Stay

by jaeger-soul

Dash Baxter is finally a senior and this year isn't supposed to be hard. With nothing waiting on him after graduation, he might as well sleep through his classes. He's already got a job after high school's over, why reach for more? He's fine with what he has. But when 'more' comes in the form of a black-haired boy with similar problems to his own, can Dash really not try for it?

87. Color Me Free

Warning: on screen attack, talk of PTSD, brief mentions of homophobia, and general anxiety

---

I lay in bed for close to an hour before I hear someone on the stairs. Years of living with Dad has given me a talent for hearing things even from inside my room. They come to a stop outside my door and knock on it. I know I probably still look wrecked but I call out for them to come in anyway.

Alex is the one who pushes my door open, stepping inside with a smile on his face. I hate myself for making him freeze when he sees me. For a few seconds, we're suspended in silence. We just stare at each other, waiting on the other to break it first.

I look away from him, blowing out a breath as I return my stare to the ceiling. I don't know how to do this. I'm fine. It's been a month since I saw Dad but it might as well have been yesterday. Why can't I just let this go?

Alex steps into my room, the click of the door settling in the latch quiet in the silence. He crosses my room and sinks down on the end of my bed near my feet. He doesn't say anything but he places his hand on my lower leg. And it drags another breath from me.

"What happened?" he asks.

I hate that I'm making this about me again. Somebody spray-painted the garage just to hurt him. And here I am — end of the night and it's me losing it.

"It's nothing," I mumble, running my hand down my face.

Alex catches my hand when I drop it. I can't meet his gaze but I let him hold my hand, his strong palm against my shaky, sweaty one.

"Well… you've been crying. So it's obviously not nothing."

He says the words delicately, like he's trying not to embarrass me. But I still feel the heat rise to my face anyway. I wonder if I'll ever reach a point where I can think about the shit that happened to me as a kid and not cry about it. Not carry the shame like a heavy coat weighing me down.

"It's just… sometimes I don't think that I'll… that I'll ever forget."

Alex runs his thumb over the back of my hand. "Forget what?"

"Everything," I breathe.

He doesn't say anything, just keeps holding my hand. And despite the tightness in my chest and the urge to clam up about all of this shit, I start to speak instead. Pull the curtain back on my brokenness for once.

"It's like… some days I'm perfectly fine. And I'm here with you and Kendra and everything is good and fine and I'm happy and then…" I falter, my breath coming out shaky.

Alex fills in for me. "And then everything's not fine?"

"Yeah. A-And I… I'm back in my house. With my dad. And he's… and it's a mess," I say, cutting myself off from the worst things my mind has conjured up in the last hour I've been up here.

"Have you talked to your therapist about any of this?" Alex asks. He makes a soft hmm when I shake my head. "Maybe you should. She could probably help you work through some of this."

I swallow hard, the question burning at the back of my throat. "What if I don't want to work through this?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

It's hard to explain. And at the same time, it's so fucking simple. Alex must have been where I am right now — his father was like mine. Probably worse. He must understand this. Please understand this.

"Because what if… what if I talk about it and work through it and when it's over and done with I'm not… I'm not me anymore. What do I do then?" I ask, closing my eyes in the quiet. "How do I talk about the shit that made me who I am?"

Alex tightens his hold on my hand. "Look at me."

I don't want to but I open my eyes. Roll my head toward him. Stare right into the concern I knew was gonna be in his eyes.

"You are not what they did to you. You are not what you've been through. Who you are is completely up to you." His eyebrows draw down when I stare back at him without a word. "You're your own person, Dash. You get to decide to be whatever you want. And you need to know that you are already one hell of a great person."

I let out a breath and look away from him. I don't know what he sees. What anyone sees. But when I look in the mirror, I see a carbon copy of my father. I see my mother's disappearance. I see a coward, too afraid to stand up to either parent. So he runs.

"You're kind," Alex says, as if he's reading my thoughts. "You're generous and caring. And you have always-"

"Do we have to do this?" I ask, running a hand down my face again. I roll my head back toward him and meet his stare. "I know what you see. And I don't see it."

His eyebrows draw down again. "What brought this on? What got you thinking this way?"

I look away from him. I don't want him to look at the letter Aunt Viv sent but he'd never buy it if I tell him I just started thinking about it.

"My aunt never knew about the shit Dad did when I was growing up. Cause Mom hid it from her. But she found out a while ago… and Mom lied to her. Said that she'd taken me with her. But Aunt Viv found out the truth right before Christmas. You know, when I drove my mom out of Dryden?" I look toward Alex at that and he nods. "Yeah, we went up to my aunt's place and crashed for a few days. Mom was still there when I left."

Alex runs his thumb over the back of my hand again. "I'm sorry."

"Did I tell you why she left?" I ask, holding his stare now. I think I need to see the look on his face when I tell him this. "She was pregnant. So she left to start a brand new life. One I wasn't invited to be a part of."

Alex's grip tightens again. The breath he lets out is shaky. "Dash, that's really heavy. Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrug. "I don't know. It happened before Christmas and then the shit with my dad and… then we were with your family. There just wasn't a good time."

"I understand. But you can always tell me any of this stuff whenever," he says, letting out a quiet breath in the silence. "That package you didn't want to open downstairs… that was from your aunt, wasn't it?"

I move my wrist beneath the covers. Feel the leather against my skin. "Yeah, it was."

Alex is quiet and I almost wait him out — almost hold my breath until he speaks. But we both know what he's going to ask, so I beat him to the punch instead.

"She wrote me this letter basically telling me that… that my parents were assholes. That I deserved better," I say, the tightness still in my chest.

"You did. You still do."

I blow out a breath, disturbing the hair on my forehead with it. "Maybe."

"Not maybe. It's the truth." He squeezes my hand again when I won't look at him. "Dash, hey. Come on, you know you're not-"

He lets go of me when I pull my hand from his. I make myself look at him even though I'd rather just roll over and ignore him until he goes away.

"Look, I get it. Everyone keeps telling me that I didn't deserve that and I know it's supposed to help but it doesn't. It happened and I'll get over it but this isn't helping right now." I swallow hard in the silence. "I've got school tomorrow so… I think I should sleep."

Alex's eyebrows are drawn down but he gives me a nod. "I can stay with you tonight if you want."

"I don't," I say, shifting my stare to the ceiling again. "I'm fine. I just want to sleep this off."

"Okay… if you're sure," Alex says. He stays where he is even after I nod. But I wait him out and he gets up from my mattress. "Alright. If you change your mind, I'm downstairs. You can always come get me. Okay?"

I nod again but he doesn't budge so I look to him. "Okay."

His eyebrows are pinched together and he reaches out to me, brushing his knuckles against my cheek. I close my eyes to his touch, a quiet breath escaping me.

"I won't pretend that I know anything your parents might have said to you growing up. But you should know that you're not bad. You're good, Dash. You've always been good," he says, almost whispering now. "And I will always love you. Nothing that you do can ever take that away. I hope you know that."

His touch leaves me then and I lay in silence, warmth prickling behind my eyes as he crosses my bedroom floor. He gets to my door and I open my eyes, keeping my stare on the ceiling and willing the tears not to escape just yet. Not until I'm alone again.

"Goodnight, Dash. Sleep well," Alex says, clicking the light off before he opens my door. For a moment, I'm flooded with the light coming in from the landing but he closes the door behind him, shutting me away in darkness. And laying here in the dark, tears stinging my eyes and emotion ripping me to shreds inside, I can almost pretend that I'm still home. That Mom never left. That I'm sporting bruises and dodging questions and telling everyone that everything is fine while I'm dying inside.

And that small, sick part of me wishes that it wasn't pretend.

---

I try to sleep but this darkness in me isn't the kind I can slip into. It leaves me feeling raw. And no amount of sleep can fix it. So I pull back my blankets and reluctantly slip from the warmth.

I dress in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, slipping a hoodie on before I leave my room. My shoes are still by the front door so I creep downstairs as quietly as I can. Unlike my old house, these stairs don't creak. I step down into the living room undetected. And their bedroom door is closed, making it easy as hell to slip out the front door without waking either Alex or Kendra.

My feet are freezing as I stand out on the front porch long enough to put my shoes on. When I shut myself inside my car, I turn the heat on high and warm my hands in front of it. I should probably get some gloves at some point cause it takes my hands two decades to warm up in the heat of my car. God, when will winter end here?

It's been forever since I went driving around just to get out of my head. I'm not sure where to go. So I just drive through the neighborhood, crawling down each street until I'm two streets away. Idling in front of Kwan's house. His car's in the driveway. I guess Keith must've dropped him off already.

I almost turn my engine off. Almost text Kwan and ask to crash in his room for the night. But it's been a long time since I asked that of him. And he's been so busy with Keith lately, I don't want to take up more of his time. Don't wanna add anything else on his shoulders.

I pull away from Kwan's house and continue through the neighborhood. Houses I don't recognize pass by and I keep driving until our neighborhood gives way to an open park. Children's jungle gyms and swings are on one side of the park and a basketball court is on the other. Chain link fencing runs around the border of the park, a simple latch at the gate. And it's like I'm vividly slammed back to ten years old.

Kwan and I would ride our bikes home from school together, stash our backpacks at his house, and grab a basketball. Bike the mile over to this court. Shoot hoops even though we were already both more interested in football. God, I remember this place. I remember the ice cream truck driving down this street exactly at four o'clock, less than twenty minutes after we got here most days. We'd spend our leftover lunch money on creamsicles and drumsticks before finishing our game.

I remember our sticky, sweaty hands passing the ball back and forth as the sun dipped low in the sky. I remember racing back to his house — washing our hands and faces with the water from the garden hose in his backyard before Kwan's dad could get home from work and yell at us for eating ice cream before dinner.

Some nights I'd stay for dinner but most nights I chased the sunset back home. To a place where there was rarely any ice cream and never a reason to laugh like I did with Kwan.

Fuck.

I coast to a stop in front of the park and cut my engine. I sit in the driver's seat, staring out at the court and wishing I had a basketball here. But watching from my car doesn't feel right. So I get out, tuck my keys into my pocket, and walk up the sidewalk leading into the park.

The gate's quiet when I swing it open and I guess the city must have kept this place pretty well maintained cause I remember when there wasn't even a gate here. And even with the snowfall still settled on the ground I can tell the court's been kept up with, too.

My chest aches as I come to a stop in the middle of the court, staring up at the hoop Kwan and I used to shoot a ball into every day for weeks. I remember entire summers spent here. We'd bike to the gas station up the road and fill up on potato chips and candy, chugging soda on the bike ride back. Fuck, that feels like an entirely different lifetime.

I start down the length of the court but I break into a run quickly, jumping into the air and miming a throw toward the hoop. But without a ball in my hands, it feels pointless. When my heels land on the court again, I stay where I am. Stare up at the hoop. Until it starts to snow again, big flakes coming down in a frenzied swirl and I realize how cold I really am standing out here.

My car's still warm when I get back into the driver's seat and I start the engine, turning up the heat. I stare out at the court again, wondering if it'd be worth it to get a basketball. I live five minutes from here now. Would it be the same as it was then?

I'm not sure how long I sit there, staring at the court, but the sun's just started to rise when my phone lights up with a text. The screen illuminates the half-darkness of my car.

Alex's name is on the notification and I hesitate on opening his text. I'm not sure if I'm ready to go home yet.

From: Alex

Hey, did you leave early for school?

School doesn't start for another hour and a half. I can't keep aimlessly driving around. I might as well go home. Get some breakfast and coffee.

To: Alex

No, went for a drive. Headed home now.

I watch the text send to Alex before I pull away from the park, this feeling deep in my gut telling me that this isn't the last time I'll come here. Maybe I'll bring Kwan next time. Maybe we'll pretend like we're kids again. Play ball just to forget the shit we have waiting for us back home.

---

I'm two houses down from mine when I see it — him. A police cruiser's parked on the street, the driver watching the house. His hands are wrapped around his gun, his stare intent on the house. And when he pauses, his gaze slides toward mine. Same blue eyes.

I slam on my brakes at the sound of someone's horn. And I whip my gaze from the parked cruiser to the car I almost crushed the front of. Holy fuck.

He's gone when I look back to the cruiser. It's not my father in the driver's seat anymore. It's a female cop, the same as her partner in the passenger seat. Oh fuck… I imagined it?

The other driver lays on the horn again so I pull past the cruiser to give them space to move. They speed past me and I do the shameful hand of apology as they leave. Both of the officers are staring at me as I creep my car forward. I can't handle more than a glance in their direction, my heartbeat slamming around against my ribcage.

I ease my car forward until I can pull into the driveway, sitting on the other side of Alex's car. I idle in the driveway, listening to the hammering of my own heart for a few minutes. I'm not sure if I even plan on moving until the front door opens.

Alex fills the doorway and he watches me through the screen door. So I steel myself for the brave face I'm gonna have to put on and cut my engine off. It's just as frigid outside as before and I embrace it, hoping it chases away some of that panic from moments ago.

"Hey," Alex greets, pushing open the screen door when I'm close enough. He steps back to let me in and waits while I brush the snow from my coat. "Why'd you go for a drive?"

I kick my shoes off but leave my coat on. "Couldn't sleep."

"At all?" Alex frowns when I look up at him with a nod.

"It's fine. I do this all the time," I say, stepping past him as I let out a breath. "Have you made coffee yet?"

Alex closes the front door before he follows me across the living room. "It's brewing now. Do you want to stay home from school today? Catch up on your rest?"

It's tempting. But I'm afraid that the second I close my eyes, my father's face is all I'll be able to see.

"No, I'm okay." I glance at him over my shoulder before I continue into the kitchen. "I've got a paper due today. It's better I just go in."

"Okay. If you're sure," Alex says, letting out a breath in the quiet. "Do you want me to make you breakfast? I can make you some eggs."

I glance toward the coffee pot but he must have just started it because it's barely past the two-cup line. "Sure. Sounds good."

Alex steps past me, patting me on the shoulder before he continues into the kitchen. He's just taken a frying pan out of the cabinet when I change my mind.

"Actually, you made me something else the other day. I forget what you called it… it was like… it was some kind of oatmeal or something?" I say, completely blanking on the name.

He gives me a smile. "Avena, yeah. I can make you some of that instead."

I watch as he puts the pan back in the cabinet, swapping it out for a pot before I speak. "Do you want any help?"

"No, I've got it. You just go sit down, it'll only take a minute," he says, glancing over his shoulder at me before setting the pot on the ground.

I shed my coat and drape it over one of the stools by the kitchen island. I try to sit at the kitchen island and forget what I saw coming into the neighborhood. But his face won't go away. And the longer I sit here, the more it fucks with me. The more it twists my gut and tears the breath from my lungs. So I leave my stool, not looking Alex's way as I leave the kitchen.

"Give me a second," I mumble when he calls my name. He doesn't try to stop me and I make it up the stairs and into my bedroom before the panicked breaths rattle me. I grit my teeth, squeeze my eyes closed. Grab fistfuls of my hair — anything to calm myself down.

It doesn't work. I still end up on my knees at the foot of my bed, begging the anxiety rattling around inside to just set me free. I try to hold my breath the way Nik told me to at the cabin but I can't hold my breath long enough to squash the panic. Can't slow my breathing down at all.

I rest my forehead against my cold bedframe and squeeze my eyes closed. I replay moments with Danny in my head. The way his hands look on the steering wheel of his Equus. Walking around the fair with him on my birthday. Carrying him inside Star's beach house when he was completely wasted. Kissing him in the shower. At my… my old house. Fuck.

I squeeze my eyes closed tighter, remembering the grin on his face when I first saw his earrings. How tightly he held me the night Dad was shot. Memories of him work like a balm to my gnawing anxiety. It doesn't take away the panic but it eases it enough to let me breathe. And I sink down on my floor, conjuring up memory after memory of him until the taste of panic is far from me.

---

I can hear Alex talking downstairs and I guess Kendra must be awake. I get up from the floor and I take a step away from my bed. The leather bracelet slides down from where I pushed it up on my arm, settling around my wrist now. I only look at it for a second before I'm kneeling in front of my bed again, digging out that package Aunt Viv sent me.

I've just copied her number into my phone when Alex calls from downstairs. I push the package back under my bed before I start out of my room, one-handedly typing as I walk down the stairs.

Kendra's sitting at the island now, too. She's got a sleepy grin on her face as she watches Alex move around the kitchen. I move my coat from the back of the chair to the floor before I settle into the chair.

"Hey, good morning," Kendra greets me, turning to me with a smile. "How'd you sleep?"

I start to lie but Alex beats me to the punch.

"Apparently, he didn't." He turns back toward us with a frown as he slides a bowl in front of us both. His gaze lingers on me. "You're sure you don't want to stay home from school today?"

I shake my head, taking the spoon when he holds it out toward me. "No. I told you, I've got a paper I'm supposed to turn in."

Alex shrugs before he turns back to the counter. He brings his own bowl and spoon to the kitchen island and joins us on the opposite side. "If it was me, I'd stay home. Paper or not."

I swallow down a lump of oatmeal and despite the anxiety still picking at me, I speak. "Well… I-I was… moved to advanced English s-so… I'd rather turn things in on time. At least for a little while."

Alex looks up at me, his lips parted, eyebrows high on his forehead. Kendra speaks first.

"You did? Dash, that's amazing, congratulations." She grins when I turn to look at her and places her hand on my shoulder. "Seriously, I'm so proud of you."

I feel the heat on my face. "Thank you."

"That's incredible," Alex's voice is soft when he says it but the smile he gives me is broad. Kindness shines in his eyes. "When were you moved?"

"Last week," I say, dropping my stare to the oatmeal again.

Alex makes a soft noise, the clinking of his spoon against his bowl disturbing the quiet. "Really? Why didn't you tell us?"

I don't know that I want to say it out loud. But I think this is the kind of shit I'm supposed to say. I think that saying it out loud will keep it from staying trapped inside me like everything else. "I was kind of waiting to make sure it wasn't a mistake and that I… actually belonged there."

"Why wouldn't you?" Alex asks, a frown pulling his eyebrows together when I look up at him.

It's hard to explain. I've seen my test scores and grades on my papers — I know I'm good at English. But being good at something and being good enough for an advanced class are two different things. And… Mom always seemed surprised when I brought home good grades and report cards.

"I don't know. I guess I've always thought that kids in advanced classes were like crazy smart," I say.

Kendra makes a soft noise, placing her hand on my arm again. "Well, I happen to think you're very intelligent. And I'm proud of you — advanced class or not. Some of my favorite students were in both advanced and regular classes."

I look at her at that but her gaze is quick to return to her oatmeal as she pulls her hand from my arm. I almost don't ask, almost take the uncomfortable silence as a hint to steer clear of that topic. But I ask anyway.

"You're a teacher?"

She lets out a quiet breath, looking toward me as she shakes her head. "Not anymore. I was, but… it didn't work out."

I look at Alex but his gaze is on his bowl now, too. He's stirring his oatmeal but he's not eating. I want to push this. I want to beg for the answers to all the shit they're keeping from me. But it's not my place. It's never been.

I finish up the last of my oatmeal in silence and I don't think either Kendra or Alex take another bite. But I leave my stool anyway.

"I'm gonna go pack my books into my backpack and come down for coffee when I'm done," I say, crossing the room over to the kitchen to rinse out my bowl before I stack it in the dishwasher.

Neither of them says anything to me as I leave the kitchen. I get halfway up the stairs before I pause, listening to the heavy silence still blanketing the kitchen. Just when I think they're not going to break the silence, I hear Alex's voice, his tone soft as he speaks.

"You know that if you wanted to go back, I'd support you," Alex says, making a soft noise at her silence. "Kendra, it's okay, baby."

"I just don't know if we're ready for that yet. Do you really think we can go back there?" she asks, voice barely above a whisper on the question. "Do you think… do you honestly think you can handle it if I go back there?"

I lean against the wall, my heart hammering in my chest as I listen for Alex's voice. I hold my breath when Kendra lets out a sigh that's heavy as fuck.

"Baby… I've already been back there. I've been going to watch the Ravens play since last year," he says, continuing despite the noise she makes. "Dash is the quarterback. I… I couldn't not go. He needed to see a familiar face in the crowd for once."

She's quiet and Alex continues.

"It's not easy. I don't know that I'll ever be there and not feel… not remember it. But it's gotten better," he says, exhaling quietly. "It's been months since I've had a panic attack there."

She makes another noise and this time, it's too close to a sob for me to handle. I continue up the stairs as quietly as possible and shut myself away in my room. I want to go back down the stairs and listen as they unwind their pain together but if they wanted to tell me, they would. I don't want to hear this from listening in.

I chuck my books into my backpack and zip it closed. It's still early so I sit on the end of my bed and click my phone screen on. I start a little when I see the half-written message to Aunt Viv. Shit, I completely forgot I was gonna text her.

I chew my thumbnail as I read over what I've already written to her before I take the plunge and finish the message.

To: Aunt Vivian

Hey Aunt Viv, it's Dash. Thank you for the Christmas gifts you sent, I really appreciate it. Sorry this is late but I just got the package.

It's short and doesn't say what I wanted to but it's a start. And knowing me I'll stare at it until it starts to sound moronic so I close out of her messages and leave my bed. I'm still in my shoes and my jacket's downstairs, so I don my backpack and start down the stairs again.

I'm purposefully loud as I come down the stairs. I don't want to interrupt Alex or Kendra in the middle of anything intense so I make sure that they hear me coming.

"Hey, kiddo. The coffee just finished brewing," Alex says, giving me a smile when I come into the kitchen.

"Cool, thanks," I say, looking away from him as I ditch my backpack by my jacket. Kendra doesn't look at me so I don't let my stare linger on her too long.

Alex leaves his stool as I'm pouring my coffee into a travel mug. He steps past me to rinse his bowl out and I steal a glance toward him. He looks exhausted, hair sticking up in wild directions, and dark circles under his eyes. I wish I knew what happened between them all those years ago. And I wish I could fix it for them.

But I can't. I'm just a kid. And something tells me that even if I tried, it wouldn't make a difference. This feels like something they have to fix themselves.

---

Aunt Vivian texts me back just after I pull out of the driveway, her name lighting up on my screen. I briefly glance at the message preview before it disappears. I wait to read it until I'm at a red light.

From: Aunt Vivian

Hey, Dash! I'm glad you enjoyed the gifts.

I'd love to call you when you have the chance. Let me know if there's a good time for you and I'll give you a ring.

It's still early before school. I call her as soon as I've parked my car near the front of the school building. The call rings twice before she answers.

"Hey, Aunt Viv," I say.

She makes a soft noise. "Dash! Hey, honey. How've you been doing?"

I unbuckle my seatbelt with one hand. "I've been good actually."

"Oh, that's so good to hear. The people you're staying with, they treat you well?" she asks and even through the phone, I can hear the slight hesitancy in the question.

I smile, nodding even though she can't see me. "Yeah, they're… they're so great. Maybe you can meet them someday."

"I would absolutely love to," she says, continuing before I can say anything. "So how's school been? And that girlfriend of yours — are the two of you still dating?"

At first, the question makes me smile. And then there's this fear in the pit of my stomach that she's gonna go away if I'm honest. Part of me wants to lie. Pretend that I'm still seeing girls. But the bigger part of me knows that if I lie now, I'll spend the rest of my life lying to her.

"No, we broke up a while ago. I've actually started dating someone new. I think… I think you'd really like him," I say. I try to convince myself I'm not waiting on her answer but I'm holding my breath.

Aunt Vivian lets out a noise of surprise. "Him? I didn't know you were dating boys. Is that something new?"

"Y-Yeah, it's uhh… it's kind of new, I guess? He's the… um, Danny's the first," I say, my face burning in the silence. I feel like I should say something more but I don't have anything else to say.

"Ahh, I see. Well, more power to you — you know, I experimented in college, right? Did your mother tell you that?"

That throws me for a complete fucking loop. Not only did Mom definitely never tell me that, Aunt Vivian's probably the last person I expected to hear that from.

"No, I don't think she ever mentioned that."

"Oh, of course she didn't. Our parents didn't approve of me dating women, I doubt your mother did either," Aunt Vivian says with a quiet laugh. She continues at my silence. "If I were you, I wouldn't tell your mother that you're dating a boy. I don't think she'd be very receptive and I'd hate for you to hear something ugly from her. You… well, you know how she can be."

I let out a breath, flicking my stare to the roof of my car. "Yeah, I do. And uhh… thanks for the heads up but I'm not talking to my mom anymore."

"At all?" Aunt Viv asks.

I let my eyes fall closed, shaking my head even though she can't see me. "No, not at all. We haven't spoken since I dropped her off at your place." I shouldn't ask but I do anyway. "Is she still with you?"

She makes a noise, something caught between a scoff and disgust. "No. I love your mother, she's my sister and that'll never change. But the way she's treated you is too much. It's… there's nothing she can do to make up for it."

It's weird to hear Aunt Vivian talk like that about Mom. It's the same way it felt reading her letter last night. It's been bouncing around in my head for weeks now, that Mom doesn't deserve a second chance — neither of my parents do. But to hear Aunt Viv not only confirm it but support the decision, I… I don't know. It feels like that door's finally closing, no matter how many times I almost want to push it back open.

---

Cars pull in around mine as I nurse my coffee and talk to Aunt Vivian. When I recognize a few teachers heading up the front walk, I tell Aunt Vivian I'll call her again soon and head inside.

Blake's already in social studies when I get to the classroom, the only one in there. Not even Mr. Reynolds is here yet. It's still early as fuck, there's another thirty minutes before class is even supposed to start.

"Hey," I greet as I approach my desk. He looks up as I drop my backpack beside my desk but he won't meet my stare. And he's quick to look away from my general direction. I sink down in my chair, exhaustion making my eyelids heavy. "What's up?"

Blake lifts one shoulder in a shrug, bouncing one of his legs beneath his desk as his gaze shifts out the window on his right. I watch him watch the sky for a few seconds before I break the silence.

"You know, you're here kind of early. Is everything okay?"

He lets out a quiet breath but he finally looks at me, his eyebrows pinched together. "I don't know."

Huh?

"What do you mean?"

Blake drops his stare from me, shaking his head a little. "I don't know, my parents… they haven't said a word to me since I got home yesterday. It's just… it's been weird."

"My parents have done the silent treatment thing before." I nod when he looks up at me. I try to go for a joke to ease the tension. "Just ride it out. Honestly, they're probably thinking up a creative way to punish you this time."

He nods, looking out the window again. "Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of."

I don't get a chance to ask him what he means by that before another student joins us in the classroom. I know Blake would never talk about this shit in front of anyone else, so I fall silent, doodling in the back of my notebook to pass the time.

---

Blake stays subdued during our chemistry class but he says he'll see me at lunch when class ends. I hover in the classroom for as long as possible so no one will see me slip into English class. I'm the last one in the room and Mr. Lancer looks up at me just as the bell rings. He gives me a smile.

"Dash, welcome back. Could you close the door behind you?" He stands from his desk as I push the door closed. "Do you have your paper?"

I nod, stepping closer to his desk to hand it off.

"Excellent, thank you. Please take your seat," he says, gesturing to the desks.

I take my seat next to Nik, returning the smile he gives me before my gaze drifts back toward Mr. Lancer.

His gaze falls on my paper and I see him scan the opening paragraph before he drops the paper onto his desk. He looks up at all of us, clapping his hands together. "Alright, class. Does anyone have anything they'd like to discuss about the essay I assigned for reading on Friday?"

Clay raises his hand first and Mr. Lancer nods toward him. "I thought it was written kind of oddly."

"Can you elaborate on that?" Mr. Lancer asks.

"Yeah, so I feel like the author was trying to cover all his bases here and talk about a wide range of topics and it just… I don't know. The whole essay felt choppy and the timeline of the events were written out of order."

Mr. Lancer makes a soft noise. "Do you have an idea of why these events might have been written out of order?"

Nik's hand is in the air before Mr. Lancer's finished asking the question. When Clay shrugs, Mr. Lancer nods to Nik. "Go ahead, Nik."

"I'm just gonna say this bluntly — the author was going insane." He looks to Clay at that. "The reason the timeline was out of order and why he was writing about so many different things all at once is because he was losing his mind. This piece was written at the peak of his mind unraveling and according to the journal his wife kept on his condition, this piece was actually one of his very last."

"You've done your research," Mr. Lancer says, a note of admiration in his tone.

Nik nods. "Yeah, I have. I also recognize when someone's unraveling, having been there myself."

My breath catches in my throat but no one in the room reacts. Mr. Lancer simply nods and his gaze moves to the rest of us in the room.

"Anyone else have anything to add about this piece?" he asks.

I drop my gaze when he looks at me. I'm not sure I could add anything to this conversation. Like Clay, I didn't really get that the author was going insane. It felt odd to me, too.

"Yes, Alice?" Mr. Lancer asks and I raise my stare from my desk, toward the girl in black on the other side of Nik.

She clears her throat, tapping her pencil against her desk with one hand. "I see Nik's point but I also feel like maybe he treated this piece less like a journal entry and more like a letter. I think it's a letter to his wife. I mean, the way he describes the aching and the longing within him aren't exactly words you'd want someone else to read. Not unless they knew you as well as your partner should."

"I agree with you. It's long been rumored that the author's wife kept a private journal of his and only after her death did certain pieces begin to circulate to the public. Some even say he was buried with a book bound in cloth that no one ever read," Mr. Lancer says, nodding as his gaze shifts around the room. "Any last takers?"

We're all silent so Mr. Lancer stands from his desk chair. "Alright then. Let's move on to today's reading then. Dash, could you give me a hand passing these out?"

"Sure." I leave my chair and take the stack of papers that Mr. Lancer holds out to me.

Once everyone has their page, I return to my desk and settle in to read the essay he's prepared for us today. And for once, I understand it my first read-through. I can't help but grin to myself as I write out the response I know is gonna get me an A.

---

It seems longer than a few hours since I've seen Danny when I see him leaning against the wall outside the cafeteria doors. His gaze is on his phone, features set in a frown, but he looks up when I approach him.

"Hey," he greets me when I'm close enough. He gives me a smile as he pockets his phone. "How's your day been?"

I stop in front of him, unable to keep the smile off my face in return. "Not bad. I didn't do as badly on my History paper as I thought."

"Good!" Danny praises, taking my hand in his. He leans closer to me, still smiling. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too," I mumble as I close the distance between us, pressing my lips to his. I try not to be afraid of someone seeing us. But my mind conjures up Nik's face as I pull away from Danny.

I let out a quiet breath, meeting Danny's stare. "S-So… how was your day?"

"Ehh… we gotta talk," he says, leading me by the hand into the cafeteria. He waits until we're both in line, trays in hand before he turns back to me with a frown. "My mom's insisting on you coming over tomorrow night. She wants you to have dinner with us and officially meet them as my boyfriend."

Fuck. I love the way he says that word. And I almost miss the weight of this dinner, grinning at the sound of that word replaying over in my mind.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, the momentary joy fading quickly at the frown Danny gives me. Oh, right… shit. "Should I like… do you want me to come up with an excuse to get out of it?"

He lets out a breath. "No. She'll see right through that and it's better if we just get it over with."

"I'm sorry," I say, continuing when he shrugs. "Seriously, I am. And you should know that… I don't care what they say about me. If your parents don't like me, it's okay. You like me and that's enough."

Danny lets out a groan as we move forward in the line. "My dad already likes you. He keeps saying that you're good for me. But my mom… it's like she has to fight me on everything. Keeps saying shit to try to make me doubt this thing I have with you."

"What kind of things does she say?" I ask.

He looks back at me, letting out a sigh. "Nothing. Just stupid shit."

When he turns around, the line's moved forward. We both get our food in silence and when we're finished, he speaks again.

"Anyway… I'm sorry in advance for whatever she says to you tomorrow." Danny gives me a frown when I shrug. "Seriously. You've heard enough bad shit about yourself to last a lifetime. I don't want my family to be another source of it for you."

"Hey." I take his hand in mine, squeezing gently until he holds my gaze. "It's okay. Let's just have lunch and talk about anything other than our families, okay?"

He lets out a quiet breath but gives in with a nod. And I lead him over to our table. Paulina's sitting on one end of the bench but she slides down when Danny and I approach the table. She flashes me a smile.

"Hey. How's your morning been, guys?" Her gaze shifts between the two of us.

Danny shrugs, setting his tray down on the table before he sinks onto the bench next to Paulina. I slide in next to him, glancing to the other end of the table where Blake's sitting next to Jeff. His gaze is set away from the rest of us but Jeff's talking to him. I can't hear what he's saying but I can tell not a word of it's getting to Blake.

Jeff's attention's pulled from Blake when Derek sinks down on the bench next to him.

"Hey," Derek greets, nodding to Jeff before his gaze moves to me and Danny. "I flunked a pop quiz last week and my biology teacher is making me write an essay to make up for it."

"Ugh, that sucks," Danny says. He spears a strawberry from his tray and I watch it disappear into his mouth before I look back to Derek.

"Where's Nik?"

Derek places a hand over his chest, a quiet, insulted noise leaving him. "What? I'm not enough company for you?" He grins before I can say anything, shaking his head. "Nah, he's on his way. His dad called him."

"Oh. Is everything okay?" I ask.

He nods, scooping up a forkful of macaroni. I drop my stare to my own food and our table falls relatively quiet as we eat. I can't keep myself from looking down the table toward Blake again, the lack of food in front of him obvious. It makes my stomach twist and I wonder how no one else is noticing. Or have they noticed and chose not to ask? Do any of them even realize this is a pattern?

"Hey, hey," Nik says, sliding onto the end of the bench next to Derek. His tray bumps against Derek's as he tears the wrapper from his fork. He scoops up a few bites of macaroni before he speaks. "How are you guys doing?"

"Morning classes are always boring," Paulina says with a quiet sigh. She spears a piece of fruit and chews it delicately with a shrug. "Then again, at least my history paper came back with an A. I think Star got a low mark."

Derek makes a noise, mumbling something about teachers being biased against her.

Nik's gaze shifts down the length of the table as Derek talks and I watch his stare fall where mine's been — at the distinct lack of tray in front of Blake. He glances back at me with a frown and I shrug. His eyebrows pull together before he sets his fork down on the edge of his tray. He leans to the side, reaching down to unzip his backpack. He comes back up with a handful of unopened packages of food we didn't eat today after English.

"Hey, Blake. You want my vending machine raid?" he asks, holding it up to show it.

Blake's stare shifts from watching the cafeteria to Nik, his eyebrows pulling together. His gaze darts to Jeff and back to Nik. "Sure."

His answer surprises me and Nik slides the food down toward Blake. Jeff slides it the rest of the way and Blake rips the top of a Combo's bag open, drawing out a handful and dropping them into his mouth.

"Sometimes the caf food turns my stomach," Nik says, giving Blake a smile. "So, I've always got cash to get something from the vending machines instead, you know?"

Blake nods, his stare on the bag he's holding. He doesn't say anything and if it was me, I'd ask what the fuck is going on. Demand he be honest with me for fucking once. But Nik's not like that. Nik accepts his silence and resumes eating and slowly, everyone else starts having conversations. Only me and Jeff are left watching Blake.

I don't know about Jeff but there's this feeling in the pit of my stomach that whatever's going on with Blake is just beginning.

---

My last class ends fifteen minutes early and I consider waiting around for Danny but I want to go home. Collapse on the couch and watch some trash TV until Alex and Kendra get home. I settle for texting Danny instead, telling him I can't wait to see him tomorrow. I add an 'xo' to the end of my message and get in the front seat of my car.

The low fuel indicator turns on as soon as I turn the key in my engine so I re-route to the gas station closest to the school. Ryder practically purrs as I pull to a stop in front of one of the open pumps. As luck would have it, it's the pump with the broken card machine so I've gotta pay inside. But it's nice out, finally feeling a little warmer outside. So I leave my hoodie in the passenger seat of my car and start up to the gas station.

The sun's just starting to dip downward in the sky, turning the whole world orange as I cross the parking lot. As I open the front door, I catch sight of three guys looking in my direction. They're standing around a pick-up truck and I swear I recognize one of them but I can't pinpoint why.

I shake off the stares as I step inside the gas station and pull my phone out of my pocket. I aim the screen at my face and check my reflection — make sure there's nothing stare-worthy about me right now. But there isn't, the bruises Dad gave me are gone completely now.

"Hey," I greet the guy behind the counter. "Can I get twenty on pump three?"

The guy hits a button on his register, a painfully bored expression on his face. "You got it."

I hand over my debit card and wait while he scans it. When he slides it back across the counter with the receipt, he gives me that same dead-pan stare.

"Have a great day and thanks for choosing Fuel Up for all your gas station needs," he says, nodding to the next customer in line.

I step out of line and head out the door, pocketing my wallet as I go. Those three guys are still by their truck but they're not looking my way anymore, their backs to me.

I start pumping my gas and when there's less than ten dollars left to go, I see those guys from the corner of my eye. They're heading across the parking lot and as the green Hyundai Sonatapulls away from their pump, I'm the only one left out here. They're coming my way.

I square my shoulders, and turn to face them — not leave my back exposed. Like Dad taught me.

"You're Baxter's kid, aren't you?" one of them asks as they come to a stop in front of me. He's the one I recognize.

I glance back at the pump. Seven dollars to go. Probably better to start with honesty.

"Um, yeah," I say, letting out a shaky breath as I look back at them. "Sorry, you guys… friends with him?"

One on the end, shakes his head and the other lets out a quiet breath. But the one in the middle is sneering at me, his teeth showing as he takes a step closer to me.

Six dollars left.

"I fucking knew it. See me and some of the other officers were wondering what could have possibly kept you from coming to see Howard when he was discharged from the hospital," he says, my stomach sinking with every word. "I told them you had to be somewhere else. You must have skipped town — no way would you still be here in Amity Park and not come see your old man."

I swallow hard, chancing another look at the pump. Two dollars to go. Fucking good enough.

"Actually, I-I was out of town when he was… I just got back yesterday," I say, letting go of the pump. My hands shake as I put it back and another lie tumbles out of me. "I'm actually on my way to see him now."

The guy in the middle lets out a scoff and when I look back at him, I realize with a start that it's Officer Hartwood. The officer that nearly arrested me after I set that fire in the woods to burn away Danny's DNA from the ground.

"You expect me to believe that shit?" Hartwood asks, shaking his head at my silence. "I've been by your place to help your dad out. He's told me that your stuff's missing. That you haven't been home."

I swallow hard and fumble for my gas cap, barely spinning it into place before he closes the distance between us. I back up, nearly tripping over the curb surrounding the gas pump.

"I told you already, I'm… I'm on my way to see him now," I say, letting out a breath as I come to a stop at the end of my car.

Hartwood barks out a laugh but one of the other guys speaks before he can.

"Your dad's a hero. And you couldn't spare five minutes to come see him?" he asks, shaking his head at my silence. "You know, he's given so much to this town. And yet… it's like he means nothing to you."

My stomach burns and I can't stop myself from spitting the words at them.

"He might be a hero to you but he's always been a bastard to me. You don't know the shit he's done to his own family," I say, my breath sticking in my throat the silence that falls.

It's like a bomb goes off and for a moment the three of them just stare at me. But Hartwood recovers quickly, closing the distance between us in a second.

His fist connects with my face and there's a sickening crack, instantly followed by fucking searing pain. There's no way my nose isn't broken — holy fuck.

I move backward, dodging his next hit. I've had Dad to avoid my whole life and this guy isn't half as good as he is. I manage to duck his next two hits but that third one gets me. Right in the gut, knocking the breath right from me.

"You trying to smear your pop's fucking good name? He's worked hard to keep this town safe and you expect me to believe that he's treated you like shit?" Hartwood barks.

My gut aches and I want to just collapse on the ground but I know better than that by now. Instinct is the only thing that keeps me on my feet and moving around the side of my car. With one quick movement, I get the passenger door open before he can get to me. And I'm crawling over the center console and into the driver's seat before I've even had time to blink.

Hartwood slams his fist into the center of my car's hood, the sound reverberating inside my car. I ignore it. Jam my key in the ignition.

Blood's running from my face, iron the only thing I can taste, and it's hard to see as I back out of the parking lot. But I can't stop and collect myself, those guys are following my car, Hartwood still yelling after me. But it doesn't matter. I keep my foot stitched to the pedal and haul ass out of that gas station parking lot.

---

Half a mile down the road, the blood's still running from my nose. I keep one hand on the wheel and use my other to grab my hoodie from the passenger seat. I ball it up the best I can and press it to the underside of my nose, trying to stem the flow.

It's all over the back of my hands and on the driver's seat. Steering wheel, too. It's even on the goddamn floor of my car. Fuck.

Why'd Hartwood have to be in my dad's corner? Why couldn't he have just let this go like the other officers have? It's stupid. I'm eighteen, I was going to leave soon anyway. What does it matter if I'm out of there a few months earlier than I planned?

I turn into my neighborhood and with a start, I realize that Alex is gonna flip when he sees me like this. I almost turn around to find somewhere to wash up but… I don't want to go anywhere. Don't want to risk running into those guys again.

I turn before I can get to our street, redirecting my car elsewhere. Onto the street that runs behind our house. I slow to a crawl as I pass by his house but Kwan's car isn't home. Shit, he must be with Keith.

With my last-ditch option gone, I retrace my steps and drive to my house instead. And somebody or something upstairs must be looking out for me because Alex's car isn't in the driveway, and neither is Kendra's. Thank fuck, I'll have a chance to deal with this before either one of them gets home and sees me like this.

I leave my backpack in my car and keep the hoodie pressed to my nose as I go inside, using my key with one hand. Once I'm standing inside, I pull the hoodie away to see if the bleeding will stop. It doesn't, it's still pouring out of me. Shit.

The somebody or something that I thought was looking out for me when I pulled up to the house gives me a giant middle finger as I'm walking through the living room. My phone rings, Alex's name on the screen when I dig it out.

I hit ignore on the call and move into the kitchen, opening up the freezer and digging through the ice container with one hand. I cram a handful of ice between the layers of my hoodie and readjust my hold on it so I'm not pressing the part soaked with my blood against my face.

My phone rings again and I know I can't ignore it this time. He'll know something's wrong. Probably come straight home if I don't answer.

"'Lo?" I mumble as I answer, keeping one hand on my makeshift ice pack.

Alex lets out a quiet breath. "Hey, how was school?"

"Fine," I say, working hard to not sound like my nose is blocked by a bloody ice pack. "H-How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, can't complain. Listen, I'm turning into the neighborhood. Are you home? Cause Anastasia's on her way over — Chuck, too. They're gonna join us for dinner. I'm making Albondigas tapas," Alex says.

"Shit," I breathe out, trying to quickly cover it when he pauses. "Um, that's cool, I uh… yeah."

Alex is quiet for a few seconds. "Are you alright? You sound funny."

There's no avoiding this now. He'll be home in minutes and he'll walk in and see me like this and I… I can't do that to him. Not without some kind of warning.

I let out a breath and try to start gently. "Okay um… don't freak out when you get here, okay?"

"What do you mean? Why would I?"

Fuck, Alex — why'd you have to be on the way home now? Why couldn't you still have been ten minutes out? I could have fixed this. I've had broken bones before. Granted it's been close to seven years since I've had my nose broken but still. I know how to deal with this. And I prefer to do it sans audience.

"There was just this guy and I… he kind of… broke my nose," I say, pulling away the hoodie to check the level of bleeding. It seems like it's stopping but I need to get a look at it. See how badly crooked it is.

Alex swears. "What happened? What guy?"

"I don't know. He was just some guy," I lie, leaving the kitchen as I talk. I cross through the living room and into the downstairs bathroom.

Alex says something in Spanish and I block it out as I pull my hoodie away from my face. And holy fuck, there's a lot of blood smeared across my face. I can't let Alex see me like this. He's gonna insist on taking me to the hospital and I'm not going in for this.

I try to wet the sleeve of my hoodie enough to wipe the blood away but the angle I've got my head at now is making the bleeding worse again. So I end up with the hoodie and ice combo crammed against my face again, water dripping from the sleeve down into the sink.

"-and they can… Dash. Are you hearing me?" Alex asks, letting out a sigh at my silence. "I'm pulling into the driveway now."

He ends the call there and I pull my phone from my ear, watching his name blink at me before it disappears altogether. I hold my breath. Count to ten in my head. And then the front door opens.

"Dash?"

I let out the breath. "In here. The bathroom."

His footsteps are quick across the living room. And when he stops just outside the bathroom door, I don't miss the intake of breath. My hoodie's pretty fucking soaked so I'm not surprised.

"It's not as bad as it looks," I say, looking away from him at his silence. I look at myself in the mirror as I take the hoodie away from my face, hoping to anything that's listening that the bleeding's stopped.

Relief floods through me at the lack of blood coming from my nose. My hoodie's still soaked but at least it's not still free-flowing. I shake the ice — tinged red now — from my hoodie into the sink and wet the sleeve successfully this time.

"Let me see it," Alex says, his voice so soft and gentle on the words, I can't ignore him.

I let out a breath and turn to face him. "It's not that bad."

"Dash, my god." He closes the distance between us, placing one hand under my chin. He turns my face one way and then the other, a grimace on his face. "This is bad."

"It's not," I say, trying to inhale through my nose to test the damage. All I end up doing is inhaling my own blood and choking over it.

Alex lets out a noise and a string of Spanish as I turn away from him, coughing and spitting blood into the sink. Fuck, maybe this is worse than I thought. But I can still fix this.

"I've just gotta clean the blood away," I say, sounding even more blocked and sinus-y now.

He grabs my hand before I can pull the wet sleeve up to my face. "You shouldn't touch it. You should go to the hospital and have it reset."

"No." I pull my arm away from him and look at myself in the mirror, repeating the same words Dad said to me the first time he broke my nose. "It's not that bad."

He also told me not to cry about it but I don't repeat that part out loud. I just gently wipe the still wet blood from under my nose and get the stuff that's begun to dry around my mouth, too. I can already tell the bruising's gonna be killer. Great, I've just finished healing from Dad and now I'll have this bruising to sport.

"I'm serious. You need to have this looked at," Alex says, wincing when I do. "It looks bad."

There's a knock at the front door and Alex swears softly, turning away from me. I turn to watch him go until he disappears around the corner and into the living room. I turn back to the mirror, examining the slant my nose has now. Maybe he's right… maybe I should have this reset.

Anastasia's the one at the door. I can hear the two of them talking in Spanish as their voices get closer to me. Alex calls my name before he comes into the hallway, Anastasia at his side now.

"Who did this?" he asks, frowning when I shrug. "That's not an answer. On the phone, you told me it was some guy. What guy?"

I let out a breath, giving up on the staring contest I've been giving myself. It's not going to magically straighten my nose. "Nobody. I don't know who he was."

Ana's gaze meets mine as I toss the bloody hoodie into the laundry basket on the other side of the sink. I look away from her. Rinse my hands in the sink again. Pretend that she doesn't know that I definitely know who it was.

Alex steps back when I shut off the bathroom light, giving me room to leave.

He and Anastasia follow me into the living room but Alex grabs my arm before I can get any further away.

"Stop. I'm not… I'm not doing this," Alex says. His eyebrows are drawn down, pinched together, when I look at him. "You didn't recognize the guy? Did he say anything to you?"

I must hesitate too long because Alex's eyebrows draw down further.

"What did he say?" he asks, sparing a glance Anastasia's way when she says something in Spanish. He holds her stare for a few seconds before he looks back at me. "By any chance, was it a tall guy? Brown hair?"

I shake my head, wondering who he's describing. "No, he's… he looked older."

"And you're sure you don't know who it is?" Alex asks, giving me an I-call-bullshit look when I nod. "I'm trying to help you. Can you please be honest with me?"

I don't want to be. Not because I want to protect Hartwood or anything, I just don't want to get in the middle of this. I'm done with all the shit that Dad can do to me — especially if he's getting other people to do it for him. I'm not getting in the middle of it anymore.

But… fuck it. I've got a broken fucking nose. I'm already in the middle of whatever this is.

"Alex, he's a cop," I say, my breath catching when he surprises crosses Alex's face. I continue in the silence he gives me. "Before you ask, no. It wasn't my dad."

The words are hard just to speak, that fear flickering to life in my chest again. I haven't been near Dad in over a month. And yet… the terror beats in time with my own heart. It's always a part of me — lives just beneath my skin. Cause there's always a chance that he'll decide that I don't have the right to be away from him. And the things he'd do to me would be a hundred times worse than a broken nose.

"Which cop?" Alex asks, placing his hand on my arm now.

I shake my head, the lie tumbling from me automatically. "I don't know. I didn't recognize him."

He's looking at me like he calls bullshit but I can feel my nose prickling again.

"I need more ice," I say, pulling my arm away from him and moving through the living room again. I hear him say something to Anastasia but I don't catch what it is. And seconds later, they're following me into the kitchen.

The freezer door is still open and I reach into the ice bucket again, taking out a handful of ice before I swing the door shut behind me. I don't remember where Kendra put the kitchen cloths so I cradle the ice in one hand, opening every drawer until I find a stack of washcloths in the drawer next to the sink. I set my pile of ice in the cloth and pinch it closed.

"Hey, squirt," Anastasia says behind me.

I turn to look at her, holding the cloth under my nose gently. She's the only one in the kitchen with me. "What's Alex doing?"

"Probably calling in SWAT to find this guy," she jokes.

"I'm fine, alright?" I say, blowing out a breath when she shrugs. "I don't know why he's not listening to me. It's just a broken nose, I've had it broken before."

She nods. "I have, too. It hurts like a bitch."

Understatement of the fucking century.

I don't know that I want to know the answer to her question but I ask anyway. "Do you agree with him that I should get my nose reset?"

Anastasia lets out a breath, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "I mean… if it was me, I wouldn't wait. It's fucking awful to get your nose reset but when you wait, they gotta rebreak it. And trust me when I say, there's nothing on this earth like that pain."

God. I really don't want to do this. I don't want to take away this evening they've planned.

"After my second break, I learned how to reset it myself so I'd never have to go to the hospital for it again." She shrugs when I look at her. "It's more painful without the anesthetic they have at the hospital but at least I can deal with it from the comfort of my own place. Down painkillers when I'm done."

"Do you think you can reset mine?" I ask.

She meets my stare just as Alex steps into the kitchen. He's putting his phone away in his pocket as he comes to a stop on one end of the kitchen island.

"Alright, Chuck's on his way now. And Kendra should be here any minute so… you're sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" Alex asks, frowning when I look at Anastasia. "Did I miss something?"

She looks at Alex. "Dash wants me to reset his nose."

"Absolutely not," Alex says, talking over her when she tries to respond. "I don't care. No. Mom's told you a hundred times that resetting your own nose was stupid and dangerous — I'm not letting you do that to Dash."

"He doesn't want to go to the hospital and do you really want him to have to deal with a crooked nose for the rest of his life?" Anastasia asks, sighing at Alex's silence. "It only takes a second. You watched me do it to Chuck."

Alex makes a face. "That was different."

"How?"

"Cause Chuck isn't Dash," Alex says, his gaze moving to me. "Tell me you don't really want this, do you?"

I pull the cloth from my face. "I don't want to leave it like this."

"Then let me take you in, please," he says, his gaze shifting between us. "Or at least let me call my mom — she knows how to actually do it."

"Hey, I know how to do it," Anastasia says, raising an eyebrow when he looks at her. "I've reset more noses than Mom has and-"

"No," I say, my voice soft in the quiet. It still shuts Anastasia up instantly. She and Alex turn to look at me so I repeat it. "No, I don't want Tatiana to fix this. If… if Ana thinks she can do it then she can."

He swears again but before he can argue again, the front door opens. Kendra's home.

Alex turns to the sound, letting out a rough sigh. He takes a step away from the island before he looks back at me. His eyebrows draw down before he looks at Ana. "Don't do anything until I get back."

She nods and I watch him leave the kitchen, his voice soft as he calls out to Kendra. I feel Ana's gaze on me so I look to her, pressing the ice pack to my nose again. "Have you really done this before?"

"Scouts honor, squirt," she says, nodding in the silence. "My nose is straight, isn't it?"

It is straight. And it's a better alternative than going to the hospital.

"Just don't send any of my bones up into my brain," I say.

She snorts and it hurts too much to smile. I start to ask her when she reset Chuck's nose but Alex's voice is growing closer along with Kendra's. So I brace myself instead for the reaction I'm about to get.

Kendra makes a soft noise as soon as she sees me and she lets go of Alex's hand, crossing the kitchen to get to me.

"Dash, honey," she says, placing one hand on my face.

I lower the cloth to give her the full look and she winces. "Sorry. It looks worse than it is, for the record."

"When has that ever been true?" Alex asks, blowing out a breath as he gets closer to me. "Are you sure you won't go to the hospital?"

I nod, looking at Ana. "She says she can set my nose."

"That's really… I don't like it," Kendra says, looking at Anastasia as she drops her hand from my face. "Come on, Ana. You really think that it's a good idea?"

Ana shrugs. "He says he wants me to. And you know I've done it before."

"Come on. Let's just get it over with," I say, stepping away from Kendra. I face Anastasia from across the kitchen island. "Can you do it from there?"

Anastasia nods, uncrossing her arms. She takes a step backward, opening the drawer next to the kitchen sink. She gets out a cloth and rolls it up, returning to the island.

"Put this in your mouth. All the way to the back, on your molars, and bite down. Hard, Dash," she instructs, waiting until I put the cloth in my mouth before she continues. "Keep your tongue away from your teeth. Brace your hands against the counter, alright? Don't move."

Kendra makes a noise, turning away from us. "Oh, my god. I can't watch this."

My hands are shaky as I press them flat against the top of the kitchen island. Its surface is cool beneath my touch but my hands are still sweaty just the same.

Ana reaches toward my face, her touch gentle as she places the side of her index finger against one side of my nose and the pad of her thumb against the other side. I hear Alex let out a breath and I feel my own catch in my throat.

"On three, you ready?" she asks, letting out a breath when I nod. "Don't move, here we go. One, two."

She moves her hand quickly on two, the crunching of bone against bone unmistakable in the silence. I know I scream. The pain's so fucking intense, I can't hold it back but the cloth in my mouth absorbs most of the sound. I bite down so hard, my jaws ache. Tears sting my eyes but I look up at Anastasia.

She doesn't move her hand from my face for a few seconds but when she does, she gives me a nod. "You're good. It's straight. Don't touch it."

I spit the cloth from my mouth and onto the island, wanting nothing more than to cradle my nose in my hands. "Holy fuck, oh my god… fuck."

Kendra makes a pained noise, calling my name softly. I can't look at her. I can barely even breathe it hurts so bad.

Alex puts his hand on my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze. "You alright?"

I don't think I let out more than an unintelligible grumble but Alex rubs between my shoulder blades. I blink back most of the tears and I manage to slow my breathing just as Anastasia holds out a cloth toward me.

"You're bleeding again," she says, nodding when I look up at her. "It's normal. It's just the blood that couldn't drain out earlier. One of your nostrils was almost completely blocked."

I take the cloth from her and hold it as gently as I can under my nose. I can tell from the flow that it's not nearly as intense as the first bleed. I lean forward until my elbows can rest on the island, pushing one hand through my hair, holding onto the cloth with the other.

Alex continues rubbing between my shoulder blades. When the blood finally slows, I manage to blink the tears away and rise from my stooped position.

"Come here, kid," Anastasia says as soon as I'm upright. She comes around the kitchen island and pulls me into a hug when she's close enough. The breath she lets out has a little shake to it. "Don't make me do that again."

The laugh I let out is weak. "Yeah, sure. I'll be on the lookout for random punches from now on."

She gives me a look as she pulls away from me but she doesn't get a chance to say anything before a knock sounds at the front door. I look at Alex when he lets out a breath.

"That's Chuck," he says, stepping away from us and moving into the living room.

I watch him go for a few seconds before I turn to look at Ana again, catching Kendra's gaze as I do. She gives me a smile but it's sad.

"I'm sorry. I'm okay though," I say.

Kendra reaches out to me, squeezing my upper arm. "I know. It's still hard to see you like that."

I don't know what to say to that but Kendra looks in the direction Alex went anyway, that same sad smile on her face.

"Listen, be careful for the next couple of days, alright? Don't do anything that could hit you in the face," Anastasia says, continuing when I look at her. "Don't blow your nose for the next forty-eight hours. And no swimming either."

"When the fuck would I go swimming? It's like forty degrees outside," I say.

She rolls her eyes but there's a faint smile on her face. "I'm trying to help you, loser. But it's nice to see that punch didn't rattle your brain — you're still as mouthy as ever."

I can't help the grin even though it hurts like hell. I don't get the chance to come back with another quip before I see Chuck and Alex step into the dining room.

"Dash? Come here," Alex calls.

I leave the kitchen, Kendra and Anastasia trailing after me. Chuck's standing on one side of the table, a folder in his hands. Alex is on the other side of the table, both of their gazes on me.

"Alex says you don't remember the name of the officer that did this to you?" Chuck asks, continuing when I nod. "That's fine."

He steps back from his side of the table, gesturing to the surface of it. There are several rows of photographs spread out on the table, all of different officers. Hartwood stands out in stark contrast to the other photos. Same with the other two that were there in the parking lot.

"Point him out to me." Chuck holds my stare when I look at him.

"Chuck, I… I don't really want to get in the middle of this," I say, glancing from him to the photos again. Chuck's not in the photos. Neither is Dad.

He lets out a breath, his tone gentle. "From the looks of it, you're already in the middle of it. Just tell me who you recognize here and I'll take care of it."

"I don't want to do this," I say, firmer on the words as I meet his stare.

Chuck's eyebrows draw down and his own tone loses that gentleness. "I'm not asking."

"Why do I have to do this? Why can't we just pretend it never happened?"

He looks in Alex's direction before he looks back at me. "Because it did happen. Now who was it?"

"Chuck, I-"

"That's not an answer," he cuts me off with, raising his eyebrows at my silence. "I'm not playing around, Dash. Point him out to me."

This is stupid. And I don't want to tell Chuck a damn thing. But I don't want Hartwood to walk away from this either. And I'm so fucking sick of just taking the shit that people throw at me and not fighting back. It doesn't matter if I admit it now or later, Chuck's not going to stop asking. And I have no damn reason to protect any of the officers that were there.

"Top row, guy in the middle. Hartwood," I say, earning Alex's stare immediately.

He's frowning when I shift my gaze to him. "I thought you said you didn't know his name."

I lift one shoulder in a shrug, turning back to look at Chuck. "There were two others with him. They didn't do anything to me but they didn't stop him either."

"Do you see them here?" Chuck asks, looking at the photos again.

I nod, taking a step closer to touch them. The first one's the tall guy, with blonde hair. Two rows above him is the second one, a short guy, balding.

"These two," I say, tapping them in succession before I look up at Chuck.

He nods, picking up each photograph before he looks back at me. "Thank you for telling me."

It's not like he really gave me much of a choice. But I nod anyway.

"I'm sorry he did this to you." Chuck leans forward to put his hand on my shoulder. "You should never feel like an officer would come after you because of who your father is."

I lift my other shoulder in a shrug, earning a frown from Chuck. "It is what it is."

"No, it isn't. Officers like Hartwood and your father shouldn't get away with this kind of stuff purely because of the badge they wear," Chuck says, a clipped note to his tone when he continues. "I'm working to get as much of this straightened out as I can for now but there's only so much I can do as acting chief. And the officials over my head are in talks about having a temporary replacement assigned to the station until your father's back at work."

It's still fucking wild to think that my dad's not at work right now. This is the same man that wouldn't take a day off for anything. Even when he had the flu one year, Dad downed cold medication and went to the station. I remember all the nights he used to come home late and the little league games he missed cause he was working. The fact that he's just skipping work now is fucking crazy to even consider.

I almost ask about my dad. My mouth opens but nothing comes out and Chuck watches me for a second before he looks to Alex.

"So, dinner? Do you want my help in the kitchen?" he asks, already taking his jacket off.

Alex shakes his head. "No, Kendra and I have got it. You just have a seat with Dash. He and Ana will keep you company."

He turns away from us and I catch the frown on Chuck's face before Ana loops her arm through his, leading him to one of the chairs on the other side of the table.

"Come on, Chucky. It's been too long since I kicked your ass at a game," she says, pointing to one of the chairs. "Sit."

Chuck frowns, turning to look at Ana. "Don't call me that."

Anastasia rolls her eyes. "Fine, fine. But I'm getting some cards — I haven't played Jacks and Tens with you in forever." She glances toward me with a grin. "You sit, too. You're playing."

"Do you even know how to play?" Chuck asks as Ana leaves the room. He turns to watch her go for a second before he looks at me with a frown. "Don't let her talk you into playing if you don't want to. Or feel up to it."

I watch his gaze linger on my nose and I look away. Settle down in the chair across from him. "Nah, I'm good. But you guys might have to walk me through the first game."

Chuck nods, his gaze moving away from me. He turns toward the kitchen, watching Alex and Kendra moving around each other, carrying various pans and dishes.

The silence falls in the dining room and I almost find my nerve. Almost ask about my dad — if Chuck's heard from him. Or if anyone has. I want to know if anyone has any idea where he might be. But I don't ask him a thing. Part of me feels like I can't — like it'll stir up those nightmares if I talk about him. The other part of me, the part that's slowly growing bigger doesn't actually care. So what if Dad's not showing up at work? Why should that take up any space in my head? I've got other things to think about. Other people to give a shit about. People that give a shit about me in return.

Anastasia returns with a deck of cards and I try to push Dad from my mind and focus on the rules of the game as she and Chuck teach it to me. They guide me through a practice hand and when I've got a grasp on it, we play a real hand.

I think Chuck goes easy on me but Anastasia doesn't. She wins all four games we play. Chuck cut her a look after the second game but I told her not to let me win. And she fucking listened.

She starts shuffling the cards for another game but Alex and Kendra start bringing plates and dishes to the table. I leave my chair and start for the kitchen to help carry shit, too. Kendra stops me when I'm only a few steps from the table.

"No, honey. You sit, Alex and I've got this." She gives me a smile and pats my arm but her gaze lingers on my nose.

I want to brush off the concern and go grab some of the dishes anyway. But the expression on her face has me hesitating. "Are you sure? I don't mind, you know."

Kendra shakes her head, reaching up to brush the tips of her fingers along my jawline. It doesn't tickle. It's gentle. And it makes her smile when my face warms. "It's okay. Just sit and we'll eat soon."

That urge to ignore her concern is still pretty strong but I make myself sit instead. She's just trying to look out for me — they both are. It's not their fault that it makes my skin crawl sometimes. It's still just a little too unfamiliar.

Anastasia sits next to me, swiping a glass bottle from the center of the table. She turns to me with a grin. "You should try this."

I look to the bottle in her hand but she's covering the label. "What is it?"

"It's just hot sauce," she says, shifting her hold on the bottle so I can see the label. Something about the imagery on the front unnerves me. There's like a thousand little peppers decorating the bottle and a thermometer gauge with the arrow bursting off the edge, block letters spelling out MAX. Off to one side of the label, there's a depiction of a guy clutching at his hair, his face red, steam pouring from his ears.

I look up at Ana. "Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna try that."

She tsks softly, setting the bottle down on the table. "Come on, just try a little drop."

"I think I'm good," I say.

Ana slides the bottle across the table toward me. She raises an eyebrow at me. "Come on. I triple dog dare you."

"What are you, twelve?"

She slides the bottle closer to me, a wicked grin on her face. "What are you, a baby?"

I try to ignore the way my face has grown warm at the challenge in her tone. I don't really want to try it. But I don't want her to think I'm a baby.

Alex steps into the dining room and slides a bowl piled with steaming meatballs onto the end of the table. His gaze catches mine and he frowns. I wonder what my expression must look like.

Before I can say anything, his gaze moves to Ana and his eyebrows rise. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," she says with a shrug.

Alex looks to the hot sauce bottle in front of me and he's quicker than Anastasia is, snatching it out of her reach just as she lunges for it. "Absolutely not." He looks at me with a frown. "Don't let her bully you into trying things like this."

"She wasn't bullying me," I mumble, my face on fucking fire when Ana laughs. I wait until Alex has turned his back before I flip her the bird. It only makes her laugh harder but it somehow loosens the knot of tension in my chest.

Anastasia bumps her shoulder against mine, giving me that same grin, and I feel like I relax with her. And when Chuck returns to the table and Ana starts teasing him about something that happened when they were in high school, it hits me why she dared me to try that. Why she teases me or why she used to invite me to sit with her on the roof at the garage after a shift. Or why she'd dare me to do stuff like try an extreme hot sauce. I think Ana teases me the same way she does Chuck and Alex. I think she sees me like family. And I think I'd be kidding myself if I didn't admit that I see her the same way.

---

My stomach is aching from laughter at the end of the meal from all the stories they've been telling me and all the quips they've been trading back and forth. When Alex pushes his chair back from the table, the grin he's had all dinner has disappeared from his features.

"Chuck, Ana, I'm glad the both of you could make it tonight. There's something I've been meaning to tell all of you," he says, his stare shifting around the table before he stands from his chair. He gives Kendra a gentle smile. "Nothing serious. Just give me a second, I'll be right back."

Chuck turns to watch him go and I listen to the sound of Alex's footsteps through the hallway and into the living room. I hear the front door open and shut behind him and I catch Ana's stare when I look at her.

"Do you know anything about this?" she asks, nodding when I shake my head. "Me neither. The last time he told me he needed to tell me something was when he'd-"

She cuts herself off there, quickly looking away from me. She shoots Chuck an apologetic look that has him frowning. I don't think he understands what she almost said. And I definitely don't.

"When he told you what?" I try but she just shakes her head, keeping her stare away from me.

The door opens and shuts again but Alex's footsteps sound in the opposite direction. Kendra lifts her napkin from her lap and drops it on the table next to her plate. She turns in her chair to face the entryway to the dining room.

"Alex? Is everything okay?" she calls.

He says something but his voice is too far away to make out. But seconds later, he's headed in our direction instead. He comes into view of the dining room, hands behind his back as his gaze sweeps over all of us. He comes to a stop at the empty chair at the end of the table, letting out a breath.

"Alright. I've thought a lot about this for a long time and… it's time to stop thinking and just start doing," Alex says, letting out a breath that sounds a little shaky to me. He opens his mouth again but nothing comes out. So he closes it again, just shaking his head instead.

He pulls his hands from behind his back, dropping three slightly crushed packs of cigarettes along with two unopened boxes onto the table. He slides his hands into his front pockets and comes back with half a dozen lighters.

"That's all of them. Every pack from my car and the new ones I had in my dresser," he says, looking to Kendra as he says it. He deposits the lighters next to the cartons of cigarettes. "I've decided it's time to quit."

Kendra's expression is pinched but she gets up from her chair, crossing the distance between the two of them to pull him against her chest. She says something to him so quietly that I don't catch what it is. But he smiles before kissing her. He only lets the kiss go on for a few seconds before he pulls away. His gaze returns to the rest of us.

"If any of you see me with a cigarette, please annoy the fuck out of me until I put it out, alright?" Alex asks, his gaze drifting between us.

Chuck lets out a quiet laugh. "You know I'll hold you to that."

"Good. I want you to," Alex says, letting out a quiet breath. "There's another thing…"

He steps away from Kendra, pulling another lighter from his pocket. This one's bigger than the rest. It's bright silver like it's been polished regularly. There's some kind of circular symbol stamped or engraved on the front of it. Alex stares down at it in his palm for a moment before he sets it down on the table in front of Chuck.

Ana draws in a sharp breath, her gaze shifting between Alex and Chuck when I look at her. Her gaze slides to Kendra and I find the same pinched expression on Kendra's face, too. I don't know what the importance of that lighter is. From the tension settling around us, I think it must be pretty damn significant though.

For a few seconds all Chuck does is stare down at the lighter but when he finally looks up, his voice comes out quiet. "You shouldn't give me this."

"Yeah, I should," Alex says, nodding at Chuck's silence. "He was as much a part of your life as he was mine. You should have it."

Chuck shakes his head, sliding it across the table back toward Alex. "No. He gave this to you. He'd want you to keep it."

"He'd want me to quit smoking," Alex says, pushing Chuck's hand still closed around the lighter back across the table. "And if I have that with me all the time, it'll be that much easier for me to continue the habit."

They hold each other's stare for close to a minute before Chuck looks away with a sigh.

Alex squeezes his fist before letting go of Chuck entirely. He looks at Kendra and Anastasia again before his gaze settles on me. A soft smile crosses his features.

"That lighter belonged to my grandfather. He always considered Chuck one of his grandkids, too," he explains, his stare shifting to Ana. "Just so you know, I'm probably going to start annoying you to quit, too."

Anastasia frowns, shaking her head. "Nah. I've still got a few good years left to enjoy that sweet nicotine."

"I'll get Mom to start nagging you," Alex says, grinning at the eye roll he earns from Anastasia.

I think Kendra starts to say something. I cut her off. It's not my place but I ask anyway.

"What happened between you guys?" I ask, looking between Chuck and Alex before I shift my stare to Kendra and Anastasia. "All of you."

Kendra looks away from me. Chuck does, too. But Alex meets my stare. His eyebrows pull together just a little before his gaze shifts to Chuck. He frowns a little before he speaks.

"I don't… I don't think that's a conversation we're ready to have yet, Dash." Alex looks back to me, a note of apology in his gaze. "One day, we'll be ready and I'll tell you all about it. But for now… there are still parts of it we're working through. And I don't think that's something any of us are ready to share."

Chuck nods, his stare on the table. He doesn't say anything but I watch his gaze flit to Alex and away again. Alex sees it and puts his hand on Chuck's shoulder, squeezing once before he lets go. And I'm not sure what passes between them when Alex's stare turns to Kendra but this quiet sigh slips from her and he nods as though that one simple sound tells him everything he needs to know.

I wonder if this is how it's always been between them. Or if I'll ever have that kind of connection with anyone. I wonder if Danny and I will ever read each other's silences the way Alex and Kendra read each other's.

---

Pain is the first thing I register when the sun wakes me. My nose is throbbing but my whole face hurts, too. There's general soreness spreading out across my cheekbones and flaring up into my temple. Oh my god, I forgot how painful a broken nose is.

I dress carefully, easing my shirt on slowly so I don't catch it on my nose, and gingerly shave my face. I don't know if it's the lighting in the bathroom or if it really looks that bad but my nose is awful. The bruising under my eyes is this horrible mix of yellow and green with dark brown under my eyelids. The front of my nose is mottled blue and purple and it hurts to crinkle up my nose or even sniff too deeply. The only bright spot I make myself point out is that at least my nose is straight.

I give up on making the bruises disappear through sheer will alone and head downstairs. I smell something cooking in the air but I can't tell what it is. Smells fucking incredible though.

Alex is at the stove when I step into the kitchen, quiet music spilling from a speaker next to him. He glances toward me, a startled expression flashing across his face before he lets out a shaky breath.

"Hey. Damn, I didn't hear you coming down the stairs." He turns his attention back to whatever he's frying on the stove.

"Oh. Sorry," I say, dropping my backpack by the breakfast bar before I move to join him at the stove. I look at what's in the pan before I see his hand tremble around the spatula. "Did I… did I scare you?"

He makes a soft, considering noise before his gaze flashes to me. "Just a little. It's alright."

I don't know what to say to that. He seems to understand my general loss for words, giving me a gentle smile.

"It's not you. It's just stuff. Left over from… you know, from before." Alex waves the spatula dismissively before he continues stoking the concoction in the frying pan.

There's something weird about his word choice. It pulls at this thread in my mind like we've had this conversation before.

"What do you mean before?"

He glances toward me and away again, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "You know, like when I was younger."

"You mean with Chuck?" I ask, trying to connect the dots of how me startling him in the kitchen reminds him of Chuck.

Alex frowns and shakes his head. "No, not him. Just in general. You know, like growing up around my dad."

"Oh." I still don't see the connection and from the look on Alex's face, I don't think he realizes I've made one. "I… remind you of your dad?"

He frowns again. "What?" He seems to understand my question before I can respond, immediately shaking his head again. "No, you don't remind me of… it's…"

Alex lets out a quiet breath, looking to the frying pan again as he moves the contents inside around. "Has anyone ever talked to you about post-traumatic stress disorder? Or PTSD as most people call it."

It's vaguely familiar.

"I think my mom said that my grandpa had it. Like… after the war or something," I say.

He nods. "Yeah, it's common with soldiers. It's not just a war thing though, anything traumatic can cause someone to develop it." He looks at me now, his eyebrows pinching together. "For me, it was my father."

I'm not sure what to say to that. "Oh. I'm sorry."

Alex waves the spatula dismissively again before he moves the frying pan off the burner and turns the stove off. "It's alright. I've had a pretty bad startle response since I was a child. Growing up with a volatile parent will do that to you."

I don't miss the sympathetic look in his eyes when he looks my way. But I'm not like him — I don't have anything like that.

"Well, I'm sorry it caused that in you," I say, taking a step back from him when that sympathy doesn't leave his eyes. "Anyway. I'm meeting a friend before school so I should run."

Alex frowns. "You're not staying for breakfast?"

I shake my head and look away from him. That sympathy might be disappearing but I can't look at him as I lie. I keep my gaze on my backpack as I pick it up. "Nah. I'll grab some coffee on the way to school."

"Dash, wait." He grabs my sleeve when I sling my backpack onto my shoulder. He's still frowning when my gaze skips to his and away again. "Did I upset you?"

I shake my head. "No, I just forgot I'm supposed to meet someone before school."

"You know, it's a perfectly normal reaction to trauma. If you… if you're wondering if you have it, you should know that it's—"

"I'm not wondering anything," I snap. My tone is sharper than I meant it to be but my pulse is thrumming in my ears and I can't talk about this. Anxiety's enough of a thing for me to have. I'm not looking for some other diagnosis to collect.

Alex doesn't buy my bullshit but I don't care. I pull my arm from his and start out of the kitchen. He follows me, his voice soft as he speaks.

"How's your nose feeling?"

I glance over my shoulder and come to a stop by the end of the stairs where my shoes are. "It's alright. Little sore."

"Yeah, I can imagine." He lets out a quiet breath. "Alright, well. Do you want to take some painkillers before you go? Or at least some aspirin?"

I don't know that I really want any. But I think he wants me to take some. And I don't feel like arguing about something small. So I nod and he tells me to wait there.

I tie the laces on my shoes but don't leave the stairs until Alex is back with the aspirin and a bottle of water. He waits while I swallow the pills before he takes the bottle back. I can tell he wants to ask me something else so I shoulder my backpack and give him a smile.

"See you after school."

Alex follows me over to the door and I step out onto the front porch, carefully avoiding a puddle from last night's rainstorm. He follows me outside but doesn't leave the porch when I drop down onto the sidewalk.

I'm halfway to my car when he speaks.

"I think you should talk to your therapist about this."

His voice is soft and there's no wind or car engines or anything to muffle his sound. Nothing for me to blame on not hearing him. But I pretend I don't. I keep my gaze on my car, digging my keys from my pocket with shaky fingers and unlocking my car.

Alex doesn't say anything more. He lets me get in my car and drive away from all the worry I can still feel coming from him. I don't know how to do this yet. I don't know how to let someone's concern wash over me like that. It's not like it was with Mom and Dad. And I just don't know how to deal with it.

---

I make a stop before school but the pastry I get from Starbucks does little to ease the knot in my stomach. I give up on it a few bites in and chug my coffee instead. At least that doesn't upset my stomach even more.

The parking lots still pretty empty when I pull into a space but I get out of my car anyway. If I sit alone in my car for much longer, I'll start to spiral. Think about all the ways I probably upset Alex by leaving without breakfast.

Blake's already at his desk when I get to our social studies class. He's early again, which is weird. Weirder than it was yesterday. I can't put my finger on why but I wasn't expecting him to be here.

"Hey," I greet, settling down in the chair next to his.

He doesn't even look my way, his leg nervously drumming beneath his desk as he keeps his gaze out the window. His teeth are gnawing at his bottom lip and his eyebrows are pulled together. I want to break the silence he plunges us into but I'm not sure what to say that would ease the tension ballooning out around him.

I move my stare away from Blake to tug my social studies notebook free from my backpack. I drop it on the top of my desk as Blake lets out a breath that's way too shaky. I turn to look at him at the same time he looks away from the window.

"They still haven't said a word to me," he says, barely breathing on the words. His gaze flicks away from mine again. "I-I… I have a long-standing appointment every Tuesday. You know — before school. And they just… canceled it. Without even talking to me, I don't…"

My own breath threatens to stick with the way panic has settled so clearly in Blake. I try to breathe in calm for the both of us. That conversation with Alex this morning ricochets inside my head and I try to push it to the back of my mind.

"Well… maybe they're just giving you the silent treatment," I say, continuing even though Blake shakes his head. "You said the other day that they were probably thinking up a creative punishment for you, right? What if this is it?"

Blake shakes his head again but he doesn't offer up anything in response. I don't know that I have any words to comfort him but I try anyway.

"Look, you've survived everything else they've thrown your way, right? So this is… you'll get through whatever this is, too," I say, trying to keep my voice soft to soothe him but it's not working.

He pushes one hand through his hair, another shaky breath leaving him. Behind me, I hear a few students coming into the classroom, talking quietly with each other. And one glance their way has Blake out of his seat.

"I-I need some air," he half-gasps out, leaving the classroom in a few strides.

My heart jumps in my chest and I leave my seat, too. "Blake, wait."

He's already gone and I can hear his footsteps resounding in the hallway. I sling my backpack on again, sliding my notebook off my desk before I follow Blake out into the hall. He's already at the other end when I step out and I catch sight of him pushing open the front doors.

I jog down the hall and catch the door he left through just before it closes. Blake's already in the parking lot, his backpack abandoned on the grass. He's pacing next to his car, his fingers interlaced behind his head. Even from this distance, I can hear the panicked breaths rattling through him.

For a second, I falter. Standing on the staircase and feeling miles away from him, I almost stay where I am, fear racing through me at his panic. At the thought that it might grab a hold of me, too. Give truth to what Alex tried to suggest in the kitchen this morning. But I know what it's like to be alone in the panic. I can't do that to him.

"Blake," I say softly as I come near, trying not to startle him. He still whirls around like I've yelled, his eyes blown wide.

He lets out a shaky breath and his hands drop from his head. He shakes his head, turning away from me as he braces his forearms against the side of his car. "Dash, I… I can't. It's… they're going to…"

I don't think he even knows what he's saying, his words so jumbled up and shaky. I know that feeling too well. I lean next to him against his car, watching as he dips his head to rest it against the cold window.

"It'll be alright. Whatever happens, you know you have friends here for you."

He gives a short laugh, lifting his head from the window of his car. Shock ripples through me at the tears in his eyes. "What fucking friends would help me with this? Even if I could ask that of someone, who would… there's nothing, Dash. No one to help me and fuck all I can do it about it."

His breathing is still panicked when he looks away from me and I hate that I can't help him. Words are so important in situations like this but I still suck with them. A pang shoots through me, knowing that if Alex were here, he'd know what to say. He's always so calm in these kind of situations.

"You do have people that can help you. I'm here for you, you know that. All you have to do is… you just gotta tell us what you need us to do," I say.

Blake lets out a groan that sounds more like a cry and slams his palms against the side of his car. It startles me and I take a half-step back from him, my heart pounding against my ribcage. My dad's face flashes through my mind, the red of his cheeks as he screamed at me. I wonder when that'll stop. When someone else's anger doesn't conjure up images of Dad.

Blake's eyes are wild when he looks at me. "You don't understand. You couldn't possibly understand."

His anger scares me. I don't know why — Blake's smaller than I am. I could take him if he took a swing at me. Still. The fear lingers at the back of my mind like Blake's anger could summon Dad to this parking lot.

I take a deep breath, expelling some of the shakiness when I exhale. This is about Blake — not me.

"So make me understand then," I say, continuing despite his silence. "Come on, tell me what you're scared of."

He shakes his head, his breathing still just as erratic. In the distance, I hear a car pulling into the lot. I look toward it and relief floods through me at the sight of Jeff's truck. I think he sees us because he pulls down the aisle we're on and parks two spaces down from Blake's car.

Blake looks across the parking lot when Jeff cuts off his engine. I expect relief from him, too but the sight of Jeff getting out of his car only ignites the panic more. He lets out a sound that's definitely closer to a cry this time and steps back from his car.

"Fuck this. I can't."

His hands are shaky as he searches his pockets, depositing a lighter on the hood of his car before he pulls a blunt from a different pocket.

"Blake," I say, like that'll make him stop.

He ignores me, the lighter catching twice before a flame erupts. Blake lights it and extinguishes the flame, his hand shaking as he lifts the blunt to his mouth. He takes a long drag off of it, blowing smoke into the air before it's against his lips again.

I glance around us, scanning the parking lot for any teachers or faculty that might be lingering outside before school starts. "You need to put that out. You're going to get caught."

"You know what, Dash? I really couldn't give a fuck," Blake spits, sucking down more marijuana before he blows a stream of smoke. There's pure anger in his eyes when he looks to me. "They can give me all the fucking detentions in the world. It's not going to compare to whatever the fuck my parents have planned for me."

Jeff's gaze shifts between us as he approaches and without a word, he comes to a stop on the other side of Blake's car. He frowns at the blunt clamped between Blake's lips.

"Everything okay?" he asks, his gaze shifting to me.

Blake blows out a breath, clouds of smoke surrounding him. "Fucking peachy."

Jeff's eyebrows draw together. "What's going on?"

"What the fuck does it look like is going on? I'm having a fucking smoke. It's not national fucking news," Blake spits, sucking in another breath. He must inhale too quickly because he chokes on the smoke, coughing and sputtering as he pulls the blunt from his mouth.

Jeff calls Blake's name, coming around the side of his car now. Blake braces one hand against the side of his car and pounds his chest with the other. A strangled sob bubbles up from him and tears stream down his face. He roughly swipes them away with the back of his hand.

I expect him to return to the blunt still pinched between two fingers but he doesn't. He stands still, blinking rapidly like he's trying to will away the tears in his eyes.

Jeff's stare shifts back to me.

"His… parents still aren't talking to him." My voice is shaky on the words but I continue when Jeff nods. "He's really scared of what that might mean."

Jeff lets out a breath. "Yeah, I can imagine." He takes a step past me to put his hand on Blake's shoulder. Squeezes gently. "Hey, you want to get out of here? We can blow off school for the day."

Blake shakes his head, his breath hitching as he draws it in. "No. I don't… wanna go home, I just—"

"No, I won't take you home," Jeff interrupts him, moving his hand over to Blake's. He tries to pull the blunt from Blake's fingers but he's not quick enough.

Blake moves his hand over on the top of his car. He doesn't take another drag, his breathing slower now than it was before.

"We'll just go out driving. Get something to eat. And you can crash at my place tonight," Jeff tries.

For a moment, Blake's hand twitches like he's going to return the blunt to his mouth. He doesn't, his breathing slowing even more now. "No. If I disappear now, they'll… you have no idea what they could… what they…"

Blake lapses into silence and neither Jeff or I make a move to break it. Not until Blake lifts the blunt to his mouth again, another tear making its way down his cheek. He draws in a deep smoke, sniffling quietly when he pulls it from his lips.

Jeff lets out a breath and moves closer to Blake. He squeezes his shoulder again before wraps his arm around Blake's shoulders. "Come on. Come here."

Blake hesitates for a second before he leans his head against Jeff's shoulder. His posture doesn't change, his fingers still closed around the blunt.

"It'll be alright. We'll figure this out," Jeff says, making what I've been floundering at seem easy. He holds Blake gently and doesn't demand any more answers from him. And it helps — I see the tension drop from Blake's shoulders and his breathing evens out. And I'm jealous of how easy Jeff is doing this.

All he's doing is giving Blake a soft place to land. Somewhere to rest his head and let the panic out. I could never do that. I've never been a soft respite for anyone — not even myself.

---

Blake only lets Jeff hold him for a minute before he's pulling away. He's dry-eyed again but neither one of us are buying the calm exterior he has now.

"You're sure you don't want to get out of here for a few hours?" Jeff asks, watching a car pull down the aisle and park next to his truck before his gaze returns to Blake. "I honestly don't mind taking off with you if you want."

Blake shakes his head. Takes a final drag off his blunt before he stubs it out against the side of his car. "No. I need to get through this day and go home. Find out what my parents have in store for me."

He doesn't look at either one of us as he opens the passenger door, tucking what's left of his blunt underneath the passenger seat. When he closes the door again, the breath he lets out is no longer shaky.

Jeff looks my way before he steps away from Blake's car. I follow suit, taking a few steps away from his car as Blake glances around the parking lot.

"Did I leave my backpack in the classroom?" he asks, looking to me.

I shake my head and nod toward the front doors. "No. You dropped it on the grass on the way out."

He looks to where I've nodded. "Ah. I see it, thanks."

I sling my backpack on my shoulder again and glance Jeff's way before I ask. "Blake… are you sure you're okay?"

"Of course," he says, not looking at me as he starts away from us and toward his backpack.

Jeff lets out a sigh, shaking his head when I look to him. "Just let him go. I'll try to get him to come around my place tonight."

We start toward the building after Blake and I can feel Jeff's gaze on me. When I turn to look at him, he's quick to look away.

"What?" I ask.

He glances my way, letting out a quiet breath. "Sorry. I didn't mean to stare, I just… what the hell happened to your nose, man?"

Oh. That.

"It's nothing. Just… some idiot that thinks my dad's the saint he's always pretended to be," I say, this flush coursing through me at the words. Those officers have only seen the side of Dad he wants them to see. It's not my fault that I know the truth.

Jeff frowns. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." I lift one shoulder in a shrug before I look away from him. Up ahead, Blake's disappeared inside the school building again. "I just… wish the timing of this didn't suck."

"What do you mean?"

I look back to Jeff and try to ignore the way my heart has picked up its pace. "I'm meeting Danny's parents tonight. You know like… officially. As his boyfriend."

"Hey, that's great, man," Jeff says, a smile on his face. "Try not to let the nerves get to you."

I nod. "Yeah, I'm trying. But I wish this hadn't happened."

Jeff frowns when I gesture to my face and he stops at the end of the stairs. "Does it hurt?"

"Sort of. Not as bad as yesterday," I say, continuing at his nod. "I just don't want this to be their first impression of me, you know?"

He shakes his head. "You can come back from a bad first impression with his parents. And if they ask you about it, you can tell them what happened. You shouldn't let someone else's behavior reflect badly on you."

"Yeah," I let out a breath and nod toward the school. "I think I'm gonna go inside. Make sure Blake's doing okay."

Jeff makes a soft noise. "Okay. Text me if he starts feeling bad again."

"Will do." I give Jeff a thumbs up before I go up the stairs and step inside the school again.

Blake's at his desk when I step into the classroom again but so is Mr. Reynolds. He looks up when I step inside so I go to the desk beside Blake in silence. He doesn't look my way and something tells me he wouldn't even read a note if I put it on his desk so I don't.

I spend most of social studies doodling and Blake spends it staring out the window. Something about his rigid posture and checked out expression on his face has me scribbling down a few sentences about this morning. About how the anger in his eyes seemed to dissipate to quiet, resigned suffering as he leaned his head against Jeff's shoulder. How tightly Jeff held on to him — the worry lines etched so deeply on his face. Clouds of marijuana floating up from the three of us as if we were all sharing the blunt along with his pain.

I wish there was something I could say to fix this. Some way to make Blake see that it's not him. It's his stupid parents and soon, he'll be away from them. He'll leave for college and they won't be able to lay a finger on him again.

Like always, the words just won't come to me. And maybe it's because there's something deep in my gut that knows that's not the way this is gonna go down for Blake. Just because I had the chance to escape doesn't mean that Blake will. And it twists my gut to even think about but… there's a chance that Blake'll be stuck with his family for the rest of his life.

---

Danny's waiting outside the cafeteria when I get there. He grins when he sees me but the smile quickly disappears as I get closer.

"I know, it's bad," I say, offering up a smile that admittedly hurts my nose pretty badly. But it's Danny, I can't not smile around him.

"Oh my god, what happened?" he greets me with, his fingers curling around mine when I take his hand. He dodges the kiss I try to give him. "Wait. Dash, what happened?"

I shrug. "It's nothing. Just some guy." I squeeze his hand in mine but he's still frowning. "It was one of my dad's officers."

He winces, his hand squeezing around mine tighter. "Did you… was your dad with him?"

That makes my breath catch. Officer Hartwood decking me was bad. But my father would make that punch seem like child's play.

"No, my dad wasn't with him." I lean forward to kiss Danny and this time, he lets me. I slide my tongue between his teeth and he makes a soft noise before he pulls away. "What?"

He regards my nose carefully, a slightly pained expression on his face. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," I lie. My face flushes when he raises an eyebrow. "Okay, fine. More than a little — but I'm fine, alright? It's not the worst I've ever had."

Danny makes a soft noise. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"Yeah, well. I'm just sorry that this is how it's gonna look tonight," I say.

His brows pull together. "Tonight? What do you mean?"

"With your… I'm coming over for dinner, right?" I ask, briefly wondering if that clock to my face has me completely mixed up on the days.

Danny's eyebrows rise, his mouth opening and closing once. "Oh. Right… um… I almost forgot about that." His cheeks color but he gives me a sheepish smile. "Sorry, yes that's the plan."

I should probably ask him what's on his mind or why he almost forgot about this dinner or tell him about Blake in the parking lot this morning but… his teeth sink into his bottom lip. And he looks up at me with a slow blink. And he's so fucking cute, I can't think about anything beyond the moment his lips meet mine again.

---

Blake doesn't show up at lunch. I text Jeff asking if he's seen Blake but he says they're hanging in the library together. So I put Blake from my mind and focus on Danny. Watching the way his face lights up when he laughs at something dumb our friends say as we wait together in line.

I was hoping everyone would be kind enough not to talk about the ugly bruising across my face but Kwan zeros in on it as soon as he joins us at the table.

"Tell me that's not from your dad," he says, dropping his tray on the table with a loud thump.

My face warms and my breath catches on my inhale. If my dad was the one taking a swing at me, I wouldn't be chilling in the cafeteria — I'd probably be in a hospital somewhere. I try to speak but no sound comes out.

"Dash, tell me that your dad didn't break your fucking nose," Kwan spits, his voice barely above a whisper. At least he's trying somewhat to be discreet.

Keith gives me a sympathetic look that ends with a wince. His stare flicks to Kwan. "Hey, chill." He nudges Kwan with his hip to get him to sit on the bench. He smiles when Kwan does, sinking down next to him. His gaze returns to me with that same sympathy in his eyes. "You don't have to answer that."

"Like hell he doesn't," Kwan snaps, cutting Keith off when he starts to speak. "No. I grew up with Dash — I watched him show up with bruise after bruise that he always brushed off and I let it slide. Even when I knew it was bullshit. It took him way too damn long to get away from his dad so I'm just saying that this had better not be—"

"Kwan," I call, leaning over to punch his arm. There's no real strength behind the move but it earns his attention. Gets him to stop talking about my dad for a second. "Come on, relax. My… he… he didn't do anything, alright? I haven't seen him in months."

Kwan's eyes narrow just a little, like he's trying to decide if I'm bullshitting him. I give him what I hope is a convincing smile but it just makes his eyes narrow more.

"It was just one of his officers. It's no big deal."

He huffs out a sigh. "Oh, right, of course. That's no big deal at all — it's perfectly normal for one of your dad's officers to harass you, right?"

Keith calls Kwan's name but he doesn't look away from me. Danny's hand slides onto my knee beneath the table. He squeezes gently — tries to anchor me to this moment. But I'm not spiraling. I'm getting irritated.

"Hey, I didn't say it was normal," I say, my words coming out with more bite than I mean to. But damn it, he's pissing me off. I didn't ask for this. "It's not like I was hanging around them or anything. The guy took a swing at me in a parking lot."

That stops Kwan, his expression softening. He lets out a gentler breath this time as he reaches his hand across the table to squeeze mine. There's a note of apology in his eyes.

"I'm sorry. I didn't… it just scared me," he says, color rising in his cheeks with the confession.

I squeeze his hand back, my own face warm again. I'm distinctly aware of half of the table watching us. "Why? Cause you thought I'd go hang around him again?"

Kwan nods but after a second, he shakes his head. "No. I don't know. Sometimes I feel like it's just been some kind of dream and I'm going to wake up and you're still living with him."

"Well, I'm not. This is real, you dork," I say, giving him a grin.

Kwan relaxes just a touch, a quiet, nervous laugh spilling from him. He pulls his hand from mine and the conversation moves on. And no one talks about what Kwan said. And I don't tell him that same fear is sewn so deep beneath my skin, it fuels my every nightmare.

---

From: Danny

Can't wait to see you

Drive safe xx

I can't keep myself from grinning as I read over Danny's text messages at the last red light before his place. I don't know how this dinner's going to go but I know that I love being with Danny.

I glance to the bouquet of roses in my passenger seat I grabbed on the way here. Danny's going to love them. Even though I can already imagine his mom's reaction isn't going to be good, I don't care. These are for him. To make him smile — remind him of me when I leave tonight.

I text back a heart emoji just before I pull away from the red light. The turn in for his street is just past that and I almost hold my breath as I start down the curved road. God, I'm not even that nervous about re-meeting his parents anymore. I just want to see him.

Jack's out on the front porch when I pull up and my breath catches in my throat at the sight. Did something happen?

He starts down the stairs as I get out of my car. He gives a wave, big smile on his face, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Hey, Mr. Fenton," I greet, waving in return.

"Just call me Jack," he calls, continuing toward me. His feet are bare as he walks across the driveway toward me. "Dinner's almost ready. I thought you and I could talk first, son."

I look up at that. "Uhh… sure. Give me a second."

Jack waits for me on the other side of his car while I grab the roses from my passenger seat. He glances at the flowers when I turn around.

"Are those for Danny?" He smiles when I nod and he beckons me closer. "I'm sure he'll love them."

"Yeah, I'm hoping he will." I come to a stop a few paces from him, the glow of the light above the garage bathing the two of us in harsh blue. I watch Jack's eyebrows pull together as his gaze moves across my face. He doesn't say anything about my nose and the words don't come to me. I shift my weight in the silence. "You um… you wanted to talk?"

Jack nods, his stare shifting away from me and back again. "Yeah. Since you and Danny seem to be getting more serious, I thought it was best if we talked about your future together. You're both graduating soon and I don't want there to be any confusion in the fall. When it's time for the both of you to go to college." He stops there, inclining his head to one side with a frown. "You are going to college, yes?"

"I am," I say, this sinking feeling in my gut telling me that I know exactly where he's leading this conversation.

"Good. I think education is important and I know my son does, too," he says, continuing at my nod. "Danny's always been gifted academically. Whatever he decides to study, I'm sure he's going to have a bright future. And the thing is, Danny's got his pick of schools at this point — he's been accepted at a lot different universities."

"He has?" My voice sounds small on the question. Why hasn't he told me about this?

Jack nods. "Yes. And though his mother has ideas about where he should go, I've made sure that Danny's aware the choice is entirely his own. The only thing I'm looking for him to prioritize is his education and where he wants to be. Not who might or might not be there with him." He holds my stare now, letting out a quiet breath. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I swallow hard. "Yes. I-I know that he's… we might end up in different places."

"Yes," Jack says, nodding at my silence. "I'm not saying that it would be a bad thing for the two of you to go to the same school. I just want Danny to choose where he wants instead of trying to base his choice on where you've been accepted, too."

"Right," I breathe out, dropping my stare from his. "He hasn't talked to me about any of this."

He makes a soft noise. "That sounds like Danny. Playing it close to the vest until he's made his decision. Have you made your choice yet?"

"No. There are still a few places I'm looking at. One of them I'm actually visiting this weekend," I say, letting out a breath when he nods. "Did… Did Danny tell you he's coming with me?"

Jack frowns. "He mentioned something in passing the other morning but he didn't give me any details. Is it far away?"

"No, not too far. It's just outside of Dryden," I say, letting out a breath at his nod. "He's just coming with me for like… a getaway, you know? I don't know if he's even considering the school."

Jack nods. "Either way, it's his choice."

"Yeah," I say, the awkwardness creeping in the longer we stay silent.

He holds my stare for a few seconds longer before he looks away. "Well, I suppose we should go inside now. I'd like to extend my apologies in advance for how this evening might play out. My wife means well but as you know, she can be a bit… overly protective."

That's one way to put it.

"I understand. I won't take it personally," I say, lifting one shoulder in a shrug when he looks back at me. "Having your boyfriend's parents like you is a plus but… as long Danny still likes me, I'm good."

Jack gives me a smile and reaches out to clap me on the shoulder. "Come on."

I follow him across the yard and up the stairs to the front porch. He opens the front door and I follow him inside. An array of different cooking smells hits my senses as I push the door shut behind us. I definitely catch the scent of garlic the further into the foyer I step.

"Danny, he's here," Jack calls into the house and this flush races through me.

I can't help the grin when I see Danny step out of the dining room. He's wearing what he wore at school this morning, except he's swapped his jeans for athletic shorts. And holy fuck, I love the way the fabric hugs his skin.

"Hey," I greet, stepping past Jack to get to him. Danny grins and I can't resist pulling him in for a kiss. It's a quick, innocent one and leaves me wanting so much more. But his dad's right fucking there and his mom's in the next room. I'm not letting either one of them catch me tonguing their son.

"Hey yourself," he says, his face pink. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too," I say, holding the flowers out toward him. "These are for you."

Danny's face lights up and the smile he gives me is so fucking happy. "Oh my gosh! Dash, they're beautiful. Thank you."

He takes the bouquet from me and holds them up to his nose, inhaling their vague flowery scent. And I can't help but grin, my insides completely jumbled up at the smile on his face.

"I'll go put these in water," he says, looking from me to Jack. "Oh, and Mom was looking for you. Something about… potatoes, I think?"

Jack nods, giving Danny a smile before he leaves the foyer. I kick my shoes off, nudging them toward Danny's. He's still standing at the edge of the foyer when I look up.

"Thought you were going to put those in water," I say, a hint of teasing to my voice.

Danny lets out a breath that shakes and closes the distance between us. "Kiss me like you mean it."

"What? Danny, your parents are-"

"Screw my parents."

Danny presses his lips to mine and pushes his tongue against my teeth until I let him in. Fuck, I love the way he tastes. Love the way his tongue feels in my mouth — love that I get to have this and be with him.

"We… We shouldn't," I say, out of breath when I pull away from him. "I don't… want your parents catching us like this."

He gives me a smile that I think is supposed to be innocent but fuck, he knows I want to keep kissing him.

"Then come help me put these in some water," he says, sliding his hand into mine. He presses a final kiss to my cheek before he leads us out of the foyer.

His mom's at the stove on the other side of the kitchen when we step in. Her back is to us but I still feel my chest tighten. I decide to be the one to break the ice.

"Hey Mrs. Fenton," I call out.

She looks over her shoulder toward me, barely giving me a nod before she's turning around again. I hear Jack say something to her in a hushed voice but I still catch the words 'be nice'. Great, so that's how this is going to go.

Danny bumps his hip against mine and gives me a smile, a note of apology in his eyes. "Can you get me a vase? They're in the cabinet next to the sink."

I step past him and open up the cabinet, crouching down to look at the vases in there. I grab a clear glass one and Danny smiles at my choice when I hold it out to him.

"Perfect." He takes it from me, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he steps past me to get to the sink. While he fills the vase up with water, I take the wrapping off the flowers. I help arrange the flowers in the vase and Danny grins when we've finished.

"I'll put these in my room when we're finished with dinner," Danny says, taking my hand in both of his. "Come on. I'll show you to the table."

I let him lead me out of the kitchen and we've just stepped into the dining room when Jack comes in behind us. He sets a a bowl of potatoes down in the middle of the table and flashes a smile my way before he turns to leave.

The table's already been set and there's a can of Dr. Pepper at one spot.

"Guess I know where I'm sitting," I say, grinning at the smile Danny gives me.

He sticks his tongue out. "Duh, next to me."

I almost close the distance between us and give him another kiss but his mom comes into the dining room, immediately followed by Jack. So I settle for sitting next to him, our chairs scooted so close to each others that our thighs are touching beneath the table.

We settle into dinner easily and I do my best to ignore the curious stares Mrs. Fenton keeps shooting my way. She's not being nearly as subtle about my nose as Jack was.

"So, Dash. Danny told us that you moved recently," Jack says.

I look up from my plate at that. "Yeah, I did. A couple weeks ago now."

Jack nods, stirring the pasta on his plate before he looks up at me again. "You and your dad moved? Or…?"

My breath catches at the suggestion of me living with my father again. For a split second, I almost spin out. The panic settles in like a heavy blanket on my chest and it feels as though I'm strangling over each breath I draw in.

But Danny senses my panic, places his hand on my knee. He effortlessly reminds me that I'm sitting next to him — that I'm here. In this moment. Not somewhere with Dad, hiding out from his anger.

"No. I a-actually… I moved out of my dad's place," I say. I manage to hold Jack's stare when he looks at me but I can't drag any more words out of me.

Jack sets his fork down next to his plate. His eyebrows pull together. "Oh. I didn't know that. Are you living by yourself then?"

I shake my head. "No. I moved in with this guy I know. He's kind of like an older brother."

Relief eases through me at the thought of Alex. I take a few quiet, deep breaths, trying to expel the panic still trying to rise in me. I don't know that it does any good. I just keep repeating things in my head that Alex has said before. It dulls the feeling a little.

"Well that's good," Jack says. He picks up his fork again, looking toward Danny's mom. "Are you listening to this, Maddie?"

Mrs. Fenton nods, not looking up from the piece of chicken she's cutting. And I decide to be the one to break the silence she keeps giving me.

"This meal is excellent, Mrs. Fenton," I say, doing my best not to wilt with the stare she gives me.

Her response isn't what I expected. "What happened to your nose?"

My breath sticks again but it's only for a second this time. I expected this question eventually. I push out a breath and hold her stare.

"It's nothing. Just a misunderstanding."

Her gaze narrows. "I didn't ask you if it was a misunderstanding. I asked you what happened."

"Maddie, come on," Jack says, shooting me an apologetic look. "It doesn't matter what happened."

"I'm allowed to ask him questions," Maddie says, looking to Jack. "Don't you want to know if our son is dating someone honest? And if he can't answer a simple question like this then maybe he's not honest at all."

"Mom," Danny calls, letting out a sigh when she doesn't look at him. "Can you just let it go?"

His gaze flashes to me for a second, that same note of apology in his eyes. His mom's stare shifts from Jack but it doesn't go to Danny. She moves her stare back to me instead and I decide that there's no shame in the truth.

"Someone on the police force has sided with my dad," I say, continuing in the silence I'm met with, despite the nerves in the pit of my stomach. "See, I moved out of my dad's house because he's abusive. And one of his officers apparently thinks I should just roll over and take it."

Mrs. Fenton drops her stare from mine but I find myself unfinished, the words flowing from me like I never paused.

"I don't go looking for fights. And I told him as much but… he wanted to make sure I knew what he thought of me moving away from my father."

Jack lets out a quiet breath. "You don't have to tell us this, son."

"I don't mind," I say, lifting one shoulder when he looks to me. There's a strange relief in saying it out loud — in pulling back the curtain on the man I've lived with my whole life. Everyone has always seen him as the great police chief of our town. It's almost nice showing them who he really is.

Danny takes my hand in his beneath the table, squeezing tightly. I squeeze back but I don't look at him, my gaze on his mom instead. She won't look up from her food now, like the meat and pasta is so much more interesting than what I'm talking about.

In a way, I get it. She wanted to trip me up on something — make it seem like Danny and I aren't such a good match. But it didn't work and now she doesn't know what to say.

"I know the two of you don't really know me yet so I kind of get the lack of trust. But I—"

"I shouldn't have asked," Maddie cuts me off. She gives me a nod, her stare falling to her plate again. "You have a right to your privacy, Dash. You don't have to tell us anything."

I look to Danny, trying to gauge how to respond. His expression is slightly bewildered and all he can offer is a shrug.

"I don't… mind telling you this. Either one of you," I say, looking to Jack with that. "If either of you have any questions, I don't mind answering. Like I said, I know you guys don't really know me."

Jack gives me a smile that holds a note of weariness at the edges. "Thank you, we'll keep that in mind. For now, let's just eat."

His stare leaves me and Danny's gaze drops to his plate with a quiet sigh. He stirs the food around on his plate and I'm trying to understand what just happened here. Something's shifted between the four of us and I don't know what.

From the way Danny won't meet my stare, it's gotta be something heavy.

---

Jack tries to keep a conversation going throughout dinner but the responses Danny and his mom give are stilted as fuck. So when he suggests dessert, I tell them that Alex and Kendra are expecting me home soon.

"Walk me out?" I ask Danny in the foyer after I've pulled my shoes on.

He nods, his gaze on the ground as he follows me out onto the porch. I pull it shut behind the two of us before I tug him against my chest. His arms slide around my back and he buries his face against my chest. I can't stop the electricity shooting through my veins at his closeness but I try to ignore it. Danny needs me right now.

"You okay?" I ask, rubbing circles on his back. He makes a quiet noise but doesn't respond. I hold him closer, pressing a kiss to his hairline. "I'm sorry. Should I not have answered your mom's question?"

Danny pulls away from me with a quiet sigh and I miss his warmth as soon as it leaves. He shakes his head, his eyebrows pulling together. "No. She kind of backed you into a corner there. She wanted a specific answer — some way to get me to see that I shouldn't be with you."

"Maybe next time I can tell her I got it in a bar fight." I give him a grin that he just frowns at. "Sorry. That was dumb."

Danny shakes his head. He wraps his arms around himself and moves across the porch to lean against the railing. He stares out into the dark that's settled outside his house, the last traces of light gone from the sky. He looks at me when I join him at the railing.

"It wasn't dumb. I just… I don't know. I'm tired, Dash."

I walk my fingers along the railing until I can loop my pinky through his. He doesn't pull away. "Tired of what?"

He lets out a breath, leaning forward to rest his chin on his folded arms. His lips brush against my pinky in a gentle kiss before his stare meets mine. "Everything."

That sends a jolt of electricity through me and Danny must realize the alarm bells that just set off in me. He squeezes my pinky tighter, shaking his head once.

"Not like that. I just mean… I've been trying since middle school to get my mom to accept that this is who I am. And she… it's like it doesn't matter." Danny's gaze falls from mine, leaning his cheek against his forearms now. "I'm just tired of trying to get her to accept it. And I'm tired of being upset when she doesn't."

I don't know what to say. It shouldn't surprise me but it does. This is Danny. And I'm coming up empty. I just stare at him like a fucking idiot. Until he gives me a sad little smile that makes me desperately spit something out.

"You shouldn't have to deal with that," I say, like I'm a goddamn school counselor talking to some kid being bullied. "I mean you… you shouldn't… she shouldn't…"

Danny doesn't say anything as I stammer, his sad smile never leaving. He turns just far enough to kiss my pinky again before he saves me from the shitty comfort I'm desperately trying to give him.

"It's okay. I should be used to it by now. She never accepted Blake either and before you, he was the longest I ever dated anyone," he says with a heavy sigh.

I squeeze his pinky again, trying not to sound like a complete idiot when I speak. "Did she… I didn't… I didn't know Blake met your parents."

Danny nods, his stare set out into the darkness again. "Yeah. After we'd been dating for like two months, I asked if I could meet his parents and he said no. But he agreed to meet mine so… I took the win at the time."

"I'm sorry," I say, continuing at his silence. "That you didn't get to meet them. And that I… I don't have any for you to meet either."

He makes a soft noise and looks back at me. "No, you don't have to apologize for that. I'm glad I don't have to meet either one of your parents. I think I'd go feral on them."

The grin he gives me doesn't match the seriousness in his eyes but it somehow breaks the tension and a nervous laugh bubbles up from me.

"Oh, yeah? You'd give them a piece of your mind, huh?" I ask, grinning as he straightens up from the porch railing.

"That and a couple of left hooks." Danny fakes a few playful punches at my chest, looking up at me with a grin that fades into a gentle smile. "I really would say something to both of them."

My chest floods with warmth that spreads to my face. I find it hard to hold his gaze. "Yeah, well. I appreciate the thought. And you should know that I… I'd say anything to your mom if you wanted me to."

Danny shakes his head when I meet his stare again. "No. I know you say not to compare but the things my mom's done could never hold a candle to the hell your parents put you through."

I drop my stare from his. I try to speak — tell him that yes, he shouldn't be comparing. But his voice is so gentle when he continues, I can't interrupt him.

"It really kills me how much they hurt you. How much you hesitate and second guess yourself and never…" He lets out a quiet breath, his words rushing out of him. "Never believe that all the good things in your life aren't something to earn. You just deserve good things. You deserve good, Dash."

Fuck me. My eyes sting but I don't make myself choke back the tears. I'm not sure I could anyway. I meet his stare, grinning despite the tears in my eyes and the way it makes my nose ache. I don't know what to do with the way he sees right through me and all the bullshit. I go for a cheap joke.

"Is that all just sweet talk to get in my bed, Fenton?" I ask, laughing at the eye roll he gives me. Cause it's accompanied with flushed cheeks and a sly grin pulling at his lips. And he lets me kiss him. And somewhere deep in my chest, I think that this is how we'll always be.

---

I drive the long way home, taking my time down all the back streets Amity Park has to offer. It's still too cold to drive with my windows down but I crack them anyway when I get to my street. Come summer time, this drive home is going to be fucking epic.

My mind and heart are buzzing with every mile. Begging me to turn back and take Danny home with me. Whisper sweet things to him. Let him whisper them back.

You deserve good, Dash.

I can't stop replaying his words in my head. I don't think anyone's ever spoken to me the way he did tonight. I wonder how often he's thought of hurting my parents for what they've done to me. I wonder if he'd ever actually do it if he got the chance. And I wonder if I would try to stop him.

It's just past nine when I pull in the driveway and kill the engine. The light's on in the living room and the front door opens just as I get out and shut my car door.

"Hey," Kendra calls from the doorway, the screen door half open. She tucks her cardigan around herself more securely. "Alex was just wondering when you'd be home."

I start up the driveway toward her. "Sorry, dinner ran late. Danny and I got to talking afterward."

"No, don't apologize, it's fine," she says, opening the door wider to let me inside. She waits until I've stepped inside before she continues. "Did you have fun?"

Despite Mrs. Fenton's death glares and attempts to trip me up and all the darkness we shared on his front porch…

"Yeah, I did," I say, looking past her as a noise sounds somewhere in the house.

Kendra looks toward it too with a gentle smile. "That's Alex. He's making some hot chocolate."

I shed my jacket and drape it over the arm of the couch. "Cool. I'll go say hey."

"Okay, I'll join you guys in a minute." She gives me a smile before she pulls her phone from the pocket on her cardigan, frowning down at the screen.

I leave Kendra in the living room and I'm purposefully loud as I step into the kitchen. I'm not sure why. Something about it tickles at the back of my mind. Alex has his back to me, stirring a pot on the stove. He's humming softly to himself, a tune I vaguely recognize. I can't help but smile just as he turns and catches sight of me over his shoulder. That's when I remember this morning, when I accidentally scared him.

For a second, this rush races through me like maybe I'm going to startle him again. But he greets me with a smile.

"Hey, welcome home. How'd dinner go?"

I lift one shoulder in a shrug and move further into the kitchen. Try to shake out the memory of this morning. "Not as bad as I thought it would."

"But not great either?" he asks, shaking his head when I nod. "I'm sorry. I know it was important for you to have his parents like you."

He turns back to the stove, stirring the hot chocolate again.

"Actually, I'm not sure that I care anymore." I lean my back against the island and earn his curious stare. "I did… want their approval at first. And his dad likes me at least. But… well, I'm not dating his parents, am I?"

He gives me a kind smile, bobbing his head in agreement once before he turns his attention to the stove again.

"That's very true." He cuts the burner off and carries the pot over to a counter with three mugs set out. I watch as he pours the hot chocolate in the mugs, this warmth in my chest that he already had a mug set out for me.

"Truth be told," Alex says, setting the empty pot back on the stove. He turns around to face me before he continues. "Kendra's family hasn't ever really taken to me either."

I can't hold his gaze for long, the memory of those words graffitied on the garage still a sting. Alex picks up on it, because of course he does, and joins me at the island. I keep my gaze across the kitchen, watching steam rise from the mugs on the counter.

Alex's shoulder brushes against mine when he leans against the island next to me. He lets out a quiet breath. "Can we talk? About this morning?"

I glance toward him but he's not looking at me. I think he's trying to give me privacy. I swallow hard and try to nod but I can't make a move. Alex doesn't wait for me to respond.

"I'm not saying that you have it. I'm not qualified to tell if someone has it or not. I've just observed similarities between us," he says, his voice quiet. He waits a few seconds, maybe to see if I'm going to respond, before he plunges on. "I don't know what you've heard about it but PTSD is nothing to be afraid of or ashamed about. It's a perfectly natural response to trauma."

I don't know that I would call my childhood traumatic. It could have been worse. A lot worse. I'm sure Alex's was. To call what I went through traumatic would probably be an insult to people like Alex and Ana.

As if he's reading my mind, Alex speaks into the silence. "You should know that this happens to anyone that experiences trauma. Even if you don't feel like what you experienced was that bad, you can still develop something like this."

I blow out a breath, keeping my gaze on the mugs across the kitchen. I think about staying silent — let him keep talking to empty air until he gives up on getting a response. It doesn't sit right in my gut and I don't know why. Maybe it's everything Alex has done for me. Maybe it's that tiny part of me that wonders if he could be right.

"I don't really know what you want me to say." I shrug and make to look at him but I never get past turning my head before my gaze falls to the ground. "I'm not sure that I see that in me cause… I don't know, the shit that happened to me was forever ago. It's not like it affects me now."

Alex groans softly. "Dash, come on. Even you have to admit that some of it still affects you today." He continues at my silence. "The nightmares? You really think those just happen?"

"I don't know."

He lets out a quiet breath. "You flinch at little things. Sudden noises, a raised voice… a raised hand."

That startles me into looking up at him. I don't know if that's true, I don't think I flinch at that kind of stuff. Maybe a sudden noise or something like that car up at Blake's cabin but not… not that.

"I doubt that," I say, turning to face him more. Trying to mask my expression into something that'll make him see he's wrong. I'm not like him.

Alex's eyes move as he takes in my expression. And in a quick movement I barely have time to see, he's got his hand raised between us. And a knowing look blooms in his eyes when I can't hold back the flinch.

"That… that doesn't prove anything," I mumble, my face on fucking fire as I look away from him.

He's kind enough not to say anything, placing his hand on my back to give me a gentle pat. "It's alright. Just… talk to your therapist about it, okay?"

I don't know that I ever will. But I give him the nod he's waiting for and he lets it go with that. And I take the mug of hot chocolate he gives me. And I pretend that this conversation never happened.

---

Blake doesn't show up to school on Friday. I think Jeff and I sense it when we get to school, that he's not coming in. I try calling him just before the bell rings for social studies but it goes straight to voicemail.

He's not in chem labs with me either and I text Jeff to see if he's heard from him yet. He hasn't. Shit, what happened?

I can barely concentrate when I sit down in English class, my mind replaying the other day. Blake leaning up against his car, pulling in hits of smoke to calm down. I don't get it. He seemed fine yesterday — and the day before. I thought Tuesday was just a blip.

Nik picks up on my lack of focus immediately.

"Hey, you doing okay?" he asks, dropping his stare to my leg nervously bouncing under my desk.

I try to stop the nerves from racing through me but it's a lost cause. If I stop my leg from shaking, I chew on my thumbnail until it hurts. I've been alternating all morning. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Nik frowns, unconvinced by my shit words. "Did you not understand something?"

"Huh?" I ask, genuinely lost on the question.

"In the reading Mr. Lancer assigned. Was something confusing?" Nik inclines his head to one side.

Oh… right. Homework.

"No, it's not that," I say, giving in at his curious expression. "You know that friend of mine, Blake?"

He nods, his eyebrows drawing together. "Yeah, I know him. Why?"

I let out a breath that shakes. I lower my voice as someone joins us inside the classroom. "He didn't show up for school today."

Nik nods again. "Okay. Try not to jump to worst case scenario here. Maybe he just decided to skip."

I shake my head. "No, he wouldn't want to stay home. Not around his parents anyway."

"Maybe he's not at his home. Maybe he's just out and wants to be alone," Nik says, frowning at my silence. "Hey, come on. Don't spiral on this, I'm sure wherever he is, he's doing fine."

I don't buy it. Blake's been freaked out this week for a reason. And I should have taken it more seriously. I remember what it's like. The silent treatment can only mean that a bigger storm is coming. And fuck, I was never prepared for the tidal wave Dad brought with him when the silent treatment ended. I don't think Blake was ready to weather his parents storm either.

---

"I went by his place," Jeff says to me in line at the cafeteria.

I nearly drop my tray, a jolt racing through me. "Is he okay? What did he say?"

Jeff shakes his head, chewing on the side of his thumbnail when I look at him. "He wasn't there. His car's gone."

Shit.

"You don't think that-"

"That his parents did something?" He drops his hand from his mouth. "I think they're more than capable of it, yeah."

The air around us seems thinner than before and the breaths I draw in are more of a struggle than they were before.

"I-I can text Alex. He's friends with the new a-acting police chief. He can find Blake and he'll-"

"No." Jeff shakes his head. "Blake's gone radio silent before when he's laying low from his parents. The last thing we need is his parents being notified of the police looking for him."

I shift my tray as we move further down the line. I add things to my tray just to give my hands something to do. "Then… how do you know that he's laying low and his parents haven't… done something?"

"I'll know tonight. He comes by my place when he can't call. He tags my car with a washable marker," Jeff says, a faint smile on his face when I look at him. "It'll be there tonight."

"What if it's not?" I ask, my stomach turning at the way his smile fades.

Jeff lets out a breath and leans past me to snag a cup of fruit that he adds to his tray. He meets my stare and lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "If he doesn't tag my car tonight then… I'll call the police."

This isn't right. Something's gone wrong, I can feel it in my gut. Blake wouldn't disappear like this for anything less than catastrophic. Something's happened to him.

Danny comes into the cafeteria just as Jeff and I are sitting down. He comes over to our table with a grin, settling next to me with food from the vending machine.

"Felt like snacking today," he says, grinning as he looks between us. His stare moves back to me and his smile disappears. "Is something wrong?"

"Hopefully not," Jeff says, shrugging when Danny looks at him. "Blake didn't show up today."

"Shit, really?" Danny asks, looking toward me. "Did he say anything to you the other day about ditching?"

I shake my head.

Danny lets out a breath and looks away from me. Jeff starts eating in silence but I can barely get a bite down. The three of us aren't left in silence for long, Paulina and Dale join us almost immediately.

"Dudes. Pretty sure I just bombed my calculus test," Dale says, groaning as he drops his tray onto the table. "It was stupid hard and I know Ms. Tetzlaff must get off on how difficult her tests are because she-"

Paulina calls Dale's name softly, a worried expression on her face when I look up at her. She doesn't have to ask — I recognize the delicate way she inclines her head to one side, eyebrows pinched together. I know she's asking what's wrong without words. We never needed them when we were together.

"Blake didn't show up today," I say, my voice shaking on the words.

Her eyebrows rise on her forehead and she looks to Danny, then Jeff. "Have you heard from him?"

"No." Jeff licks yogurt off the back of his plastic spoon before he looks to Paulina. "He's probably just laying low from his parents. I'm sure he'll be back here on Monday."

"But what if he's not?" I ask, my breath hitching at the look he gives me. "You keep saying that he's done this before but what if it's different this time?"

Danny takes my hand in his and scoots closer to me on the bench. He squeezes my palm hard.

"You shouldn't worry about it yet," Danny says, nodding when I look to him. "Jeff's right, he's probably just laying low from his parents. I'm sure everything is fine."

I don't get how he can say that — how anyone here can't feel this same pit in their gut. Maybe it's because they don't know what it's like. That first day the silent treatment starts is like walking on a fucking tightrope. And every day after is just spent holding your breath, waiting for the silence to break. For that first strike to land.

"Can we join you?" someone asks.

I look toward the sound, Nik and Derek standing at the end of the table. Nik's eyebrows are drawn down in concern. Derek's scrolling through his phone, his tray balanced on one hand.

"Yeah," I say, letting out a breath as Nik slides onto the bench next to Paulina.

Derek sits next to Nik, his gaze still on his phone but Nik picks up on the tense atmosphere immediately.

"I take it none of you have heard from Blake still?" he asks, letting out a quiet breath as he sets his own phone down on the table. "I can try to text him."

"I didn't know you had his number," Jeff says, his gaze moving down the table toward him.

Nik looks up at Jeff. "He gave it to me when we were at the cabin." He drops his gaze back to his phone. "I don't know if he'll respond to any of us but… worth a try."

Danny starts trying to open a bag of chips with one hand and his teeth so I let go of his hand.

"I almost had it," he jokes, the humor lost on me.

I'm not even sure what I eat, this fear twisting in me at Blake's absence. He should be here with us. I knew that panic attack he had in the parking lot the other day was something. I knew it wasn't just his fear getting the better of him — he sensed something was coming. And I should have, too.

---

By the end of the school day, no one's heard from Blake. I'm ready to call Chuck but Jeff asks me to give him until tonight and I stupidly agree, standing out in the parking lot, my heartbeat ringing in my ears.

"Do you want me to come home with you?" Danny asks, sitting next to me on the trunk of Ryder. He frowns when I shake my head and runs his thumb over the back of my hand. "Are you sure? I don't mind. We can work on our homework. Or I can do plenty of other things to get your mind off of this…"

I shake my head, tugging my hand away from his. "No. I've got… an appointment. And I might go by the garage after. Talk to Alex."

"That's good," Danny says, dropping down from my trunk to the ground. He lets out a quiet breath then, seems to hesitate until I look at him. "Sorry, I just… I don't remember what time you said you were coming by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" I ask, staring blankly at him. "What are you talking about?"

Danny lets out a quiet breath. "You, um… you're picking me up? Before we… drive out to DALV?"

Shit. I completely forgot about that. I don't have any of my shit ready for that. And I can't get this taste of panic out of my throat. But this visit's happening — I can't throw it away because of this. And it's not like I can do anything even if I am here.

"Can you come by tonight?" I ask, looking away from the worried expression Danny's giving me. "Spend the night again?"

Danny lets out a breath and closes the distance between us. He places his hand against my cheek, turns my face to meet his. He gives me a delicate smile, leaning forward to place a kiss to the tip of my nose.

"I would love to. Do you want me to come by around dinner time?" he asks and I nod. "Okay. I'll be there then."

I pull him closer to me before he can move away again, kissing him with all the courage I have left. Damn whoever sees us and cares — I love him. Love how selfless he always is, how willing he is to give up his plans to fit neatly into mine.

"Thank you," I breathe against his lips as I pull away.

I reluctantly let him go and leave the trunk of my car. I watch as he crosses the parking lot to his Equus, his walk almost a skip at times. And I nearly collapse in my front seat, only turning the engine on before I take my phone from my back pocket.

I send two texts and a silent prayer that he responds before the nights up.

To: Blake

Please text me when you get this

Please be okay

---

There are a few cars parked in the lot outside my therapist's building when I get there. And I wish I could just turn my car around and take the first road out of here. Spend this time looking for Blake instead.

I call Alex. Because I know if I don't, I'll pull out of here and skip my appointment altogether.

"Hello?" Alex answers the call, faint sounds of the garage in the background.

I lean my head against the warm glass of my window and reposition my phone. "Hey. You working?"

"Yeah. Why? Do you need something?"

Other than the ability to go back in time and stop Blake from going home to his parents last night?

"No. I just… wanted to call and see what you're up to," I say.

Alex is quiet for a few seconds before he speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be in therapy right now?"

"I still have a few minutes. I'm in the parking lot."

He makes a soft noise and guesses why I'm really calling. "Did something happen at school?"

"Yeah." I blow out a breath. Let my eyes fall closed. "One of my friends didn't show up. And I just… something bad might have happened to him."

"I'm sorry. Have you heard from his parents yet?"

God, these details suck. If this was a normal situation, his parents would already be talking to the police. They'd be trying to figure out where he is and make sure he's safe but fuck. They're not normal. And they're probably just pissed that their fucking punching bag is gone.

"No. He's most likely hiding out from them."

Alex says something in Spanish before he speaks to me again. "Really? His parents are kind of like yours I'm assuming?"

I lean away from my window, this shiver racing through me at the chill. "Yeah. They're exactly like mine."

"I'm sorry. And hey, listen, I'm here if you want to talk about it tonight but you should go in to your therapy appointment. You haven't talked to her in what, like two weeks?" he asks, waiting in the silence. When I don't respond, he lets out a quiet breath. "Dash."

"I really don't want to go in there," I say, the honesty slipping out before I can stop it.

Alex makes a noise. "Why not?"

Because I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about what this makes me feel. And I don't want to talk about Dad or Mom or how I'm doing or fucking anything. I just want to be anywhere but here.

"Could I come by the garage instead?" I ask.

He's quick with the answer. "You're welcome to come by after your appointment."

I lean my head back against my seat, staring up at the roof of my car. I don't want to talk to her about anything. I don't want to go in there and talk about Blake not showing up to school, wondering if that's how it would have gone for me if I didn't have Alex. If I'd been left alone with Dad, would I have run like Mom did?

"Dash, please don't skip your appointment. I know it's hard but it can help you."

His voice is almost pleading on the words. That's the only thing that makes me tell him I won't skip before I end the call. It still takes me another minute in my car before I go inside.

I'm signing my name on the check in pad when Penelope comes down the hall. Her expression loses the smile, concern crossing her features as she looks at me. It takes me a few seconds to remember the state my nose is in.

"Hey," I greet, looking away from her as I tuck my wallet into my back pocket. "Just finishing up."

"Okay, perfect. Come on back," she says, giving me a smile I can't return.

I drop my stare to the carpet and follow her down the hallway into her office. She lets me in first and I take my usual spot on her couch. A wave of embarrassment ripples through me as I remember the last time I was in her office. When she asked me too many questions and I teared up. God, I hope that doesn't happen today.

She surprises me by not immediately asking about my nose.

"So, how've things been? It's been a few weeks," she says, settling down in her chair and scooting closer to the couch. "The last time we talked, you were about to go to your first dance with your boyfriend, right? How'd that go?"

I nod, my stare already drifting away from her to take in her office like I haven't seen it a dozen times already. That feels like ancient fucking history now. "It was okay. Mostly." I catch the curiosity on her face before I look away. "After the dance, these guys jumped a friend of mine. Beat the shit out of him."

Even now, weeks later, the words don't taste any less bitter. Fucking assholes.

"Oh, wow. Were you there when it happened?"

I shake my head, keeping my gaze moving throughout her office like I'm looking for something. "No. And I didn't even… not until the next morning. We were moving into our new place and I… but we went to see him," I say, fully aware that I'm barely finishing my sentences now.

Penelope makes a quiet, affirming noise and I plunge on.

"He's okay. And the police are doing what they can to catch the guys that did it," I say, the words igniting something more in me now and I finally look to Penelope. She's got a clipboard balanced in her lap, pen in her hand. "Oh yeah and someone fucking defaced the garage."

She writes something on the clipboard, her pen scratching loudly against the paper. "Alex's auto shop?"

"Yeah, some asshole told him to go back to his country," I say, the words tasting almost as bitter on the way out. "Like he doesn't fucking belong here."

Penelope's eyebrows draw together and she looks up at me. "Do you think these two incidents are connected?"

"No." I shake my head, my stare drifting away from her again. "Alex thinks it's someone he knows with the garage thing. But either way, the police are on that, too. At least Chuck is, I mean."

"And Chuck is…?"

"He's a police officer," I say, continuing when she starts writing again. "Actually, he's the new acting police chief. Apparently my dad hasn't been to the station in a while."

I try to ignore the way that sends a rush of anxiety through my chest just thinking about it. I also try to ignore the way it's piqued Penelope's interest.

"Really? Have you been speaking with your father again?"

That thought scares me but I push it down to dull it. I shake my head when I look back to Penelope. "No. Chuck told me that."

She clicks her pen, scribbling something on her page with a frown. "Remind me how you know Chuck again?"

"Well… he used to be my dad's partner. You know, at the station?" I ask, continuing when she nods. "But he's friends with Alex. Apparently they go way back so, I've seen him a lot more since I started living with Alex."

"And that doesn't bother you?" She continues when I shake my head. "It doesn't remind you of your dad?"

I shake my head again.

She nods, continuing writing on her clipboard as she speaks. "Is that why you weren't here last week?"

"No, I canceled last week cause my friends and I were going on a trip," I say, the words feeling dumb on the way out. After talking about the shit Nik and Alex went through, here I am talking about a stupid getaway.

"Oh, that's fun. Where'd you guys go?"

She clicks her pen in the silence and I hear her writing something else on the clipboard balanced on her lap. I briefly wonder if she's going to do that after everything I say but she puts it down on the desk behind her almost immediately after the thought crosses my mind.

"Up to this ski cabin that one of my friend's parents owns." I run my finger across the texture of the couch, spitting more words just to fill the silence. "It was nice. We just played games and kinda hung out, you know?"

She makes a quiet, affirmative noise. "That sounds relaxing."

It was. And it wasn't. And the silence crushes me. I end up leaning forward on the couch, resting my forehead in my palms. I can't believe I'm already here. I can't believe I'm already trying to hold it together when I've barely been in here more than five minutes.

"Not as relaxing as you wanted it to be?" Penelope asks, her tone telling me how delicate she's trying to be with this.

I shake my head. Ignore the feeling deep in my gut telling me that it doesn't matter if I talk about it or not, that Dad will always have a hold over me like this.

"It's just… something happened up there. And I don't… I don't even know what it was, I just…" I trail off, the words not in me. But Penelope's patient, waiting the entire two and half fucking minutes it takes me staring down at the carpet to string the words together. "We made a run to the store and I… and there was this guy. And for a second, he looked like… I thought it was… my…"

"You thought it was your father?" she offers when I can't continue.

I nod, unable to lift my stare from the carpet. "Yeah. And I… I just panicked again. Sat in the car until my friends came out of the store."

"And did any of them talk to you about it?"

I shake my head then shrug. "I don't know. I kind of shut down, you know? I didn't want to talk about it." I run a hand down my face and lean back against the couch. Turn my gaze to the ceiling now.

Penelope starts to speak, maybe ask me another question about it, but I move on. I don't know if I'm ready to go into the details of that day, the memory already picking at my skin.

"One of my friends didn't show up for school today. I think his parents are…" I let out a breath. Run a hand down my face. "I don't know what I think about his parents. But he wasn't at school and his car's not at his house."

She lets out a quiet breath, waiting nearly a minute in silence before she continues. "That's a lot for you to be dealing with. It sounds like a lot of things in your life have been very chaotic recently."

"Yeah, that's one way to put it." I make to pinch the bridge of my nose between my forefinger and thumb but remember at the last second that I shouldn't touch my nose. As if summoned by the idea alone, a twinge of pain races through my face. I run my index finger across the bridge of my nose as gently as I can, trying to assess how tender it still is.

"Can I ask about that?" Penelope nods toward me when I look up at her. "Your nose."

I slouch down further on the couch, suddenly wishing that I'd never called Alex in the first place. Just drove straight out of here and parked at the garage. Pretended like I forgot that I had an appointment today. "Yeah, it was just some guy. An officer my dad works with. Not a big deal."

"But not Chuck, yes?"

I shake my head. "No. This guy's name is Hartwood. He's always been kind of a dick and never really liked me but… I don't know. People in town are starting to find out that I've left my dad's place and some of them they can't stand it."

"Why do you think that is?" she asks, her head tilted to one side like she's curious what I'll come up with.

I blow out a breath, turning my stare to the ceiling. "I don't know. Probably cause Mom and I always tried to keep up this image of the perfect family, you know? And we never said anything about all the shit that he was doing. I guess it's just a lot to swallow for some people."

"It's good that you're honest about the reality of living with your father though. The truth will always come out eventually," she says, giving me a smile when I meet her gaze. "As your friend, I hope the truth comes out for him, too. And he's able to leave his family behind."

"Yeah, me too," I mumble.

I don't know if it'll be the same for Blake. Or anyone else. Sometimes it feels like I got extremely lucky. I'm not an idiot — I know the chance of finding someone like Alex is one in a fucking million. Maybe that's why I don't bring up any of the other shit to Penelope. Alex suggesting I might have post-traumatic whatever or the rest of the shit that went down at the cabin. In the face of all the good that I've got going for me now, complaining about this other shit just feels so meaningless.

Sometimes I remember the kid I used to be. Bruised and banged up but grinning ear to ear every time Dad made it to one of my games. I wonder what happened to that kid. I wonder if I was ever really him at all.

---

Danny's car is already parked in the driveway when I pull up. Alex's, too. The front door's been left open for me, the light spilling out onto the front porch.

I cut the engine off and pull my key from the ignition. I watch the front door for what feels like forever, wondering if Blake's okay. Wherever he is.

I can hear Kendra's voice in the kitchen as soon as I step inside but Alex is the one in the living room. He's on one end of the couch but he gets up when I step inside.

"Hey… I was starting to worry you were going to miss dinner." Alex frowns when I nod. "How are you feeling?"

Like a ten ton weight fell on my shoulders this morning.

"I'm alright," I say instead.

Alex lets out a quiet breath. "You sure?"

I shrug and he doesn't push it. Just gives me a nod.

"Come on. Let's go eat. It should be done soon," he says, nodding to the front door. "Can you lock up?"

I turn back to the door and push it shut all the way. Turn the deadbolt. Feel the pit in my stomach grow deeper. I should have known better than to think that Blake would be okay.

I follow Alex into the kitchen where Danny and Kendra are. Kendra's busy mixing something in a pot and she has Danny chopping vegetables next to her, a tiny apron tied around his waist.

"Hey, look who's home," Alex says, earning both of their attentions.

Danny grins when he sees me and waves the knife at me. "You weren't here so I was put to work instead."

Kendra's hand flutters to her chest as she looks between the two of us. "I thought you offered…"

"I did. I'm just teasing him," Danny says, giving me that same grin before he turns around, resuming his chopping.

Alex says something in Spanish and trades places with Kendra. She closes the distance between us, reaching out to place a hand on one side of my face. My eyes fall closed at her touch and the sigh I let out is heavier than I meant it. Kinda feels like it came from my soul.

"I'm sorry, honey. Alex told me one of your friends is missing…?" she asks, letting out a breath when I nod. "Are the police looking for him?"

I shake my head and open my eyes, catching the frown on her face. "We haven't told the police he's missing yet."

"Why not?"

"Because he might be… he might be fine. Jut hiding out from his parents," I say, the words hurting just to speak. I don't miss the stilling of Danny's knife. How he pauses, seems to take a second to collect himself before he continues.

Alex turns around to look at me. His expression's hesitant but whether it's for me or for him, I don't know. "You said his parents are kind of like yours, yeah?"

"Yes," I breathe. Alex frowns in response, turning back to the pot. He continues stirring whatever mixture's inside but he glances at me again, a frown creasing his features.

Danny dries his hands on his apron and turns around to look at Kendra. "Is that the last of the stuff you needed chopped?"

Kendra nods, dropping her face as she turns away from me. "Yes, thank you. This should be done in a second. Why don't you boys go and sit down? We'll be right there."

Danny unties his apron and turns to me with a smile, holding out his hand. "Shall we?"

I take his hand. Let him lead me into the dining room. Wonder why the fuck this is hitting me so hard. Blake and I haven't been close in years. It's actually fucking wild to think about the fact that we're even here now. That I'm this fucking worried about him.

I can't stop remembering the night I kissed Danny for the first time. Driving myself to the hospital to check on Dad. Fucking delirious with pain and barely able to see straight. Is that what Blake's experiencing right now? Is he even a fraction of how bad off I was that night? How I was for days after.

"He'll be okay, you know," Danny says softly when he settles in the chair on my left.

I try to believe his words — I really try. But I remember how long my face hurt over the holidays. I remember wearing Alex's t-shirts cause they fit better than mine. I remember my eyes stinging every time I laid down cause it all hurt so fucking much.

I remember waking from nightmares, terrified that I never made it out. I remember people all around me wanting to help and I was too fucking scared to let them.

Danny's hand comes to rest on my back and I lean forward to put my head on the table. I don't know where he is. I don't know if he's okay. All I know is that I barely made it through the days after that night Dad beat the shit out of me. And I had Danny. And Alex. Kendra. Anastasia, Tatiana — the whole fucking Moreno family. And I barely made it.

Who does Blake have? Who's going to help him make it through this?

---

I settle beneath the covers before Danny's even left the bathroom, my room illuminated only by the light of my phone. Dinner was quiet. I tried to keep up with the conversation and respond to what they were saying but I'm not sure I did that great. It's hard to think about anything else when this knot keeps growing in the pit of my stomach. I knew something was going to happen. And I let it.

My text to Jeff sends as the bathroom door opens.

To: Jeff

Any word from Blake?

I hold my breath waiting for his text but he doesn't respond. My bedroom door opens, the light streaming in from the landing, and I let out the breath I've been holding.

"Hey," Danny greets, setting his suitcase down next to mine before he shuts the door, plunging us back into darkness. "It's still chilly at night, I never know what to dress in."

He says it with a tone of amusement to his voice and I hate that I can't laugh. Hate that this worry has my gut twisted so tightly. Six months ago, I don't know that I would have given a shit. But it's different now. Blake's different now.

Danny crosses over to my bed in silence and I wait as he settles in next to me. When he rolls over to face me, I turn off my phone screen, plunging us into darkness. We lay in silence for what feels like forever and I can feel him watching me. And though my voice threatens to shake, I speak anyway.

"Do you think he's okay?"

I strain my ears for any sign that Danny's heard me but he doesn't give me one. And all I can hear is my heartbeat ringing in my ears. Thirty seconds or maybe thirty years pass in silence before he responds.

"I think… that worrying about it isn't helping you," Danny says softly. "There's nothing you can do about it right now."

My phone vibrates on the mattress, the sound loud in the silence, making me jump. Danny lets out a quiet breath and I scramble for my phone, reading over Jeff's words as the weight settles in my stomach.

From: Jeff

Not yet. Try not to worry about it.

I don't know why Jeff's saying it now, too. Maybe worrying doesn't help but not worrying about it doesn't help either. It doesn't tell me if he's okay or not.

"I take it that was Jeff?" Danny asks.

"Yeah."

My voice is hoarse and I turn my phone screen off again, burying it beneath my pillow. Danny moves closer to me. Slides his arm around my side. And I rest my forehead against his, breathing in the scent of his shampoo and wishing that we were laying here under different circumstances.

Like we'd finished exhausting each other and were drifting off to sleep together. But my heartbeat's erratic and I know Danny's concerned about me. But all I can do is duck my head. Find his lips with my own and pray to whoever might be listening that wherever Blake is, he's okay.

---

My alarm goes off in the morning and it feels like I've just fallen asleep. I turn it off and drop my head against the pillow again. Maybe just a few more minutes of sleep and I'll be ready to get up.

But Danny has other plans.

"Hey… we've gotta get up," he says, gently poking me in the arm. "Come on sleepyhead. We've got to get you up and caffeinated."

I pull the blanket up over my head but that doesn't deter him. He just ducks his head under the blanket with me and starts kissing my forehead.

"Get up, get up, get up," he says between kisses, laughing when I blink open an eye to look at him.

He pulls the blanket from over the two of us and stretches his arms over his head. And god, even seeing him through one half-squinted shut eye makes me smile. He's so beautiful. In his pajamas and sleepy eyed expression, he's still so fucking beautiful. That's the only thing that has me following him out of my bed.

I strip off my hoodie and instantly regret it but I dress quickly, all too aware of Danny's gaze on me as I turn around. He flushes that pretty pink color across his face and I grin.

"Checking me out, huh?"

Danny rolls his eyes, turning his back to me as he takes off his own t-shirt. And I'm suddenly the one that can't stop staring. I look away before he can catch me and my gaze lands on my phone, still overturned on the mattress. This jolt of fear races through me and I can't stop myself from picking it up.

I open my messages from Jeff but there's nothing new. I send a text anyway, hoping for good news.

To: Jeff

Did Blake tag your car last night?

I try to put my phone down on my bed again, walk away, and start gathering up the rest of the last minute shit I need to put in my suitcase. But I'm straining my ears for any sound my phone might make and I keep looking toward it, knowing that I'm not going to be able to concentrate on anything else until that text comes through. Until I know that Blake's okay.

"It's still early," Danny says, giving me a gentle smile when I look to him. He nods to my phone still on the bed. "Jeff might not be awake yet."

I nod even though that's feeling more and more unlikely at this point.

Danny and I finish gathering our stuff in silence and we head down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible in case Alex and Kendra are still asleep. But I smell coffee before we even hit halfway down the stairs.

We drop our suitcases at the bottom of the staircase and move into the kitchen. Kendra's sitting at the island, reading something on her phone. She looks up as we step into the kitchen.

"Morning, boys. You two heading out already?" she asks.

I lift one shoulder in a shrug and look to Danny. "Do you want to eat breakfast here?"

"Sure. And we can take coffee from here, too. Limit our stops," he says, giving me a smile before he follows me over to the island.

"There are pop-tarts in the cabinet just behind you," Kendra says, pointing behind me before she drops her hand. "Or I can make you something."

"Pop-tarts are fine." I open the cabinet and take the box out, setting it in front of Danny. "You like the chocolate ones, right? Or are you more of a brown sugar and cinnamon kinda guy?"

Danny scoffs quietly, a grin on his face. "You don't even know my favorite pop-tart flavor? What kind of boyfriend are you?"

I roll my eyes, eliciting a laugh from him, and slide the boxes across the breakfast bar toward him. "You don't know mine either."

"Bet I can guess," he says, grinning again when I look at him.

I close the door to the pantry and turn around to lean on the breakfast bar. "Alright. Guess then."

Danny chews his bottom lip, his stare flicking between the two of them before he confidently places his hand on top of the chocolate box. "This one, right?"

"Blueberry," I say, grinning when his mouth falls open. I lean forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "But nice confidence."

"Oh hush. You didn't say that was a trick question," he mumbles, his cheeks flushed.

Kendra's grinning when I look at her, her gaze moving from me to Danny. "You guys are so cute."

Warmth spreads across my face but it's not true embarrassment. It's just this warm feeling that spreads through my chest, too. Cause I like that Kendra can say that kind of shit to me. I like that I can kiss Danny in front of her.

"Where's Alex?"' I ask as I settle in the chair next to Danny. He slides the boxes of pop-tarts in front of me and I go for a brown sugar and cinnamon one.

Kendra makes a soft noise, glancing up from her phone to look at me. "I'm letting him sleep in. He had kind of a late night."

"Really? I thought he went to bed when we did."

She nods, her stare returning to her phone. "Yeah, he did. He just didn't sleep that well." She glances up at me again, a gentle smile on her face. "He's okay though."

I don't know what to make of that. And Danny bumps his leg against mine beneath the breakfast bar, like he can tell it's bugging me. There are a million things I wanna say in the silence that falls. Ask her if Alex has nightmares like I do. Bring up all his talk the other morning about PTSD.

I don't say a word. I just eat my breakfast in silence and make a coffee for me and Danny to take with us. And when our bags are by the front door, both of us carrying a coffee, Kendra comes to see us off at the door.

She holds out my wrist brace and the bottle of medicine Dr. Porter prescribed me. A gentle smile passes over her face. "Alex wanted to make sure that you took these with you. And he made me promise that I'd make you put the brace on before you left."

Heat crawls across my face but I take them both from her. Slip the bottle in my suitcase and fit the brace on my wrist as Kendra turns to Danny.

"It was so good to see you again," she says, squeezing him in a hug that has him grinning when he pulls away. She turns to me with that same, warm smile. "Drive safe, okay?"

"Always do," I say, squeezing her against my chest when she reaches out for me.

She holds on to me tighter, a quiet breath leaving her. "We'll see you when you get home on Sunday, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll see you guys then." I start to pull away but she holds onto me, her arms pressing me further against her. She lets out another quiet breath and it feels like she's hesitating. I go for a joke. "You know I have to leave if I'm gonna come back then, right?"

Kendra lets out a quiet laugh and her hold on me loosens. "I know, I know. I just… I love you."

I almost freeze mid-hug. Cause it's the first time she's said that to me. And it's not like I need her and Alex to say that kind of stuff to me — I'm not a little kid anymore. But it sets this warmth racing through me and I can't stop from grinning like I just won a fucking prize. Cause she loves me.

"I-I love you, too," I say, pulling away to grin at her.

She lets out another quiet laugh and I hear the relief in it this time. I wonder what she was picturing my reaction as. Maybe something like that day in the store. When I flipped cause she was trying to be nice to me. And that was just over some stupid bedding, not three little words that mean so much more than a couple of blankets.

I hug her again, holding onto her just as tightly as she held me. Maybe I don't need to hear that kind of stuff but maybe she needs to say it. And it's really fucking nice to know that despite all of my shit, there are people out there that love me.

---

We've just hit the interstate when my phone vibrates in the center console. And my stomach drops at Jeff's name on my screen.

"Can you read that to me?" I ask, glancing toward Danny before I focus on the road again.

Danny lets out a quiet breath but picks up my phone from the console. He reads over the text, a quiet tsk leaving him. "He said no, Blake didn't come by last night."

Fuck. I knew something was wrong. I knew I shouldn't have let Blake blow off that morning in the parking lot. When he took hits off his blunt and pretended like he was calm. Like he was anything close to calm.

"Okay, um… did he say-"

"He just sent another text," Danny says. "He said that he drove by Blake's house and that his car still isn't there. He says if he hasn't heard from Blake by five today, he'll talk to the police."

I drum my thumbs against my steering wheel, mind racing at all the possibilities of where Blake could be right now. My gut tells me it's somewhere bad — that his parents did something and now Blake might be—

Danny sets my phone down in the console again, momentarily distracting me from the thoughts running through my mind. His eyebrows are pulled together when I look at him.

"I'm sure wherever Blake is, he's okay," Danny says, continuing when I nod. "I know you're worried about him. But try not to jump to worst case scenario, okay?"

I don't know how not to. Growing up with a father like mine, I tend to look out for the worst first, so it doesn't sneak up on me. So I can prepare myself before it's too late. Fuck, Blake. Don't let it be too late.

---

DALV is almost exactly an hour outside of Amity Park. It has that going for it. All the other schools that have shown any interest in me are further away. I think I could get used to being somewhere close to home. The idea of driving back to see Alex and Kendra on some weekends has a lot of appeal.

"This place is a lot bigger than it looks online," Danny comments as I navigate the parking lot, trying to avoid the rush of students desperately trying to leave various buildings and get to their cars.

I glance at the building he's looking toward as I coast into a spot in a parking lot. Nerves twist in my stomach at the thought of entering one of these buildings and talking to people about potentially coming here this fall. "Yeah. They sent me a map to help me navigate it. Alex put it in the glove box."

I flip down my sun visor and open the little mirror, squinting at my reflection. My nose doesn't look as bad as it did when I first got punched but… it's still bad. Fucking gnarly looking, actually. I run my index finger over it tenderly, wishing that the bruising would just disappear, before I flip my visor shut again. No use trying to wish the bruising away.

Danny opens the glove box and pulls out the folded paper Alex put in there for me a few days ago. Which thank fuck for him cause I never even thought about it. "What building are we supposed to be meeting these people in?"

"I'm meeting the athletic director in building 1A or Hunters Building, I think it's called," I say.

He nods. "Okay, yeah. I see it. Do you want to move your car or do you want to just walk there?"

I look out the windshield at the few students moving between buildings, this energy to all of them. Like they're finally somewhere that they fit. And despite the cold, I think I want to feel that energy, too.

"Let's walk," I say, taking off my seatbelt. I take my brace off and drop it down into the center console. Danny's eyebrows are raised when I look up at him and I feel heat crawl across my face. "It's just for right now. Don't… don't tell Alex?"

He frowns but nods and I open my door before he can change his mind.

Danny follows me out of my car and I tuck my keys into my pocket. I wait until we're in front of my car before I reach out toward him, taking his hand in mine. With so many miles between us and Amity Park, I feel braver somehow. Like it doesn't matter who sees my hand intertwined with my boyfriend's.

Where we parked ends up being a ten minute walk to the building I'm meeting the athletic director in but it's nice. Even though it's cold, walking around with Danny keeps my mind off of Blake.

"And… you're sure it's okay if I'm with you?" he asks, for the third time.

I squeeze his hand. "Yes. They told me several times that I could bring somebody if I wanted."

"I thought it said a parent or guardian," Danny says, sighing when I shrug. "If they don't like me being here then I'm just gonna get a taxi to the hotel instead."

"They're gonna love you being with me," I say, grinning as I look at him. "And besides, I love you being here with me. Doesn't my opinion matter more?"

Danny rolls his eyes. "Yes, okay, maybe."

I flash him a grin as we step up onto the sidewalk in front of the building we're supposed to go into. I pull open the front door and wait for Danny to enter before I follow him inside. And I try really hard to breathe past the nerves bouncing around inside me.

"I'm supposed to let the person at the admin desk know that I'm here," I say, glancing toward Danny. "Let me see the map?"

He hands it to me and I scan down the areas of the building we're in, all clearly labeled in different colors to help with navigation. We're close to the admin desk where we are now, so I fold the map and tuck it away in my back pocket.

Danny slips his hand in mine again when we start walking and he gives my hand a final squeeze just before we come to a stop at the admin desk. He lets go of my hand and hangs back, leaving me to step up to the desk. I try to breathe calm back into my bones and paste a smile on my face just as the woman looks up at me.

She does a double take when she sees me and I short-circuit, remembering the state of my nose again. I know it's looking better but it's still bruised. Still obviously noticeable.

"Hi, I'm supposed to meet Mr. Burke at noon?" I say more as a question.

The woman's eyebrows pull together and she looks down at her screen. "Yes, I remember putting this on the schedule. One second… are you Mr. Baxter?" She looks up at me with the question.

Hearing my last name sends Dad's face through my mind, anxiety trickling through my veins.

"Yes, that's me," I say, letting out a breath as she nods and drops her stare down to her computer. I draw a breath through my nose and hold it to the count of five. The way Danny taught me to.

"Okay. I'll let him know you're here. There's a seating area just around the corner if you'd like to take a seat while you wait," she says, gesturing toward the corner with a pen.

I look in the direction she's pointed before I look back to her, giving another smile. "Okay. Thank you."

She nods and I step away from the desk, breathing a sigh of relief as my gaze finds Danny. He follows me as I start away from the desk and my insides are shaky as I turn the corner to the seating area. It's only a few chairs set up in a recessed area of the hallway with a water cooler on one side of the room.

"You know, I'm really proud of you," Danny says, a small smile on his face when I look his way. He nods toward the seats and waits until we're both sitting before he continues. "You've got all these options for where you could go after graduation and you're doing a good thing by taking your time and looking into all the opportunities. Some people just blindly say yes to the first place that'll take them."

I drop my hand down to the tile below us. I don't feel like I'm doing a good thing right now. I feel like I'm out of place already. "Thanks."

Danny takes my hand. "I mean it. You're really talented and any school is going to be lucky to have you."

I look up, a response on the tip of my tongue but some guy comes to a stop in front of us. Almost unconsciously, I pull my hand from Danny's.

"Hey, Dash. I'm David, DALV's athletic director," he says, extending his hand out toward me. He's smiling but it briefly dims as he takes in the state of my nose.

I stand despite the shakiness in my legs and take a step closer to him so I can take his hand. "Hi. It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise," he says, his smile returning as he shifts his stare to Danny. "And who's this you've brought with you?"

Danny gets to his feet, giving me a soft smile. It's a gentle and understanding expression. Like he's saying he doesn't care if I lie — tell this guy that Danny's just a friend. But he's not. And I don't want to start this off with a lie.

"This is my boyfriend, Danny," I say, trying desperately to ignore the chill that runs down my spine.

The word doesn't affect David at all, his smile never falters. He just bobs his head and extends his hand toward Danny.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, giving Danny's hand a firm shake before he pulls back. He looks at me again. "Coach Raine will be meeting us later on but for now, I'd like to start with a tour of our campus if that sounds good to you."

"That sounds great," I say.

He gives me a smile and gestures toward the hallway. "Excellent. We'll start with the east side of campus."

I fall in line with David as we start down the hallway but Danny lags behind us. He gives me a smile when I glance over my shoulder so I don't slow my pace.

"How long have you been the athletic director here?" I ask as we turn the corner.

David makes a soft noise. "Oh, about six years now."

We reach the end of the hall and David opens the door we entered through. He holds it open until Danny and I are both outside.

"I worked for a different university before but my wife wanted to be closer to family. It's been DALV ever since," David says, giving me a smile as we walk down the stairs and step off onto the sidewalk. "What are you thinking of majoring in?"

I almost blank out there, almost say nothing because Danny's right behind us. But I draw in a breath, drag up some courage, and speak anyway.

"I've been considering English," I say.

"Oh, that's interesting. Do you know what you'd want to do with that degree?" he asks, smiling at two students we pass by on the sidewalk.

I lift one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm not… really sure yet."

David nods. "I understand. I'm sure you'll figure it out during your time at college." He points to a building across from me. "That's the Campus Center — it houses the bookstore, a cafe, and theatre as well as a few other student resources."

"Can I ask what your acceptance rate is?" Danny asks.

David turns to look at him over his shoulder, slowing his pace. "Yeah, of course — no questions are off-limits here. Our acceptance rate is currently around thirty percent."

Danny bobs his head in response, his gaze drifting out to the buildings across from us. "This is a really beautiful campus."

"Ahh, it really is," David says, giving him a smile before his gaze shifts back to me. "Past the Campus Center, that building with the green sign in front, that's one of our class halls. Beyond that is one of the dorm buildings."

I look at the building he's gestured to and try to picture myself walking down the steps in the mornings. Joining the throngs of other students all walking to class. Trading stories and study notes and… fuck, I could see myself here.

"I've arranged for you to meet with a few players from the team in there in about ten minutes," David says, nodding when I look back at him. "I figured who better to tell you about the team than the guys on it, huh?"

I nod. "Yeah, that makes sense. Thank you."

"Of course," he says, nodding in the direction of the dorm building.

We step off the pathway and into the grass, crossing a short strip until we're back on a pathway again. I turn his words over in my mind before I look at him again. The players can tell me about each other and what it's like to play for DALV. But I wanna know what David thinks.

"What can you tell me about the team?" I ask.

He inclines his head toward me, curiosity in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… how does the team function?" I ask, continuing when David's gaze darts away like he's thinking. "I've watched a few of the games, some reruns and highlights, but I'm not asking about stats. I mean how does everyone on the team function together?"

David makes a soft noise. "Honestly? We function well. Mostly due to being more than just a team playing the field. We're a family out there as well as right here on the rest of campus. We do what we do together, always. Coach Raine must have seen that in you to invite you out here like this."

This flush radiates through me and I can't stop the smile from pulling at me. Coach Raine must have seen something in me.

This warmth and excitement fill my chest at the enthusiasm David has for this team. I want to be a part of something like this. Something like the Ravens. Where winning is just as important as our teamwork. Win or lose, we've always been a team. I want something like that wherever I go.

"So, when did you take an interest in the sport?" David asks, looking toward me as we pass the Campus Center building.

I shrug, sliding my hands into the back pockets of my jeans. "Forever, I guess? I started in pee-wee and kept going from there."

"That makes sense. Your parents get you into it?"

It's just a question. He doesn't mean anything by it but this dread still trickles down my spine like cold rain. My parents got me into the sport but I don't think they get to have any of the credit here. They've both lost that privilege.

"Not really. It's just always been my thing," I say instead.

David nods oblivious to the way my breath is still hitched. "I got started young as well. My older brothers were on the team so it was kind of natural for me. One of my brothers went on to play for the NFL for a while after college."

"No kidding," I say, grinning at the look of pride on David's face.

"You didn't go on to play after college?" Danny asks.

David's expression loses some of the lightness but he still offers up a smile as his gaze shifts to Danny. "It's a classic story — I tore something in my leg during a college game. Tried some rehabilitative exercises for years, and kept trying to play but… it wasn't happening anymore. My sports days were over."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Danny says, frowning when I glance over my shoulder at him.

David shrugs. "It's alright. I've made my peace with it. I turned to coaching instead."

Listening to David talk about this school and his life works to squeeze a wedge of calm into my chest. The nerves aren't eating me alive anymore.

"Ah, here we are," he says, coming to a stop in front of a building. It looks like the others on the outside, with a small brown sign above the door, reading Windsor Hall.

David opens the door and holds it for the two of us. He follows us inside and takes the lead again. We follow him to a common area where groups of students are gathered. Some are pouring over textbooks and others are sitting on the floor with their laptops and wearing headphones. Nobody looks up as we enter but David knows who we're looking for.

He leads us through the room, past all the tables filled with people studying, and the groups of computers on individual desks. A few people look up as we pass but no one says anything to us. On the other side of the room is a half-circle of armchairs, two guys lounging in a few of them. One of the guys is wearing a hoodie and jeans, white sneakers on. The other stands out in a sleeveless shirt, floral shorts, and flip-flops. He's got on a baseball cap turned backward, a grin on his face as the other guy talks. They both look up as we approach.

"James, Logan, thanks so much for meeting us," David says, holding his hand out toward them both and shaking their hands when they stand from the chairs. He turns to look at me. "These are two of our players, James Mondrich and Logan Grant. Logan, James, this is Dash Baxter."

James is built a lot like me. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, average waist… not a bad shape for a quarterback. But something in my gut tells me he's a linebacker.

Logan is the complete opposite, he's tall and lean with skinny arms and legs. He laughs when he meets my gaze.

"Yeah, everyone's gotta do a double take when they hear I play football." He extends his hand toward me anyway. His brows pull together as his eyes move over my face. "It's nice to meet you, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, too," I say, shaking his hand once before I extend it to James. He gives me the same bewildered look and I remember my nose, this hot flush racing through me.

James shakes my hand firmly and surprises me by not asking about my nose. "He might not be as bulky as the rest of us but dude's sharp as a whip on the field."

"To answer your question, I'm a running back," Logan says, grinning when I look back toward him. "I know you haven't asked yet but you were thinking it."

Yeah, I really was.

I look at James. "I'm guessing you're a… linebacker?"

He stands a little taller at that, squares his shoulders, and gives me a wide grin. "What gave it away?"

"I don't know. Your build is kind of similar to mine. My coach thought I could make a good linebacker if I wanted," I say.

"What position are you?" Logan asks.

I earn David's stare now and I don't understand the flush rising to my cheeks. "I uhh… I play quarterback."

"Hold up. Where are you from again?" Logan asks, adjusting the baseball cap on his head.

"Amity Park." I catch the curiosity so I give a little more to go on. "It's just south of Elmerton."

His face lights up. "No fucking way! I played you guys the season before last."

"Really?"

He bobs his head. "Yeah, man. I played running back for Livermore." He cups one hand around his mouth as he bellows out, "Go Lions!"

Several people look our way, some disgruntled at the interruption, but Logan just grins. And James rolls his eyes but there's a playful fondness to it. Like Logan's always loud and James is used to it. And damn it, it's like watching my teammates. My friends.

"So, what you're really saying is that you helped kick our asses for years," I say, grinning.

Logan laughs, leaning forward to clap me on the shoulder. "You said it. Livermore's the best."

"You know you guys lost last year, right? To us — the mighty Ravens." I can't help the pride in my voice. That was a great fucking win last year.

He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "Ugh. I owe my dad twenty bucks. I really thought the team had it in them to win."

"James, would you mind giving Carson a call? Have him meet us here," David says, flashing a smile my way before he looks back to James.

I'm not given a chance to ask who Carson is before Logan launches into the story of his senior year game, the final championship game against Elmerton. We didn't make it past the first few rounds of the playoffs that year so we didn't get to see the championship game. No point in traveling out of town for a high school game when your team lost.

Danny's nodding as Logan looks between the two of us but I wonder how much of this is going over his head. I don't know how much football terminology Danny even understands.

"Oh, hey, here's the man of the hour," David says, smiling at a guy walking our way. I assume he must be Carson.

He's bigger than James and me, closer to Dale's build. And he's tall as fuck, too, at least a few inches above me. I unconsciously straighten my posture as he comes to a stop in front of us.

"Hey Carson, thanks for meeting us here. This is Dash Baxter, he's taking a tour of the campus today," David says, gesturing to me before he looks back to Carson. "Why don't you take him down to the cafe? I'll meet you two over there."

Carson shifts his gaze from David to me, giving a nod. "Sure." His voice is quiet on the one word as his gaze slides to Danny. "You guys like coffee?"

"Yes, definitely," Danny says, giving me a small smile when I look at him.

"I can't function without it," I say, earning a laugh from David. Carson merely nods again. I draw in a breath and look back to James and Logan. "It was nice meeting you two."

Logan holds his fist out for a bump. "Yeah, of course. I hope I see you on the field soon a Livermore and an Amity Park star together on the same team? We'll blow people's minds."

I laugh and give him a fist bump before I offer one to James. David smiles at me and repeats that he'll meet me over at the cafe before the three of us start away from them.

Carson leads the way past the desks set up with computers and all the students gathered at various tables and on the floor. Once we're outside, he matches my pace, Danny falling behind us.

"So. You're gay?"

My heart skips and the breath I draw in is more of a gasp. I look back at Danny, his eyebrows high on his forehead, eyes wide. I open and close my mouth a dozen times, trying to figure out what to say in response or even how he's figured it out.

"Am I… that obvious?" I ask, swallowing hard when I earn Carson's stare.

His gaze sweeps down my frame before he meets my gaze. "No."

He looks away from me, continuing down the pathway in silence. I glance at Danny again but he still looks just as confused as I feel. That's such a specific thing to ask to just be making conversation.

"Then… why would you ask me that?"

Carson steps off the pathway and into the grass, out of the way of some passing students before he rejoins me on the path. "If Coach Raine or Mr. Burke asks me to meet somebody looking into our team, it's because they're queer."

That word stings, the memory of those truck drivers' laughter ricocheting off the bathroom walls forever embedded in my mind. But Carson says the word softly — like it's not an awful thing to say. And Danny doesn't react to the use of the word so… maybe I overreacted before.

"Why do they have you meet them?"

He lets out a quiet breath, his gaze shifting away from me. "Because I was attacked after someone found out that I'm gay."

Oh fuck.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Danny says, earning Carson's stare. It's fleeting but Danny still gives him an apologetic look that Carson nods at.

"It happened in the second semester of my freshman year." He comes to a stop outside the cafe, turning to face me now, his expression unreadable. It's like he doesn't want me guessing how much this has affected him.

I can't help the question. "Why would either of them want you to tell me something like this? It's… it happened to you, not them."

"Yes, but it happened on our campus. If you look up DALV on the internet, that story comes up. Along with a slew of people that still say this school is a bad place to go to if you're queer." Carson lets out a breath, looking away from me again. "But I tell everyone that Coach Raine was instrumental in helping locate the guy that attacked me. He's been in my corner from the day it happened. And I always pass the message along to my teammates that if something happens to you, Coach'll help you through it."

Damn. I can't imagine being in his position. To have not only his coach but the athletic director ask him to tell people this story again and again… I don't know what kind of person could ask that of someone. Just thinking about what happened to Nik that night after the winter formal puts my stomach in knots. He could barely tell us the story — I couldn't imagine him telling numerous strangers about it.

Carson looks back at me, frowning at the expression on my face. "Don't think that they make me have this conversation with potential athletic students. I approached them about it."

"Why would you do that?" I ask, unable to stop myself from asking questions. "To tell people over and over again about it, I… I don't know how you could do something like that."

Carson lets out a breath, flicking his stare away from me. "Because I know some people think that it's safer to keep quiet about your sexuality but I don't endorse that kind of thinking. Even after what happened to me, I'm happier being out than I ever was living in the closet."

All I can picture is Nik's bloody and bruised face looking up at me, telling me that it's okay that Zane beat the shit out of him. And asking me not to say anything to anyone.

"Did… David ask you to meet with me to convince me to keep quiet about my boyfriend if I attend here in the fall?" I ask.

Carson shakes his head but he keeps his gaze away from me. "No. Mr. Burke's a good man. He probably wants you to see that if you were attending here, you'd have support. People that understand you, people like you." He looks at me now, offering up a shrug. "I didn't know many queer athletes when I started attending DALV. And I've wondered every day since my attack if whether I'd had support from the beginning would have changed what happened to me."

God, this is like a punch to the gut. I know some of my teammates back home date guys, too but… I guess I didn't think about what it would be like when I went to college. I'm not sure I ever imagined I'd meet another person like them.

Carson doesn't wait for a response from me, he just nods to the front of the cafe. "Come on. I'll get you guys some coffee."

He pulls open the front door and holds it open until Danny and I step through. He leads the way over to the counter and orders a coffee for himself before he looks at the two of us.

"I'll take a black coffee, with room for sugar and cream," I say.

The guy behind the counter takes the order and looks at Danny. And he, in true Danny fashion, orders the most ridiculously over-sugared thing on the menu.

"What?" Danny asks, blushing when I look at him. "You know I like sugar."

I roll my eyes but I can't help the smile. "I know you do."

He playfully swats me on the arm before moving down with me, waiting at the end for our coffees. Carson's coffee and mine come up first and Carson nods toward one of the tables on the other side of the cafe.

"Let's sit while we wait for Mr. Burke to meet you here," Carson says as I join him. He settles down at the table and stretches his legs out with a sigh.

I sit across from him, looking toward Danny before my gaze returns to Carson. "Thanks for… telling me about that. It's probably not easy for you to talk about something like that."

Carson lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "If it lets other queer students know that they have somebody to turn to, I don't care who I tell the story to." He leans back in his chair and sips from his coffee. "Listen. If you have any questions about attending here, ask me anything."

"What's it like?" I ask, looking away from him and around at the cafe we're sitting in. "What's college like at all?"

He lets out a quiet breath. "It's a lot different than high school. I know that's something that everyone says but it's said because it's true. College is a completely different environment filled with so many different people." Carson shifts his gaze away from me when I look back at him. "You learn a lot about yourself in the process. Of course, attending college is about learning and playing the sport you're recruited for if you are but it's also about you. Discovering the kind of person you are or want to become along the way."

"And what's it like playing here? For DALV?" I ask.

That brings a smile to his face — the first smile he's had. "It's like I've known my teammates my whole life. We're a family. They've always had my back and I'll always have theirs." He inclines his head to one side, the smile disappearing. "What about you? What's your favorite thing about football?"

"Kind of the same. Being part of a team is… there's nothing like it," I say, dropping my stare from Carson when he nods. I turn my stare out to the rest of the cafe, catching sight of Danny turning away from the counter.

He has his drink now, straw stuck down in some purple-y pink concoction — a huge grin on his face as he sips on it. He's heading our way but I look back to Carson, asking anyway.

"Other than… what you told me, do you think your experience here is different because of who you are?" I ask.

Carson meets my stare at that, his gaze flitting to Danny as he pulls out the chair next to me. He watches Danny sit before he looks back at me. "Different how? Because I'm an athlete or because I'm gay?"

I lift one shoulder in a shrug, aware of Danny's gaze on me. "Both, I guess."

"Athletes are treated the same as other students. Coach Raine doesn't believe in coddling anyone on the football team." He drops his stare down to the table. "After my attack, I was given a grace period, a time to recover from everything. But when I told him I was ready to rejoin practices, no one handled me with kid gloves. I was still expected to show up as the best version of myself on and off the field."

I swallow hard, a question on the tip of my tongue but Carson speaks again.

"As for being gay, I can't speak to whether my experience has been different or not. I came here out of the closet. I never had any experience where people thought I was anything other than who I am," Carson says, giving me a nod when I meet his stare. "If you attend, you should come the same way. Tell people you're gay when you meet them. Be out so no one can threaten to out you later on."

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. "Yeah. I'm uh… I'm bisexual, by the way."

Carson's eyebrows pull together and his gaze slides toward Danny before he meets my stare again. "Really?"

"Yeah." I feel the heat on my face the longer he looks at me. "Why? Is that hard to believe?"

He shakes his head. "Not hard to believe at all. You just didn't correct me when I asked you so I didn't assume you were anything else."

The front door to the cafe opens and I look toward the sound. David's just stepped inside, his phone to his ear and I look away from him, back to Carson.

"Thanks for talking with me. I appreciate it," I say, holding my hand out toward Carson.

He takes it, giving me a firm handshake before he pulls his hand back. "Of course. If you have any questions, I can give you my number."

I glance toward Danny before I take my phone from my back pocket. I slide it across the table to Carson. He puts his number in my phone before he slides it across the table toward me.

"You seem like you've got a passion for the sport. And honestly, DALV would be lucky to have someone like you attending here," Carson says, scooting his chair back from the table and getting to his feet.

I'm quick to follow suit. "Thanks. I just want to play ball, you know?"

He nods. "I know the feeling. Next year will be the last year for me and I already know I'm going to miss it."

"You're not interested in playing beyond college?" Danny asks, standing next to me now.

Carson shakes his head, looking at Danny. "No. It's not the right career path for me, no matter how much I love the sport."

"Hey, boys," David says, coming to a stop where we're standing. He's off the phone now and he offers me a smile before he looks to Carson. "Thanks for meeting with him. You should get back to studying though, I wouldn't want Coach Raine to take it out of both of our asses if you mess up your test on Friday."

Carson lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "I won't mess up. But thank you." He looks at me again. "It was nice meeting you, Dash. I hope you're on the field with me this fall."

This warmth rushes through me and I can't stop the grin. "Thank you."

He nods again, stepping past David and starting out of the cafe. I watch him go until David speaks.

"Would you be interested in seeing the field?" he asks, looking between us.

I nod. "Yeah, that'd be good. We have to check into our hotel before four-thirty though," I say, looking to Danny who nods.

"Perfect. We'll finish up here and you two can have a chance to check into your hotel before we meet with Coach Raine for dinner." David turns around, starting out of the cafe again.

I take Danny's hand in my own as we start out of the cafe together. He squeezes my palm as we step off into the grass and despite the story Carson told me, I don't let go of his hand as we pass students and teachers. I don't care who sees me with Danny. If this is the college I end up attending in the fall, I want to be like Carson. I want the people here to know me as me.

---

The football field is just as impressive as the one at Amridge. It feels bigger than the one back in Amity Park even though it's the same size. Something about being outside of my tiny town just makes the things around me feel bigger, I guess. Like there's a whole other world out there waiting for me.

David walks us around the field and across to the other side of campus. He tells us about when the school was founded and some of the local attractions near DALV. He talks a lot about team spirit and how winning is just one part of the equation. He really emphasizes the importance of working together and sometimes, it feels like Coach Brimfield's talking to me.

By the time Danny and I leave campus to check in at our hotel, I feel like this weight's left my shoulders. This seems like a great school. And I like the guys I met on the team. In a lot of ways, this feels like the perfect place for me to attend this fall.

Danny and I don't talk about DALV on our way to our hotel, too busy checking directions and making sure I don't miss the turn. I want to ask Danny what he thinks of it though. But every time I almost do, the conversation I had with his dad flashes through my head. I don't want Danny attending a college just because it's where I'm going. His dad's right — he should choose a place he wants to go.

As if summoned just by my thoughts, Danny's dad calls him as soon as we've checked in. I leave my suitcase by the bed and tell him to text me when he's off the phone. I kinda wanna call Alex anyway.

There's this nervous energy racing through me that pacing the halls just doesn't get rid of. I take the elevator down to the lobby and wander into the pool room, the sound of the door closing behind me echoing off the walls and the water.

My phone rings twice before Alex answers, his voice just the steady calm I needed on his quiet hello.

"Hey," I respond, unable to stop myself from grinning. He lets out a quiet breath and I remember this morning. When he slept in. "How… how are things at home?"

"They're good. Kendra and I are just about to make dinner actually," he says. He starts to say something else but I cut him off.

"And you're… you're good right?" I ask.

Alex makes a soft noise, his tone somewhat confused when he speaks. "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

I shrug even though he can't see me and pace a lazy circle around the side of the pool. "I don't know. I didn't get to see you this morning. Kendra said she was letting you sleep in."

"Oh, yeah. I'm alright, don't worry about me," he says.

The words try to stick in my throat but I make them come out anyway. "Was it like… did you have a nightmare?"

He lets out a breath quietly. "No, nothing like that. It's just… you know, stuff."

"From before?" I ask, my breath catching in my throat. "Like with… with what you said the other day? The… the PTSD stuff?"

Alex doesn't respond for nearly a minute and his voice is quiet when he finally speaks. "You don't have to ask me about it, Dash. I know you're not comfortable talking about it."

I draw in a breath through my nose. Flick my gaze to the ceiling overhead. He's right, I'm not comfortable talking about it. But that shouldn't be an excuse I fall back on. Because if I don't talk about it with him now, I don't know that I'll ever bring it up again.

"I-It's fine. I… I want to talk to you about it," I say, my voice almost a whisper even though it's only me in this pool room.

Alex makes a soft noise. "Alright. Then, yes, I did have some issues related to it last night."

"What uhh… what kind of issues?" I ask, squeezing my eyes closed in the silence that follows.

"I've been having a few recurring flashbacks lately. It's nothing new, it just seemed particularly intense last night." He continues at my silence. "But I'm alright. You don't need to worry about me, alright?"

I let out a breath through my nose and open my eyes, staring up at the ceiling again. "Yeah? How do you… like what do you do when it's… when you're… like that?"

"Usually I work on it with some coping strategies that my last therapist taught me. Sometimes I call Chuck." He makes a soft noise. "Actually, in the past, I called Chuck pretty often."

"Did you call him last night?"

Alex lets out a breath and it sounds staticky on my end. "No. We're not… we're getting back to a place where we can call each other like that but not… we're not there yet."

I start to ask him something else about it but he cuts me off.

"Anyway. I don't want you thinking about that right now, alright? I promise you that I'm okay. Tell me about the college. What do you think of it so far? Does it seem like the right place for you?"

I don't know why tears well up in my eyes but I can't blink them away. And they bring along a lump in my throat as they sting my eyes. "Y-Yeah, it's… um… it seems like a great school."

Alex is quiet for a few seconds but when he speaks, his voice is gentle. "Are you alright?"

Oh god, of course, he can tell that I'm choking back tears. But this isn't the usual phone call he'd get from me. I'm not sad — I'm nowhere close to sad. It's just that it's been a long time since I've had a reason to have this kind of happiness coursing through me.

"Yeah, everything's good. It's actually great, I just… god. I never… a year ago, I didn't think I would even… and now I'm…"

I'm not finishing anything that I'm saying but Alex seems to get it, a quiet understanding noise sounding over the phone.

"Never thought you'd get to go to college, huh?"

"Not just go to college but play for their team, too. And they want me, Alex. Not as a backup option or a reserve player, they want me on the team. They… they want me to play."

He makes a gentle sort of noise now and I can hear the smile in his voice when he talks. "Dash, that's really great. I'm so proud of you."

Those damn tears spill over but I'm grinning and Alex is proud of me and I don't think I've ever been this happy in my whole goddamn life.

---

By the time Danny and I both get off our phone calls, we've only got half an hour before we're supposed to meet them for dinner. I opt to drive around the area to kill time. And the two of us pointing out the things I'd be near if I choose to go to this college has me a whole new level of excited. I think this is the place for me. I feel it deep in my gut.

Danny and I get to the restaurant early but we still arrive after David. He's waiting inside at the hostess station for us and he waves us over with a smile.

The hostess shows us to our table without a wait and sets out menus in front of the three of us, along with one for the empty chair next to David, the one for Coach Raine.

I order a water, same as Danny, but David orders a beer. As the hostess leaves with the drink orders, David clasps his hands together on top of his menu and looks at me.

"So, tell me about you. What are your interests outside of football?"

Nerves pick at me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. But I do my best to breathe past them. "I uh… I like… cars."

It's probably the least eloquent sentence I've said since meeting him. Maybe in my whole damn life. And I sort of want to die when he tilts his head to one side in curiosity. Danny's quick to jump to my rescue.

"What he means to say is that he's a natural-born mechanic."

David shifts his gaze from me to Danny and back again. "Yeah?"

I nod, too numb to speak and Danny easily fills the silence.

"Dash is great with machines. He excels at figuring out the logistics behind a problem. He's incredibly quick at diagnosing what's wrong with a car and can solve it very efficiently."

Fuck, if I ever default back to a mechanic instead of going to college, I'm getting Danny to write up some ads for the garage.

I feel the familiar warmth blooming through my chest whenever talk turns to the garage. Off the football field, it's the best place in the world. I feel like I'm destined to always split my time between the field and an auto-garage. Preferably Alex's garage.

"You sound like a hard worker," David says, his gaze on me again.

It's hard to speak past the nerves but I do anyway. "I am. I bring my all every shift."

His gaze shifts to Danny now. "And what about you? Are you here for Dash or are you interested in attending DALV University, too?"

Danny's face colors now that the attention's on him. He opens and closes his mouth with no sound before he looks at me. Like I know the answer.

"Hey, guys. I apologize, I know I'm late," someone's voice breaks through the silence, saving Danny from having to answer.

I look away from Danny and see Coach Raine standing next to the empty chair. He's kind of exactly what I pictured whenever I thought of a college coach. He's stocky like Coach Brimfield but taller, his head nearly brushing the light over our table as he pulls the empty chair out from under the table.

"Traffic was a bit of a nightmare coming off the interstate," Coach Raine says, draping his jacket over the back of the empty chair saved for him. He looks at David before his stare shifts over to me. "Dash, I must say, it's great to finally meet you."

He extends his hand out toward me and I rise from my chair, grasping his strong, sturdy hand in my completely shaky and sweaty one.

"I-It's nice to meet you, too," I say.

Coach Raine's grip on my hand is firm. "Your highlight reel is amazing, son. I hope you know that."

My coach has said it before but hearing it from him brings that same warmth back into my chest. "Thank you, Mr. Raine."

He makes a face. "Please, call me Patrick." His stare moves from me to Danny as he settles down in his chair with a quiet sigh. "Ahh… and who's this?"

"Um… hi. I'm Danny." His face is pink when I look at him and though he looks at me with his eyebrows raised, I'm the one to say it.

I look back at Patrick. "This is my boyfriend. I asked him to come check out the campus with me."

"Oh, that's nice. It's always great to see our athletes have someone with them." Patrick nods once before his eyebrows pull together. "I am curious though. Neither of your parents could accompany you?"

My breath catches in my throat and Danny immediately slips his hand beneath the table, placing it on my thigh. He's gentle with his touch and subtle, too. Not drawing attention to the fact that a simple question made my breath catch. I try to let his touch work to ease the aching still in my chest.

They should be here with me. I should have decent enough parents that I could have brought one of them here with me.

"No, my parents aren't really in my life anymore," I admit, heat rising to my face at the curious look I earn from both Patrick and David. "They're just… they're not… good people. N-Not to me."

It's an awkward way to put it but it's the only truth I know. And I don't feel like telling any lies tonight. I don't think either of my parents deserve that kind of courtesy anymore.

Patrick's the first to respond. "I'm sorry to hear that. But I'm glad you could make it today regardless." He drops his stare from me and picks up his menu. "Alright. What have I missed then?"

"Dash was telling me how he works at an auto garage," David says, nodding when Patrick looks at him. "He sounds like he works very hard. Very… dedicated."

I wonder why David hesitated but it makes Patrick smile wide, his gaze returning to me.

"Good. No one works harder than the Devils so I'd expect you to bring that to the field should you choose DALV as your university." Patrick grins. "Our boys work hard on and off the field as I'm sure you've heard."

"That's the Ravens model, too," I say, trying to smile and dismiss thoughts of my parents at the same time. It's not easy.

Patrick sets his menu down again. "Speaking of, I have to ask. The championship game, that final play… Coach Brimfield told you to run it?"

I nod.

David whistles quietly. "Against a team like Livermore? With a quarterback like Joss Flinn? That's a risky move."

"Yeah but… we've played Livermore previously. It's not like we were going in blind. It was calculated," I say, a laugh spilling from me at the look they give each other. "Well… half-calculated. It was still kind of risky."

Patrick nods. "Obviously. I've always thought Brimfield made ballsy moves with his players but that was next level."

"The whole season could have been thrown on that last play." David looks at me again. "You have to realize how much attention the game's gotten. How many eyes were on you in those last few moments."

I haven't thought about it much since the season ended. Coach has been the one talking to schools for me. I'm still kind of shell-shocked that any school would even be interested in me. It's just football, it's not like it makes me some kind of god.

"Listen, son. I know you've had other offers. You're a talented kid and it's no wonder you've got so many people interested in you now. And if I thought I could convince you to join the team over one dinner, I'd be giving it everything I've got. But I know you've got a lot of thinking to do." Patrick lets out a breath, a smile on his face as he continues. "Just keep us in mind. I think you could fit in here."

I almost want him to try and convince me. I really like the feeling I got when I was on the campus. And on the field. And listening to the players on the team talk, I just… it felt right. And I know other schools are interested in me and hell, maybe I'll change my mind. But if they want me, I don't think it's too selfish to see how they'd fight for me.

"Out of curiosity… what would you be saying if you were trying to convince me to join?"

Patrick's eyes light up. He leans forward, tapping the table with his index finger. "Other universities are going to offer you incentives to join them. They'll promise you dreams of grandeur and highlight the athletes all over their campus — DALV isn't like that. We've never given special treatment to any athlete. If anything, we expect more from our athletes than the rest of the student body. Being a part of this team isn't easy, we'll make you work harder than any other team ever will. But it's only because we believe in you. We'd never take on a player we didn't think had the DALV spirit. And once you're on the team, you're one of us for life. We're a family here. And family sticks together through thick and thin."

David nods, making a soft noise as he looks from Patrick to me. "It's true. The team pulls together when times are tough."

"When Brimfield sent over your highlight reel, I kept going back to it. I must have watched it over a dozen times, trying to pick out what it was about you." Patrick tsks softly, shaking his head. "I'm still not entirely sure. But there's some kind of spark in you — some kind of passion that you don't see in every athlete. It wouldn't quit nagging at me and I knew we had to make you an offer. At least talk to you and try to get you on the team."

Goosebumps rise on my skin, despite the jacketI'm wearing. His words ignite something in me. Maybe DALV won't end up being the university I go with but even if it isn't, I'm glad I met with these guys. It's reminded me of what this whole sport is about. Why I fell in love with it in the first place.

"Thank you. I appreciate your vote of confidence in me," I say, feeling far more eloquent than how I started this dinner. I give them both a smile when they look at me.

The smile Patrick gives me in return is understanding. "As I said, you've got other schools, other offers to consider. Just think about this campus and the kind of people we are when you're thinking over your options."

"I will," I say, this overwhelming giddiness bubbling up inside my chest. I can't believe I have options now. I can go home, take my time, and consider everything before I make a choice. And maybe… maybe I'll get the chance to factor Danny into my decision. His dad might not want him making a decision based on where I'm going but he never said anything about me choosing my college based on Danny's choice.

There's a loud ringtone sounding from somewhere pretty close to us in the restaurant. It takes me a few seconds to realize that it's mine.

"Sorry, hang on," I say, flashing Patrick a smile before I pull my phone from my back pocket. And my heart nearly stops when I see the name on my screen.

I look back up at the others, barely mumbling that I have to take this call before I'm walking away from the table. I answer the call before I've even left the restaurant.

"Hello?"

Jeff lets out a quiet breath. "Hey, man. You wanted me to tell you if there was an update with Blake."

My stomach flips as I push open the front door and step out into the cold night air. Something's happened to him, I know it. I fucking know it. That day in the parking lot couldn't have been nothing, he—

"He called me."

I let out a strangled breath. "What? When?"

"Maybe half an hour ago? We just got off the phone. He says he's okay," Jeff says, giving me a moment to feel the relief before he swiftly takes it away. "He called me from a payphone in Dryden."

"What the hell is he doing in Dryden?" I ask, turning away from the restaurant and staring out into the parking lot as if Blake will magically appear in front of me.

Jeff lets out another breath. "I don't know. I asked him if he was coming back to Amity Park and he said he isn't sure. Said he needs more time to figure it out."

"Something happened to him," I barely breathe on the words and Jeff is quick to confirm.

"Definitely. He sounded really rattled by whatever it is. I almost want to drive up there and see if I can find him."

Fuck, I do, too. But if he's running from his parents then… I don't know what we can do. I can't blame him. And the two of us showing up when he's scrambling to keep it together would only complicate things for him. Make it worse.

"Do you think there's anything we can do?"

Jeff lets out a sigh. "No. I think the only thing we can do is hope he comes back. And that he's okay when he does."

I remember the nights I'd crash at Kwan's place when shit got rough with Dad. I remember staying with Alex for a couple of nights last year when Dad took off. But I knew when it was over with Dad — when I had to leave his place for good. And at least I had Alex to run to. Who does Blake have? If he doesn't come back, where will he go?

---

A/N:

Ayyyy, it's your favorite angst writer back at it againnnn. Did you miss me? I know this is like a month late — I'm sorry, life's been hectic as fuck. Between some family medical emergencies, life drama, and other writing projects, I honestly have not had the time I should have to put into this story. I promise what time I did have, I dedicated it to editing this chapter. And boy have I missed this thing

SO… was this chapter worth the wait? Was this 40k+ chapter exactly what you were hoping it would be? Is it riddled with typos and inconsistencies? The answer to at least one of those questions is yes lmao

I've been over this chapter what feels like a hundred times, changing little things here and there since my last update. I like the way it turned out. I like that we're finally here, at these little glimpses of Dash being happy. Obviously, it's not all rainbows and sunshine — he's still got a lot of shit to unpack from both of his parents and his whole fucked up childhood.

The title of this chapter comes from Heaven by Troye Sivan. Honestly, the whole song is very Stay in general but… I don't know. Something about this chapter with Dash going to look at this college that he could potentially attend, talking with Carson about his sexuality, and even trying to hear Alex out about PTSD, I just feel like it's a very fitting song in general. And the idea of him wanting to be set free is a pretty central Stay theme so… yeah, it definitely fits.

I wanted to mention something quick to you guys cause it's been bouncing around in my head since the beginning of the year. I know that some of you might be wondering if I'm dragging this out cause I don't want it to end or if I'm adding more angst just to have more angst to tell. And the answer is, of course I don't want this story to end. But things always come to an end and the end is in sight for this story. And I wanted to say that… the only way I know how to tell a story like this is honestly. And the shit that you went through as a child doesn't just go away when you move out or when you start dating someone or when you're pouring over college opportunities.

I want to be as honest with this story as I can and I know sometimes that means that the characters are sad or bad shit continues to happen to them and yeah that sucks. But there's always hope that things will get better and that's a thread I'll always weave throughout everything I write. Shit might be bad but there's always hope. And all I've ever wanted is to give that kind of hope back to you beautiful readers

Thanks so much for giving this story so much love all these years. Every update gets me all sappy and stupid and I would say sorry again but broken records and all that. So I'll just say thanks again and I can't wait to bring next chapter to you

In the next chapter, you can expect more shenanigans, domestic AF home scenes, and a surprising new addition to Dash's little family. I hope you guys enjoy it

See you next update!