Never before had Cody felt such pain.
Getting beaten up by Hawk and the Cobras that day in the bathroom, or even getting half of his bones broken by JD and Carol, had been nothing compared to this.
This pain was killing him. He was bleeding his heart out.
If he had thought that loving Sky without being loved back had been bad, he had known nothing. Then, at least, there had been hope, but now he didn't have even that. All hope was gone. Sky wasn't his anymore, she had cheated on him, she had left him, she had never, never, never loved him.
Never.
Cody craved death like he had never craved anything in his life. As hours passed and he lay in his bed, tears running down his cheeks, a horrible weight crushing his chest, his thoughts turned to the gun. After Sky had left that day after their fight, he had put the gun back into its case, had hid the case onto the upper shelf of his closet behind the pile of T-shirts and old comic books, disgusted by its sight, its presence, but now— now it was all he could think about. Pulling the trigger, putting a bullet in his brain.
There was no hope, no light.
Everything was black, an endless pit of suffering. Sky wasn't his anymore, she never would be, and this pain— this pain would never, ever end, not before he died.
He was in the bed, fully clothed still, in his jeans and his T-shirt, when David and Leigh came home from school. I'm sick, I'm just sick— He told them, hiding his bruised and bleeding face against the pillow - I just need rest, it's okay, It's just a stomach bug. And they believed him, let him be, brought him tea and sandwiches in the evening, which he didn't even touch. The nausea was turning his stomach, he ached all over, he was raw and broken inside out, and all night he cried into his pillow until his voice was hoarse, until there were no more tears.
The next day the sun rose hot and bright in the cloudless sky. How could the sun rise, when the world had ended? Cody only got out of bed, to close the curtains, and then he was back, pulling the covers over his aching head. Darkness, darkness, inside and out. That was all that existed, all he ever wanted. He didn't go to school. He couldn't. There was a hole in his chest, sucking away all light, all strength.
All morning his phone kept buzzing, as Tom and Jess kept calling him, but Cody didn't even pick up. He didn't answer any of Tom's messages either. There was nothing to say. His heart was broken - but to say it like that felt like such an understatement. Tom wouldn't understand. No one would. 'Cause everyone went through breakups, right? It wasn't a big deal. No one would understand why he was such a mess, why he was dying, why he would not survive this pain, this loss, this suffering that was his alone. No one could help him to bear it.
The loneliness was killing him. He missed Sky more than he had ever thought possible. She was the other half of his soul that was now ripped off, brutally, mercilessly, leaving behind only pain and darkness.
She had tried to call him, but Cody didn't pick up. There was nothing she could say that would fix this, that would ease his pain. The thought of her was a sword through his heart. In a whim of desperate pain and anger, he deleted her messages, erased Sky's number from his phone, and blocked her on social media - so that in a moment of weakness he wouldn't reach out to her and write her the only thing he wanted to write, Please, please, please take me back, even if you'll never love me, I don't care, just please take me back. Without you I have nothing.
Later that night, Tom came to see him. Cody must have slipped into a restless sleep, because one moment he was alone, but when a splitting headache forced him to shift and open his eyes, Tom was there, standing in the doorway, asking if he could come in.
Letting out a tense, painful sigh, Cody rolled onto his side, to hide his bruised and tear-stricken face from Tom.
"Are those— the same clothes you wore yesterday?" Tom asked, and Cody could hear the frown in his voice.
Cody didn't answer. Tears and bitter bile had burnt his throat so that he wasn't sure anything would come out if he spoke, besides - who the fuck even cared what he wore? So what if he was still in his jeans, in his blood-stained T-shirt? He had fallen into this bed after getting home the day before like a wounded soldier falls on the battlefield, and he was never getting up again.
"You didn't come to school," Tom hesitated, closing the door behind him. "Everyone's worried. Cody— is there something I can do?"
"No," Cody croaked, his words broken, painful. "She dumped me. There's nothing more to it."
The pain of saying those words took Cody's breath away. He was sure he would die, he hoped he would, he wanted this to end. Again he thought of the gun— all it would take was one shot, one shot, he would just need to pull the trigger once, and then there would be silence, there would be peace, he wouldn't have to suffer anymore, he wouldn't have to be so fucking alone—
A ragged sob escaped his lips and turned into a pathetic whimper, the kind of desperate, broken sound that he had never wanted anyone to hear him make, and the tears started flowing again. No, shit— not this again— He drew in a shaky breath and pressed his palms hard on his closed eyes, so hard that sparks and stars exploded in his vision, but nothing could stop the tears.
"I'm sorry—" Tom said, and Cody heard how he hesitantly walked closer, his soft but heavy footsteps nearing the bed. "I'm so sorry this happened. It's not fair."
Cody rolled around and buried his face against the pillow, swallowing the tears that were choking him, burning in his throat. He hated the pity in Tom's voice, the kindness. Best friends since middle school, and yet Tom had never seen Cody like this. Hell, before last week and the birthday party, Tom had never even seen him cry— and now, everything he had so carefully built all these years was shattered, ruined. He wasn't the guy he had been, the confident one, the smart one, the guy who let nothing affect him.
Tom would pity him now, Cody could already hear that in his voice. Their friendship wouldn't survive this. Why the fuck had he even come? Cody regretted ever telling him the truth about how he felt about Sky, regretted the day he had let his guard down like that, talking about love in the school cafeteria, so fucking stupid—.
"What do you want?" He forced the words out. "Why are you here?"
"To help. You need to get up, Cody— You need to eat and get changed, for starters."
"Not happening," he swallowed hard, the tears, the bile, the taste of blood filling his senses. His ears were ringing. "Just— leave. Go. I want to be alone."
"Maybe that's not the best idea."
"Just leave!" He yelled, sudden anger cracking his voice, his fist gripping the pillow in front of his face, the bloodied and bruised knuckles raw and ugly against the white cotton. Raw and ugly like everything in him.
The sigh Tom let out was so sad that it broke something in Cody's already broken chest.
"Cody, come on. Let's grab a beer. Let's talk about this. I know things are bad, but this isn't healthy. This isn't you."
"Maybe this is the real me," Cody groaned. "Maybe this is all I'll ever be. You need to leave. I don't want you here."
The tears were flowing down his face, making his voice wet and soaking the pillowcase, but he did everything he could so that Tom wouldn't notice. It was pathetic, he was pathetic, his love, his hope, all so fucking pathetic, he should have known better. Auntie Carol had been right, he was a little shit, he wasn't worthy of love, and no one who truly knew him would ever love him. Letting people near had been a huge mistake, it had made him lose everything.
"Are you sure?" Tom asked again, and more than anything Cody wanted to take back all he had said, he wanted to beg: Please, stay, please don't leave me alone, I am scared of myself and the things I might do.
But the words didn't come and the silence stretched long between them, filling the space like a living thing, until Tom finally left and he was alone again.
Cody had never minded being alone, but now the loneliness was killing him.
During the days and the hours that passed, he lost track of time, the touch to reality. Every time the door opened, an irrational hope that it was Sky, filled his chest. The days when he'd been bedridden after the Cobras had attacked him, were suddenly brought back through a wormhole in time and space, and he almost felt her scent in the room, the gentle touch of her hands when she helped him into the shower and washed the dried lumps of blood off his hair, when she fed him and helped him to drink, he could hear the sound of her voice when she sat on this bed for hours, reading the Cloud Atlas.
It was just a dream, of course. The reality was cold and hostile. His clothes were filthy, his face was bloodstained, his hair was a greasy matte against his scalp, and getting out of this bed was impossible - outside this room, there was a world that was still spinning around its axis, Earth orbiting the sun, and in that world there was still Sky, but she was no longer his, she never would be his, and that was a world Cody didn't want to see, one where didn't want to live in.
If he died here, he wouldn't have to. If he just stopped eating and drinking and closed his eyes, then maybe he wouldn't wake up the next morning. Maybe it would all be over by then—
He woke up at someone walking into his room, and for a fleeting moment he was sure it was Sky and his heart swelled, it filled his ribcage taking his breath away, but— as soon as his eyes focused, he realized that the short, feminine figure in the doorway wasn't her.
It was Jess.
There was a frown on her face, but not the worried kind but the kind she always had, one that made her look like she was ready to fight off an army.
She didn't hesitate like Tom had. She simply walked into the room as if she owned the place, took a seat on the bed next to Cody, and shook his shoulder not too gently.
"Hey, stinky, time to get up and take a shower. I could smell you from the next room."
"Go away," Cody groaned, a tight knot of anxiety forming in his gut again, as he buried his face in the pillow so that she couldn't see his face. His headache was growing even worse, and his stomach grumbled loudly, making him realize he hadn't eaten anything since Monday morning, and now— was it Wednesday already? He had lost count of days.
"Jesus Christ," Jess cursed and Cody could almost hear how she rolled her eyes. "This is even worse than I imagined. When's the last time you ate something? Or showered? You look like shit."
Cody muttered a curse and rolled onto his back, opening his burning, swollen eyes.
"Fuck off, Jess."
She let out a sigh and leaned her back against the headboard, crossing her slender, denim-covered legs at the ankles, making it obvious that she wasn't going anywhere. Her scent of lavender filled the air, her hair was shiny, her eyes shimmered like black onyx.
"I hate to be the one to say I told you so, but I told you so," she said, and there was a softness in her voice that cut the edge off her words. "That girl was nothing but trouble."
"Don't talk about her like that."
"I talk about her any way I want to. I'm not scared of her, or you. And I'll slap that bitch across the face the next time I see her."
Cody didn't answer. Words were sticky and heavy in his throat, shapeless lumps he couldn't force out. He closed his eyes again, his burning, aching eyes, and threw an arm over them to hide the fact that he was crying. But he couldn't hide the bobbing of his throat, the way his chest heaved with strangled breaths when he fought the tears, desperate not to fall apart in front of her. He had lost everyone else already. He couldn't lose Jess too.
"Did you— speak to Tom?" He rasped. "Is he— mad at me?"
"He's worried sick, you dumb fuck. He's your best friend, and you kick him out like that? You'd better call him and apologize."
Cody knew she was right, of course, but apologies were just more words that were all stuck in his throat. He didn't know if he could ever talk again without feeling like he was suffocating.
"You need to get out of bed," Jess continued, with a gentler tone. "Look, I know this sucks. I know you're heartbroken - not that she ever deserved your love, that heartless slut - but you need to get up, take a shower, and get changed. Let's have milkshakes. Fuck, I'll make you one if you want to, with blueberries and all."
"I can't," Cody breathed, a sudden burst of burning tears falling to his cheeks. "I can't. I just— I just wanna die. I— I gave everything. And now I have nothing. I'm nothing without her."
"That's bullshit," Jess snapped. "You were awesome before you ever met that bitch, and you're going to be awesome again."
"I wasn't awesome. I was an asshole."
God, the irony. Had he not been drowning in tears, he would have laughed. The way he had treated girls, had been awful. So desperate to feel something, to feel anything, to fill the hole in his chest, he had used those girls, had used their love, their devotion, their hearts, their bodies. He had taken all they had to give, and once he'd gotten bored, he had dumped them as if they meant nothing. He had broken so many hearts he couldn't even count them, and not once had he felt bad about it, but now—
Now he knew. The consequences of his disgusting acts were heavy on his chest, adding to his misery. He got the taste of his own medicine, and God, how bitter it was. It wasn't medicine at all, it was poison, it would kill him - and knowing he deserved it all, made it even worse.
"Well, whatever," Jess sighed, and her gentle hand was in his hair, brushing the greasy, filthy strands off his forehead. For a moment Cody let himself imagine that those were Sky's fingers running so softly through his hair, and his heart ached with love, with need, with the terrible loss he would never get over - but that image crashed and burned the moment Jess continued talking. It wasn't Sky here taking care of him, it never would be again. It was Jess, and she didn't even know who he really was.
"Maybe you were a bit of an asshole—" she spoke silently, "-but I miss that asshole. And he'd better make a comeback soon. It's not just me who needs you. The whole fucking drama club is falling apart. We're opening the show next week, and what's Dead Poets Society without Neil? Nothing. We literally can't do it without you."
"Yeah, you can," Cody sighed, swallowing bitter tears. "Joey can play Neil's part just fine."
"Oh my God, are you serious? The boy has a cute face but my hamster is smarter than him! You can't seriously suggest that Neanderthal gets the leading part. Besides, he's been a mess since that hookup of his overdosed— which, by the way, was Sky's fault too. Jesus Christ, that bitch is ruining our show - remind me to stab her in the eye tomorrow."
"I told you not to talk about her like that," Cody groaned, anger and hurt twisting his heart.
"Still carrying a torch for her, I see," Jess noted, her voice suddenly sharp as a dagger. Her hand that had been caressing his hair went still before she pulled it away. "She treated you like crap, and you still love her?"
Cody didn't reply, there was nothing to say. It was true, after all, and his silence confirmed it. He still loved Sky, loved her like she was the other half of his soul, and he couldn't deny it even if he wanted to. If Jess had hoped something would happen between them now that things were over with Sky—
Well, she had been severely mistaken.
His heart was ripped out of his chest and scorned to ashes. Nothing of it remained. He could never love again.
"You should go," he sighed when he finally found his voice again. "It's better if you just leave."
Jess' posture was stiff on the bed next to him, and when he opened his eyes to look at her, her face was pale, her jaw a sharp, hard line that hid her emotion.
"Fine, but not until you promise you're back in school by Friday. The opening night is next week and we fucking need you. If you let us down, I'll punch you in the face, and that's a promise. So get your shit together, Cody, take a shower, eat something, and show up at Drama Club. Okay?"
"Okay," Cody muttered a response, which was a lie of course, but it was enough for Jess to leave, which was what he had wanted all along - or at least that was what he told himself when he was alone again, and the tears were back with the ragged sobs that broke through his chest so violently he felt like they were shattering his ribs.
The show meant nothing to him now. Happiness and joy were emotions other people had, not him, never again him. Nothing was important anymore, not even the letter that had arrived the day before. Leigh had so excitedly brought it to him and read out loud announcing that he had been pre-accepted into one of the acting schools he had applied to. It wasn't his number one choice, but it was a decent option, and one he could most likely afford if he got a job, but—
But when Leigh had read the letter to him, he had felt nothing but hollow, painful emptiness.
He knew he should have been ecstatic. He should have been jumping up and down with joy, he should have been crying happy tears, for the dream he'd had since he'd been ten years old, was finally one step closer to coming true. But the only person he wanted to call and tell the news, was Sky. And he could never call her again. She wouldn't give a shit if he was accepted or not, she didn't care, she had never loved him, and if he would never be with her again, then what was the point of anything? What was he going to this acting school for, if she wasn't there to support him, to be happy for him? What was the point of doing the stupid school play, if she wouldn't even come to see it?
Nothing. There was no point. So Cody had just tossed that letter aside, onto his desk, where it still lay, unwanted, untouched, unanswered.
It must have been Thursday afternoon when the door of his room opened, and someone walked in without knocking.
With a jolt, Cody dropped out of a restless dream - one where he'd been trying to find Sky in an amusement park. The black dome of the sky was lit up by fireworks, the air was filled with the scent of fried food and cotton candy. He followed a girl with flaming, red hair through the crowd, but never caught up with her. Instead, he ran into Carol and JD, and just as JD picked up the baseball bat, Carol started laughing. Her loud, high-pitched laughter was still echoing in Cody's ears as he woke up with his heart in his throat, cold sweat on his forehead.
"Cody, your friend is here. Are you awake?" Leigh's voice pulled him into the moment and the amusement park, the fireworks, Carol's laughter disappeared. He was in his room, in his bed, his T-shirt glued to his skin with sweat, his hair plastered to his face. He brushed it off and cleared his throat as he sat up.
"Who is it—" the question died on Cody's lips, as he recognized the man that walked into the room in Leigh's tow and a pure, cold panic descended on him, the fear turning his every muscle to stone.
"Heard you were home," Enrique said as he stepped into the room, slow and calm, running a hand through his black, shoulder-length hair. "Thought I'd stop by. You weren't returning my calls."
The corners of Enrique's mouth turned up, revealing a row of white teeth, a glimpse of gold, but the smile didn't touch his eyes. His cold, calculating glance took in everything, even the smallest detail as it swept the room - the uneaten sandwiches on the plates on Cody's nightstand, already growing mold, his greasy hair, his blood-stained T-shirt, the filthy, rumpled sheets. The glint of amusement in Enrique's chocolate-brown eyes was the only evidence of any emotion, as he leaned against the wall and subtly opened his jacket just enough to show the gun he had tucked under the waistband of his jeans.
A cold fear settled into Cody's stomach, taking his breath away. He glanced from Enrique's gun to Leigh who had taken a seat on the bed, and then back to Enrique's widening, predatory grin.
The gun. Oh God, I need my gun—
But it wasn't here, under the pillow. He had put it back into the closet, and there it was now, behind the door Enriques was leaning on, and there was absolutely no way to get it.
"Leigh," Cody said, fighting to keep his voice as normal as possible. "I'm feeling better today. Could you please go and make me a sandwich? And a cup of coffee maybe? Could you do that for me, while I have a word with my friend?"
Leigh's face brightened with a wide smile. "Sure! Yay, I'm glad you're feeling better. I'll be right back—!"
She ran out of the room, her blond hair flying in the air after her, and as soon as her light footsteps disappeared around the corner, Cody was out of bed. He stumbled and almost fell on his weak, strengthless legs, but managed to get to the door somehow and lock it.
"What the fuck do you want?" he seethed, turning to face Enrique. "I told you I never wanted to see you again."
"Is that the way to greet a friend? After all this time?"
"We're not friends. Why are you here?."
Enrique chuckled, his glance sweeping Cody from head to toe, as he slowly shook his head. "Brother, you look bad. All this for some chick? I hope it was worth it."
Cody let his hand fall from the door handle. There was a shiver in his spine, uneasiness, and fear, but he tilted up his chin and met Enrique's eyes to hide it.
"Just say what you came to say and get the fuck out of here. I told you, I'm done. I want nothing to do with you anymore."
"Oh Cody, Cody, Cody—" Enrique sighed, the annoying smile still playing on his lips. "You never told me you had a sister. How old is she?"
"None of your fucking business."
"Ten? Eleven?" Enrique arched a brow, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Such a beautiful girl, and of perfect age. You made me lose a lot of money, Cody, leaving like that. She could make it all back, in less than a week. People pay big bucks for someone that young—"
An ice-cold rage exploded in Cody's chest, and before he knew it, his fists clenched, a roar escaped his lips—
But Enrique had already pulled his gun, and pointed it straight at Cody's face, freezing him mid-motion.
"Don't be an idiot," Enrique sighed, looking almost bored. "I really don't want to shoot you. It would be such a waste."
"You touch my sister, I'll rip you apart," Cody breathed, cold rage making his voice crack. "I'll fucking kill you—."
"So sensitive about it? And she's not even your blood." Enrique chuckled, but he kept the gun steady and pointed at Cody's face. "But fine, let's make a deal then. You say yes to me, and I'll leave your sister - and your adorable little brother - alone."
Time slowed down, the walls were collapsing on Cody. Suddenly there was not enough air in the room, he could barely breathe. He knew, of course, what this deal would be. It would be just like before - Enrique his boss, and he the guy who did all the despicable things Enrique told him to do. The black gym bag full of drugs, the late-night meetings, the lies to his friends, to his family—
In a heartbeat those memories flashed through his mind, clenching a tight iron band around his lungs. The look on Sky's face when he told her to kneel if she wanted him to sell to her. Her desperate tears when she'd been crying her eyes out in the rehab. And then— Luke, dead in the large, leather chair, the belt pulled tight around his arm, his pale face, his blue lips, the stillness of death that had already settled on him.
No.
He couldn't do it. He wanted no part in that world again. Sky had helped him to see what it really was, she had pulled him out of that evil, disgusting cycle, but now—
Sky wasn't here anymore. The only one who was here was Enrique, and if Cody didn't do what he was told, then Leigh—
He swallowed hard to keep the bile down. He couldn't even finish that thought. Sweet, innocent Leigh, the only good thing in Cody's world— the one thing he still had to lose. And he had brought the danger to her, he had brought this monster into their home, and if there was only one way to make him go, Cody would take that way. He would do whatever the fuck it took, to keep Enrique as far as Leigh and David as possible.
"Okay," he rasped. "I'm in. Put the gun away and let's talk."