Chapter 29: 25 | Confessions

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Confessions

Jalen's grip tightens on my hand with every step we take closer to the school.

"You're gonna break my fingers," I say playfully, though part of me worries his tight grip will. "Just say you don't want to end our time together now."

Jalen chuckles, releasing my hand and wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. His warmth instantly hits me, making me forget how cold it is outside. This December weather has nothing on us.

"I wish I could," he responds, "but I have plans."

"Oh," I comment, raising a brow. "And what do these plans entail?"

He stops walking, flashing me a stupid grin. "My little detective," he murmurs, bringing his free hand up to cup my chin. "Do you ever rest?"

I roll my eyes, trying to fight off a smile. Being referred to as his, even if he's mocking me, sends butterflies through me. Sure, we just made things official, but I'm beginning to think I'll never get used to it. I'll never get used to being his.

"Do you ever cooperate?" I ask in the same tone. "Will it kill you to just answer a question, properly?"

Jalen makes a pained face. "Yeah," he says with a groan. "I think it'll kill me."

I turn my head, making his hand drop from my chin. "You're so fucking annoying."

"Mhm," he hums in agreement, bringing his other hand to my waist, making me turn his way. "Whatever you say, Lyndon."

He leans down to kiss me, stupid smile still covering his face, and despite my best judegement, I raise my head to meet him halfway. My arms wrap around his neck, and I push my body further into his, practically melting into him, smiling the entire time.

The kiss doesn't last very long because of the fact that neither of us stopped smiling, and honestly, I don't care. I'm too happy right now.

"So," I say lowly, arms still locked around his neck. "These plans...?"

A laugh escapes Jalen. He pecks me on the lips one more time before saying, "I'm meeting with the guys at... um, actually, now. I'm supposed to be meeting with them now."

His blue eyes stay trained to his watch, brows furrowing as he concentrates, as if he's trying to make sure he's seeing the right time. I peek at it too, noticing it's already four in the afternoon.

"What time were you supposed to meet?"

"Four o'clock, at Ben's BBQ," he answers distractedly, now reaching for his phone.

"You're late," I state.

"No shit," he answers dryly. He examines his phone one more time, before rolling his eyes. "I don't even wanna go anymore."

I can't stop my nosey eyes from peeking at his phone, noticing there's a group chat open. The words are big and bold, and I'm sure that's so it's easier for Jalen to read. Ignoring the ache in my heart at that, I focus on the names, and feel stupidly shocked to see Elijah's and Daniel's alongside David's.

I knew they were referred to as The Boys, meaning they were some tight knit group that hung out together, and basically ruled the school. But I'd never really seen them all at once, sitting and talking to one another. It's always been Jalen and David, Malia occasionally joining in, and then Daniel and Elijah on another side.

This just goes to show that appearances mean nothing. Just because I don't see them together, doesn't mean they don't actually hang out.

And just because Daniel and Elijah seem like completely different people than Jalen and David, doesn't mean they don't get along. Or that they really are all that different.

Appearances can be deceiving, that's something I've learned quickly in my seventeen years of life. And it's definitely something I need to keep in mind going forward, especially when it comes to everyone at Arlin Preparatory.

"Then don't go," I suggest, hoping my tone doesn't come off too demanding. I'd love nothing more than for Jalen to cancel, and spend the rest of the day with me.

Sounds clingy as hell, but he's my boyfriend now, for real this time. I think I have the right to want to see him for more than two hours.

Jalen squeezes my hip, giving me another smile, except this time, it's a sad one. "I have to."

"You have to go?"

"I have to," he repeats, tone sounding defeated.

I shrug. "Okay, then I'll just see you tomorrow in class."

"Bright and early. I'll pick you up," he offers.

I nod my head, agreeing, unable to say more. I don't want my disappointment to come across. I don't want to scare him off.

We move closer to my bike, and just as I step out of Jalen's arms, he's reaching out for me again.

"Hey," he says softly. "Text or call me you get home safely, okay?"

"I will," I assure him. "But you do the same. Let me know when you're safe and sound at home."

He nods, leaning down to kiss me.

"Goodbye," I say when we pull apart.

"Don't say goodbye," Jalen says with a shake of his head.

"Then what am I supposed to say? Ciao? Adios amigo?"

"Well, first of all, don't call me amigo," he states. "Second, just say... I'll see you later, or I'll see you soon. I like that better."

I pretend to think for a moment before saying, "Okay, okay. So, no amigo, how about compadre?"

"How about boyfriend, because I am your boyfriend," he answers with an eye roll.

Damn, I love hearing him say that.

"Damn, does this mean I gotta change your name in my phone?" is my actual response.

"If you don't, I'm breaking up with you."

"Oh wow, okay. I see we can't take a joke over here."

"Nah," he answers with a shake of his head, smile returning to his face. "Not when it comes to this."

I smile back, letting him pull me into his arms once more, sharing another kiss.

"Fair enough," I finally say. "Definitely should not joke around when it comes to this."

Jalen's phone buzzes, and we both glance at it, seeing it's David calling.

Jalen hesitates, before dropping his arm from me and sighing. "I gotta go, Lyndon. But please let me know when you get home."

"I will, I promise," I answer, letting out a laugh at his persistence. "Now go, before your boyfriend gets mad at you."

Jalen throws his head back and cackles at my comment, before regaining his composure and grabbing my hand. "I only care about my girlfriend being mad at me, right now."

"She's fine," I tell him. "She kind of just wants to go take a nap, anyway."

And with that, and a couple more kisses, we part ways, each hopping on our versions of bikes and driving off.

I reach home quickly, not feeling nearly as tired as I was when I first made it to Arlin Preparatory. My adrenaline is on full gear, the shock of everything that's just happened coming back to me.

Who knew today would start and end this way? I certainly didn't. But I'm so glad it did.

After putting my bike back in the garage, I grab my phone, drafting an i'm home! text to Jalen, before deciding it's better to call.

I receive no answer, choosing to hang up once the voicemail option begins. I figured he'd reach the guys faster than I'd get home, considering our different forms of transportation. But maybe he's still driving, or maybe he did get there and isn't watching his phone.

Either way, I decide to not worry, or to call again. I still don't want to come off too strong.

Instead, I hit send on my text, and put my phone to charge.

Jalen's my boyfriend now, for real. There's no need to stress.

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Jalen never answered my texts, or informed me when he made it home. For a second, I panicked, thinking the absolute worst happened, that something bad had happened to him.

Then, morning came and I received a text from him.

It wasn't the text I wanted though.

Jalen: Cant pick u up . U ok with other ride ?

My eyes rolled the second I read it, both annoyed at his radio silence from last night and at the fact that I'd bothered to change his name like he wanted.

I should've left his ass as Dude.

I replied that I'd be fine, even though Noah already fucking left. Curse Jalen and his late texts.

Once again, my trusty and rusty bike saved the day, and got me to school fifteen minutes after first period started.

I'd like to blame Jalen's late text and my bike as for why I was late, but the truth is, I tried about ten different hairstyles before deciding which one looked best.

And after realizing my dead and flat hair looked bad either way, I left, arrived late, couldn't find a spot to chain my bike, and got reprimanded by my teacher in front of the whole class.

Through all the chaos that went on over the weekend and this morning, I realized I never did the homework for my AP Calc class.

As if the day couldn't get any worse, I didn't realize this until I was sitting in fucking class.

"Alright everybody, notebooks and all other things on your desk away," the teacher announces. "We're having a quiz."

Oh come on!

"A pop quiz? Really?" I mumble to myself.

"She told us last week we were having one," a voice answers me.

I refrain from banging my head against the desk, both at the fact that I'd forgotten about the quiz and at Rachel's voice.

"You can copy me if you want?" she offers with too bright of a smile.

Though she's irritating the shit out of me right now by simply existing, I nod my head, knowing she's the smartest person in this class.

Well, other than Elijah, whose IQ is out of this fucking world. But he sits too far for me to cheat off of, and I really doubt he'd let me anyway.

The next ten minutes of my life drag on as I copy Rachel as discreetly as I can. When our papers are collected and we're dismissed, I throw my bag over my shoulder and pray I make it out of here before Rachel tries talking to me.

Just as she reaches me, placing her hand on my shoulder, I'm saved by the voice of Dedra.

"Hey, Lyndon. Are you sitting with us today?"

"Yes, I am," I proudly answer, shooting an apologetic look to Rachel before racing out the door.

Dedra sends me a smile when I get closer, and then her eyes are directed over my shoulder, making my heart race thinking it's Jalen.

"You heading to the cafeteria, too?" she asks someone behind me.

"Yeah," they answer, and the voice makes my stomach drop.

I turn to face Elijah, who's smiling back at Dedra before bringing his gaze to me. I can't help but acknowledge that we haven't hung out since that day at the coffee shop, where he found out I was dating Jalen. Since then, things have been odd—if that's even the right word to describe it. We still talk in art class, because we sit next to each other, but other than that, not much is said between us. Not in any other class we share, and certainly not outside of class.

"Hey," I say, as if that'll break the awkward barrier.

"Hey," he says, another smile coming to his face as he does so.

"Okay," Dedra announces in a dragged out voice. "So, to the cafeteria we go?"

"Yes," we both say at the same time, looking at one another then glancing away after.

Wow, this is so awkward.

The walk feels like forever, and by the time we get there and see three other people already seated, I can't find it in myself to be annoyed at Jalen for not meeting me in the halls first. Instead, I practically fling myself into the spot next to him.

Any worries of being too clingy take a backseat in my mind, and they completely disappear as Jalen gathers me in his arms, planting a kiss on my forehead and then on my lips.

The table goes quiet. I take this time to properly settle into my seat, and the arm Jalen had wrapped around me moves to the back of my chair.

"So happy to see me, huh?" he asks with a cocky look on his face, smirking.

I furrow my brows at his tone, but don't focus on it too much, instead watching as Elijah sits at the table. Daniel and Noah walk in seconds later, sitting in front of him.

Um, what? Since when?

Malia then waltz in, and of course every student watches. Everyone but Dedra, who turns to face David, roping him into a conversation about the class we just had, though it doesn't seem like he's paying attention.

"How'd you get to school?" Jalen asks, voice barely above a whisper.

"With my bike that you love so much," I answer.

"I thought you'd just go with your brother," he says. "Then I could've taken you home."

I shrug my shoulders. "You could've taken me here, but you didn't. What happened? You got too drunk?"

My tone comes out jokingly, though I'm honestly curious to know why he changed his mind, and why he never answered me last night.

Jalen smiles, and the sight is refreshing to see after that smirk I hate so much was just there. "I didn't drink. Just didn't feel like getting up early. I figured you wouldn't wanna be late, too."

I nod along, finding the answer reasonable. Though it still doesn't solve the mystery of him never answering my text, but I choose to let it go, seeing as he gave me an actual answer to the question I asked.

Baby steps. We're getting there.

"I was a little late for first period, but at least I made it," I answer, laughing a little to show him it's okay.

Jalen smiles at me one more time before facing forward, which makes me do the same, and of course it just has to be David sitting in front of us. At least I have Dedra to the side of him.

"The food's a little late today," David states.

I glance toward the back of the cafeteria, where students are lined up by the rows of food. Then I see Dedra rolling her eyes, annoyed, and Jalen covering his laugh with a cough.

Once he gathers himself, he says, "Looks like you fucked up, bro."

"Somebody fucked up, but it wasn't me," David answers, staring right at Jalen.

Jalen's eyes narrow as he leans forward, placing an arm on the table. "Then where's the food?"

I have no idea what's going on, but shit is getting tense over here. It's obvious that Jalen's getting agitated, but David looks unbothered by it. In fact, he looks vaguely amused.

"Ah," David announces loudly with enthusiasm, garnering the attention of the rest of the people at the table. "Our waiter has arrived."

A kid I've seen before in our health class comes closer. Rather than trying to get a closer look and remember his name, I turn toward the table, watching as Dedra looks away, Malia's attention stays on her phone, and Daniel and Elijah look on with unimpressed looks. Noah's the only other confused person. And Jalen doesn't even bother turning around.

His eyes stay on David, who looks back toward him with a smile.

"I know how to handle my shit," David says, eyes briefly glancing at me before he adds, "How about you?"

Jalen's jaw clenches, but before he can either respond or not, the kid reaches the table.

"What would you like?" he asks in a monotone voice.

As David takes everyone's orders and recites them to the kid, I watch Jalen. His body is tensed up, I can feel it due to how close we're sitting. But as David finishes ordering food as if we're at a fucking restaurant, the tension leaves his body, and he's instead laughing at a stupid joke David makes about the kid once he's gone.

"What's with that face, Boulevard? You don't like spaghetti? I figured Italian food was what you'd want."

Laughs go around the table, too mixed together for me to tell who they belong too. All I know is Jalen doesn't laugh. But he stays quiet, and that pisses me off.

"Spaghetti's fine," I answer in a clipped tone.

"Then what's the problem?" David asks, leaning forward.

I tilt my head to the side, keeping eye contact as I simply state, "You."

David leans back, raising a brow and bringing a hand to his chest, faking offense. "What? Boulevard, come on. I thought we moved past that. We gotta get along if you're gonna be dating my boy," he says with a wink, motioning toward Jalen, who remains quiet and still.

The wink David gave throws me off, making me wonder if he knows Jalen and I have made our relationship official. Then, I begin wondering exactly how much he does know. What Jalen's told him about us—about what we've said to each other and what we've done.

Thinking about it makes me sick, and I'm saved from responding by the kid returning with our plates of food. The smell of the sauce doesn't help the nauseous feeling, and watching this poor boy carrying all our plates as if it's his job makes it worse.

"Here, let me—" I begin offering when he reaches me, figuring distracting myself by passing the rest of them their plates will help me feel better.

It'd certainly make me a better person than the rest of these assholes who are just sitting here.

"No, don't," Jalen interrupts lowly, stopping my movements with his arm.

I try getting up again, but Jalen flashes me a hard look. It's not the mean glares I've seen him give people, and it's not nearly as harsh as the look he gave David earlier during their conversation, but it's still not nice, or friendly, or something you should direct at your girlfriend.

"Lyndon," he reprimands, raising a hand between us, clearly struggling to keep his voice low. "Just... sit and eat, okay?"

What kind of shit is this?

I listen, though, not wanting to cause a scene. I can feel David and Dedra watching, and even Malia who's sitting next to me has bought her attention from her phone to us.

I can't find it in myself to look further down, to where Daniel, Noah, and Elijah are sitting. They definitely can't hear a word we're saying, but I somehow just know that Elijah's watching anyway. It's like I can feel it.

Silence overcomes the table again as we all eat. The next time it's broken is by Dedra's voice, soft and low, directed at only David, Jalen, and I.

"When are we gonna double date?" she asks excitedly.

I stare blankly at her. Is she really that naive to have not picked up on the tension between us three? What in the world could make this girl think we would survive a date together?

"Aw, did you hear that, Jalen?" David coos. "A double date with our girlfriends."

Jalen's arm slides off my chair. The move is subtle, as he readjusts his position in his seat while doing so, but the intention is made clear. He's pulling away from me.

"Yeah," he says in a sarcastic voice, adding on with finality in his voice, "That's not happening."

Dedra pouts. "You guys are the worst. I guess me and Lyndon will have to go on our own date."

She directs her attention to me, but before I can respond, another student approaches our table. I recognize him as Wyatt from my art class. He's a sophomore, and really nice. What would he be doing here?

"Uh, hi, David," he says shyly once he reaches David's chair. "I have a meeting with one of my teachers, but before I go, did any of you need anything from your lockers?"

David ponders for a moment, before saying, "Nah, you're good to go."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Run along, Wyatt," he answers, motioning with a hand toward the door.

As the kid does just that, I sit in shock. I knew Jalen was seen as the king of the school, but apparently, David's just as much of royalty. If not, more.

"Ah, shit," David curses. "I needed our homework from Tristan. Fuck."

"Go get that shit," Jalen tells him.

"Can you? My leg still hurts from Saturday. That's the last time I agree to help Danny with practice." David moves his chair back and lifts his leg, showing that he has a brace on. He then glances around the cafeteria, until his eyes spot something at the opposite end. "He's sitting too damn far."

Jalen watches him with a blank face. "You know if I go there he won't give it to me."

"You mean he'd be too scared shitless to do anything if you walked up to him," David says with a chuckle.

"Exactly," Jalen agrees. "So go get that shit before the bell rings."

David groans, before rising from his seat slowly, wincing as he puts pressure on his bad leg, though it all seems a bit exaggerated. "I guess I'll just limp my ass over there. Malia, wanna join? I'm sure Tristan will make sure all the answers are correct if you come along, maybe flash him."

Malia raises a brow, crossing her arms. "Do you want your other leg in a brace, too?"

David laughs loudly. "I meant flash him a smile. Damn it, Malia. Get your head out of the fucking gutter."

"Hop along," she replies, shooing him away with her hand. "You've only got a few minutes till lunch ends."

"I'll go with you," Dedra offers, standing by his side and grabbing his arm.

The two walk off, arms linked as they slowly make their way to the furthest table in the room. And as I watch them do so, all I can think about is how unfair it is that they can do things like that. Dedra herself has said they're not even officially together, and David's the biggest asshole in the world, yet they're acting more like a real couple than Jalen and I.

Why is it okay for them to do that?

My eyes go to Jalen, who's own eyes are intently watching his untouched plate of food. He doesn't look toward me, and he almost looks relieved when the bell rings.

He rises from his seat, turning away, before glancing down toward me. "I, uh, gotta go get my homework from David."

"Oh, okay," I say in a low voice.

Jalen watches me for several more seconds, but says nothing.

"We'll see each other at dismissal?" I ask.

"Mhm," he hums in agreement, taking off after.

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As soon as art ends, I'm out the door. I send Elijah a smile and tell him goodbye, before booking it to my locker, then from my locker to the parking lot.

I spot my bike, but no Jalen in sight. I decide to give him a couple more minutes before flipping out.

"Lynnie, what the fuck is that?" Noah asks, walking closer, cackling loudly while pointing at my bike.

"Fuck off," I respond.

His laughter keeps going, annoying me more. "Your boyfriend didn't pick you up?"

"Noah, I mean it. Fuck off," I practically growl at him, feeling my patience wear out.

I really don't want to take my anger out on him, but if Jalen doesn't show up, and if this motherfucker keeps pushing, then that's his fault.

"Oh no," he says dramatically. "Are you guys fighting?"

"If you don't shut the fuck up in five fucking seconds—"

My threat ends when Jalen appears, cigarette in hand with David and Daniel behind him.

"Hey," Daniel waves, causing me to smile, and Noah to walk over to him.

"Hey, I can't go to the diner tonight," Noah tells him. "I gotta meet with the guys."

Daniel looks disappointed, but covers it with a small smile. "No problem. Another time."

Noah agrees, before turning back to me. "You gonna throw that shit in the trunk, or your boyfriend's taking you home?"

Jalen lights his cigarette, remaining quiet. But those blue eyes, that are filled with dislike and annoyance, stay trained on Noah.

"I can just ride my bike, it's fine," I tell him, wishing he and the twins would just leave so I could be alone with Jalen.

"I'm not letting you ride that thing," my annoying brother says.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, it's a good bike! It's fine!"

I know I sound hysterical, but I just want to talk to Jalen, and I can't do that with Noah here, or with David's annoying self.

"We gotta go," I hear David say to Jalen.

Jalen nods, pulling the cigarette from his lips as he looks at me. He takes a step closer, saying lowly, "I'll call you later, Lyndon."

"Will you?" I can't stop myself from asking.

Jalen blinks, going still for several seconds. "Yes," he states firmly. "I will."

"Okay," I answer.

"I'll see you," he says, stepping close enough to plant a soft kiss on my cheek.

Despite the gentleness in the gesture, it feels like a slap across the face.

Cheek kisses were used when we weren't dating. We're in a real relationship now... why aren't we acting like it?

Or am I just reading too much into it?

I don't want to go back to overthinking, because that got me nowhere yesterday. Jalen asked me to be his girlfriend, and I agreed, and it's supposed to be real.

So why do I still feel left out? Why does it still feel like it's a charade? Why does David still get to make me feel like the odd one out?

Why does it feel like this real relationship isn't so real anymore?

"See you," I respond lowly.

And then he's off, David following behind him. Daniel calls out, "Can you drop me home?"

Jalen nods, motioning for him to follow.

Once they're gone, Noah steps closer to me.

"Really not in the mood for your shit," I tell him.

"Just grab your stupid ass bike and shut the fuck up," he says, walking off after.

I roll my eyes, but do what he says, following him with my bike. Once he reaches the car, he pops the trunk and puts my bike in there.

The ride to our house is silent. Noah parks in front, and when I don't make any move to get out, he says, "I'm leaving. You and your bike can either get the fuck out, or come with."

I choose option A, and spend the next minute watching Noah take my bike out and bring it to the garage.

As I enter the house and realize I'm home alone, I decide now is the time to cry my fucking eyes out.

But I don't want to be alone. I'd feel much better if I could just talk this out with someone. Jalen would be the obvious choice, but I feel stupid confessing all my worries to him, especially if I'm harping on nonexistent problems.

My mom isn't an option, besides the fact that she's not even here—which is weird all on it's own, because she has no job or friends in this state—she was never someone I could go too with things like this.

Noah and Knox were never the consoling type either. Knox practically has no feelings at all, and Noah is just an asshole. He'll laugh at my tears and then ask if I want to go eat.

I need someone clear-minded, someone mature and calm and kind. Someone who can look at this situation with no bias. Someone I can trust, who'll be honest. A person that I feel won't just tell me what I want to hear, but will actually look out for me and my feelings.

Bea used to be that person for me, but she's not anymore. For obvious reasons.

My mind wanders to Elijah. He seems so calm and level-headed, and is my first thought when thinking of someone I can trust from here.

But, for some reason, I feel weird thinking of calling him to talk about... Jalen. Maybe that's because we've never been close like that, where we talk about super personal stuff like our feelings. We don't even hang out like actual friends do.

All I know is, whatever the reason is, Elijah isn't the person I should call to confide my worries about Jalen with.

Daniel's plans with Noah were cancelled, though, and he asked Jalen for a ride home. My house is a lot further from school than his is.

Pushing all doubts aside, desperate to be heard, I dial his number. Three rings go by before his soft voice answers with, "Hey, Lyndon. Is everything okay?"

My bottom lip quivers just as that, knowing he was the perfect person to call, despite his closeness with Jalen and his obvious preference of Noah over me.

"Can you come over, please?"

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"Wow. I did not know all that was going on all this time."

I nod, having believed Daniel was completely oblivious to the whole charade we were putting on.

"But, you're officially dating now?"

I shrug. "I guess we are. He made it seem like we are."

"Lyndon, it's barely been a day. What exactly were you expecting to happen?"

"I don't know! He hasn't really done anything, and maybe that's the problem? Ugh." I pause to let out a groan of annoyance. "The whole vibe he's been giving off since yesterday when we parted ways has been so fucking shady and weird. I can't describe it."

Daniel stays silent, choosing to pop a chip into his mouth from our third jumbo sized bag of the day.

"Maybe I'm crazy. Am I just being crazy? Thinking all he wanted was sex? Is it just a coincidence that he's acting this way after we did it?"

"I mean, he asked you to be his girlfriend after, right? He didn't have to do that. He could've just... you know, ignored you," he says with a wince.

"I suppose that's true," I say with a nod. "He could've just humped and dumped me. No official relationship needed."

Daniel's eyes squint at the term I use, but he doesn't comment on it, instead reaching across my bedroom floor for more snacks. "Maybe Jalen was just in a bad mood today, and it had nothing to do with you."

I throw my head onto my bed that's behind me, staring up at the ceiling as I continue working out my thoughts.

"I really hope that's all it is. I don't think I could handle being played again," I say lowly, closing my eyes at the reminders of how much Liam hurt me. When I open them, I face Daniel, whose pity-filled eyes are watching me. Instantly, I regret telling him what had happened in my last relationship as well, but I push that aside, knowing I needed to talk to someone about it. "If all he wanted was sex and to use me as a beard for his parents, I'll go crazy."

"A beard?" Daniel questions, most likely trying to drive the conversation away from my past relationship.

"Yeah, like a cover-up. I think the term comes from when a gay person tries hiding their sexuality by pretending to be straight and having a fake partner of the opposite sex," I explain. "But in this case, Jalen's using me to pretend he's with someone else so they don't make him marry Cortney. So annoying. I know I agreed to that, but if that's all it really is, then say it! Leave it as that! Don't ask me to be your girlfriend and still treat me like your beard!"

My eyes go back to Daniel, expecting him to look just as startled by my outburst as I am. I didn't expect my voice to get that loud, or feel upset once the words were out.

But instead, Daniel is staring at the ground, quiet and seemingly lost in his own world. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he didn't even listen to a word I said just now. That doesn't seem like something Daniel would do, though.

Then again, it's becoming clearer with every day spent at Arlin Preparatory that not everyone is what they seem.

"Daniel?"

He looks up, humming in acknowledgement.

"Are you good?" I ask once his eyes finally stay on mine.

"Yeah," he breathes out with a chuckle. "I'm good."

"Good," I say with my own laugh. "Last thing we need is both of us going crazy."

"You're not crazy, Lyndon," he says soothingly.

"Jalen makes me feel like I am. He makes me question everything, way more than I already do. It's crazy," I confess.

"I get that," he says lowly.

When his eyes find me, I get the feeling that he really does get it, and that makes me raise a questioning eyebrow.

It goes silent again, Daniel seeming to get lost in his own world again. Rather than succumbing to my own thoughts and worries, I focus on him and his.

And just like a slideshow, everything Daniel's said and did around me flashes in front of my eyes.

Suddenly, the pieces are coming together, completing one big puzzle as he finally looks at me again, sending me a small, shy smile.

"You get it?" I question, keeping my voice low and hopefully inviting, wanting to hear him say it without having to ask.

"Mhm," he hums. "I do."

My brow raises again, silently urging him to elaborate. After taking in a large breath of air, he does.

"Jalen is... something else," he begins, voice barely above a whisper. "We met in third grade. He was just a little, lost kid who was sad about being left back. He was David's best friend, and in turn, got stuck talking to me, too."

He throws a handful of popcorn into his mouth, leaving me time to fully confirm that it is Jalen and David that are best friends, while Daniel really is just the add on, the tag along.

"If I had any doubts before that, let's just say they all went away when Jalen and I talked alone on the playground," he continues with a low chuckle. "That was how I knew."

I place my hand over his that's resting on the floor between us. His eyes glance down, before coming back to my own, and he's sending me a real smile this time, more comfortable just from the simple touch.

I've always found it fascinating how just one touch or even a few words of encouragement from the right person can give someone the courage or desire to go on.

"I always knew I was different, always felt different, especially when compared to David," he confesses. "But I didn't have the right word or definite feeling until I met Jalen. After that, I knew I was gay. There was no way I wasn't."

He lets out an uncomfortable giggle, clearly trying to bring some humor to clear the tension from revealing something so private and personal.

Trying to help, I say, "Wow, I never thought Jalen would be your type when I asked all those months ago."

A genuine laugh comes from him after, and I join in, the sound bouncing off of the walls of my stupid bedroom that I'm hating less and less now that he's here.

"Why do you keep it hidden? Why don't you tell people?" I ask several minutes later when our laughs die down.

I cringe when the words are said, not wanting to sound insensitive, and feeling that way once Daniel visibly cringes at my questions.

"That could never happen," he quickly says. "And you have to promise you will never tell anyone, Lyndon. I mean it."

"I would never," I say softly, feeling bad at the panic in his eyes. "I promise."

He eyes my pinky warily, obviously thinking this is far too important for a pinky promise. He links his with mine anyway, adding, "The quarterback can't be gay."

"That's bullshit and you know it," I argue. "Times have changed. People at Arlin Preparatory seem like they won't even care."

"It's not their opinions that matter to me. It's the fact that they spread everything they hear, and I can't have certain people finding out. This has to stay between us," he says desperately.

"Am I the only one who knows?"

"Other than David and Jalen, yes."

"How'd they find out?" I ask, surprised.

"How could they not?" he asks with a roll of his eyes. "I barely came to terms with it myself before they both sat me down and said they knew."

"Wait, what?"

"They kind of knew, well, actually, they said it out loud before I ever could," he says, laughs bubbling out of him as if remembering a memory. "Nothing gets past Jalen, and he tells David everything, and David isn't the type to hide things. So, it was inevitable that Jalen would realize it and David would convince him they needed to confront me."

"So, what? They forced you to confess?" I ask, already seeing the worst in them.

"No, no, nothing like that," he quickly defends. "They were calm and open about it, going on and on about how I need to live in my truth. I agreed, and said it out loud for the first time that I'm gay, but it ended there. They agreed to keep it quiet until I felt comfortable, and I really hope you will, too."

"I will! I promised I wouldn't tell a soul already," I say, feeling myself get defensive. "Do you not trust me?"

"I know you, Lyndon," he answers with a soft smile. "You think I should live openly, but I'm telling you I can't. Not right now."

"I just want you to be happy," I counter. "If only having Jalen, David, and I know is what makes you happy, then fine by me. I won't meddle."

He nods along. "Actually, I think Rachel knows, too."

"How would she know?" I ask, reeling my head back.

"She was always obsessing over Jalen with me during recess," he reveals with a laugh. "But don't worry, I grew out of it. I'm not too sure if she ever did, though."

He lets out another laugh at that, and I join in once more, having already felt like Rachel is a little too into the gossip surrounding Jalen and The Boys.

"Well, I'm glad you feel like you can trust me. Because you can, one hundred percent, Daniel," I say, reaching my arms out toward him.

He scoops me into his arms, half of my body in his lap, as he says, "I know I can, Lyn."

"Oh come on, too soon, Danny!" I shout into his shoulder.

"Well, well, well," a new voice says. "What is this?"

I roll my eyes, pulling myself out of Daniel's lap and facing my annoying brother.

"Hey, Noah," Daniel says with a wave.

Noah acknowledges him with one of those bro nods and a smile, before turning to me with narrowed eyes.

"You really are planning on making your way through the whole group, huh?"

My initial reaction is to smack him for what he's implied, and once I do so, I smile at the pained sound he makes, then say, "I'm gonna make some mac and cheese. Who wants?"

Daniel jumps up from the floor at the offer and places a comforting hand on Noah's shoulder to soothe his pain, before walking around him to follow me into the kitchen.

"I want some, too, fuckheads," Noah shouts from my room before his footsteps come closer.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

My phone rings nine minutes after ten o'clock at night. I glare at the screen, knowing it's technically not late, but it's still a school night.

But I'm definitely not about to ignore a call from Jalen.

"What's up?" I greet.

"Uh, not much," he answers in confusion. "How about you, Lyndon?"

I refrain from feeling bad that he had to say my name because he needs the confirmation that he dialed the right number. "Not much, either."

"Lyndon, you're acting weird."

"Oh? Really? I'm acting weird? Sorry, Jalen."

He sighs. "Are you really about to make me do this?"

"Um, do what?" I question.

"Come over," is his answer.

"And what does that mean?" I ask while jumping up from my bed. "Like, actually come to my house? Right now?"

"Yup," he says, but his voice sounds further away.

"Are you on crack?" is my immediate response. "Why would you come to my house at this time?"

"Well, you're obviously mad about something," he says in an agitated tone. "And since you have that nasty habit of wanting me to figure it out and fix it instead of just telling me what's wrong, I need to come over."

I let out a bark of laughter. "Wow. That's amazing. I'm the one with nasty habits?"

"Okay, that right there, just proves my point," he says, and I can practically hear the smirk on his face. "Stop with the cryptic shit."

"Stop being an asshole."

"I haven't even done anything!"

"Mhm, you're right," I agree. "You've done nothing wrong, Jalen. Go home."

I hear him release a groan, before demanding lowly, "Come outside."

"Who are you, my parole officer? I'm not going anywhere," I respond.

"Lyndon, I have no boundaries," he warns. "I have absolutely no problem knocking on your goddamn door and talking to your parents."

"Are you threatening me? Because I feel threatened," I say, eyes widening, unsure how serious he's being.

"If that gets you outside, then sure. Consider yourself threatened."

I hear a door slammed shut on his side of the line. "You're fucking crazy."

"Come outside," he demands again, voice deep and low.

"You're literally insane," I mutter into the phone, but the truth in that statement doesn't stop me from listening, putting slides on my feet and grabbing a coat.

I'm convinced he really will start slamming on the front door if I don't come out.

"Walk around the side of the house and meet me in the backyard," I tell him, as I quickly scan the kitchen and living room for any of the jackasses apart of my family.

He murmurs something I can't understand before the call is ended, and I ignore his rudeness as I spot someone on the couch. Creeping closer, I see it's my mother, sound asleep, with her cellphone, an empty wine glass, and a half finished bottle on the small table in front of her.

I spot a blanket draped over the back of the couch, and momentarily think I should toss it over her, but would she have done that for me? Would she wake me, ask what's caused me to try drinking my problems away so much that I can't make it to my bed?

No, she wouldn't. She probably wouldn't have even noticed me on the couch.

So, I walk away, as I assume she would, and exit through the backdoor, eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as I search for Jalen.

He's standing on the opposite end, by the pile of wood Noah and I smoked on months ago. That moment feels so far away, and I can't help acknowledging that I haven't even been out here since then.

"I figured you'd wanna go as far from the house as possible," Jalen says lowly as I walk closer.

"Really? You seemed eager to waltz right on in two seconds ago," I comment, crossing my arms over my chest, stopping a few inches away.

"I needed to make sure you'd talk to me," he replies, taking a step closer.

He's close enough to reach out and touch... or smack—either option is good with me.

"So talk," I say with a shrug.

Jalen reaches his hand up, lightly cupping my cheek. "I feel like you're mad at me."

I take a step back, away from his touch, and I don't miss the way his eyes flash with hurt. It's gone quickly, making me think I imagined it, especially since no trace of it is left on his face.

Instead, his face hardens. With a clenched jaw and a clipped tone, he asks, "Can I not touch my girlfriend?"

"I don't know, Jalen. Am I your girlfriend?"

I feel stupid as I say the words, but I can't pretend I don't have doubts. What good will that do me?

"What the fuck does that mean?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.

Before I can answer, taking a second to conjure up a reply since I don't have any concrete reason to feel this way, he's talking again.

"Did I not ask you to be my girlfriend yesterday, Lyndon? It's barely been twenty-four fucking hours, so there's no way you could've forgotten that quickly."

I flinch at the hardness in his tone and the new volume his voice has taken. If my mom wasn't wine drunk right now, she'd wake up and hear his loud ass.

"Lower your voice," I say harshly. "We're not at a fucking carnival."

Jalen squints his eyes, thrown off by my response. "What an odd place to pick..."

"Shh," I shush him, needing silence to think of something clever to reply with.

He listens, taking a step back and running a hand through his soft, jet black hair.

"I don't even know what I did, Lyndon," he comments, sounding tired.

"It's just the way you've been acting, Jalen. All throughout lunch you were being weird, and even at dismissal it just... you... it felt like we were still fake dating. Like nothing has changed."

Jalen stares blankly at me. I feel my cheeks reddening at the tension, feeling stupider by the second for confessing how I felt.

Some things really are better to keep to yourself, huh?

"I'm confused," he finally replies. "How am I supposed to act?"

"Forget it," I say dismissively. Maybe I did exaggerate, read too much into things. "Just forget it."

"No," he urges, reaching for my hand. "It clearly made you mad, so I want to know what I was doing wrong. As far as I saw, we were sitting at lunch together like normal."

"Lunch today was not normal, at least not for me," I say. "It felt weird, and I never felt more out of place than I did today sitting there with you. I shouldn't be feeling that way."

Jalen blinks. "Okay, and how do I fix that...?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "I don't know. How about stop making me feel that way?"

He still stares at me with the same stupid look on his face. Rather than reaching out to strangle him for not getting it, or smacking myself for not explaining it right, I take in a deep breath.

"For example, when someone, such as Dedra, suggests a double date, don't right away shut it down all disgusted because David referred to me as your girlfriend," I tell him. "That doesn't make me feel good. It makes me feel unwanted, left out, by you."

Jalen stares at me for a few seconds after I stop talking, seemingly thinking through what I said. He finally responds with, "So you're mad that I didn't want to go? You hate David."

I raise my hands in the air, unbelieving that this is his response to everything I just said.

"Well, yeah, but that's not the point!" I say, voice sadly growing louder. "You made me feel like you didn't like what he said, or that she considered us enough of a couple that she wanted to double date. Get it?"

His eyebrows narrow, head reeling back. "I guess."

I clench my fists. "You guess? That means you don't get it, Jalen."

"We can go if you want. It'll turn out bad, though," he offers.

"Oh my god! I don't want to go, Jalen!"

"So you just wanted me to want to go?"

I let out a loud groan, pacing back and forth for several seconds before deciding I have gained enough patience to continue this conversation.

"I want you to stop acting weird around your friends!" I finally shout at him.

Jalen's back to staring at me blankly, and just as his mouth opens, no doubt ready to say something else dumb, I cut him off, finally figuring out what my issue is and needing to express it.

"I feel like you're still faking in front of them for some reason, and I can't figure out why. It was their idea to have you fake date someone, and now that we're technically really together, why does it feel like they don't know that? Why does it feel you don't want them too?"

Jalen's jaw clenches one more time as he swallows hard. Then, he's taking another step closer. "Technically?" he questions.

I sigh, hating how he's harping on the way I said the word and used air quotes as I did.

"You know what I mean," I say while waving dismissively.

"No, I don't. Why'd you say it like that? Are we not technically together, Lyndon?"

"We are," I answer, though the tone of my voice makes it seem like we really aren't. "If you want to be."

"I want to be with you, Lyndon. That's why I asked you to be my girlfriend..." he trails off, frowning.

"Then why are you saying you'll call when you won't, or acting distant at lunch?"

The neediness is apparent in my tone, but I need my answers. I won't be content unless I get them, and this relationship won't last if he can't provide them.

"I was tired, and a little stressed, last night, Lyndon. That's why I missed classes this morning. I'm feeling that way now. Doesn't mean I don't wanna be with you, though."

"Being tired or stressed isn't an excuse to ignore someone, Jalen, especially when you're in a relationship," I counter, already feeling some of my annoyance slipping away due to the look in his eyes.

I can see the bags under his eyes, and the slight slouch to his shoulders. My chest tightens when I wonder why he was stressed.

"Being in a relationship means telling each other things, not avoiding one another when you're stressed," I add, tone much softer.

"I wouldn't know. I've never been in a real relationship before," he whispers.

The names Elena and Chloe ring in my head, immediately wondering if he's lying right now and those are two girls he's dated, or if he's being truthful, and those are two girls he's apparently chased or slept with behind Cortney's back, the girls everyone at Arlin Preparatory says I'll be another one of.

I'm not sure which option worries me more.

Rather than stressing over it anymore, I decide to remember that rumors are just rumors, and that I actually do like Jalen, a lot. Maybe too much.

And he's standing here, saying he wants to be with me, despite the craziness of tonight.

And I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to be with him.

"If we're going to do this, then I need your all," I state, repeating the words he once told me. Granted, he said them when we were faking, but they still stand true now. "It's either all in or all out, Jalen."

He smiles, right dimple poking out, moonlight lighting up his entire face as he reaches for my hand, pressing a light kiss to it.

"I'm all in, baby. I'm sorry that I made you feel otherwise."

Baby?

I'm melting. I'm motherfucking melting.

I can't stop the smile from forming on my face.

"C'mere," he murmurs, tugging lightly on my hand.

I happily oblige his order, letting him pull me flush against him, and then connecting our lips as if nothing was ever wrong.

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A / N:

Hi! Sorry this chapter came later than expected. I had the first half written for weeks, but couldn't finish it until today. I guess the bad part about having these chapters planned from so far ahead is that once I actually start writing them, I struggle to get what I pictured in my head onto paper. Some parts of this chapter could've been better, but I'm happy with most parts and that's good enough for now. And this chapter is a little longer than usual (as if that's even possible, considering how much I can ramble on), so I hope that makes up for the lateness!

I don't want to make any promises, but the next two chapters will most likely be written and posted a lot sooner. I've been waiting for what feels like forever to get to this point of the story. Really excited for them... really, really excited. Quick spoiler: Lyndon's going to another party. Lol, alright. Enough of the extra long note. See you all soon!