Wow. Okay. First of all I am SO sorry that this took so long to get up. I hope you guys like it and I promise x10000 that I won't take so long to get chapter 9 up. So please please let me know what you think!


"Yeah, I fell…but these guys caught me. It's what mates do. 'Cause it's screwed up out there. I don't know if you've been outside lately, but it is. But we have a go. Whatever comes, we have a good go at it. It's all we can do."-Nick Levan, Skins


Chapter 8: The Sun Will Rise

I've been stuck in a storm before, felt the wind raging at my door
Couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't find a way out
Somehow, the clouds disappeared
Somehow, I made it here.


Kendall's not in the room when Logan checks into the Palm Woods this week. He's usually always there before Logan, sprawled on his bed and writing in his journal or hanging out in the lobby with the rest of their gang. Come to think of it… Logan doesn't recall seeing Kendall at school that day either. He wonders if maybe he should have called him to see if he was okay, but then he wonders if he's just being paranoid. For all he knows, Kendall could have just caught a stomach bug and stayed home to get better.

He puts his bag down in his room and plops down onto his own bed, staring at the ticking clock and wishing he was allowed to have his cell phone or laptop with him. Instead, he takes out his copy of Heart of Darkness and opens it to his bookmarked page, pausing when his sleeve rides up on his arm. He no longer has to wear bandages over his wrists, and the stitches are gone, so now every time he looks down he can see the long, pale scars that shout to the world what he did. Or what he tried to do, at least.

The wounds haven't completely healed yet, so the pink lines stand out against his light skin and Logan knows enough to know that these types of scars won't ever completely fade away. He wonders if he'll ever be able to wear short-sleeved shirts again, or if he'll spend the rest of his life wearing jackets and button-downs to hide the evidence.

He tries half-heartedly to make some progress in the book he's been assigned for English, but finally calls it quits when it's nearly time to head upstairs for group. James and Carlos are there with Lucy and Jo. Camille comes in right behind Logan. But Kendall doesn't show up until the very last second, looking exhausted and upset. During group he looks antsy, giving rushed responses to questions and not paying much attention to the activities. When Dr. Johnson finally leaves the room, all eyes turn to him.

"What's the matter, Kendall?" Logan asks.

"I fucked up," he says immediately. "I drank last night."

Everyone looks surprised except for Carlos, who suddenly seems extremely interested in a speck of dirt on the floor, which does not go unnoticed by Logan.

"What happened? Is that why you didn't come to school today?"

Kendall nods. "I went to—" He pauses and glances at Carlos. "I went to the woods last night."

Carlos' territory. Everyone knows that. He's still looking awkwardly away from the group, not wanting to face their questions.

"Carlos?" Logan starts.

"It's not his fault," Kendall steps in. "I wanted to go out there. He tried to keep me from drinking and I ignored him. My mom kept me home from school and she didn't go to work either."

"Are you alright though?" Camille asks, concerned.

Kendall shrugs. "I don't know. Not really. I was stupid. I shouldn't have done it. My mom can't afford to miss work because of me," he says, stressed. "What if she gets fired and it's all my fault?"

No one really knows what to say to make him feel better. They have no way of knowing if things will turn out okay or not, so how can they give him false hope and tell him everything's fine? They can't. Because if they've learned anything about each other over the past weeks and months, it's that they trust each other to tell the truth, even when it might not be what they want to hear. Instead they settle for just being there for each other. It's the best they can do.


At dinner Logan sits in between Camille and Kendall. He watches silently as Camille meticulously cuts up her food and pushes it around her plate. Every so often she brings the fork up to her mouth, then suddenly has something to add to the conversation and pauses. By the end of the mealtime she's taken exactly six bites. He counted.

She looks morosely down at her plate, shoving it towards Carlos and James, who pick off the bits they want for themselves. Underneath the table, Logan's hand finds hers and gives it a gentle squeeze, and he doesn't move it afterward. She gives him a small smile, a blush creeping onto her cheeks as she allows him to hold her hand.

It's not really romantic; at least, Logan doesn't think it is. He means it to be comforting. A show of friendship. Just to let her know he's there. He hasn't really sorted out what his feelings for Camille might be, mostly because he's not sure if he's ready to complicate his life further by trying to bring a girlfriend into it. But he does know that she's a good friend, that they enjoy each other's company, and that someday—maybe soon—friendship might not be enough for either of them.

But someday isn't today, and that's a conversation that will have to wait for another time. When he's more stable. When he can wake up in the morning and be ready to face the day ahead, rather than wishing he didn't have to.

After dinner, Carlos wants to show them something. The group sneaks down the hall to a stairwell that doesn't often get used, passing a red-headed girl on their way who watches them all disappear through the unlocked door.

"Where are we going, Carlos?" Jo wants to know.

"You'll see," he replies, leading them up the stairs.

They quietly climb higher and higher until finally Carlos stops and pulls open a door. Everyone shudders as a blast of cold air hits them, before realizing where Carlos has brought them.

"Dude. Are we on the roof?" James asks.

"Yep," Carlos says happily. "I found out that the maintenance guys usually forget to lock it. Anyone can just come up here."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Kendall walks cautiously out onto the flat surface, taking in the view around him. The sun is just starting to set, casting an orange glow over everything.

"I don't think so," Carlos answers. "I've never seen anyone even use these stairs."

"I don't know if we should be up here, guys," Logan says, a worried expression on his face. "We could get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds us."

"Aw, calm down, Mitchell," Lucy nudges him good-naturedly. "What are they gonna do to us?" She follows Kendall outside, zipping up her jacket to protect her from the cold air.

Soon Logan and Camille are the only ones still standing in the doorway. "Should we?" Logan looks at Camille.

"Only if you promise not to jump," she says. She slips her hand into his again to let him know she's joking and pulls him outside.

They walk over to the ledge, away from the other members of their group, and sit together, keeping an eye on everyone and watching the sunset.

"You're still not eating much," Logan says after a moment.

"I'm working on it," she murmurs.

"Are you?"

"It's hard," Camille sighs. "I want to want it. I just…"

"Don't want it?" Logan tries with a half-smile.

"Pretty much."

"I'm sure you'll get there."

"Here's to hoping."

Logan yawns and stretches his arms, and the sleeves on his hoodie ride up enough to reveal the scars on his wrists. He allows Camille to trace them lightly with her fingertips, rather than cover them instantly like he normally does. His skin tingles wherever she touches him and he has a fleeting urge to kiss her that he suppresses for the moment. He's already told himself that he needs to get himself together before he can think about her that way. It wouldn't be fair to drag her into his problems; but then again, he reflects, it's not like there's anything she doesn't already know.

Those scars that he's letting her touch, letting her see—it's not something he does for everyone. He hides them from everyone else—his parents, his old friends—because they only serve as a shameful reminder of how he let things spiral. They lead to questions that he's unprepared and unwilling to answer and sometimes, when his thoughts turn dark, he isn't sure which he regrets more: the fact that he tried to kill himself, or the fact that he didn't succeed. His parents would prefer to ignore the problem completely, perfectly happy in their fantasy world of a picture-perfect family of a successful doctor, real-estate agent, and straight-A genius son. And his old friends… well. They've all but abandoned him, basically, unsure of how to treat him after what happened. They don't understand him or his feelings or anything, really, and instead of trying to do so, mostly they've backed off.

"They don't freak you out?" He can't stop himself from voicing the question on his mind. He knows what her answer will be, but he still needs to hear it. Needs to know for sure that his insecurities are unfounded and she won't be like the others who so easily walked away from him.

"Nope," Camille replies without hesitation, just as he knew she would. "Everyone has their issues, Logan. People like us… we just let ours get out of control for a little while."

"So how did you deal with it last time things got too out of control?"

Camille smiles humorlessly and looks at Logan as if the answer is obvious. And if he thinks about it for a moment, it is. "I stopped eating until they took me to the hospital."


Logan swats Kendall's hand away grumpily. It's too early to get up for breakfast.

"Ten more minutes," he mumbles into his pillow.

"Logan, you gotta get up!"

Through his sleepy haze, Logan hears something not right in Kendall's voice, and it makes him perk up a little bit.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. Something bad, I think."

That's when he hears the sirens and the alarm and his brain finally clicks into gear. He sits up and rubs his eyes, squinting because of the harsh glare of the overhead lights. The fire alarm is sounding through the building, and an automated voice is directing everyone to remain calm and exit the building quickly. Kendall is shoving his feet into his sneakers without bothering to untie them, and Logan looks up at the clock. It's just after four A.M. He puts on his own shoes and hoodie and follows Kendall out into the lobby, where a bunch of other sleepy and confused-looking kids are standing around, wondering what's happening. They're being shepherded outside in lines like some sort of middle school fire drill, and Kendall and Logan follow the crowd, listening to the shouted directions of the night-staff nurses, doctors, and counselors, still unaware of why this is happening.

They end up at the very back of the crowd with James and Carlos. Carlos stops to tie his shoe and the others wait for him, getting left behind as the line of people moves forward without them. He struggles with it for an agonizingly long minute because somehow the laces ended up knotted together and by the time he's fixed it and stands up straight, ready to move forward, Logan has stopped dead in his tracks.

"Loges? You okay?"

They follow his gaze to where an ambulance has parked, and several police officers stand talking into walkie-talkies. They recognize a few of the doctors and counselors speaking with the police, and their confusion only mounts higher. They're tired and freezing, and they just want to know what's going on, and they're just about to try to pull Logan forward so they can rejoin the rest of the crowd, when they see it.

Someone's being wheeled out on a stretcher.

But something isn't right.

There's no oxygen mask, or people rushing to get the injured person to the hospital, or anyone trying to administer any type of first-aid.

Logan's the first to understand. "Oh my God." He looks sick, like he might pass out at any moment. He sways a little and Kendall has to reach out to steady him.

"Logan? What's-?"

Kendall's question trails off as they continue to watch the scene unfold before them. There's a couple speaking to a doctor. The boys can't hear anything and they're too far away to see their facial expressions, but their body language… they look… distraught? A police officer speaks into a walkie-talkie and makes a note on a clipboard before gesturing to another officer standing with him in front of the person on the stretcher. The second officer zips the person inside a large bag and covers it with a sheet, shaking his head as he does so.

"Did someone-?" Kendall tries to speak again but he can't form the words.

"I think someone died," Logan whispers.

"What? Who?" Carlos cranes his neck, trying to see if he can gather more details.

"Let's get back to the group," James says, yanking Carlos along. "Maybe someone will tell us something."

"We should go find—we need to make sure it isn't…" Kendall doesn't want to say what he's thinking.

"We need to find the girls," Logan says for him, swallowing thickly.

The boys hurry towards where the other residents of the Palm Woods are gathered. By now there's a buzz going around that something bad has happened—this isn't just a normal fire drill, but the doctors are refusing to release details. Logan and the others push through the crowd, trying to find the girls. They find Lucy first, looks of relief washing over Carlos and James as they both go to embrace her.

"What's going on?" She's confused by their sudden show of affection.

"Something's wrong," Logan tells her quietly. "There's police and an ambulance and… I think… I think someone died."

Lucy's eyes widen. "What? How do you know?"

"I saw them zip a body bag," he explains. "Have you seen Camille and Jo?"

"You don't think it's-?"

"I don't know! I just want to make sure."

James and Kendall, being the tallest, peer over the tops of peoples' heads, trying to find the remaining two members of the group. On the bright side, they should be together since they're roommates. If they find one, they find both. Unless… But no, they won't allow themselves to think that way.

"Camille!" James spots her starts making his way toward her, weaving through people and leading Logan and the others to her and Jo.

Logan's demeanor relaxes slightly when he sees her and he slips his arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. She's shivering underneath her thin sweater—there hadn't been enough time for her to locate her coat and grab it. Kendall takes a step toward Jo but stops himself from hugging her, remembering her aversion to physical contact. So it surprises him when she wraps her arms his waist quickly.

Their group is whole, thank God, and Logan and the boys fill the girls in on what they witnessed while Carlos was tying his shoe. They look around and notice that they aren't the only ones who've gathered automatically into their assigned groups. Sets of teenagers stand in huddles of seven to ten, whispering and craning their necks, wanting to know why they're standing outside in the middle of the night. Finally they see the ambulance and police cars start to leave, and doctors begin ushering them back into the building. They go through the lobby to the large cafeteria to sit and wait for someone to explain to them what's going on.

Logan's suspicions are proven correct when Dr. Jacobs, the facility director tells them that there has been an "accident" and that everyone's parents are currently being called. The Palm Woods is shutting down for the weekend while the police conduct an investigation. A low murmur immediately sweeps through the room as everyone looks around to try and find out who's missing.

It doesn't take long.

Only one group is missing a person, and they're sitting together in a corner. Some are crying, some just sitting, looking shell-shocked.

Her name was Lauren Murray. She was sixteen years old.

When the whispered name reaches Logan and the others, they sit in dumbfounded silence until Logan, always the first to put the pieces together, starts to understand what happened.

"We passed her in the hallway after dinner," he whispers. "When we went up to the roof. She was in the hall. She saw us go up there. She knew the door wouldn't be locked."

"What?" Kendall tries to make sense of what Logan's trying to say.

"She jumped," Logan states, emotions starting to rise. "She pulled the fire alarm on her way upstairs so someone would find her. She saw us go up on the roof and waited 'til later to go herself."

"Logan, you don't know that! You're just guessing."

"It all fits, Kendall! Why else would the fire alarm be going off at four AM?"

Kendall opens his mouth to argue some more but realizes he has nothing else to say. Is Logan right? …Isn't he always?

"Oh, fuck," Kendall mumbles. "Holy shit."

"This is so fucked up," James says softly.

"Stop. Just stop talking about it!" Jo looks seriously freaked out, wrapping her arms around herself. "We don't know anything yet!"

By now parents are starting to arrive, many looking panicked and worried as they sign out their children and take them home. Logan's mother hugs him tightly when she gets there, refusing to let go, as if by holding him she's sure that he really is there. Maybe it hits a little too close to home for her. Maybe she's thinking about how close she came to losing her own son.

He's too wound up to sleep when they get home, but he lies and tells Mrs. Mitchell he'll be fine. She turns out his light for him and shuts his bedroom door softly, leaving him alone.


Camille sits quietly at the breakfast table with her father on Monday morning, having spent a weekend at home for the first time in weeks. She's eaten a bowl of cereal and a banana and is resisting the urge to go back upstairs and weigh herself one last time before going to school.

She hasn't spoken to Logan or anyone else all weekend—she was still too freaked out to want to talk about it, and anyway, she doesn't want to confront the fact that what Logan said is probably true. Lauren Murray jumped off the roof of the Palm Woods, and the only reason she'd been able to was because she saw them go through the unlocked door after dinner.

Lauren Murray died, and it's their fault.

School is weirdly normal after what happened. Everyone walks down the hallway as usual, chatting about their weekends and talking about upcoming tests and trying to decide if and when it's too early to start shopping for prom dresses.

She wants to scream. Someone died. Doesn't anyone care?

The story had been on the news, of course, though no details had really been given out. Besides, Lauren Murray didn't even go to Oakmont. So even if her classmates had heard about it, it wasn't anyone they knew. As far as they were concerned, she was just some crazy girl who killed herself. Sad, but nothing to get too worked up over. Just something to gossip about until something else interesting happened.

When she goes into the cafeteria at lunchtime, she's only a little surprised to find Logan and the others all sitting together at one table. This has never happened before because up until now they've always been too concerned with trying to keep their school lives and their weekend lives separate. But with her and Logan getting closer, and the rumors about Kendall and James, it's becoming too hard to keep acting like they're different people. Especially for Camille. When she acts, she wants to play a character completely different from herself. She wants to throw herself into a role and forget about who she is for awhile. She doesn't want to have to act like a watered-down version of who she already is just to get to through the school day.

They're sitting quietly together, still looking shell-shocked from what happened. Carlos has new details to report.

"I eavesdropped on my dad talking about the case with the investigators," he explains in a low voice. "They found drugs on her. I don't know what it was, but the way they were talking about it, it sounds like what Logan said is exactly right. She took the drugs and went up on the roof, pulled the fire alarm, and jumped."

"Oh my God," Camille and Jo murmur simultaneously.

"How did she get drugs into the Palm Woods?" James asks. "They check our bags."

"But not our pockets," Lucy mumbles quietly.

Logan starts to say something but he's interrupted when Principal Malone comes up to their table.

"Carlos Garcia. I need to speak with you in my office."

"What? Why?" Carlos looks confused. "I haven't done anything!"

"There is a Detective Ramos here who would like you to answer a few questions regarding the investigation of the death of a girl called Lauren Murray." Principal Malone grips Carlos' arm and pulls him from the cafeteria, leaving the rest of the table to wonder why.


After school, Lucy waits for Carlos in the park. Her fingers shake as she tries to light a cigarette, but she finally succeeds and sucks in a long drag, holding the smoke in her lungs and blowing it out slowly. She hopes he'll show up, but if he got in some kind of trouble with the police, who knows when she might see him again.

Things have been… weird, to say the least, between her and Carlos. They never really talked about it, but she guesses he forgave her for sleeping with his best friend. He's speaking to her again, at any rate, and that's a start. She doesn't know what she'd do if he stayed mad at her. She doesn't like admitting that she needs other people, but Carlos… and James, Camille, Logan, Kendall, and Jo—they're more of a family to her than she's ever had before. And, well… fuck it. She needs them. All of them.

Lucy looks up when she hears footsteps, but it's not Carlos who approaches. It's James. He sits beside her silently and she offers him a cigarette. He takes one and her lighter and they sit there smoking, both thinking they should probably speak but not really knowing what to say.

"Are you waiting for him?" James finally asks, referring to Carlos.

"Yeah. I figured he'd stop by here after school. I just… want to make sure he's okay."

"What about you? Are you okay?"

"Are any of us really okay?" She returns.

"Touché. I can't—I can't believe she really did it, you know? I don't think I've ever spoken to her before. I keep wondering what was going through her head. I feel like… I feel like it's our fault."

"It's not our fault," Lucy says sharply. "It's no one's fault."

"We practically showed her the way out she was looking for."

"She killed herself, James! It's not like we led her up there and watched her go! We didn't know what she was thinking, alright? She would have found another way to do it sooner or later."

"Whoa, okay! Calm down, Luce. I'm just saying, I'm freaked out is all. I've never really known anyone who died."

"We're all freaked out. But we have nothing to do with it."

She finishes her cigarette and crushes it on the ground.

"I didn't mean to upset you," James tells her softly.

"I know. I'm sorry… I just—I don't know how to deal with this. It's screwed up beyond measure."

"We'll figure something out. We'll figure out a way to deal."

"I'm not so good with that sort of thing, if you hadn't noticed," Lucy says sarcastically.

She looks down at her arm, and James follows her gaze. There are no new scars or cuts, which James is glad for. He hopes she's finding better ways to channel her emotions—that she's not just suppressing things and let them build up inside her.

His phone rings loudly. He looks down at the screen, frowning down at it but not answering yet.

"Just—don't… don't hurt yourself, okay? Call me or something if you need to. Please."

Lucy nods, struck by his earnestness. He answers his phone and gets up to leave, talking in frustrated tones his mother, who is undoubtedly fussing over where he is and why he isn't home yet. Lucy stays in the park awhile longer, but Carlos never shows up.


When he gets to school the next day, word is going around that Carlos was arrested and detained. He scowls at people whispering about him in the hallway—they don't know anything about the legal system. He was questioned, not arrested. Idiots.

At lunchtime, the group all sits together again, ignoring the stares coming from their classmates, which are more blatant than the day before. By now everyone's heard about Lauren Murray, and even more important, they've heard about Carlos' and the others' possible connection to it.

"They think I dealt her the drugs," Carlos announces when he sits down. "I didn't," he adds, before anyone can ask. "They're waiting for a toxicology report, but they're pretty sure she was wrecked when she jumped."

"Are you in trouble?" Camille asks.

"Nah. I didn't give her the drugs. They can't even prove I'm dealing to anyone, much less to her. They searched my locker and everything. And my mom and dad tore apart my bedroom looking for anything that would show I'm not a hundred percent on the straight and narrow."

"And they didn't find anything?" Kendall seems surprised. "How'd you pull that off?"

"Please, do you think I'd even be alive if they found anything? There's a reason I do all my business at the park. Though my mom was pretty shocked to find a box of condoms," he smirks.

The boys all grin appreciatively before returning to the subject at hand.

"But where could she have gotten the drugs from?" Logan wonders.

"It's not like I'm the only dealer in this town," Carlos tells him matter-of-factly. "Or even in this school."

"So what else did they ask you about?" James changes the topic.

"Well someone said they saw us in the hallway, so he asked what we were doing and I told the truth about how we went up on the roof and stuff, so… they'll probably want to talk to you guys too. But we're not in trouble," he adds quickly, seeing the sudden panic on everyone's faces. "They can't do anything to us. If anything, Lauren's parents will sue the Palm Woods for not making sure all the doors are locked at all times."

"I can't believe this is happening," Jo moans. "She lived across the hall from us! We saw her every weekend and…"

Her sentence trails off but she doesn't need to say it. Everyone's thinking the same thing. Could they have prevented it somehow? Could they have said anything, done anything, had they known, that would make her change her mind? Could they have helped her?

Camille grips Logan's hand underneath the table, and he can feel her trembling. He squeezes her lightly to reassure her that things are going to be fine, but he's not even sure he believes it himself. He glances down again at the scars that mar his wrists, thinking about Lauren Murray and what might have been going through her mind. He thinks back to that afternoon nearly two months ago, when he was home alone. He'd been feeling really shitty for a long time, and nothing seemed to make it better. His parents either couldn't or wouldn't see the pain he was in, and he couldn't burden his friends with his issues… he just felt that he had nowhere to turn and only saw one way out. He sat and stared at the razor blade sitting on his countertop and just thought… this is it.

He knew exactly where and how deep to cut. All he had to do was not chicken out. And he didn't. But his mother had come home early unexpectedly and ruined—no—saved him. He blacked out in her arms, his last conscious thought being, I'm sorry. Sorry for what, though, he didn't know. For not living up to her and Mr. Mitchell's expectations. For not being the son they wanted, even though he had no idea what kind of son that was. Maybe he was sorry he was making her find him like this, bleeding to death, literally, on the bathroom floor.

He thinks about how he told the others that once he'd decided to do it… it wasn't a good feeling, but he was just… certain. He was doing something for himself for once, twisted as that sounded, and the thought had comforted him. The day was his to choose, that's what he'd told them in therapy all those weeks ago. He can relate to Lauren Murray, and that scares him. She saw her way out, just like he had. She took her dare, only she didn't have anyone to step in and save her. Maybe she didn't even go up on the roof intending to kill herself. Maybe she just wanted to see if the view looked better from up there. But then… maybe she looked down at everything around her and saw her life flash before her eyes. Not her past, though. Her future. Maybe rather than face a lifetime of wondering if things would ever get better, she chose instead a moment of flying freedom.


Carlos finds Lucy waiting for him in the park. She didn't tell him she was going to be there, or even that she wanted to speak with him, but he knows when something's on her mind. Not that she would tell him, since her usual mode of operation when she's upset is to avoid him. He doesn't know if it's because she doesn't trust him or because she trusts him too much. Is it even possible to trust someone too much? Yes, he thinks. Trusting someone too much is a sure-fired way to get your heart broken.

But wait. Who said anything about broken hearts? They're not… that's not what their relationship is. Is it? Just because they've hooked up a few times—okay, a lot of times—doesn't mean they were all emotionally connected and shit. But if that's true, Carlos reflects, why did it bother him so much when he found out about her and Wayne? It's a question he'd rather not get into at the moment, because it beings up feelings he's unprepared to decipher. He was never supposed to have feelings to decipher about her in the first place.

Lucy's sitting on a swing, swaying gently back and forth, looking off into the distance, and Carlos isn't even sure she's realized he's there until she finally looks him in the eye. He walks around behind her and pushes lightly on the small of her back. She lets the momentum carry her forward, sticking her legs out so her feet don't catch on the ground. She allows him to push her on the swing wordlessly for awhile before dragging her feet and coming to a stop.

He sits down next to her and she looks over at him, holding his gaze. "They were mine." Her voice cracks but she manages to get the sentence out.

Carlos looks at her confusedly. "What do—"

"The drugs. What they found on Lauren. They were mine. I gave them to her—sold them. I just—she—I ran into her in the bathroom and she asked me if I knew if anyone was carrying and I told her I was. It was right before curfew and I—I didn't know she—I wouldn't have given them to her if I had known—"

Her voice is getting more high-pitched as she becomes more distraught while she tells the story. She's shaking again and she's going to start crying until Carlos stands and pulls her toward him, engulfing her in a hug that she's too hysterical to return.

"It's my fault she died," she cries into his chest. "I—I don't know what—I didn't—"

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Carlos tries to calm her down. "You're okay."

"No, I'm not!"

"You didn't mean for it to happen!" Carlos shakes her a little bit to force her to focus on him. "It's not your fault, okay?"

"What's gonna happen to me when people find out?" She sniffs, finally looking at his face. He looks shocked, but he hasn't abandoned her and run for the hills, so that's sort of a plus.

"No one has to find out. I won't tell anyone, okay? Nothing's gonna happen to you." Carlos strokes her hair, soothing her until she finally stops trembling in his arms. "I won't let anything happen to you. I promise."

"You can't promise that."

"Yes, I can," he says fiercely. "We just have to act normal until this all blows over!"

"What if I can't?"

"Listen to me. You're stronger than you think, okay? I know you are, even if you don't."

Lucy still seems unsure so Carlos does the only thing he can think of to let her know she's not alone.

He kisses her.

He tilts her shin up ever so slightly and leans in, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to hers in a kiss unlike any other they've shared before. It's sweeter and softer than the usual heated ones that pass between them—the ones that only act as a prelude to the mindless hookups in backseats of cars or in bathrooms at parties. He takes her by surprise, but Lucy kisses him back, gripping a fistful of his hair as if to convince herself that he's really there, that he won't disappear as soon as she lets go.

Carlos pulls away and searches her eyes, looking for any sign that what he did wasn't okay. He's aware that they've now crossed a line and wonders if and how they can ever go back to before, and if he even wants to. Lucy's not like any girl he's ever met, and he wouldn't even know how to go about changing the nature of their relationship, especially not now when they've both got so much other shit going on.

They're broken out of their moment when a woman with three small children approaches the park. Two of them run straight toward Carlos and Lucy, who are still standing nose-to-nose in front of the swing set. They move out of the way so the kids can swing, pretending not to notice the disapproving look from the well-to-do woman who clearly thinks they're up to no good.

Lucy feels calmer when she gets home, happily noting that her stepfather has already passed out and won't bother her tonight. She's not hysterical anymore, but she still feels guilty for what happened, and nothing Carlos or anyone else says will convince her that she isn't to blame for Lauren Murray's death. It's more bearable when she's with people, because they can distract her from thinking about her. But here, in the privacy of her bedroom, there can be no escape. And she doesn't deserve one. She wants to feel the guilt, the pain, because it's the least she can afford after costing someone their life, isn't it? She lies in bed thinking of the razorblade kept in her side drawer, the one she promised herself she wouldn't use, promised James she wouldn't use.

She thinks back to how he told her to call him if she wanted to hurt herself, but how can she do that without then having to tell him why she wants to?

She calls him anyway and he answers quickly.

"Lucy?"

She doesn't really know what to say. "…Hi."

"Hi… Are you okay?"

"I don't… know."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at home. In bed."

"At six o'clock?"

"I… it's not a good day," she whispers.

"Oh. Did you, um…?"

"I didn't cut myself," Lucy tells him. "But I haven't ruled it out."

James sighs. In relief? It sounds relieved. "Do you, um… do you need some company? Should I like, come over?"

"No," she says quickly, thinking of her stepfather. He would not want to see her bring a boy home. It would only mean awful things for her. "No. I'm… fine. Just… talk to me for a bit. Please. About something normal."

"Normal?" He laughs. "Nothing about any of us is normal." But he tells her about his day, how he'd forgotten about a vocab test but he thinks he's done alright, how people are still looking at him weirdly because of the whole deal with Jett Stetson, Kendall, and Jo; and how his dad and stepmom have gone on an impromptu vacation, leaving him to deal with his mother 24/7.

She doesn't interrupt him or add much to the conversation, but he continues talking, hoping that maybe the sound of his voice will be enough for her to hang on to.

"Thank you," she says, when he finally finishes speaking.

"Any time."

When she clicks the phone off, she's still thinking about the blade that's so easily in reach. But it's easier than she thought it would be to push it away in her mind. Instead she reaches for a container of sleeping pills, taking out exactly one and swallowing it dry. She turns her back to the side drawer, waiting for the drowsiness to overtake her and finally falling into a deep, if not peaceful sleep.


And there it is. I really hope you're still enjoying the story. Stick with me, guys, and again I'm really sorry it took me so long! Thank you guys for reading/reviewing/alerting and sending me stuff on Tumblr! Please please please review and tell me what you thought!