosses the dining room over to him.

Alex lets go of Kendra's hand and stands from his chair, too. When she's close enough to him, Tatiana pulls him into a hug. She holds him tightly to her chest and murmurs softly in Spanish.

He laughs at something she's said and Spanish easily flows from him. He pulls away far enough to press a kiss to her forehead and she hugs him tighter.

When she finally pulls away, she dabs at her eyes with her fingers, sniffling and laughing as she steps back from him.

"Oh mi hijo, you have no idea how happy this makes me," she says. She leans forward to cup his face with her hands. "My beautiful boy… thank you for staying."

Alex lets out a quiet breath and squeezes her shoulders gently. She doesn't seem to need him to say anything more because she steps back and the two of them effortlessly resume their places at the dinner table.

"I can't believe you kept this quiet – how long have you been in the process of buying?" Tatiana looks between the two before tacking on another question. "Have you narrowed down house options yet?"

"We've actually already made an offer on a house we really love," Kendra says, a bright smile on her face when Tatiana looks to her. "And they've accepted our offer."

Tatiana lets out a breath, her expression some mixture of teary and proud. She reaches across the table to place her hand on top of Kendra's. She says so much with the simple hand squeeze she gives Kendra.

"I can't wait for you to see it," Kendra continues, her own smile looking watery now. "It's this beautiful four-bedroom home with a gorgeous backyard and the kitchen of our dreams. And it's… I just can't wait for you to see it yourself."

"I can't wait either," Tatiana says, pulling her hand back from Kendra with a frown. "But… four bedrooms? Is there someone-"

She stops there, turning to me with wide eyes and a hopeful expression. "Does this mean you're staying with them? You're moving in permanently?"

I can't help the smile I give her, nodding as she claps her hands together. I start to tell her I am – but I don't get the chance to speak before Alex does.

"Yeah, he is. As long as it's up to him," Alex says, deliberately not looking at me when I shift my stare to him. "I mean after today, he's made it pretty clear that this should be his choice."

The sudden silence is deafening. And Kendra calls his name softly but he won't look at her. He shifts his gaze to me. Locking me into this staring contest.

We called a truce. What the hell is this?

"What do you mean?" Tatiana asks. Her voice is practically a whisper in the quiet of this room.

Alex runs his tongue along his top teeth, watching me. He looks like he's weighing his options. It's not like I can stop him. But he agreed to a truce. Said we'd talk about this when we're home.

"Don't do this here."

Tatiana looks at me when I speak but I've got my stare on Alex. He keeps watching me, like he's debating how far to take this. It's already too far. This doesn't concern anyone else. Hell – it doesn't even concern Alex. He's just making it his problem.

Chuck clears his throat softly, leaning over to clap Alex on the shoulder. "Hey, let's just forget about it for now, okay?"

Alex finally looks away from me with a sigh. I catch the roll of his eyes when he looks at Chuck. And I suddenly don't want to spend another dinner pretending.

All my life, I've grown up watching what I say and do. Dad and I never fought. He punched and I tried to avoid it. But if Alex wants a fight, he can have it.

I drop my napkin beside my plate, leaning back in my chair. "Fine. You want to do this? Go ahead."

Alex meets my stare instantly. Kendra calls his name again, but he's fixed on me. Good. Have it out already. I'm sick of waiting.

"You really want to do this now?" he asks – like I'm the one who started this.

"No, okay? Stop, both of you," Kendra cuts in.

She shoots me a sympathetic look but shakes her head just a little. Like she doesn't want me encouraging this. I'm not doing anything. I'm just tired of tiptoeing around my own decisions. I know the situation with my dad is shit but it's my shit. And it shouldn't be anyone else's decision.

"Mi hijo, what's going on?" Tatiana's practically wringing her hands with the question. She keeps darting her gaze between us.

Alex meets my stare again. And all of this suddenly feels stupid. I don't care if they know. Any of them. I shouldn't have to defend my decision.

"I went to see my dad today. At the hospital."

Chuck lets out a breath, shaking his head as he looks at me. I don't know what he means with the look but I don't get a chance to figure it out. Alex speaks before I can give it a second thought.

"And he doesn't understand why that's a problem." Alex's jaw is clenched when I look at him, but his stare is on his mom.

Tatiana's eyebrows are pinched together, mouth drawn down when she looks at me. Like she can't fathom why I'd go see him again. I don't know what the big deal is. It's not like he could jump out of his wheelchair and club me over the head or something. He's been shot. He's fucking harmless right now.

"Amor, did you really do that to yourself?"

I let out a breath, nodding slowly. "Yes. And Alex is right-" I spare him a glance with the words. "I don't get why it's a big deal."

"Well, the fact that he's a bag of dicks in human skin for starters." Anastasia shrugs when I look her way. "I can't lie, kid. He's a horrible person."

"People can change," I say.

"Not Howard fucking Baxter," Alex spits.

The venom in his tone surprises me and my response comes out softer than I wanted. "He's still my dad."

Alex scoffs, leaning forward in his chair, eyes narrowed as he speaks. "Please. He might have knocked your mom up but that doesn't make him a father. He's just a guy whose sperm won."

"Alexander," Tatiana calls softly. She frowns when he won't look at her.

Chuck puts his hand on Alex's shoulder again. "Come on. Let's step outside for a second, okay? Get some fresh air."

"I don't need fucking air." Alex shrugs Chuck's hand off, turning to look at him. "Are you seriously going to defend him? To me of all people?"

Chuck lets out a breath when he meets Alex's stare. "No. Of course not, you know that."

"What are you talking about?"

Chuck hesitates for a second before he shifts his gaze to mine. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it, you've got nothing to do with it."

"But my dad does?"

He sighs, closing his eyes like he's trying to regain composure. Alex looks like he's seconds away from losing it and I don't get it. Any of this.

Everyone at the table is suddenly not looking at each other. Like they're all trying not to be the first one to break the silence. What are they hiding from me?

"What is it? Did something happen with my dad?"

Tatiana exhales softly, turning to me. "It's nothing. Eat your dinner, cariño. Por favor."

She goes back to her own food like it's nothing. It's not nothing. There's this huge weight settled between me and everyone else at this table. I don't understand it.

"What are you not telling me?"

"Let it go, Dash. You don't want to go down that road tonight," Anastasia says, trying to convey some sort of message just in her wide-eyed expression. She tries twice but I still don't get it.

Chuck returns to his own food but Alex won't eat. He and Kendra are both just staring down at the table. They're the ones who have to come home with me tonight. They can't avoid me forever.

I'm not hungry anymore. My stomach's tied in knots and I can barely swallow past the lump in my throat. I try to ask the question again – phrase it differently so maybe this time someone will answer me but… the words won't come.

"You know… he has a right to know," Kendra finally says – the first words she's spoken since I confessed I'd gone to see my dad.

"No, he doesn't." Alex turns to her with a glare. Something passes between them that I don't understand.

But Kendra's right – if this is about my dad, I deserve to know.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I said it's nothing." Alex won't look away from Kendra but he continues speaking to me. "Stop asking and just eat."

Kendra's matching Alex's intense stare with her own. There's something earnest in hers – like she's begging him to just spill it. To let me in on whatever he's hidden this long.

My stomach twists on itself as I shift my stare between Kendra and Alex. I don't understand what's passing between them – what this secret they're trying to keep from me could be.

"What's the worst that could happen if he knows?" Anastasia asks, her voice soft on the few words.

"I'm not telling him." Alex finally looks from Kendra to Anastasia. He fixes her with that same intense stare but Ana's not like Kendra. She just raises an eyebrow and shakes her head.

Anastasia lets out a breath. "You don't have to be the one to say it."

"No one is saying it."

He holds Ana's stare but for a moment – just a flash of a second – his gaze shifts toward me. And I catch the look in his eyes. Like he can't stand to look at me. Like I disgust him.

Same dirty blonde hair as him… same jaw line. Same crooked nose.

My stomach plummets. The breath I draw in shakes – and his gaze is back on Anastasia, but it might as well be boring right into me.

"Anastasia, leave your brother alone," Tatiana says giving Alex a sympathetic look. She says something softly in Spanish that makes Anastasia scoff.

"Mom, if he keeps bottling it up, he'll never-"

"Ana, stop. That's enough," Tatiana cuts her off. She holds Anastasia's stare for a moment longer before returning her stare to her food.

I catch Anastasia's stare as she looks away from her mom. She holds my gaze for a few seconds, and I know she understands. But I don't want to know anymore. He can hide this from me forever if it means I never have to see that look in his eyes again.

"Why can't you tell him?" Anastasia presses again, raising her eyebrows when Alex looks at her. "He'd understand. You know he'd understand."

"Fuck you."

The words fall on all of us, silencing everyone in the room. It's like a shockwave rippling through the room at Alex's harsh words spoken so calmly in the moment. He's almost too calm as he holds Anastasia's stare. And I've never seen her at such a loss for words.

My breath catches in my throat as Alex pushes his chair back from the table. He still holds Anastasia's stare as he stands and I pray he doesn't look at me again.

"You have no idea what this is has been like for me. None."

Tatiana calls his name as he leaves the dining room. He doesn't stop – and after a few seconds, we hear the front door open and slam shut behind him.

Another moment of silence moves through the room. Like we're all collectively holding our breath – waiting on someone else to make a move.

Tatiana breaks the silence with a sigh. "Why, cariño?"

Her stare is focused on Anastasia but I still look up at the name. Still wonder if she sees it too – how much I must look like him to Alex. Maybe to all of them…

Anastasia sighs, leaning back in her chair. "He has to start talking about it. Do you really want to watch him spiral again?"

Tatiana groans softly, dropping her stare from Anastasia back down to the table. I get the feeling that the last time they had this conversation, it didn't end well.

Chuck pushes back from the table, dropping his napkin beside his plate. He offers a smile when I look at him. "I'll go talk to him."

"Let me."

I barely have time to think it through before I speak. And when they all turn to look at me, I get out of my chair. I can't sit here and wonder if Alex will only ever see me as a younger version of my dad. I have to see him – convince him that I'm still me… even if parts of me look like Dad.

Chuck hesitates, sparing a glance at Kendra before he looks at me again. "Dash… maybe you shouldn't-"

"I'm not going to push him about this," I promise, my voice soft on the words. I mean them, too… I don't want to do anything to drive him further away from me. Even if it means killing my own curiosity at this situation.

No one tries to stop me as I leave the dining room. And something about that sets this nervous thrumming in my veins as I cross through the living room. My stomach twists as I open the front door and there's this sinking feeling in my gut.

I can feel the cold air even through the screen – and I catch the scent of a cigarette as soon as I open it.

Alex is standing at the edge of the porch, lit cigarette raised to his mouth. He doesn't look at me when I step outside. I let the screen door bang shut behind me so I know he'll hear me but he still doesn't look my way.

I shuffle closer to him but he keeps his gaze trained out into the street. Like one look at me will have him spilling everything.

He lets out a breath that shakes. Twists my stomachs up even more. I don't want to push you. Just… don't leave me because I look like him.

"I don't want to talk, Chuck," Alex breathes out, a cloud of smoke escaping him. It travels higher and higher into the air. Until it disappears into nothing.

He still won't look my way. Doesn't know it's me. I don't know if Chuck would push him to talk. But I didn't come out here for that.

"We don't have to talk."

I swallow hard when he looks at me. Nerves shoot through me, making my stomach clench and my breath hang in my throat. For a second, neither one of us has anything to say. We just hold each other's gaze, an enveloping silence so strong, I don't want to break it. But I followed him out. I should be the one to.

"If you can't tell me why you hate my dad… I get it." My voice is stronger on the words than I was anticipating. Something in his gaze softens and I try my last chance. "Unless you want to…"

That softness leaves his expression. His eyes narrow and when he sets his jaw, I try to take it back. But he speaks before I can, his voice harsh and definitive.

"No. I'm not telling you this. Not tonight – not ever." Alex holds my stare, the intensity in his eyes sending anxiety racing through me as he continues. "Don't ask me again. You have no reason to know this."

I swallow hard, giving him a nod. The next words in me don't want to come out – I stutter over them twice and I open and close my mouth several times. Alex doesn't say anything and that silence keeps the anxiety swelling in me. He wouldn't usually let me flounder like this for long.

My stomach clenches tighter but I manage to speak this time, my voice shaky as hell. "But… you have to know th-that you can't… can't ask me to stay away from him if you can't tell me why."

Alex sighs heavily, his stare still holding me in place. "The fact that he's put you in the hospital multiple times isn't enough for you?"

I don't know how to explain the uncertainty sitting on my chest. Alex knows something about him that I don't. Something that could probably make me run from him forever. But… he's my dad. Even after everything… it's my dad. As fucked up as we can get, I can't lose the last piece of my family.

Alex pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. He shakes his head as he speaks. "Fine. I can't stop you. You've made that perfectly clear."

I don't miss the bite in his tone and he looks away from me quickly. He drops his hand from his nose and lifts the cigarette to his mouth, inhaling a quick breath. He stares off into the distance and I decide to give him something. Compromise.

"Just so you know, I'm not going to smoke again. I know it was stupid. I don't even know why I did it, I just… did."

Alex gives me a funny look then, like he can't really understand me. His stare unnerves me. But I swallow hard and give a little more.

"I know you're trying to protect me. I'm sorry I was such a dick."

"Why are you apologizing now?" he asks, his eyebrows drawn down when I meet his gaze. He nods toward the house. "Did one of them say something to you?"

I shake my head, but my breaths caught in my throat still. What could any of them have said to me? What should I know about my father?

Alex's expression doesn't change. He keeps watching me in that same stilted silence I've never been good with.

"I just know… that you're really doing me a favor here. Moving in with you? Taking me where I need to go? You're… you're really helping me." I drop my gaze from his, feeling those nerves twist inside my gut again. "I don't know. Just seems kind of stupid to throw it back in your face."

He's quiet for a few seconds before he speaks, his voice soft. "You weren't being a dick. You have the right to be angry with me when you feel like I'm overstepping."

I meet his stare again and he lets out a breath.

"I'm not your parent, Dash. I know I've crossed the line a few times – told you not to do something when it really should be more of a suggestion." He shakes his head as he drops his stare to the ground. "You're just… sometimes you remind me so much of myself when I was younger and I… I don't want to see you go down the paths I did."

He lifts his cigarette to his mouth again, taking a long pull this time. When he blows out the cloud of smoke, he turns to watch it rise higher in the air.

I find myself fixated on the smoke, too. Something about it reminds me of my dad. The way he looked in that wheelchair, coming out of the hospital.

My throat's dry and scratchy when I swallow. If this was different – if any part of this was different – I'd be with him right now. Helping him get to bed. Changing his bandages. Telling him that everything would be okay.

But I spent my Christmas vacation healing from what his hands have always done to me. I miss him like hell and this whole thing hurts but… I don't want to live with him anymore. I don't want to be responsible for helping the person who hurt me.

"You remember that morning I picked you up from your friend's place?" Alex asks, his gaze still set on the sky. "I think you said his name is Dale."

"Uhh… yeah, it's Dale. What about it?"

Alex takes in another drag off his cigarette. He exhales it out slowly. "You remember how I told you that I'd always have your back? No matter what?"

My throat's tight again. We said a lot that morning – especially about my dad. Where's he going with this?

He turns to look at me without waiting for my answer. "I meant it. I'm always gonna have your back. Even if…" He blows out a breath, looking away from me. He opens his mouth, hesitating in the silence, before the words come out. "Even if… Even if it's something I don't agree with. Something… I don't understand. I'm here for you. I'll always be here."

He meets my stare then. Gives me a subtle nod.

Damn it, I don't deserve him. He's got kindness poured into his bones and mine are forever cracking. I can't do this. I can't stand here and bullshit that this whole day hasn't fucked with me. Not with him looking at me like that – not with him putting his feelings aside to help me with mine.

"Alex, this is… it was hard," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

We're plunged into silence for a few seconds. I can't get the breath to speak and I guess he's hesitating for my benefit. But he puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes softly.

"You want to talk about it?"

I drag in a breath that shakes. "Is that okay?"

"Yes. Of course." He squeezes my shoulder again, giving me a little shake. "Come on, let's sit down."

He directs me over to the porch swing with his hand in the small of my back. My knees are suddenly knocking together and my stomach's twisting inside me. I don't know that speaking will be enough. I feel like bolting out of here, running into the night until I'm out of places to run. Worked for Mom.

"Did you talk to him?" Alex asks once we're sitting. He uses the toe of his shoe to push off against the porch, swinging us gently backward and forward.

I shake my head, slowly letting out a breath. "No, he… Danny wouldn't let me out of his car."

"Probably for the best."

My breath hangs in the air when I let it out. "I don't know. I feel… I feel like I should have said something to him. Let him know that I was there."

"He doesn't deserve that from you."

Alex's response is quick. And I know that's what he wants me to believe but it's not about whether he deserves it or not. It's about me and what I want from this. But I don't know what that is anymore. I thought I wanted to be around him. Maybe just say goodbye.

I thought I wanted closure or to not have any regrets. Maybe I just wanted to tell him to fuck off. I wanted something. And I'm not sure that I got it.

"I wish he wasn't my dad."

Alex stops the porch swing from moving. I drop my stare down to the porch beneath us – to his foot keeping us in place instead of swinging. I can feel his gaze on me but I can't look at him. Can't meet his stare as we talk about this.

He slides his arm around my back. "Believe me, I know the feeling."

I nod, keeping my stare on the porch. I can't untwist these feelings inside me. They wrap around my heart like thorny vines. They squeeze and scratch me with every breath I draw in. And I know I could cut them to break free but… god, part of me doesn't even want to get free. Who could I possibly be without them?

"It'll get better. Every day it gets better," Alex says into the silence.

"How?" I whisper the word, almost hoping he doesn't hear me. I don't know if he should fill my head up with these promises of better days when… when there's a chance I'll never escape this pain.

He closes his hand around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. "When I was going through… some stuff, what helped me was being around people that cared about me. People that didn't give a shit what my history was." He gives me a gentle shake. "You'll find those people, too. And they won't care who your parents were or what they did to you. They'll care about you – exactly as you are."

Something scratches at me and I turn to look at him then. And there's an honesty so earnest in his expression, I can't hold back anymore.

"It was different for you," I practically whisper, shaking my head. "You had the rest of your family to turn to, I've got… I don't have anyone. There's you and Danny and some of my friends but… I don't have a real family. I don't have anybody."

His eyebrows pinch together, mouth drawn into a frown. I can't stand to look at the sadness in his eyes so I look away, shrugging his arm off my shoulder. He lets go of me a little and I feel the need to put distance between us. But my legs are too wobbly to stand on so I end up with my head in my hands, leaning forward on the porch swing. I don't know how to make him understand the feelings thrumming through my veins – how each one is more intense than the last.

"You know you have me. And Kendra, too. And I know my mom would do anything for you. Anastasia and Chuck, too." He lets out a breath. "You have people that care about you. Who cares if they're blood relatives or not?"

I care. I want people I can call my own. People that have known me for longer than Alex's family has. I want my parents back together. I want my dad to never hit me again but… fuck, I don't know that it would be enough. He could apologize forever but it'd still always hurt.

"Thanks," I say, running my hands down my face. I sit back in the swing, letting out a breath as I continue. "I know you're trying to make me feel better so… thank you for that."

Alex makes a soft noise, his hand gentle as he puts it on my shoulder. "It didn't help, did it?"

I shake my head. I don't want to lie to him right now. Not when he's trying and the only thing he's asking in return is honesty. I don't know how he did it when he was younger. I'm fucking scrambling but at least I've got Alex to hold me together the best he can.

I don't know if this pain is ever supposed to go away. If Alex is still struggling with shit that happened years ago, what hope is there for me? How in the hell am I supposed to let go of shit that hurts if Alex hasn't?

The front door creaks when someone opens it and I look toward the sound. Chuck fills the doorway, glancing between us as he steps out onto the porch. He lets the door swing shut behind him, his eyebrows raised.

"Everything okay out here?" His gaze darts between us with the question but we both know he's asking Alex.

"Yeah, we're actually coming inside. Just give us a second," Alex says. He nods toward Chuck and I listen as the door opens and shuts behind him again.

Alex watches the door before he looks back at me. "Listen to me. Blood relation isn't all there is to family. My mom, my sister, my extended family – they mean the world to me. But so does Kendra. And Chuck." His expression softens, eyebrows pinching together. "So do you."

I let out a breath that shakes, dropping my stare as I nod. He leans across the space between us, squeezing my shoulder. I can tell there's more he has to say but I'm not sure I'm ready to hear it.

"Thanks," I repeat, looking up at him again.

He gives me a soft smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Do you want to come inside and have dessert?"

I don't really want to be around everyone else anymore. But… I think Alex might be right. I think that being around people that care helps. I know it does – it's the only thing that held me together over Christmas break.

It doesn't take the sting away. It doesn't soften the blow. But… it's a gentle place to land. And after so many years of free falling, having that to count on is everything.


I guess our talk on the porch was good enough for Alex because he doesn't bring up me going to the hospital when we get to his apartment. It's almost midnight when we get in the door so Alex and Kendra go straight to bed.

I lay down on the couch when they go their room but I can't sleep. My mind's racing. Heart pounding. I just can't relax.

I try pacing for a while, attempting to recall Danny's breathing technique but it's not coming to me. I pull out my phone to text him but I don't want to wake him up. He could probably use the sleep.

I end up perched on the arm rest of the couch, thumbing through my other contacts. I don't know if any of my friends will be awake. I text Jeff first, but he doesn't respond. I aim for Dale next but I accidentally hit Blake's contact instead.

His name and picture loads on my screen. The last time we texted was that day he was late coming into social 's probably not even awake anymore… doesn't want to be bothered. Still…

To: Blake

You up?

He doesn't reply for several minutes. So I collapse against my pillows again, trying to will myself to sleep. My phone vibrates in my hand before I can give it a real attempt. I open my eyes to read his text and it takes several read-throughs to understand what he's saying.

From: Blake

Why? You making a booty call?

Oh my god. Ew.

To: Blake

That's disgusting

From: Blake

Lmao

What's up?

I don't know really. I can't sleep. I've got all these wild thoughts running circles in my head. But it's not that. Not really. It's… everything else. How hard my heart is pounding and how much I just want to run.

To: Blake

I can't sleep. You feel like going for a drive?

From: Blake

you sure you got the right number?

You know who you're talking to, right?

To: Blake

Yes

From: Blake

Why?

I have the urge to chuck my phone across the room. I didn't choose to text him as some kind of ulterior motive. I just texted him. I don't know. I want to get out of here.

To: Blake

No reason. I just thought you'd be awake

So you wanna come pick me up or nah?

He doesn't reply for several minutes again. I stare up at the ceiling, debating on sending him another text. Just when I've decided that he's definitely ignoring me, he texts back. I wasn't sure he'd say yes but… I suppose I'm getting out of here for a while. Clearing my head. Maybe that's not such a good thing to try for with Blake but… I guess I'll find out.

From: Blake

Text me the address.


I dress in a pair of jeans and a hoodie, too tired to find anything warmer. I don't think McDonalds closes for a couple more hours… maybe I can convince Blake to make a pit stop. If we're gonna be awake for a while, we might as well be caffeinated.

He texts me when he's in the parking lot and I quietly slip out of the apartment, pocketing Kendra's key that's hanging by the door again. I silently promise to return it before the sun's up and move quickly down the stairs.

Blake's got the heat running in his car and offers up a smile when I get in the passenger seat. "You have somewhere in mind you want to go?"

I shrug, buckling my seatbelt in place. "Somewhere with coffee, if there's anywhere still open. After that, I don't give a fuck."

Blake shrugs, easing out of the parking lot. He drives in silence for a few minutes and I can feel the awkwardness picking at my skin. Like tiny shards of glass, begging me to just talk so this torture can end.

"Be honest, why'd you text me?"

He doesn't take his eyes off the road with the question. I find myself watching him anyway. He looks exhausted. Like he hasn't slept in a while. Dark circles hang under his eyes and his hair's all over the place, eyes bloodshot.

"Cause I thought you'd be awake." I turn to look out the window. The other reason is burning at the back of my tongue. I'm almost scared to speak it out loud. I feel like I'm betraying Danny just thinking it.

I've missed him.

God, it's stupid. He did the unthinkable to Danny. But we've known each other since we were freshman and… I don't know. I miss him. I miss when we were friends.

"Is that it?" Blake asks, like he can hear my thoughts.

I shrug, letting out a breath. "Does it matter?"

He drums his hands against the steering wheel, shrugging one shoulder. "Guess not."

Blake takes us down a couple of back roads to get to McDonalds but it's closed. All the lights are off when he pulls into the parking lot. We're the only car in the lot. Bummer.

"Oh well. You want to get wasted instead?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone when he looks at me.

Being drunk doesn't sound so bad right now. I think I could use the space from my own thoughts. I want to forget the way Dad looked coming out of the hospital. Or the expression on Alex's face when he said he wasn't going to tell me anything about my dad. I want to forget all of it.

"Yeah, sounds like fun."

Blake's eyes widen and his eyebrows creep up on his forehead. "For real?"

I shrug. "Where should we go for the beer?"

He blows out a breath, turning to look out the windshield again. He idles in the parking lot of McDonalds for a minute more. I can practically see his mind working as he stares around the deserted parking lot.

"Why are you doing this?"

I wish he'd stop asking. It's not a big deal. I've already spent the last couple weeks cutting people out of my life. I don't want to add another person to that list.

"Ask me again when we're drunk." I lean over to turn his stereo on.

A smooth eighties track starts playing and Blake looks to the stereo before letting out a quiet breath. He shakes his head a little, pulling his car forward and easing out of the parking lot.

I settle into the easy music, turning my attention on the dark trees and dim-lit buildings that pass us by. Every time I've ever hung out with Blake, I've learned to expect the unexpected. I don't think tonight's gonna be any different.

It's gonna be a breath of fresh air that I desperately need. I'm so fucking tired of things being predictable.


Blake takes us down the same back roads I've driven during my endless, sleepless nights. It's comforting – taking these familiar roads with him. Like all along, we aren't as different as I once thought.

He takes me downtown. Doesn't say where we're going and I don't ask. I just listen to the music playing softly and watch the town pass by out my window.

When he finally rolls his car to a stop, we're in a suburban neighborhood. It looks kind of like my neighborhood – if my neighborhood had money. And expensive cars.

Blake keeps the engine running as he takes off his seatbelt. "Wait here. Shouldn't take long."

He opens the door and shuts it quietly behind him. I guess he's paying attention to the late hour. I watch him from the passenger window as he goes up to one of the houses. There's a white fence running the length of the lawn but Blake lets himself in anyway. I almost expect the fence to squeak but it doesn't.

The song switches to something more upbeat and I decide to save it for our drive out of here. I turn away from the window long enough to shut off the music. When I turn back, someone's standing on the lawn with Blake.

The other person is gesturing, pointing in the direction of Blake's car but Blake doesn't seem phased by it. He's got his hands in his pockets, seeming nonchalant at the whole thing. When he shrugs, the other person seems to give up.

Blake turns around to look at the car, giving me a thumbs up, as the other person goes back inside the house.

I watch in silence for two minutes or so before that person makes another appearance. They're carrying a box and there's handshake exchanged before Blake takes the box.

He starts back to the car and I lean across the center console, opening his door for him.

"Thanks. Just a sec."

The box clinks as he sets it down on the seat. Bottles click together as they settle in the box. I try to guess how much alcohol is there. My best guess is… a lot.

Blake opens the back door and transfers the box there. He shuts the back door again and gets in the driver's seat.

"Alright, now we just gotta go somewhere to get good and drunk," he says, buckling his seatbelt with one hand. "Got any place in mind?"

My first thought is the outlook. But that's me and Danny's place. I don't know if I want someone else there. I don't even know if Danny took him there first. Before me.

"No clue."

"Hmm… there's always the school parking lot. No one's there."

He eases the car forward, driving quietly past the houses with all their lights off. I turn to watch the house he went up to slip past us. I wonder how he knows that person. Or who they hell they even were.

"Hey, who was that?"

Blake makes a U-turn and starts out of the neighborhood again. His eyebrows are drawn down in concentration as he drives.

"You remember Will Taylor, right? He was a senior when we were freshman." He pulls onto a main road now, picking up speed the further away from the neighborhood he gets.

"Kind of." I don't remember him at all but I don't want to sound like an idiot.

Blake uses his turn signal to switch lanes even though no one else is on the road. "Yeah, you do. He threw parties before Dale did." He looks toward me and gets something from my expression. "Okay, he used to shove Nathan into his locker."

"Nathan who?"

"Jesus, Dash." Blake switches lanes again before looking at me. "Nathan Lester – he was in our English class last year. He's in second period Calc with me this semester."

Nathan sounds slightly more familiar to me than Will. Freshman year… did I even bump into the guy?

"Okay." I let out a breath, shrugging when Blake raises an eyebrow. "I don't remember Will. At all."

Blake blows out a breath, shifting his gaze back to the road. He's quiet for a few seconds before recognition crosses his expression. "Okay, I got it." He turns to look at me again. "He used to date one of the older cheerleaders. He's the one who convinced the football team to haze us when we first joined the team. You, me, Dale, and Keith."

"Ugh. Dick."

I remember him now. Guy was a grade A tool for that. I still remember running naked across the field in the dark, trying to find where our teammates hid our clothes. I remember when our older teammates graduated and how fucking glad the four of us were that we'd never see those assholes again.

I mentally go back through the conversation Blake and I were having.

"So, that guy at the house – that was Will?"

Blake nods. "Yup. He scores alcohol for underage kids. Got a pretty sweet deal going for him – totally overcharges on the stuff."

"Hang on. If you don't like him and he overcharges, why are you buying from him?" I ask.

"Where else am I going to get it?"

Huh… good point. Dale and Paulina probably get it from their parents. I wonder where everyone else in high school gets it. Do they all just wait for the next party to crop up so they can get wasted?

Blake turns the music back on, nudging the volume down a little. I feel like I should say something but the words aren't coming to me. And he doesn't seem to need me to say anything.

I turn my gaze out the window, watching the world drift by. I hate this part of being a passenger – sitting back instead of driving. I like being in control of where I go.

Blake hums softly along with the music, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. His gaze is focused on the road but I get the sense that he's miles away from this car ride. There's something in his expression that just seems checked out.

I think this is the first time I've taken a drive with him anywhere. He was the last of us to get his driver's license – probably didn't pass the class the first time around. But his driving is smoother than I thought it'd be, not as crazy as I was expecting.

"So, you wanna tell me why you wanted to come out tonight?" He looks toward me with the question. A faint smile lifts one corner of his lips. "Or am I really gonna have to get some alcohol in you first?"

"Definitely need a drink first." I slouch down further, wondering if I made a mistake texting him. It's not like what happened tonight was even worthy of something like this. I don't know. I just want to get drunk and stop thinking about everything.

Blake makes a soft noise in his throat, nodding as he turns his attention back to the road.

We fall into a silence that's not uncomfortable but still picks at my skin. I feel like we should be talking more – like maybe I should offer up some shred of information for him but it's not coming naturally to me. I've never been the best at sharing my thoughts.

Blake keeps the music playing softly as he takes us to school. And as soon as we're in the parking lot, he kills the engine and nods toward the windshield.

"Come on. Let's sit on the hood."

He doesn't wait for me to respond before he's taking his seatbelt off. I don't really feel like being out in the cold, but I follow him out of the car.

Blake opens the back door and slides the box of alcohol out, closing the car door with his hip. He sets the box on the ground in front of his car and selects two beer bottles, passing one to me when I'm close enough.

I nod toward the box as he opens his beer. "Is there whiskey in there?"

"Yeah but we're starting light." He tilts his beer toward me with a grin. I don't know if he's hoping I'll cheers him but I lean forward and tap my beer against his anyway.

His expression opens up a little at the gesture and a soft smile tugs at his mouth. He nods at the hood of his car, and I slide onto it with him.

I open my beer bottle and we take a drink almost simultaneously. It's not the best taste in the world. It's not exactly disgusting but… I'm not sure I'd drink it for fun.

"Probably be better cold," Blake comments, tipping his bottle up for another drink.

I nod and the two of us fall into silence. I don't feel like saying much and he doesn't offer anything either.

There's a certain bond that forms when you hang out with someone late at night – when the rest of the town is asleep. There's an entirely separate bond from drinking shitty beer together. Just so happens that Blake and I tick both of those bonds tonight.

"Alex and I were fighting earlier," I admit into the silence. I'm not even buzzed yet but I feel the need to say something now that I'm almost half-finished with my beer.

Blake takes another drink before turning to me. There's a hesitation in his expression but he asks anyway. "About what?"

I think he knows on some level. I remember his reaction when he heard I planned on going to see my dad. He's gonna have that same reaction now.

"I… went to see my dad. He was being released from the hospital."

Blake nods slowly, turning his stare back to his beer bottle. He doesn't say anything for a while. I wish he would – I already know what he's thinking. Just get it over with.

"Did that fix whatever inside of yourself that you wanted it to?" he asks.

Something prickles in my chest at his words. What the hell kind of question is that?

I blow out a breath, turning my stare up to the sky. I don't know how to answer his question. I don't even know what it means. It sounds fucking pretentious too – like I'm going to see Dad because I still need something from him.

"The hell does that mean?" I finally ask, erring closer to honesty with the words.

Blake shrugs, lifting his stare as he drinks again. He swallows his sip, his tongue darting out to catch a droplet on his bottom lip. "It means whatever you want it to mean."

What the fuck?

He finally looks at me again and there's something almost unreadable about his expression. Like he's got a wall up – guarding himself from this conversation.

"I don't know what you want to hear," he says, his voice soft on the words.

"I just want to hear what you think."

Blake gives a little half-smile, shaking his head. "You don't want that. Not really." He takes a drink, looking away from me.

"How would you know what I want?" I ask and the words feel harsh coming out of me. I didn't mean them like that – but it's too late to take them back when I see the pinch of his eyebrows coming together.

Blake leans back against the windshield, setting his bottle between us on the hood. "Just guessing here." He rolls his head to look at me, offering up a shrug. "You're right. I don't know what you want."

I feel like he's dancing around this conversation. Like he's holding back because of this weird relationship we have now. Cause I'm dating his ex-boyfriend.

"Just tell me the truth," I urge.

Blake exhales, shifting his gaze to the night sky. "What will that accomplish? Do you honestly think it's going to change how you feel?"

"Maybe."

He shakes his head, folding his arms over his chest as a shiver rocks through him. For a few seconds, I don't think he's gonna give in. But he drops his stare from the sky down to his beer bottle. Like he can't quite meet my gaze yet.

"You already know what I'm thinking."

"Say it."

Blake meets my gaze then, his eyebrows drawing down. Hesitation hangs in the air for a second longer. But he gives me what I asked for.

"You're an idiot. You spent how long fighting to get away from him and for what? So you can go back to him whenever you want to? Does the shit he did to you not matter anymore?"

Fuck, he was right. He's just somebody else that doesn't get it.

I look away from him then, draining another few swallows of my beer. He lets out a quiet breath but I don't look his way. Not even when he leans back against his windshield, his arm brushing by mine with the movement.

"I told you that you didn't want to hear it."

I wanted to hear the truth. I thought if someone other than Alex said it, then I'd have to believe them. But… Blake doesn't get it. No one does.

Blake straightens up, rolling off the hood of his car. "We need tunes."

I hesitate only long enough for him to drag his keys out of his pocket before I get off the hood too. "And I need something stronger than this."

Blake looks my way with the words but doesn't say anything in response. He opens his door and leans halfway inside his car to turn the stereo on.

That smooth '80's playlist starts up again as I crouch in front of the box. I move a few bottles out of the way, in search of something better than that shitty beer.

Blake shimmies his way back up onto the hood as I find a bottle of the good stuff – Johnnie Walker, Black Label.

"Hey, hand me another beer?"

I look up, holding my find out toward him. "You don't want some of this with me?"

He shrugs, flicking his stare to the night sky. "Nah, I like the beer."

"Seriously? I'm pretty sure hand sanitizer has more alcohol content."

Blake snorts but doesn't give in. So I get a beer for him and get back onto the hood with Mr. Walker.

I crack the bottle open and pour out what's left of my shitty beer onto the snow gathered in the parking lot. Blake finishes off the last of his first beer as I carefully pour better alcohol into my bottle.

"So…" Blake's rolling a bottle cap between his fingers when I look his way. He won't look at me as he asks it. "What does Danny think of this? You going to see your dad."

Shit.

I overfill the beer bottle and alcohol sloshes up over my hand, landing on the pavement with a splatter.

"Fuck."

I set the bottle of Johnnie Walker between us on the hood to free up my hand. With nothing else to dry myself off with, I scrub my hand and wrist across my jeans. Fantastic – I can now pass for a brewery in addition to the colossal fuck-up thing I've got going for me.

I lick a few stray droplets off the inside of my wrist before I chance a look toward Blake. He's watching me silently, a curious expression on his face.

"He's the one who drove me there," I say.

Blake meets my gaze then, eyebrows rising on his forehead. "Really?"

I nod, dropping my attention back to my bottle. I carefully tilt the neck of the bottle toward my mouth, until I can slurp up the alcohol that's settled at the very brim.

"Huh… didn't expect him to be on board with this. I thought he was shitting you in the cafeteria the other day."

I shrug, draining a little more alcohol. Silence is quick to settle between us and I wonder what Blake's thinking. I want to ask him why his first reaction is anger – or at least irritation – when hearing that I went to see my dad. But… I think I already know.

I got out. He's still in it.


I don't know how long we sit like that – me draining Johnnie Walker and Blake sipping on glorified rubbing alcohol – but it's nice. The world around us is quiet. And this haze has settled over my mind, taking away everything that seemed so important before.

My legs are tingling from sitting on them too long and my ass has gone completely numb. I need to stretch out, shake off this stationary feeling.

Blake looks to me when I get off his car, leaving the alcohol behind. I do the undignified newborn-colt-dance as I try to find my footing – it's a fucking feat without feeling in your legs and your mind all fuzzy.

"You alright there?" Blake asks with a laugh. I'm sure I look about as stable as I feel.

"Yeah, man. I feel… good."

He slides down further on the hood, amusement clear in his features. "That's the alcohol talking. You're wasted."

I blow out a breath, lifting my stare to the sky. I wanna be wasted every day.

That pressure that's been on my chest since the day Dad was shot is gone. I'm not tired. Not exhausted with the world right now. And I don't feel that pain in my rib or back anymore. It's like it's all been washed away – replaced with this smooth inability to care.

Blake calls my name when I start away from his car. His eyebrows are drawn down when I turn to look at him.

"Where are you going?"

I don't know. I just feel like walking – maybe I could even run. I wonder if my rib would hold up for that long.

"Dash, hey." Blake gets off his car and follows me when I start walking. He catches my arm but I pull it away from him. "Look, just cause no one's here doesn't mean we should be. The parking lot's fine, okay? But we can't – damn it, will you stop?"

I shrug his hand off my shoulder when he tries to slow me down. I don't know where I'm going. And it's fucking exhilarating.

Blake follows me onto the track that runs behind the school – I can remember walking this in freshman year, wondering if I'd be a better fit for the track team instead of football. I love to run, always have.

But this isn't where I belong. And it's not where I want to be right now.

"Are you seriously going to make me climb that?" Blake asks, apparently watching me eye-up the chain-link fence that separates the football field from the track field.

I shrug, pulling on the fence a little, trying to judge the sturdiness of it with just my hands. It doesn't feel like it'll fall under my weight.

"You could always stay here."

I grab hold of the fence and leverage myself up. My fingers are going numb in this cold but I grip onto the fence tighter, hoisting myself up and over.

I land on my feet on the other side of the fence with a dull thud.

Blake gives me a look before sighing. He resigns himself to shimmying over the fence and I offer him my hand when he's halfway over.

He mumbles his thanks and swings his body over, landing next to me on the grass. Or… what would be grass. It's all frozen over now.

"C'mon – let's toss a ball around."

Blake splutters behind me as I start away from the fence, moving further onto the field. It's weird seeing it covered in snow. Especially with the sky being this weird, hazy blue color. Winter skies, man.

"Are you kidding me? First of all, the footballs aren't stored outside. They're in the locker room – you know this," Blake says, scoffing when I don't break stride. "If you're talking about throwing around a snowball-"

"Would that be such a terrible idea?" I ask, turning around to grin at him. "Relax. I know where a football is."

"Oh, that's convenient," he mutters, following after me anyway.

Kwan and I used to meet up here on the weekends. Sometimes in the middle of the night – when I would leave my place just to get away from Dad. Kwan always showed and… we needed a way to make the time pass.

I figured it out end of freshman year – there's a spot underneath the last bleacher, closest to the locker room, that's just big enough to stash something there. A football fits almost perfectly.

Okay… so it's not an actual football. It's one from when Kwan and I did pee-wee together. Still works to throw around so, I can't complain.

"Hey, go long," I say, gesturing to the other side of the field.

Blake lets out a heavy breath, his shoulders dropping a bit. I feel a little bad for dragging him into this but he trudges a few feet away without complaint so I toss him the ball.

He catches it easily and lobs it back to me. "Is there a reason you want to do this?"

"It's just fun." I shrug, tossing the ball back to him. "Why? You don't like playing?"

Blake sighs, catching the ball again. He fidgets with it for a second before tossing it my way again. "I don't know. Football's always been more your thing. Jeff'sthing, too."

"Really?" I catch the ball but hang on to it this time. "You don't like football?"

He shrugs but doesn't offer an explanation. He keeps his stare on the snow and something about his expression is kinda strange. It reminds me of the old Blake. The I-don't-give-a-shit and the go-fuck-yourself Blake.

I cross some of the space between us but he holds his hands out for the ball so I toss it. And then I guess the alcohol gets to my head cause I race across what's left of the distance between us and plow into him with all my strength.

Obviously, we both collapse onto the ground, Blake half under me.

"Wh-What the fuck… dude," he pants, shoving me off of him. He scoffs, shoving me back by my shoulder. "What the fuck was that for?"

I roll over onto my back, the snow freezing through my hoodie. I should have worn something thicker than this. Something that could keep out the cold. I don't know that it'd help though – this cold is coming from me. I think it has been for years.

"I don't know, man," I say, flicking my stare to the sky overhead.

He makes a soft, disapproving noise in his throat but doesn't move. He lies next to me, the two of us staring up at the starless sky, and I wonder what he's thinking. If his mind's running in the same direction mine is. There's been far too little of this. Even he has to know that.

It takes a couple of minutes. But Blake finally turns to look at me. His stare meets mine and then we're just watching each other. Waiting to see who's gonna break the silence first.

"Why'd you call me tonight?" he asks.

His voice is barely above a whisper on the question – betraying how much it's taking him just to voice it out loud. I know that feeling. When you have to know but just the thought of the answer is terrifying. I know it too well. He shouldn't feel that about me. Not about this.

I blow out a breath but don't break our stare. I feel like I have to look him in the eyes as I admit it.

"I miss being friends with you, man."

Blake sighs, looking away from me. His breath hangs in the air just above him, slowly rising higher and higher in the sky. I wish this were simpler. I wish he hadn't done all the shit he had. But Danny's doing better and he even asked me to try with Blake.

"I know… you can't undo what you did." I swallow hard, my throat suddenly like sandpaper now. "But you… this is dumb."

He shakes his head, pressing his lips together in a thin line. But it is dumb. We've known each other for so long and… I don't know. It's not who he is, it's what he did. I don't know how I know that even in my half-drunk state but… I know it. He fucked up but he's not a fuck-up.

"You can't do anything to make up for it. I know that, I'm not an… an idiot," I say slowly, the alcohol muddying my brain. I hesitate for only a second longer before I repeat the words, softer this time. "I miss being friends with you. I miss… hanging with you, man. I mean it."

He looks to me then. Holds my stare again. And I don't think that shimmer in his eyes is a trick of the light.

"What about Danny?" he whispers.

"He's fine with this." I gesture in a half-assed circle. "All of this. He doesn't… give a shit. He knows you're not… you. Or shit, he knows the you that used to be… or maybe the you that you were… ah, I mean-"

Blake lets out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. And I'm too drunk to string my words into any sense of coherence anymore.

"You sure about that?" he asks, a smile picking at his expression now.

I nod, closing my eyes as I stretch my arms over my head. "Yup. He's cool with this. We're all cool with it, I don't even… s'not like you'll… do it again. I'd hafta… kick your ass."

Blake laughs then, sitting up next to me when I crack an eye open. He dusts snow from his back, reaching up as high as he can to knock off the majority of it.

"You're completely wasted, dude. Let me take you home," he says, standing from the grass. He dusts off the front of his jacket before extending a hand down to help me up.

I give some kind of embarrassing whine noise before grabbing the ball from where it's rolled away from us a little.

"We gotta… put this back," I mumble, holding it out toward him. Though… it's starting to look more like there are two of him. And the bleachers are spinning a little. Oh shit, I've been here before.

Blake takes the football from me and I guess he can tell I'm spinning. "Alright. Why don't you sit here and catch your breath? I'll go put this back."

He waits for my nod before he starts for the bleachers again. My head is pounding now, thoughts barely making sense. I don't think Johnnie Walker's my friend anymore.

I watch Blake coming back toward me, but there's actually two of him now. And the bleachers behind him have started to spin.

"You ready to go?" he asks as he comes to a stop in front of me.

I squint against him, like he's standing in the sun, and try to stand up. Which just makes the whole world around me spin and I pitch forward.

"Whoa, easy dude."

Blake catches me before I faceplant in the snow. He slides one of his arms under mine and stabilizes me. He slings one of my arms around his neck and wraps his other arm around my back, keeping me upright.

"You think you can walk back to the parking lot?" he asks.

I try to nod but that only makes the world spin even more. I keep my gaze low but trudge forward with him.

"What about… the fence?"

Blake stops. "Fuck. Forgot about that."

He's quiet for a second, just holding me upright, before he gets an idea. "We'll have to pick the lock. Do you have anything I can use? A bobby pin or something like that?"

"You… regularly pick… locks, huh?" I ask, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other.

"Not important. What do you have on you?"

"Just my phone and keys," I mumble.

He's quiet for a second, helping me over to the fence, and eases me into a sitting position. "I might be able to use your keys. You stay here. Give me your keys, mine are back in my car."

I dig them out of my pocket and hold them out toward him. I assume it's toward him anyway – I can't lift my gaze much higher than the ground cause the world starts to spin and everything splits into two. Damn. It's been a long time since I've gotten this wasted.

Blake leaves me sitting there and goes over to the lock. I hear him wrestling with it and the sound of metal scraping metal is eerie in the quiet of this snowy field.

I lean my head back against the fence and I feel it catch in my hair. Man, tonight spiraled out of control so fast. I didn't plan on getting this wasted. Or fuck – I texted Blake. Maybe subconsciously I was looking to get this drunk.

"Come on, I got it open." Blake holds out his hand toward me when I look up. There's still two of him.

I take his hand and he helps me onto my feet again. We resume our staggering over to the fence, and once we're on the other side, he only pauses long enough to swing the gate shut again.

We get halfway across the track when Blake speaks.

"So listen… I accidentally broke one of your keys."

I nearly slip on the ice, but Blake keeps me upright. He tightens his arm around my back, planting his feet either side of me.

"Ah… which… which key?" I ask.

He adjusts his hold on me, making sure we're both steady before he starts forward again. "I don't know which one it was. You can figure it out when we get to my car."

It's a slow walk to the parking lot. But he gets me there and deposits me in the passenger seat of hiscar. He hands my keys over and closes the door.

I watch him gather the alcohol we left strewn about in front of his car. He stoops to inspect something in the box and I drop my gaze to the keys in my lap. The one for Ryder is perfectly fine, but I can't say the same for Kendra's key. Damn – no chance of sneaking back into the apartment now.

Blake opens the back door and stashes the alcohol there. I wait until he's in the driver's seat to say it.

"So, bad news. You broke the apartment key."

His brow furrows. "What apartment… oh. Alex's place?"

I nod.

"Fuck. I'm sorry." He turns the engine on and gets the heat running.

Alex won't be upset about being woken up – it's the whole "coming home drunk" part I'm worried about. We just patched up our earlier argument about me smoking and now… this? He's not gonna like it.

I don't say any of that to Blake as he backs out of the parking lot. I just rest my head against the cold window and try to will this dizziness away.


I drift off somewhere along the way to the apartment, but I wake up when Blake cuts the engine off. He looks to me when I sit up in the passenger seat. A frown creases his features when I meet his gaze.

"Sorry I broke your apartment key."

I unbuckle my seatbelt. "It's cool. I just wish I didn't have to wake them up."

"Do you need help getting to the door?"

I don't trust the unsteadiness in my legs, but I shake my head anyway, and open the passenger door. I nearly tumble out onto the pavement, but I catch myself on the inside of the door.

Blake swears softly under his breath before opening the driver's side door. I hear his door shut and his footsteps as he moves in front of the car and over to me.

He loops my arm around my back. "I don't remember you being such a lightweight."

"Me neither." I keep my arm around him and shut the door with my foot.

"If you fall, I'm not paying for your reconstructive surgery." He snorts when I laugh. "Seriously. You gotta pull your weight here, dude."

We nearly slip on a patch of ice near the bottom of the stairs, but he catches the railing with one hand, tightening his hold on me with his other arm.

"Jesus. If you make me fall and hurt myself, I'm suing you."

I roll my eyes, clutching the other railing with one of my hands. "Shut up. The sooner you help me up here, the sooner you can pass out for a few hours."

He tsks softly but doesn't respond until we're up a few stairs.

"I don't really see sleep happening for me tonight."

I look to him at that, but he doesn't offer up an explanation. I'm almost drunk enough to ask but… I can't bring myself to.

"Alright, this is you, right?" he asks, freeing up one hand to knock on the door when I nod.

Silence is all we're greeted with for several minutes. I try knocking this time, rapping a little louder than Blake did.

I hear movement on the other side of the door and try to steady myself as best as I can. With any luck, it'll be Kendra on the other side.

The door opens, and I get a glimpse of what luck thinks of me.

"Dash?" Alex looks between me and Blake, blinking sleepily as he looks between the two of us, trying to figure out what's going on.

I try to step inside but my footings still shaky. And I'm seeing two doorframes so… there's that.

Alex catches me when I nearly slip, Blake still holding his arm around my side.

"Careful. Are you okay?" Alex asks, looking past me at Blake again. "What the hell happened to him?"

"Nothing. He's just a little… tipsy."

Alex gives me a look, taking my other side. Blake shuts the door behind us, and the two of them help me over to the couch. Alex watches me for a few seconds, finally letting out a quiet tsk.

"You're not tipsy – you're wasted."

I give him a peace sign that he just draws his eyebrows down at. Oh, well. It's not like I can take back this whole getting drunk thing.

"Lie down," Alex instructs, kneeling in front of me to take my shoes off.

Once they're off my feet and lined up neatly at the end of the couch, he stands up again. "Raise your arms," he instructs, sliding my hoodie off when I do. "What the hell did you do – bathe in mud?"

"It was snow," Blake says, nodding toward me when Alex turns to look at him. "He was just a little unsteady on his feet and he slipped and fell in it."

Alex lets out a breath. "I'm sorry, but I have no idea who the hell you are."

Blake snaps to attention, his gaze shifting from me as he extends his hand to Alex. "Sorry, I'm Blake, sir. I'm one of Dash's teammates."

Alex looks down at the hand offered to him before completely ignoring it. "Right… and how did this exactly happen?"

"Well…um…" Blake pulls his hand back and awkwardly palms the back of his neck, darting a glance to me. "We were just hanging out."

"You always "hang out" with alcohol?" Alex asks, his voice stern. I can't see his expression but I'm guessing he's pretty pissed. And for once… it doesn't matter to me. Thank you, Johnnie Walker.

Blake keeps looking between us, like he's trying to figure out how much he can tell Alex. I don't care what he says – but I care about passing out for a few hours. Before the sun's fully up and my body rejects anything close to rest.

"Aleeeeex," I whine his name, rolling over on the couch to face him. "I'm coooold."

He hesitates for a moment before moving over to me. He takes his own hoodie off and drops it on top of my covers. "Here. I'll put something else on."

I tug his hoodie on and collapse back against my pillows again. My head is starting to ache, and I can already taste the aspirin I'll take tomorrow. But that's a problem to face when I open my eyes again.

My mind desperately tries to stay in the present, grabbing snatches of Alex and Blake's conversation, but my body wins the fight. And I pass out with my hands tucked under my cheek, the smell of Alex drifting from his hoodie. My last fleeting thought is that it smells like home.


A/N:

Holy hell guys. I did it. I've returned.

So. First things first – I never intended to take a break this long from updating this fic. If you follow me on tumblr you might know a little more about this but TL;DR: life stuff, busy season, writing mojo went out the window etc.

Also Happy Halloween - the spooky season is best celebrated with some teenage angst lmao

Now that that's out of the way, how about this chapter, huh? Honestly it feels short to me but my word counter tells me it's 24k sooo… I guess that's good for an update

I'm dying to know what you think of everything – from Dash seeing his dad in the hospital parking lot to Alex storming out in the middle of dinner to Dash's drunken escapades with Blake. According to my writing program, I created this chapter December 2018 so obviously I've been waiting a really long time to get this one to you guys and get your thoughts on it lmao. So any and all thoughts are welcome, as always

This is a rare chapter as the entire thing is told through the course of one day. Technically, it's after midnight when Dash goes out with Blake but it's still one day for Dash cause who needs sleep am I right lmao

The title of this chapter comes from One Day At A Time by Sam Smith. This is another weird anomaly for me as I pretty much knew the title of this chapter when I started it. I knew the ending with Blake (though part of it was a surprise even to me) and the awkward dinner with the Moreno's and… I don't know. This lyric just seemed to fit perfectly.

In the next update you can expect a hangover to end all hangovers, honesty above all else, a sexy moment between our beloved quarterback and his ridiculously adorable boyfriend, the winter formal, and rampant homophobia. It's a beast of a chapter and I can't wait to deliver it to you guys. My goal is by Christmas but I'll update you all over on my tumblr if that changes

I know I say this every chapter but thanks for believing in this story. Thanks for sticking with it even when it takes me almost a year to update. I'm so glad that people love these two as much as I do – cause this story is so important to me and I can't wait to bring the ending it deserves to you all. Thanks for everything, you have no idea how much your kind words mean to me

See you next update!