The next few days after the run in at the hospital were…rough, to say the least. Somehow, they always managed stumble upon Stacy and Schuyler together (they didn't realize this was exactly Schuyler's intention), no matter where they went; Langston wasn't certain how she and Cole had managed not to murder the duo everytime they saw that heartbroken, crushed look in Starr's eyes when she saw them together.
At school, Starr was unknowingly playing right into Schuyler's plan, reacting exactly the way he'd hoped she would after seeing him with Stacy; she treated him like nothing but a teacher, put on a brave face and gathered everything she had in her to put on a show of being together and composed, and never acknowledged him anymore. Starr believed it was what he wanted, of course, but truth was, Schuyler was slowly dying thanks to their separation, just like her. Truth be told, even though he'd been the one to make things this way, Starr's lack of acknowledgment towards him cut Schuyler deeply. It felt like having déjà vu sometimes, like he was reliving that horrible day after Cole snapped and threw his books at her, when Starr came to his class, bruised and broken, and he couldn't offer a word of comfort or protection, because he had to be nothing but her teacher- and that's all he was now. It was like they had never happened, and it absolutely terrified Schuyler; if it weren't for how vividly he could still recall her touch, her kiss, for the fact that her shirt was still balled up on the corner of his floor (the way he'd been avoiding acknowledging it, you'd think the shirt burned if touched or something), he might have to ask her if it all had been some delirious dream he'd had.
Away from Schuyler himself, Starr was a different story. After an intense crying fit the first day, Starr had swallowed the pain, and more or less seemed like a zombie now; she just went through the motions, and wasn't so much living as merely surviving. It was the best she could do, and even just getting out of bed in the morning and facing the guy she was so still so helplessly in love with at school took all the strength she had. Even Blair, who had been so distracted by John and Marty being on the run, couldn't miss the numb, broken look in her daughter's eyes. Starr tried to keep up appearances, and usually managed to make it through the day, but you never knew when some little comment, such as Blair asking her where she'd learned to cook when Starr impulsively made dinner for everyone, was going to completely set her off.
It worried Langston to see how Starr was sleepwalking through her life. Pretty much the only time she ever showed any genuine emotion was when she was scribbling in that long letter of hers to Schuyler; Langston really wished Starr would eventually send it, but apparently, she had no intention of it. Starr had explained that it was some therapeutic technique, to write out your feelings to someone in a letter that you would never send, since the fact that nobody would ever read it but you made you really pour your heart out. (Ironically, Schuyler had been the one to tell her about this little practice). Starr had written just a little note to Schuyler the first time a particularly powerful wave of missing him had hit, but it had been the only thing since he'd dumped her to make her feel the slightest bit better, and it become a habit, until the letter grew to multiple pages in length. Now, whenever Starr had a particularly strong emotion towards him- anger, heartbreak, longing, whatever- she pulled out the letter and just wrote from the soul until she managed to swallow the emotion and put her mask back on.
Right now, Starr was curled up in the fetal position on her bed, covers pulled over her head as she just tried to block out reality; that stupid paper she'd had an extension on was due today, which meant her usual method for dealing with Schuyler's class- keeping her eyes on the floor and focusing her attention only on the technical side of his words, ignoring what the sound of his voice always did to her- wasn't going to work. She was going to have to actually interact with him, talk to him, look at him, and she had no idea how she was even going to survive this.
"Starr?"
Starr sighed as she heard Langston's cautious voice as her friend entered the room; she hated how everyone in this house walked on eggshells around her, like they were afraid she was going to fling herself out a window or something at any possible moment. Even her mom, who had more than enough to worry about and barely understood the current situation, was constantly hovering and practically removing all sharp objects from any room Starr was in.
"Yeah, Lang?" she asked flatly, tossing the covers off. Langston glanced at her in surprise when she saw that Starr was dressed and ready; she hadn't been sleeping in, just hiding out.
"Just wanted to ask if you're ready for school."
"As much as I'm ever going to be," Starr replied miserably, rolling out of bed and grabbing her backpack. She looked up and almost gave something close to a smile at the pure sympathy and concern in Langston's eyes; maybe she couldn't hold on to Schuyler, but at least she was lucky enough to still have the awesome best friend that she didn't deserve. "You know, some people would use this as an opportunity to point out they were right about why it was crazy for their friend to ever think she could date a teacher."
"Some people would be bitches, then," Langston replied simply, smiling slightly as she slung an arm around her friend's shoulders. Starr managed the most miniscule of smiles, and the two girls left, Langston practically having to drag Starr to get her out the door.
*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~
"Starr, you're gonna be okay, right?" Langston asked worriedly at the end of the day, watching Starr pace around near Schuyler's classroom, practically hyperventilating into her hands just at the prospect of having to talk to him. Yet again, Langston was amazed she'd ever thought this was a minor crush or passing phase on Starr's part.
"Yeah," Starr replied, though the answer was ruined by the fact that it came out squeaky and frantic. "Nobody ever dies from a broken heart, so physically, I'll be fine."
"Uh, good to know, but I didn't really mean physically."
"Well, we both already know I haven't been okay emotionally for a while, that's not gonna change now," Starr muttered darkly.
Langston bit her lip hesitantly, debating with herself over whether or not she should try to convince Starr yet again that Schuyler really did love her; she personally wasn't falling for this act one bit, she still believed Schuyler was trying to be some dumbass martyr for Starr's sake, but after what she'd overheard at the hospital, after seeing him with Stacy, Starr refused to believe it.
"I can do this," Starr sighed, raking her fingers through her hair and rubbing her temple. "I told myself it would be okay for me to get involved with Schuyler as long as I didn't let it affect us at school, so I just won't let it. It's just another class, he's just another teacher," she muttered to herself.
It didn't do much to encourage her, but she decided to simply pretend it had, and steeled herself as she walked into the classroom, quickly taking her seat and keeping her head down as she did every day, not allowing herself so much as a glimpse at Schuyler. Every single time she looked at him, it felt like her heart was being torn into even smaller pieces and so she avoided it as much as possible.
The rest of the class filed in soon after, and Starr was vaguely aware of Schuyler announcing a pop quiz; somehow, Starr remained oblivious to how numb and cold Schuyler's voice was, or the fact that it had been that way ever since the break up. Even though everyone else had noticed it, he sounded just fine to Starr, her judgment of the situation was that poor.
Schuyler grabbed the stack of tests and walked down the aisles, passing them out; Starr took a deep breath, preparing herself as he came closer to her; she didn't need to look up to know when he was approaching, she could just feel it, in her spine, her gut, as always.
Starr's breath caught in her throat for a moment when he finally got to her, wordlessly placing the test on her desk without so much as a glance, and she nearly froze up, but quickly forced herself to hold up her paper.
"I, um, finally finished that assignment," she managed roughly, keeping her eyes downcast.
"Thank you," he replied simply. Starr screwed her eyes shut. "I'll grade this right now."
He took the paper from her hand, both taking great care to make sure their fingers did not touch in the process, and walked away without another word; Starr slowly exhaled, her shoulders shaking. That hadn't been so awful. Well, okay, yes it had, but it was manageable, survivable.
Without allowing herself another thought about it, Starr quickly began the test, focusing all of her attention on it; she'd been kind of out of it lately with all the drama in her life, and hadn't excelled on her most recent assignments, so she couldn't afford to screw this up.
When Starr had finished her test, before she moved on to double checking her work, her eyes automatically drifted up and over to Schuyler before she could stop herself, and Starr swallowed nervously when she saw that he was frowning, his brow furrowed, as he circled something on her paper with a red pen. Oh, crap. Well, couldn't focus on that now.
That sight of him with her paper had left her worried, so Starr proceeded to check her work not once, not twice, but three times before the bell rang, and she sighed in relief, positive she'd aced this; at least one thing was going right for her.
They all passed their papers up front, and Starr was about to bolt from the classroom as quickly as usually, when a voice suddenly stopped her in her tracks.
"Miss. Manning?"
Starr glanced up in shock; Schuyler usually avoided interaction with her just as much as she did him, though she didn't know what the hell his problem was. He'd been the one to dump her, abandon her, make a mockery of what they'd been, go running back to the girl he really loved and rub it in Starr's face that she'd only been a poor placeholder for Stacy. He shouldn't have any problem facing her the way she did him.
"Yes?" she asked roughly, struggling to breathe as she forced herself to look him in the eyes. Oh, God, there went that knife through her heart.
"I need you to stick around for a moment; we need to discuss your paper."
Starr felt a rush of dread; just saying six words to him in class hurt, how the hell was she going to manage to be alone with him?
"Want me to fake sick?" Langston hissed from behind her; way she saw it, she could totally get Starr out of this if she pulled off a convincing fainting spell and distracted everyone.
"Okay, Mr. J," Starr choked out, effectively answering Langston's question. Langston and Markko exchanged an intensely concerned glanced behind their friend's back; Starr already looked like she was about to burst into tears.
"We'll wait for you right outside," Markko offered.
Starr took a deep breath, and flashed her friends a painfully fake looking smile, shaking her head. Was she seriously so pathetic that even Markko felt the need to babysit her now? No wonder Schuyler found her so needy, she obviously was and had just never realized it.
"I'd rather you not," she admitted quietly, quickly whispering to them as the rest of the class left. "I think I'd prefer to be alone. You guys should just go do something, by yourselves, okay? You've been so busy Starr sitting that you haven't been able to actually act like a couple in days; I'm a big girl, it'll be fine."
"Well…if you're sure," Langston agreed reluctantly.
"Yes, go!" she encouraged. No seventeen year old should make her friends feel like they needed to hover like this- what was wrong with her?
The duo left, and Starr willed herself to be strong, squaring her shoulders as she turned and walked through the now empty classroom to Schuyler's desk, where he was waiting for her. Starr realized with a pang as she glanced around that this entire room just made her sad; too many memories of baring her soul to Schuyler here, remembering all those talks that had meant everything to her, and apparently, nothing real to him.
"Was there a problem?" she asked him nervously.
Schuyler was silent for a moment, just gazing at Starr; she was keeping her focus on the desk and didn't notice the look of longing he fixed her with for a moment as his heart ached for her so fiercely that it caused him physical pain.
"You might say that," he finally answered, struggling to maintain his unfeeling demeanor.
Schuyler slid the paper across the desk to her, and Starr flinched at the 'C-' on the page. Yep, definitely not good.
"Not up to your usual standards."
"Nope," she agreed simply, tapping her fingers on the table in discomfort. "Not really."
There was a tense silence, as Starr offered nothing further, and finally, Schuyler sighed. He really, really didn't want to go here, but he had promised himself when he'd given into his feelings for Starr that he would remain professional (as much as possible, considering what he was already doing), that his love for her would never be a factor in the classroom, and he had to remain true to that; he had to talk to her about this like he would any other student who was dealing with an obvious distraction, even if it killed him to do it.
"Starr, listen, I'm very sorry about what happened with us, I am, but you can't…you can't let me, us, interfere with your work. You have to get past that and move forward."
Starr's head instantly shot up, and she gazed at Schuyler in disbelief, her eyes slowly narrowing. What had he just said to her? How dare he?
Starr quickly felt her misery and heartbreak melting away, giving way to pure, hot, uncontrollable anger instead. He misinterpreted his feelings for her, used her for weeks on end while secretly wanting Stacy, tossed her out without a second thought, and now he was sitting here, giving some patronizing little speech about how her feelings for him shouldn't affect her grades? While he was off,happy as could be with Stacy, he thought about how she must be pining for him? When he was lying with Stacy at night (Starr's stomach twisted; the thought of Stacy in her spot made her feel sick), he gave a thought to her crying herself to sleep over him or something, allowed himself a brief moment of pity for the girl he'd destroyed? In that one instant, everything changed; Starr was no longer crushed over Schuyler- she was absolutely furious with him, for everything he had done to her, and this moment was the last straw.
"Don't flatter yourself!" she exploded, to her own surprise, jumping to her feet and towering over the desk as she fumed, all her emotional pain boiling over into rage. "The world does not revolve around you, Mr. Joplin, I'm over my little crush- you, us, are not interfering in my life in any way. My stepdad is on the run from the cops after being falsely accused of murder, my mom's a mess, we have no guarantee that the real killer won't go after her or someone else in the house again, and, oh yeah, I was held at gunpoint by a psycho not that long ago; I have a lot of things on my mind that are interfering with my grades, I admit it, but you don't happen to be one of them," she hissed. Schuyler appeared stunned by her reaction, his face quickly falling.
"You haven't been on my mind at all, to be honest. I guess you haven't heard; you have no reason to be sorry about what you did, because you were doing me a favor- I'm back together with Cole now." Whoa, what? Some tiny part of her wondered what the hell she was doing, but the anger was too overwhelming to stop or give this any real thought. "And I am very happy with him, just like you are with Stacy, and I'm certainly not missing you, just like you're not missing me. You and everyone else were right, I just needed some distance to see that; you were a phase, you were someone I turned to and got in too deep with when I just needed someone- it could have been anyone." Starr missed the flicker of agonized pain in Schuyler's eyes, the moment of complete and utter heartbreak. "The only thing about us that's bothering me anymore is the fact that I wasted my time with you when I could have been with Cole. You don't want me, and…" Starr gave only the briefest of hesitations before pressing on, and telling the biggest lie of her life. "And I don't want you. It's in the past as far as I'm concerned. Now, I'll try not to let those other factors bring the quality of my work down from now on, I'll do better- thanks for your concern," she spat darkly, spinning on her heel and stomping away. "Have a good night, Mr. Joplin."
Starr quickly stormed away, finding a deserted hallway, and just paced as she struggled to control her breathing, her body literally shaking from the anger still inside of her- the anger that was only temporarily covering the true pain. She'd said all of that because she wanted to hurt him, even a fraction as much as he'd hurt her, but really, who was she kidding? That wouldn't hurt him in the slightest- Schuyler didn't care, when would she get that through her head? Hell, he was probably thrilled to think she was back together with Cole since it'd get her off his back. Now he could just be happy with Stacy without any guilt over the girl he'd left behind. Oh, God, what Starr had said to Langston before the disaster at Schuyler's place was exactly right; many years from now, she was going to be the nameless girl, the unimportant little roadblock on Stacy and Schuyler's path to each other that got mentioned for two seconds when their kids asked how they'd fallen in love. She could just hear it now: 'And your father went so crazy from missing me that he transferred his feelings to some student in his class- what was her name, Schuy? Rain, Cloud, something like that- and actually convinced himself he was in love with her! It's okay, he came to his senses soon enough.'
Starr kicked the nearest locker in frustration, then sank to the ground with a weary sigh, digging her nails into her palms as tears stung her eyes; was it possible to hate someone so much that you never wanted to see them again and love them so much that there was literally nothing you wouldn't do to be with them, all at once? Because that was how she felt right now. Starr desperately fought the tears, allowing them to blur her vision, but finally had to blink and they went spilling over; Starr quickly brushed them away, fighting to compose herself. What if Schuyler saw her like this, and instantly realized she'd lied? He was going to think she was even more pathetic than he already did.
Starr continued to sit on the ground in silence, her energy completely and utterly drained. Something about this moment felt oddly familiar to her, and she struggled to figure out why, until it finally hit her minutes later; this was too similar to the night of that stupid spring dance, when she'd been out in the hall and Schuyler had left his chaperoning position to make sure she was okay, talk to her, stay with her, and for the first time, Starr had allowed herself to hope that he might see her as more than a student.
That memory was too much; Starr jumped to her feet with a strangled noise of pain and quickly walked away, desperately wishing she hadn't sent Markko and Langston away; she could really use her friends now, she needed them- she just needed someone, period.
Starr reflexively grabbed her locket, taking a shuddering breath, and it suddenly hit her- Cole. Cole was someone who understood the situation, that she could be honest with; Cole would be there for her, she knew that much. Hopefully, she could still catch him after his last class.
Thankful she still had his schedule memorized, Starr quickly ran to the right classroom, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw him milling around in the hall, talking to a couple of guys she didn't know.
"Cole," she called out, flinching when her voice trembled.
He turned, and instantly, his face fell in concern. He immediately said goodbye to the guys he was with and quickly came to her, furrowing his brow.
"Starr? Hey, what's up, what's wrong?"
"I just…I don't know, I just needed to see someone," she said weakly, rubbing her eyes. Cole quickly steered her around the corner so they were alone, his hands warm and gentle on her shoulders.
"You wanna talk about it?"
Starr simply shook her head, biting her lip. Cole was hesitant for a moment, not sure what she wanted or needed, and then finally, just wordlessly opened his arms. Starr gratefully sank into his embrace, and Cole just hugged her tight, rubbing soothing circles on her back.
Starr sighed against his shoulder; here Cole was, being great to her, even after she had chosen Schuyler, and what had she just done? Lied about their relationship for Schuyler's sake; she still couldn't believe she'd said she was with Cole.
As Cole continued to hold her, Starr felt an idea slowly brewing in the back of her mind. Really, though…would it be the worst thing if she were to make that the truth? Maybe everything that had happened recently- finding out Hope was alive, the prom, Cole being the one to return her locker, the mess with Schuyler- were signs. Maybe Langston had been right all along- maybe she and Cole were just meant for each other and she should stop fighting it.
Would it be so bad if that were the case? Cole made his mistakes, sure, but for better or worse, she always seemed to be the first thing on his mind. Cole always wanted her, she was secure in that, and with the exception of her time spent with Schuyler ( "You make me sick" rang in her head, causing to Starr to flinch for a moment), he thought the world of her, much more than she deserved. She never had to worry about him not wanting her anymore.
"Better?" Cole asked, having noticed that her shaking stopped and her breathing calmed.
Cole pulled back, and smiled at her reassuringly. Starr gazed at him contemplatively for a moment, and then suddenly moved forward and kissed him.
However, much to Starr's surprise, her lips had only been on his for a moment, when Cole roughly grabbed her shoulders and firmly pushed her away, his eyes hard.
"No, Starr, we're not doing this, hell no," he abruptly snapped, looking, once again to her surprise, more than just a little angry with her.
"Cole," she began slowly, in true confusion. She would have thought he'd be happy about this. "I don't understand, what-"
"Starr, I didn't give up on the idea of us and walk away despite the fact that it was killing me, decide with myself I was gonna let you go so you could be happy with the guy you chose, just so you could come running back and use me when the guy acted like a dick. I'm not interested in that, sorry to disappoint you," he snapped, averting his gaze, as if he couldn't stand to look at her after what she'd just tried.
Starr stared at him in a stunned silence for a moment, and then slowly crumpled, her eyes darkening with embarrassment and shame as she realized he was exactly right- she had just attempted to use her friend, and for what? Revenge? Schuyler couldn't care less what she was up to or who she was kissing, she had literally just admitted that to herself. To make herself feel better, less lonely, wanted? Well, God, no wonder Schuyler didn't want her if that was the kind of person she was. She had treated Cole, after all he'd done for her, as something to be used for her own gain, with no thought to him. Could she be more of a bitch? Could she be more of a mess?
"Oh, God, I'm sorry, Cole," Starr said weakly, knowing that wasn't enough. "I didn't-"
"Whatever, Starr, it's fine."
"No, it's not! I'm so-"
"Starr, seriously, chill. For what it's worth, I blame him, not you," Cole attempted to joke. Starr winced, and Cole sighed. "Sorry. Starr, I'm…look, I'm sorry, I want to help, but I think I should go," he muttered. "It's selfish, but I don't think I can be the person you go crying to over him, that's a little more than I can handle. You should call Langston, though, okay?" he said softly, his voice still concerned.
Starr just nodded half-heartedly, silenced by her guilt. Cole cautiously cupped her cheek, gently brushing at the pooled up tears under her eye with his thumb, then let go and turned to leave after one more smile, leaving Starr alone- the last thing she wanted right now.
*~*~**~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Many hours afterwards, late that night, Starr pulled up to Rodi's and hopped out of her car, hoping she might find Jessica here; she knew she liked to visit Brody during his shifts here sometime. She hadn't been able to take just sitting in silence in her room, relieving the awful moments of this day over and over again, but her mom was so worried about the mess with John and Marty that she didn't want to bother her, and Langston was spending the night with Lola until Markko got off work, so she'd decided Jessica was the next best person to turn to. Jessica understood matters of the heart, and she never judged.
Starr walked inside and immediately scanned the room for either Jessica or Brody, but saw neither of them anywhere, much to her frustration. However, she did spot Gigi; Gigi had been the one to tell Schuyler about the plot Stacy had tried to pull off with Shane, and he'd become friends with her and Rex afterwards; Starr now knew the two of them fairly well thanks to a few close calls, running into each other at the ASM.
"Hi, Gigi," she greeted her with a small smile; Gigi, who had been gazing off at something with a furrowed brow, startled, then quickly flashed a smile of her own. "How's Shane?"
"Hey, Starr! Shane's great, thanks for asking. What are you doing here?" she asked, her motherly instincts creeping up and creating a note of concern in her voice. "Do you need something?"
"I was just wondering if you've by any chance seen Jessica?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, Starr, she left about half an hour ago with Brody when he got off," Gigi answered, her eyes flickering to the side, where she'd been gazing before. Starr frowned curiously. "Anything I can help with?"
"I just needed to talk to Jessica about something, but, it's not important," she sighed. "I should probably just go. Thanks, though."
"Of course. I hope everything's alright, Starr."
Starr just nodded and turned to leave, but Gigi suddenly took a step towards her, nervously calling her name to stop her.
"Yeah?"
"You, um…you're pretty close to your teacher, Schuyler Joplin, right? You two seem like…friends." Starr's lips twitched for a second, and she smiled sadly, just shrugging.
"Sure," she replied lifelessly. "We're friends."
"Okay, uh, oh boy…I probably shouldn't be involving his student in this, but, too late," she muttered before continuing. "Schuyler is a recovering addict, right? I think he mentioned that to Rex when he offered him a drink once." Starr frowned deeper and nodded. "I thought so; oh, damn it, that's why he should not be here, I should have told them not to serve him," Gigi groaned, shaking her head. Starr's heart froze as it dropped to her feet.
"Wait, what? Schuyler's here?" she gasped, realizing that must have been what Gigi was staring at.
"Uh, yeah, and…he looks pretty bad, Starr," she admittedly worriedly. "He seriously should not be here, but I don't know what to do, and I just thought-"
"Where is he?" Starr asked hotly. Gigi looked startled, but simply pointed him out. Starr turned, and shook her head in disbelief when she saw Schuyler slumped over the bar, nursing a glass of some brown liquid, a couple of shots of something clear next to it. "Thanks for telling me, Gigi, I'll handle it," she immediately replied without thinking, storming away. Gigi watched her hesitantly for a moment, and decided she should just let it go- this was none of her business.
"Schuyler," Starr snapped as she reached his side, wrinkling her nose; oh, gross, he reeked of alcohol.
Schuyler glanced up at the sound of her voice, his eyes glassy and bleary, and slowly broke into a smile; it wasn't the warm smile of his she usually got in greeting, but something different, one she'd never seen before. She shifted in sudden discomfort.
"Starr," he greeted her happily, sounding way too giddy, before his shoulders suddenly sank. "No, you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be here; what are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here, Schuyler?!" Starr demanded, regaining her senses and anger. "You shouldn't be here. What, did you just forget that you're a recovering addict? Granted, for drugs, and I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure this is considered a big no-no too. What the hell is wrong with you?" she thundered, beyond furious with him.
Why would Schuyler do this? She was so proud of his strength, how far he'd come; why was he all of the sudden backtracking like this? She gazed at him expectantly, her eyes burning, and even under the grip of inebriation, Schuyler at least had the decency to look shamed. The look faded a second later, though, and he just casually smirked and shrugged.
"Who cares, right?"
"Excuse me?" she asked tightly, sliding onto the stool next to him; she didn't care how much he didn't want her around, she wasn't going to run off and let him ruin everything he'd worked for like this.
"No, I mean, seriously, Starr…" his voice was high and strained, and he went quiet for a moment, looking confused, like he temporarily forgot where he was and what he was talking about, before continuing. "Like, think about it. I did this…" he meant to gesture towards himself, but ended up just wildly gesturing around the room. "This whole, all well adjusted and put together Mr. Joplin thing was because of my mom, and what did she do in return? She went and offed herself before I could even apologize for all the shit I did," Schuyler spat, his voice angrier than she'd ever heard it, as he clutched the edge of the bar until his fingers were white. "I mean, sure, I didn't exactly give her much to live for, but I didn't think she had nothing. She didn't even try. That's what she would constantly beg me to do- 'You can do it, Schuyler, you're strong enough to beat this, just try'-" he imitated her voice, sneering. "But she didn't, so screw it, why should I?"
Starr inhaled sharply; Leah had only done that because of what Starr and her insanely screwed up family had done to her, so why couldn't Schuyler see that all of this anger belonged directed at her? Starr desperately wished he would instead of blaming Leah for what Todd had pushed her to, and himself for not being a better son.
"Schuyler, that's not true, she didn't feel that way, like you didn't give her enough to live for," Starr said softly, her voice intense with sympathy. She reflexively reached out to touch him before quickly yanking her arm back. "She loved you more than anything."
"Oh, I'm sorry, were you there? Did she tell you how she felt?" he asked petulantly, absent mindedly tearing up a napkin. Starr sighed.
"No, but Schuy, I just know that she-"
"So, what'msayin'," he ignored her, words starting to slur slightly. "Is that she's not here, the only person who really cared is long gone, so why the hell shouldn't I be here? I like it here, I belong here."
"No you don't, Schuyler!" she replied heatedly, gripping his arm tightly before she could stop herself. "Oh my God, what's wrong with you, why would you even say that? You shouldn't be here because you care, Schuyler, whether you can admit it right now or not. You didn't get clean and stay that way for your mom; I'm not saying she wasn't part of it, but you're not giving yourself anywhere near enough credit when you say that. You got clean for yourself, and some part of you knows that; I know you do, or you wouldn't have said everything you did about Cole needing to get clean for himself and nobody else. You got clean because you were tired of being a drugged up loser and knew you could do more, and because you are better than this," she hissed passionately. "And tomorrow, you're going to be ashamed you did this, that you took the easy way out of whatever the hell it is bothering you right now, like a coward, just like I am."
"You're ashamed of me?" Schuyler repeated, his voice rough and disbelieving; it sounded like he was just thinking out loud, but Starr felt compelled to answer.
"Yes. Know why? Because just like you really do care, so do I. I care," she muttered uncomfortably, averting her eyes. Schuyler gazed at her emotionally for a moment as Starr pressed on. "And that's why you shouldn't be here."
Starr looked back up, and felt a rush of surprise when she saw that Schuyler was just staring at her, his expression dark and unreadable. Starr cautiously reached out to touch his shoulder, and Schuyler instantly shrugged her hand off like he'd been burned; Starr bit her lip, that tiny little gesture nearly bringing tears to her eyes.
"Shouldn't you be with Cole?" he asked pointedly, roughly turning away from her.
Starr sighed; well, good to know that little lie about Cole had been as dumb as she thought- she had just given him yet another way to try to get rid of her. Starr, of course, was being oblivious as she always was since the break-up when it came to Schuyler's feelings for her, and completely missed that Schuyler was flat out jealous, assuming this was only about Schuyler wanting her as far away from him as possible.
"Cole understands," she replied shortly and vaguely, determined not to be pushed away when he was in this state.
"Of course he does," Schuyler muttered, rolling his eyes. Starr blinked slowly, furrowing her brow; what was that supposed to mean?
"Schuy…" Starr began slowly, nervously combing her fingers through her hair. "Just tell me, what are you doing here? What could possibly have upset you enough that you'd break and come here? Did you have a fight with Stacy or something?" Starr asked reluctantly, hating herself for it. This could only bring her pain, why the hell would she ask?
The truth was, Star knew it was because she loved Schuyler enough to want him to be happy even if it meant her own misery, and she would do anything in her power to help him be happy, which he obviously wasn't right now.
"Who?" he asked blankly.
"What do you- Stacy!" Starr spluttered as she repeated it, staring at him with wide eyes. "Your girlfriend, hello? Are you seriously that drunk?"
"Ohhhhh, right, Stacy. Stacy," he repeated with a slight chuckle, tilting his head as he repeated her name a few more times. Starr gave an exasperated sigh, waiting for him to find a point. "You think…you think I'm here because I had a fight with Stacy?"
"That's what I'm asking you, yes," she snapped, hating him for forcing her to dwell on thoughts of him and Stacy together.
Schuyler just stared at her for a second, grinning strangely, and then suddenly burst out laughing, doubling over as his shoulders shook from the force of his laughter; apparently, he found the idea hysterical.
"I'm guessing that's a no," she muttered.
"Starr," he chuckled her name, shaking his head. "You actually think that? When I really…"
"When you what?" she prompted, thinking he had just lost track of himself again.
"Nevermind."
Starr pinched the bridge of her nose, slowly exhaling in frustration; he was killing her.
"Fine, Schuyler; if it's not because of Stacy, then what exactly drove you here?" Starr asked in exasperation.
Schuyler pressed his fist to his mouth, watching her contemplatively for a moment, then reluctantly tore his eyes away.
"I don't know," he mumbled, grabbing one of the shot glasses. He had just pressed it to his lips when Starr yanked it away from him, glaring, and slammed it back on the bar with a loud clang, causing the liquid to splash over the rim.
"You don't know," she repeated tightly, slowly giving a dark laugh. "Uh, wow. You ruin all your time sober with this stupid drunken night, and you don't even know why you did it? You cannot even begin to comprehend how pissed I am at you right now, Schuyler, you really can't," Starr sighed, massaging her temples. "Not that you care, I'm sure."
"I care," Schuyler suddenly snapped intensely, gripping her wrist and pulling it from her face. Starr looked at him in wide eyed surprise, and his face softened as he loosened his grip on her wrist, his thumb lightly caressing her skin. Starr shut her eyes, taking a shaky breath. "I care," he repeated quieter.
"We should go, Schuy," she said softly, before he could go any further with this. The last thing she needed was false hope. "Come on, I'll just-"
"I'm not going anywhere with you," he suddenly snapped, abruptly releasing her arm. Starr reeled back, hurt, and Schuyler instantly softened, groaning. "No, Starr, you don't get it," he moaned pitifully, suddenly slumping over and practically collapsing in her lap. Starr froze, biting her lip nervously, and awkwardly patted his back. "I didn't mean it like that, you just don't understand."
"Any chance you might actually help me with that, or would you rather just keep being cryptic and confusing?"
"…Huh?" he asked wearily as he turned his head to peer up at her in confusion, that being way too much for his mind to handle in it's current drunken state.
"Nothing. Schuyler, I just want to take you home, and then I'll leave right away," she muttered darkly, unable to believe she had to promise something like that only a week after she'd practically been living with him and thought things had been perfect. "Please."
Schuyler was silent for a long time, and then finally gave her a small nod as he heaved a great sigh. Starr again fought tears; was spending time with her seriously that painful for him?
Starr managed to get Schuyler's keys from him- he was now limp and seemed to be on the verge of passing out, so he wasn't much help- and handed them over to Gigi, asking that she keep them until Langston could get there. Then, she actually grabbed her phone to quickly call Langston.
"Hey, Lang," she began as soon as she heard the answer. "I-"
"You are not going to believe this, Starr!" Langston shrieked in greeting, in the completely infuriated tone that meant someone was going to be suffering her wrath soon. Any other night, Starr would have been dying to know what was up, but Schuyler had clouded her mind so much that she wasn't even curious.
"You'll have to tell me later, Langston, I need a favor," Starr interrupted quickly.
"What?" Langston asked; she was still huffing with anger, but could tell her friend needed help, not to listen to her rant and tell her about how she was going to murder her bitch cousin over what she'd discovered tonight.
"I, um, need you to ask Markko to take you by Rodi's, and for you to ask Gigi for Schuyler's keys and thendrive his car back to the ASM, and get a ride home from Markko afterwards. Just leave Schuyler's keys in the glove compartment or something, and leave him a note saying where they are, please. I'm really sorry I have-"
"Schuyler?" Langston interrupted, her anger evaporating for a moment in the face of this news. "Why do you need me to- oh my God, are you with him right now?! Starr, what's going on, are you two-"
"Can't talk," Starr said in a rush, flinching as she hung up on her friend. Not the nicest move, but she really couldn't get into a big discussion about that right now. "Okay, Schuyler, let's go," she sighed, helping him off the barstool and putting her arm around his waist supportively.
Now, instead of pulling away from her touch, Schuyler did the opposite, clinging to Starr and pulling her tightly against his side. She was pretty sure he actually nuzzled her hair for a split second, and it made her stop dead in her tracks; uh, okay, apparently they had gotten to the 'affectionate' stage of drunkness.
"You shouldn't haftalie to Lang…ston," he mumbled in a slight slur against her hair.
"I didn't lie," she told him tightly, pushing the door open and dragging him out into the parking lot. "I just avoided it all together."
"Shouldn't have to avoid," he muttered.
"Well, too late!" she snapped, not sure of how to handle this; despite dumping her and kicking her out of his life, he still had that stupid guilt complex when it came to her? That made no sense.
Starr managed to get Schuyler in the passenger seat and she drove him back to his place in an unnerving silence; he just stared at her, way too intently, the entire time, and Starr desperately forced herself to look straight ahead as if she hadn't noticed.
"Stacy?" she called now that they were right outside the door; she wasn't sure if she wanted the other girl there or gone more, it was close. "Stacy, are you there?" she tried again, waiting in the following silence far longer than necessary.
"I don't think she's here," Schuyler said in a dramatic stage whisper beside her.
"Guess not," Starr muttered grimly; she'd really wanted to avoid going inside, where she knew the memories would be a thousand times more painful than at school- and things were barely manageable there.
Starr reluctantly got the door open and helped Schuyler inside, breathing sharply when one of the first things she saw was her own shirt in a corner of the floor; instantly, flashes of the day she'd left it there raced through her mind, ending on Schuyler's cold eyes as he told her he didn't want her and shattered her heart to pieces, and Starr struggled to breathe as she fought for control.
"Starr?"
If Starr didn't know better, the note of something that sound an awful lot like concern, in Schuyler's voice, might have made Starr think he was worried, that he cared- good thing she did know better.
Starr didn't say anything as she guided him to bed- she couldn't, the effort it took to keep from crumbling to pieces as every step they took reminded her of some kiss or laugh they'd shared in that spot, overwhelming her ability to do anything but walk and stare dead ahead. Schuyler quickly collapsed on the bed when they reached it, groaning and clutching his head.
"I'll be right back," she muttered.
Starr quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the kitchen, then wandered into the bathroom; all she had wanted to do was grab the trash bin, but once she was inside, memories of that day Cole had come storming in and she'd had to hide flooded her mind. She recalled every harsh word Schuyler said, how he'd tried to reassure her at the time that he loved her and it was all an act for Cole. Even when she'd believed that, it had still hurt like hell, and now that she knew Schuyler didn't love her at all, that he'd subconsciously meant every word he'd said to Cole, it was agonizing. She doubled over for a moment, tightly pressing her fist to her mouth to muffle the sound of her crying, mentally begging herself to just wait until she was out of his apartment to do this.
Finally, Starr managed to swallow her sobs and put her brave face back on, even though she knew it was obvious what she'd been doing by her red, blotchy eyes, and quickly grabbed the trash can; she considered getting Advil too, but honestly, screw that. If he wanted to act like a dumb asshole and get drunk (Starr was surprised by just how angry she was with him for this), the least he could do was deal with the headache.
"Here's everything you need, feel better, see you in class," she said in one short breath, speaking so quickly that the words blended together as she kept her eyes on her shoes.
Starr quickly spun on her heel so she could get the hell out of there, but to her surprise, Schuyler, who seemed just barely awake, caught her wrist and turned her back to face him. Starr uncomfortably kept looking everywhere but at him, until finally, the weight of his gaze was just too much to take and she finally met his eyes. Schuyler studied her for a moment, then smiled grimly, tugging her down closer to him so he could cup her cheek, his fingers lightly tracing the remaining wetness under her eyes. Starr shut her eyes as shivered, unconsciously leaning into his touch, feeling almost desperate for it.
"All I ever do is make you cry," he noted, his voice so thick with sadness that it hurt her too.
He removed his hand, and Starr slowly let her eyes flutter open, hating that the moment she'd been pathetically wishing could go on forever had ended in five seconds. She, for some reason, opened her mouth to assure Schuyler that wasn't true, hating to see him feeling so guilty for her pain even though the fact was, he was the cause of it, but Schuyler's eyes were shut and his breathing had already evened out. Starr sighed; that was for the best, it would make her escape so much easier.
Forcing herself not to touch him, not to let her gaze linger, she turned and quickly left the sleeping area and walked into the living room, seeing that stupid shirt again. She hesitantly swooped down and grabbed it, holding it carefully between two fingers, as if it disgusted her. She was so burning the stupid thing when she got home; she was definitely never going to wear it again anyway.
Starr grabbed her purse where she'd dropped it near the door, fishing her car keys back out, and froze suddenly as her fingers brushed the paper stuffed inside- that dumb letter of hers. She'd brought it to show Jessica, because she knew trying to verbally articulate how she felt was just going to make her cry again.
Starr nervously bit her lip as she felt a surprising urge, and finally, she decided to give in, grasping her letter and placing it on the table for him to find before practically running out of the apartment, knowing she would chicken out if she stayed there for one more second. If Schuyler was going to feel guilty about hurting the poor little girl he'd led on or whatever, she might as well make sure he knew the full extent of what he'd done. It's not like it would truly bother him in the long run anyway; Starr thought with a surge of bitterness about how she was sure Stacy would comfort him and make it all better.
Starr had no idea that only feet away from her in his room, it was her name that Schuyler was muttering in his sleep, as he clutched the pillow she'd always used when she was there to his chest like drowning man held a lifeline.