Chapter 33: 29 | Why Did We Move?

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Why Did We Move?

Once again, Jalen changes my mind about him and manages to make detention enjoyable.

It's pretty ironic that, the last time we both ended up in detention together, there was a rift between us. It was placed there by my careless mouth, and he was the one who had to forgive me for my mistake.

Is history repeating itself? Is it my turn to be the bigger person?

The situations seem incomparable, because our relationship has advanced so much since then. But aren't some things still the same? Weren't Jalen and I always like this? Things get miscommunicated, and someone has to take charge, push their pride aside, and make amends?

He said he didn't cheat that night. What else can I expect from him?

Answers as to where he was.

But is that pushing? Is it really my business? I've always known Jalen was a private person.

We didn't talk in detention. Well, we talked, it just wasn't about what happened that night, or our relationship.

Jalen had homework, so I decided to revive my reading lessons and help him understand what his assignment was.

Watching him try his hardest to put the sounds of each word together tore at my heartstrings.

How can I continue being mad? He gave me an answer. He said he didn't cheat. I can't expect him to tell me everything...

I keep repeating this to myself every time my doubt creeps back in.

When he reaches for his phone—that he was supposed to hand in, by the way—in between our little lesson. When detention ends and he offers to take me home. When Noah flashes me an are you really gonna leave with him? look, because he saw us in the hallway earlier and knows something was wrong. When Jalen decides to take a detour on our way to my house.

And I repeat it now, as Jalen walks toward the familiar table I'm sitting at, two cups of ice cream in hand.

"M'lady," he says with a bow, extending a cup to me after.

I send him a dry look.

"Am I doing too much?" he asks with a laugh.

"Yes, you are." I take the cup and quickly lick the side where my ice cream is beginning to spill. "Or maybe I'm just not used to you being a gentleman."

I giggle to myself at the comment as I collect napkins to wrap around the cup. It's the beginning of January, and I'm still trying to readjust to New York's cold winters.

When Jalen suggested stopping to get ice cream from his Zio Vittorio's shop, I hesitated—not because I didn't want to be with him, but because it's too fucking cold for ice cream.

In the end, Jalen won—like always.

Speaking of...

I look to him, wondering why he hasn't responded. I get my answer when I catch his stare focused intently on my lips.

"Really? This is what I mean when I say you're not a gentleman."

Jalen chuckles, then speaks in a deeper voice. "Don't pretend a gentleman is what you really want."

I roll my eyes and wave him off, but there's no denying the warmth I feel pooling in my stomach at the dark look in his eyes.

"C'mere," he commands from his side of the table.

I bite my lip, hesitating on whether to listen or not. When his eyes quickly dart down, I have my answer, again.

Seconds later I'm standing by his spot on the bench, ready to take the seat next to him. Clearly, that wasn't what he wanted. Jalen's arm wraps around my waist, easily pulling me into his lap.

Suddenly, I'm not as cold as before.

"Hi," I whisper as I wrap an arm around his neck.

He smiles—a small and, surprisingly, innocent smile. "Hi, baby."

Jalen closes his eyes and leans in, and because I'm, well, me, I quickly dip my finger into my ice cream and then press it to his face.

Beautiful, blue eyes greet me. I expect annoyance at my antics, but instead he leans back and smirks.

"I'm trying to kiss you, Lyndon," he says in a playful voice.

I shrug, trying to fight off a smile. "Maybe I don't want a kiss from you."

Jalen fakes shock. "Oh, yeah? Then what do you want from me?"

"Hm." I bring a finger to my chin and pretend to think. How about the truth? Oh, shit, can't say that. We're in a good mood right now. "How about some of your ice cream?"

"Gelato," he corrects, before winking at me and nodding. "But, okay. Anything for you."

He reaches for his cup, puts some of the ice cream on his spoon, and brings it to my face. Before I can even open my mouth, he shoves the whole thing into my cheek.

"You bitch," I chide playfully. "You're wasting perfectly good gelato."

Jalen pauses, then shakes his head as he smirks once more. "No, I'm not."

He leans forward and licks the ice cream off of my face, pulling back with a shit-eating grin.

In return, I take the little bit of ice cream still left on his face off with my finger, then bring that finger to my mouth and lick it off.

I shoot him a two can play at this game smile.

Rather than retaliating with anymore ice cream, Jalen decides he's had enough and brings his hand to the back of my neck, capturing my lips with his own.

His lips move roughly against mine, his grip on my waist tightening and hold on my neck secure enough to keep my head in place. It's as if he's worried I'll move away.

The rational part of my brain knows I should. Not only because of the doubts still sadly lingering in my mind, but because of where we're at. Sitting on a park bench, making out. I've never been one for public displays of affection.

But, other than a group of girls sitting on the other table, there's barely any people around, seeing as it's fucking freezing out.

And... this is Jalen I'm with. I seem to rarely do anything I usually would when I'm with him.

This must explain why I move closer, straddling him as I wrap both arms around his neck. When I gently rock my hips against his, Jalen decides that's too much.

"Calmati," he murmurs. How am I supposed to calm down when he speaks Italian! He pulls away and flashes me a smirk. "We're in public, baby."

I lightly shove him. "You literally started it."

Jalen chuckles, but the beautiful sound is cut off when his eyes flitter over my shoulder.

"What?" I ask, just as another voice calls out, "Vincenzo!"

I look toward the source. His Zio Vittorio is standing on the other side of the table, looking at Jalen with disappointment clear as day on his face.

I feel Jalen's body tense, grip loosening on my hips as he lightly pushes me off of him. He waits until I land on the bench before standing.

"Something wrong?" he asks in a low voice.

Vittorio stares at him, not saying a word. But the look in his eyes says it all—yes, something is wrong.

The older man flashes me an apologetic smile before motioning with his head for Jalen to follow.

Jalen presses a light kiss to my cheek, then whispers into my ear, "I'll be right back."

They reach a small booth set up near the ice cream stand. I try reading their lips, to understand what's going on, but Vittorio usually only speaks Italian. He's talking way too fast for me to even keep up. This only further proves how serious the conversation is—I doubt Vittorio would speak so quickly to Jalen, knowing it's not easy for him to understand.

I shake my head and avert my eyes. I shouldn't be eavesdropping—or trying too. Jalen would be mad if he knew. One thing that's become increasingly clear is he hates when I pry into his business.

Giggling from another table catches my attention. My eyes find the group of girls I'd seen earlier. Their backs are to me, but two of the girls are seated on the table, and I'm able to recognize the slacks they're wearing. Arlin Preparatory's uniform.

"Are you being serious, Janice?"

"I swear to god, it's true! It's all everyone can talk about!"

I've never liked gossip—even more so after transferring to Arlin Preparatory and becoming the main topic of it all. But that nosey little part in me can't stop myself from listening.

"I refuse to believe he really likes her. This is just another game, trust me."

"Yeah. She's no different than the others. Stacey, Maria, Chloe... London's just another name he's adding to his long list."

My eyes widen when I realize, once again, I'm their topic of conversation.

And Chloe. I've heard them say that name before.

"I think you're all just fooling yourselves, wishing he didn't really like her so you'd still have a chance to be his before we graduate."

"Gotta agree with Noelle on this one. Have you seen how he acts around her? We haven't seen him this way since... Elena."

Elena. Another familiar name.

"So true. And have you noticed how David's never around them? We haven't seen one of Jalen's relationships cause this much friction in their friendship since Elena!"

I feel fucking sick.

"Nah, you guys are thinking about it too much. I bet this is all just another game, and Jalen and David have just upped the stakes this time."

"Lyndon."

My head snaps around, finding Jalen standing over me.

His gaze flitters to the girls before coming back down to me, face blank.

I raise a brow. He clearly heard what I heard—or at least some of it. He knows what's running through my mind. Should I even have to ask?

"Ignore it," he says with a shake of his head.

I slowly stand, hoping to gain some confidence by putting us more eye to eye, rather than having Jalen loom over me. His height still gives him an advantage, but with the way his shoulders are tense and his fist is clenched at his side, I can't help feeling like I have the power here.

"I'm supposed to ignore this?" I ask incredulously. "Jalen, come on. What's this about a game and... Ele—"

"I said ignore it." Jalen practically spits the words out as he cuts me off, face hardening. He then takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When they reopen, his face slightly softens. "I have to get home. Are you ready to go?"

I observe him for several seconds, then look toward Vittorio's ice cream stand, noticing he's closing early for the day.

"Is everything okay?" I ask, despite still wanting an answer to my previous question.

Jalen nods, then backtracks and shakes his head. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"It's never anything I need to worry about."

"Lyndon," he says with a groan. "I don't want to fight."

"And I do?" I ask while laughing.

He places a hand on each side of my face, lightly kissing my forehead. The action is so gentle and sweet it almost melts away my anger.

Almost.

I look up at him with squinted eyes. "I could help. Maybe not by actually solving your problems, but I can be there for you, Jalen. If you'd just let me."

Jalen watches me for a moment, eyes searching all over my face for an answer I wish he'd just ask me for. I can't tell what he wants from me, what he expects, what he needs.

He flashes me a small smile, but the sad look in his eyes is very obvious. "I know, baby. But I can handle it on my own. It's just some family stuff. You don't need to worry."

I feel like screaming. Not out of anger at him shutting me out or pushing me away. I'll be mad about that later.

I want to scream because he seems to feel like he should push me away. As if he doesn't... deserve my help, or to have me be there for him.

You're not a burden! I want to shout. Let me be there for you! I want to be there for you! I think I l...

Stopping myself there, I decide that this isn't about me. Whatever Vittorio told him that he has to deal with isn't about me. And no matter how much I want to be there with him, and how much I wish he'd want me too, I can't force it.

And I can't fault him for not doing what I want.

All I can do is try to understand. I may be wrong, but to me, it seems like Jalen isn't as full of himself or confident as everyone in school makes him seem.

He's a king to these people. A literal king in their eyes. But to Jalen, in his own eyes, he seems to think... he's nothing.

"I'll worry regardless," I tell him softly. "Because I care about you. That's what you do when you care about people."

Jalen swallows hard, seeming uncomfortable. I ignore what that could mean, pushing it aside along with every other reason I have to doubt him.

This isn't about that right now.

"If you want to talk later, I'll answer," I say while reaching up to kiss his cheek.

Jalen's eyes find my own, searching again, making me wish I knew what it was he was looking for.

Then, he leans down, kissing me softly and sweetly, such a contrast to how he was just before.

He pulls away enough to let me catch my breath, but leaves his forehead resting against mine.

We say nothing after that, instead silently getting into his car so he can drop me home.

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"He said he'd kick me off the team if I don't get my grade up. What a bitch ass motherfucker!"

I roll my eyes as Noah continues complaining about his track coach threatening to stop him from playing if he doesn't pass all his classes.

"I could tutor you," Daniel politely offers.

Noah grimaces. "Can you just give me the answers?"

Elijah cackles at that, making me laugh too, and Jalen's blue eyes quickly find mine from across the table.

We've decided to start sitting with the group again. Well, more like I decided to prove the rumors wrong. If sitting here, looking like I get along with David and we're all good makes people stop having something to talk about, then so be it.

I ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach whenever I remember what those girls said. The games. Elena. Chloe. David and Jalen's friendship faltering. It's too much to handle, so I decide to not handle it at all.

It doesn't help that Jalen never told me what was wrong that day. He ended up calling me at night, but it was only to say good night. For a brief second, he had hesitated, and it made me think he'd actually tell me everything. Instead, he told me he'd pick me up for school again, and we hung up—whatever he was going to say forgotten and ignored.

The sounds of voices and laughter in the cafeteria slightly dies down as Malia enters. It usually does whenever she shows up. People are either glaring or in awe of her—it's irritating.

She reaches our table and takes a seat in between David and Jalen, both boys glancing to her—David with a smirk and Jalen with a small smile.

I feel my stomach churn, still stupidly bothered by their closeness, as if I don't have other things to worry about.

Thankfully, I'm not the only one bothered by it. Dedra huffs and gathers her things, exiting the cafeteria after announcing, "I have a meeting with my teacher."

I call bullshit.

Rising from my seat seconds later, not wanting to be obvious but also not wanting to risk losing sight of her, I quickly say, "I gotta use the bathroom."

Jalen's head snaps my way, unbelieving eyes following my every move.

Wow. Now he's the one not trusting me?

"You sick or something?" David asks loudly, noticing the way Jalen's looking at me.

Before I can kindly tell him to fuck off and mind his own motherfucking business, my lovely twin speaks up. "You gotta take a shit?"

I shoot Noah a glare, but choose to not even acknowledge his annoying ass.

"I have to change my pad, actually," I say, ignoring the way Malia's face scrunches at my abruptness. But the words succeed in making David, Noah, and Jalen all leave me alone.

I finally leave after that. I rush down the hall, trying to find where the fuck Dedra went. I get my answer when I turn a corner and find her shoving books in her locker.

I fasten my pace to reach her, and once I do, I stand by her open locker. This proves to be a stupid idea seeing as once she closes it and sees my face, she lets out a loud scream.

"Well, that's kind of insulting."

Dedra holds a hand to her chest. "Jesus fucking Christ. You scared the piss out of me, Lyndon."

"Sorry, but we need to talk," I say while dragging her into the nearest bathroom.

We enter quickly, and I waste no time taking in a deep breath and talking.

"I need to ask you something and I need you to be one hundred percent honest with me."

"You're not gonna ask if I'm really meeting with a teacher first?"

"Dedra, I couldn't give less of a shit about that. Please just let me ask my question." I take another deep breath, regretting it instantly at the bad smell in here. After coughing, and ignoring the confused look Dedra casts me, I finally ask, "What did you mean all those months ago when you mentioned the games to me?"

Dedra's brows scrunch in confusion. "What? Where is this coming from?"

"Dedra," I say pleadingly, taking a step closer and hoping the desperation for honesty shows on my face. "What did you mean?"

She sighs. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors and know exactly what I meant."

"But are they true? Are the games real?"

"With how much shit people talk around here, who knows what's true or not," she says before letting out a humorless laugh. "Arlin and everyone in it are insane, Lyndon. Remember that before you start believing what people say."

"Are Jalen and David insane, too?"

Another laugh comes from her. "If you haven't gotten the answer to that on your own yet, then I can't help you."

"You're sounding just like them right now," I tell her, an edge to my voice. "You're talking in circles and being cryptic as fuck."

Dedra bites her bottom lip, before stepping closer, bringing us literally face to face. "Lyndon, I'm just as in the dark as you, okay? People talk around here, and sometimes it's true, sometimes it's not."

I continue looking into her eyes, and maybe that desperation for answers on my face finally reaches her, because she sighs and reaches out to touch my shoulder.

"I can only tell you what I know for sure. I'm not gonna stand here and spread lies or speak about shit I know nothing about," she says, looking at me sternly.

"That's all I want, Dedra. I just want the truth."

She nods her head and removes her hand from my shoulder. "David plays games, but it's not the kind you think. He doesn't manipulate or devirginize girls, and he doesn't pick a different one every week to parade around the school."

"So, basically, he doesn't do any of the things Jalen's accused of?"

Dedra nods once more. "If he is doing that shit, he's obviously hiding it from me. But I really doubt he is, Lyndon. We're not in a relationship. We've made it perfectly clear that we're nowhere near exclusive to one another. He could fuck as many of these girls as he wants and not have to hide a single thing about it from me. And if you know David, which you do, despite how much you hate him, you know he doesn't lie. His honesty is sometimes too much, but you can always count on him for the truth."

That doesn't ease me at all, seeing as David's said some harsh things since we've met—both about Jalen and our relationship.

"What games does he play, then?"

"Immature games. He blackmails people into doing the stupidest shit. Don't you ever notice how these kids serve us food and do his homework?" Dedra makes an annoyed face and rolls her eyes. "He gets dirt on them—even if it's something dumb like being on the track team but smoking pot—and he uses that as his way to get them to do what he wants. If he can't find anything, he'll pay them, but not usually. David's so immature he finds it funnier to have dirt on them."

"Wow," I breathe out. "That was so not what I was expecting."

"He's a real piece of work, that's for sure," Dedra comments, rolling her eyes once more. "Makes me really grateful that I'm not just into guys, because he is a prime example of everything wrong with that gender."

"Yeah," I say in agreement, before realizing what she just revealed. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, you didn't know? I'm bisexual," she answers casually. "I figured you'd have heard a rumor about it. As I said, people love talking shit."

"And you still choose to be with David because...?" I ask, not fathoming how she can have so many better options, yet still associate with that jackass.

She shrugs, not offended at all. "You seem to have a lot of doubts about Jalen, but you're still with him."

I shut up after that. What could I even say, besides that she's one hundred percent right?

"Plus, it's not serious between us," she adds. "It never was and never will be."

"Good," I tell her, hating how judgemental I sound, but unable to not praise her for at least not actually being with David for real. "And you know nothing about Jalen's involvement in the games?"

"No, sorry," she says, voice holding the smallest bit of sympathy. "Whatever he does, he keeps it quiet. And David would rather die than spill any of Jalen's secrets."

I shake my head, unsatisfied with her answer. I wonder if she knows anything about Chloe or Elena, or if she knows them at all?

"What about—"

"What the fuck are you two doing in here?"

We both snap our heads toward the door where, ironically, David and Jalen are standing.

Kill me now.

"Better question: what are you two doing in here?" Dedra asks her nonboyfriend.

"Dollface, you're really asking why we're in a mens' bathroom?"

This makes Dedra and I glance to one another, then around the room, taking in the very evident urinals to our left.

"Now it makes sense why it smelt so bad in here," I comment.

"I'ma need you to get the fuck out," David tells us, walking further into the bathroom and purposely brushing up against me.

I roll my eyes, but ignore him as I watch Jalen reach into the front pocket of his leather jacket and pull out a pack of cigarettes.

He notices my stare and flashes me an apologetic smile. "I gotta do it now before dismissal, no?"

That makes me smile, as he's promised before to have his annoying smoke before we meet at his car or bike so he can take me home.

The bell rings, and I take that as my opportunity to leave before anyone else comes in.

And before I once again choose Jalen and his charm over rational thoughts.

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I wrap my arms tighter around myself as I wait by Jalen's car.

The blue eyed boy finally comes down the stairs and makes his way into the parking lot, but I feel the dread building in my stomach when I spot David beside him.

Great. Here we go. He's gonna act stupid.

Once they reach me, I huff and roll my shoulders, trying to release the tension I already feel building at being treated this way.

Jalen's eyes travel up and down my body, focusing on the tapping of my foot against the floor, before his eyes find mine and he smiles.

Then, he turns to David and says, "I'll catch you later."

David laughs in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Jalen's eyes find me again, before turning to David with a blank face. "As a heart attack."

This makes David's jaw clench, before his gaze finds mine, and I flash him the brightest smile I can manage. Rather than saying anything more, David sends me one more glare before walking further down the parking lot. My eyes and happy smile follow him, until I spot a group of cheerleaders and football players heading toward the field.

Cortney's leading the group, with Daniel and Elijah and all the other guys trailing behind her. The way she walks, as if she owns the fucking place, makes my blood boil.

And makes me wonder all over if her and Jalen did anything.

Is this how it will always be? Will I always keep wondering?

Elijah catches my eye from across the parking lot, and he sends me a nod of acknowledgement that somehow eases some of my worries.

Wait. That can't be good.

I turn away, facing Jalen and finding his eyes already on me. "Ready?"

My stomach continues churning at all these new thoughts, and another wave of sickness hits me.

"Lynnie, what's up?"

Noah comes out of nowhere, blocking my sight of Jalen and bringing my eyes to his.

"Want me to take you home?"

"It's fine. I got it," Jalen answers for me, stepping around Noah and standing by my side.

"Mind your business," Noah tells him, hard glare coming to his face.

Jalen's jaw clenches as he moves forward, blocking half of my body from Noah with his.

The tension is too much. All they're doing is making me more fucking sick.

"Lyndon!" a voice yells from further away. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

All three of us turn toward the voice, and I'm almost confused to see it's Knox. We never associate in school.

And... what the fuck did I do to get him so mad?

"What's got your panties in a twist?" Noah asks once he reaches us.

Knox's steely gaze is still set on me. "You're London, right?"

I feel Jalen turn toward us in confusion. I guess he really doesn't listen to what people say.

But I do, and apparently Knox does too. Because if he's this mad and trying to confirm if I'm London, that means he's heard something.

Something bad.

"What happened?" I ask, voice low, any anger I'd usually feel at my baby brother talking to me like this gone.

Knox takes in a shaky breath, clearly trying to control whatever anger he's feeling. "They're talking about our family again, and they're doing it because they all hate you."

The nausea comes back in full force, especially when Noah walks toward the group of students Knox points too and returns seconds later with a pissed off face.

"Let's go. Now," he tells us both.

"Wha—What are they saying?" I ask him.

Noah looks to me, face blank and voice emotionless as he says two words I definitely didn't expect or want to hear.

"Dad cheated."

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"What do you mean it was with Denise's sister? That's fucking gross!" I yell.

Noah nods from his spot on the couch. "I know, I know. She's like twenty."

"Twenty-five, to be exact. Probably twenty-four when it happened," Knox says.

I look toward the kitchen, at Knox sitting on the barstool, elbows on the counter as he supports his head. The sadness pooling in his eyes is clear as day, and despite how fucking annoying he is, it still makes my heart break to see my baby brother like this.

This was exactly how he looked every time Mom and Dad fought. Every time Dad left, Mom cried, and we didn't know what to do. This same look in his eye is why we chose to comfort Mom, to wipe her tears as best as we could.

I knew Knox wouldn't sleep if he knew Mom wasn't, and I couldn't close my eyes at night with the knowledge that my eight year old brother was upset over something that he shouldn't have even heard.

The room is filled with silence as we wait. It's just us three home, but it won't be like that for long. Dad's supposed to be home any second. It's why we all decided to rush home so we could catch him before Mom returns.

I barely spared Jalen a second glance as we ran into the car as if our asses were on fire.

"What if it's not true?"

Noah's voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I send him a questioning look.

"I mean, it could just be a rumor," Noah reasons. "We know how that shit goes. People spread fake stories. So what if this is fake? What if Dad didn't cheat?"

"Don't be stupid," Knox reprimands.

Noah sends him a glare, fists clenching. "You don't be stupid and get your ass kicked for talking to me like that."

Knox rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Keep using violence to get your way. That's definitely going to make you look less stupid."

"I'm not trying to look smart. I'm just trying to give you a black eye," Noah answers while standing from his seat.

I quickly rise from my spot and push Noah back down. "This is not the time to start fighting, so stop fucking anatagonizing each other."

Knox watches with an uninterested face from his seat, then reaches for his water bottle and takes a sip.

His nonchalance makes me wonder if we do have enough time for Noah to quickly kick his ass...

That thought, and any other animosity we have toward each other, vanishes when we hear a car door close and alarm go off outside. It's impossible, but I feel like I can hear the footsteps coming up the porch steps. The key turning the lock echoes around the empty room. And when Dad steps pass the threshold, obnoxious whistling filling the room, I swear all three of us stop breathing.

The whistling ceases once Dad looks up, glances at each of our faces, and lets out a chuckle. "Hey. What're you all doing out here... together?"

He looks genuinely shocked to see us together, and it makes me sad for a second at the fact that it has been a while since us three chose to hang out. Or even have a conversation for longer than a few minutes.

This isn't the time to ponder that thought. Not when Dad's unfaithfulness is still hanging in the air.

"We need to talk," Knox says while standing. The hardness in his tone has Dad's shock multiplying, stupid suitcase slipping from his hand and hitting the floor. "Let's go in here."

Knox's demand has everyone moving to the living room. Noah retakes his seat on the couch, I choose the one next to him, and Dad slowly takes the single seater.

The sadness in Knox's eyes is replaced with a burning anger, his face morphing into a scowl I've never seen there before. Saint Knox isn't a saint anymore.

"What's going on?" Dad demands from his seat.

Noah's eyes flick to Knox, then he sighs before speaking. "We have to ask you something."

It's clear Noah's trying to take control of this thing, seeing as Knox has already deemed Dad guilty and I can't seem to find my voice. Noah's always been one to give the benefit of the doubt.

While Knox has always chosen Mom's side—no matter what—and I've always been angry with both, Noah's remained in the middle. Chosen to stay on good terms with both, no matter how horrible and ugly their arguments got.

Dad lets out a chuckle. "Sounds serious."

"It is," Knox answers in a hard tone, jaw clenched.

My stomach churns as I turn back to Dad, observing him. He brings his hands to his lap, fingers interlocking. "What's up?"

The room goes quiet again. Noah looks to the ground, swallowing hard. Knox clenches his fist, angry glare set on Dad.

It remains quiet. My gaze switches from Noah to Knox, back to Noah, then back to Knox. I can practically see the thoughts running through their minds, the struggle they're having to form the words.

Dad watches expressionless. And as he begins noticing their struggles too, I can see the tension leaving his body. The calm taking over.

As if he knows what I'm realizing. They won't say anything. They're not going to say anything.

One's deemed him guilty already, and the other doesn't want to know the truth.

My anger overtakes my shock. I'm so tired of having to fish for answers, and I'm so fucking tired of cheating being a part of it.

"Why'd we move?"

Dad's attention snaps to me at my words. He furrows his brows, confused.

"Do you not know the answer?" I question again, feeling my anger rise at his expression.

Don't pretend you don't know what's going on.

"That's something you should ask your mother," he says calmly. "I didn't make you move."

"You're just gonna blame her?" I counter, tilting my head to the side.

Dad sighs heavily. "I know you were upset at this move, but Sunshine, I had no part in this. Believe me."

I cringe at the nickname, hating the nostalgic effect it still manages to have on me after everything he's put me and this family through.

"No part at all?" I stand from the couch, feeling like I need the extra height over him in order to maintain control. "You didn't do something that made Mom feel she needed to follow you to another state?"

His eyes squint, and I can't tell if it's from anger at the accusation or if he's just trying to figure out what I'm implying.

But there's no need for him to figure anything out. Because I'll gladly lay it all out for him.

After all, it seems as if unfaithfulness is my new area of expertise.

"Did you cheat on Mom?"

Both Dad and I turn toward Noah, shock spreading across our faces at his words.

I didn't expect him to add anything to the conversation, and Dad seems lost at the accusation.

"So you did," Knox says surely. "It's written all over your face."

Dad remains quiet, which seems guilty enough, but for some reason, I don't see it on his face. I just see a man, confused and lost, as his children confront him with something he'd never thought they'd say.

I let out a fake laugh. "Is that how it happened? She was catching on, so you asked her to move up here to throw her off? Make her believe she was wrong?"

My voice grows louder with the accusations. It's no secret to anyone that my mother's never been my favorite person. I can barely tolerate her. But to hear that she believed her husband was unfaithful, and he denied it—made her feel like she was overreacting, that she was the problem—makes my fucking blood boil.

It hits too fucking close to home for me.

"Did she confront you about it? Did you lie to her face?" Knox asks angrily, rising from his seat and standing by my side over our father.

For once, we're on the same side—the same team.

Noah comes to my other side, but stands a step ahead, closer to where Dad's sitting. He raises a hand in the air, as if that'll cut the tension.

"Dad," he calls out pleadingly. "Did you cheat?"

"Obviously," Knox answers dryly.

Noah shoots him a glare, angling his body toward him. "Shut the fuck up and let him answer."

"Why? He did it! We know he did!" Knox yells. The volume of his voice makes me flinch. I'm not used to it from him. It makes my chest tighten. "We don't need to hear him out. His excuses don't matter. What matters is what Ma knows."

I ignore my brothers, and focus on Dad, watching as his face softens. He still doesn't look guilty, or angry, or anything.

His face is blank, and then he raises his head, making our eyes meet.

Those eyes—so similar to mine—tell me everything.

"Oh my god," I mutter. "You did cheat."

He blinks once, then twice. "Kids... we should—"

"Why won't you just answer?" Noah interrupts, all anger directed at Knox now pushed onto our dad.

Finally.

Dad rises from his chair, facing us. He sighs once more, then opens his mouth.

"It's true."

The words don't come from him though. All four of us turn toward the door, where Mom's standing, grocery bags in each hand.

"What?" Knox asks, voice cracking with just one word.

Mom raises her chin in the air, breezing past us as she dumps the bags onto the kitchen counter.

"You asked and I answered," she says with a shrug.

"Are you serious?" Noah walks around the couch and reaches her side. "You know?"

A heavy sigh leaves our mother's lips. She looks over our heads at Dad, whose own gaze is set on the ground in shame.

Finally some emotion has surfaced.

"You've known all this time that he cheated?" Knox tries questioning, moving closer to Mom.

She raises her hand toward him, stopping him from reaching her. "Yes, baby. I'm sorry you all had to find out."

"Why are you sorry?" Knox reels his head back, eyes hardening again. "He cheated. He messed up. Not you, Ma."

Mom frowns, slowly shaking her head. "It shouldn't involve you."

"Your mother's right," Dad says, finally speaking up.

"Don't you dare add your opinion now," Knox quickly answers him, pointing harshly his way. "You have no right."

"Baby, don't," Mom softly reprimands, reaching to grab Knox's outreached hand. "We've moved past it. I want you to do the same."

What the actual fuck?

He cheated, she knew, and she stood? She moved past it, and now wants us to do the same? Is she for fucking real?

"How long have you known?" Noah asks her.

Mom bites her lip, seeming to contemplate her answer. Finally, she takes a seat on the barstool and says, "A couple of months."

"So this is why we moved," I comment. "You found out he cheated, so you followed him to... what? Keep an eye out? Make sure he didn't do it again?"

I don't miss the way Dad's gaze quickly swings to Mom. It gives me the idea that he thinks that's exactly why she insisted we move. To watch him.

"No," she says harshly. "We wanted to work on our marriage. The only way to do that was to be in the same state, Lyndon."

"Your mother's right," Dad adds again, but this time, his tone isn't as believing.

"As I said, we've moved past it. You all need to do the same. If I can, you most certainly can, too."

How do you get past cheating? How can we get past the proof that our family truly is broken?

Knox's face says it all. He remains quiet, but the brokenness and hurt surfacing speaks volumes. It makes my throat tighten just as much as my chest has. For a brief second, I think I might cry. My eyes burn with tears, but I blink them away.

They're not worth my tears. Mom and Dad never were, and I regret the few times I ever let myself contemplate crying over them. Even Knox isn't worth it. Neither is Noah.

Not with the way they both give in so quickly, nodding their heads at our mother's words, accepting her telling us how we should deal with this bombshell.

Rather than giving in the way they did, or hell, the way my mom apparently did when she found out, I decide to do what Dad does best.

I leave.

And I don't look back. Not when Noah reaches for my arm, and certainly not when Dad calls out my name.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

My heart races as I drive down an empty street.

I have no idea where I am or how long I've been driving. I'm still so unfamiliar with this city. Other than my house, there's only two places I've become accustomed to, and that's Arlin Preparatory High School and Jalen's house.

It's kind of ironic that those are the two places I know, seeing as the first one is where every deadly rumor has come from, and the second is a home to the one person who's caused all these rumors to be spread.

Even if Jalen's indirectly the cause, it still counts. I firmly believe none of this would happen without him. I don't think people would be interested in me, my life, or tearing it all down if it wasn't for him.

He's the cause of it all.

Actually, no. My father is a huge blame in this. He ruined our family, and in turn, ruined my life.

He caused this move. I wouldn't have went to Arlin Preparatory or ever met Jalen if it wasn't for him.

I slam my fist on the wheel, feeling my anger rise as I think about what he did.

That's what Liam did. That's what I'm still not sure if Jalen did.

What is wrong with people? How can someone be in a committed relationship, make their partner feel secure and content, only to turn around and be with someone else?

How hard is it to end things if you're so unsatisfied? How hard is it to talk things out if you're unhappy?

How hard is it to have one ounce of respect for your partner?

As I feel my eyes sting once more with tears, I quickly pull over.

I can't keep driving. I need to let out this anger and sadness and every fucking thing else.

I can't keep holding it in.

Reaching for my phone, I begin dialing a number. When I realize what I'm doing, I hang up before it can ring.

Jalen with a heart next to it is on the screen of my phone.

I can't call him. How could I possibly call him and vent to him when I'm still so unsure if he cheated?

Seeing Jalen will only open a can of worms I'm not mentally prepared to deal with right now.

The next logical thing to do would be to call Daniel, or even Malia—she is my cousin, for crying out loud.

It's honestly in my best interest to stop running and just go home. Deal with this head on just as I should've dealt with Jalen possibly cheating.

But rather than doing any of that, I search through my phone again, and without thinking, I dial the number of someone I know should not be my first call.

"Hello?" he questions rather than greets, serving as another reminder of how bad of an idea this is.

I take in a deep breath. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"I'm... home," he answers, voice still sounding questioning. "Lyndon, is everything okay?"

"Yes," I say, then pause and let another tear out. "No. Can I... can you meet me?"

I close my eyes, awaiting his answer.

I can't take rejection right now.

I can feel his hesitation through the phone. "I... I can't leave my house."

"Oh... okay," I say, voice cracking, signalling to him just how unokay I am.

"You can come over," he suggests.

"Are you... are you sure? Actually, no, it's fine. I'm good. We can talk at school. Good ni—"

"Lyndon," he calls out, interrupting my rambling. His voice remains soft as he says reassuringly, "Please come over. I'll text you my address."

I nod my head even if he can't see me. Though I know this was my chance to backtrack and stop myself from making this decision, I ignore it.

Instead, I let out a breath of relief.

"Thank you, Elijah."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

A / N:

This took longer than I thought it would, but I'm so excited to write / post the next couple of chapters! I'm hoping to have this story finished before the year ends.

Also, I think I finally came up with a ship name for Lyndon and Jalen. Jyndon! Kind of sounds like gin-don, which is fitting since gin is apart of it lol.

Now that that's out of the way, I have a quick question: who do we ship more? Lynjah (Lyndon + Elijah) or Jyndon (Lyndon + Jalen)?

See you soon with the next chapter!