Chapter 43: 39 | Broken

3 9

Broken

"This is honestly unbelievable. What in the world came over you, Lyndon?"

I ignore Mom's glare, and catch Dad's eye from across the living room. He mouths the word sorry. I assumed he didn't tell Mom about the fight because it's been three days and she never mentioned it. But I haven't gone back to school, faking sick to stay home. I guess the school's office got suspicious and finally contacted the Prince household to see what's happening.

And I guess it's just my luck that the big mouth gossip whore secretary was the one who called, and my oblivious mother was the one who answered the phone.

Mom and I haven't had a real conversation in weeks. I don't plan on starting now, especially if all she's going to do is scold me.

"Is it really that unbelievable?"

My focus on the table in front of me breaks at the sound of Knox's voice. For a second, I can't remember the last time I heard it, let alone heard him directing a word in my direction—well, it's technically indirect, but whatever.

Everyone else in the room seems to freeze for a second, and one by one Mom, Dad, Noah, and I all look toward Knox. He quickly bows his head, fingers furiously pulling at the ends of his sweatshirt, before he rises from his chair. "I'm heading out."

"Right now?" Mom asks, with no annoyance present in her voice—but if Noah or I just got up and said that during a family meeting, she'd sound a lot different. "I'd really like to meet these friends you're always with."

Confusion floods Dad's face, just as I'm sure it does mine. I had no clue Knox had any friends, let alone that he was hanging out with them enough for Mom to notice.

Noah doesn't look confused, though. For some reason, I feel the slightest twist of my heart. I have enough going on to be upset about, and seeing that Noah knows more about Knox's life than I do just adds to the growing pile.

I vaguely remember a time when Knox and I were closer. Never as close as Noah and I—but that's because we're twins, always forced to be together—but we got along. And anytime our younger brother needed something, and he couldn't find Mom or felt weird confiding in her, he turned to me. He might have never been happy about it, but when it came down to having to pick between me or Noah, he always chose me.

Now, it feels like there's not even a choice to be made. I think the only person I can top in his eyes is Dad, and that's not saying much, because he can't stand that man more than anything.

Knox opens his mouth, then glances toward me and closes it. I frown, wondering if I'm the reason he's deciding not to share. He quickly walks toward where Mom is standing by the couch, kisses her cheek, and says, "I'll be back in an hour or so."

And the knife in my heart just keeps twisting.

It's silent for several seconds after the front door closes behind Knox. Noah moves to the window to peek out, then turns around and faces me, squinting his eyes a little. I don't understand what the look means, and at this point, I don't care.

"Anyway," Dad announces after clearing his throat, "Lyndon's not suspended. It's not going on her permanent record at all. Let's just... all move on."

Just like we're supposed to move on from his affair... nice.

"Nicholas, we're supposed to move on from her physically attacking her classmate?" Mom's voice comes out high and squeaky, full of disbelief. "We need to address the fact that this violence is not okay. It's not the first time this has happened."

Dad's brows furrow at that, and Noah lets out a little laugh. I can't find humor in the fact that Dad knows nothing about my last fight.

Mom sighs heavily. "She attacked a classmate at Beach Way. She only received detention, we made it go away by arguing it was because she was being bullied. But that wasn't the case then, and it's certainly not the case now. How did you get the Headmaster to let her get away with this, with no punishment?"

The more Mom talks, the more I want to bash my head into a wall. I got into that fight because I was defending her. But I guess the details don't matter, because they involve nasty rumors about affairs, and that's clearly a sensitive topic for her.

"I had a long conversation with the Headmaster and the Rousso's," Dad starts explaining. I feel my fists clench at the mention of their name, and the reminder of every shitty thing they've indirectly caused in my life. "This school's used to people paying to make problems go away, so that wasn't the issue." Dad pauses, and finds my eye as he says his next words. "Getting the Rousso's to not press charges was the hard part. You really bruised their daughter's face up, Sunshine."

Dad's words sound reprimanding, but the use of my nickname and the smug smile he's trying to fight off leave me confused. Mom, on the other hand, makes her disapproval clear with the glare she sends my way.

"I'm the one in a sling," I say softly while raising my left arm as much as I can for emphasis.

"You started the fight. Several people specifically said you attacked first," Dad replies.

"She egged me on," I say once again in an almost-whisper, not technically lying. Sure, Cortney didn't really say or do anything in that moment to start a fight, but that shit was building between us for months. It was bound to happen, I can admit that now.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter," Dad says while raising a hand dismissively. "The Headmaster had us come to an agreement quickly. He cared a lot more about dealing with Kendrick Carrington."

Headmaster Perry did look nervous when he told Malia they'd skype her stepfather. The way Dad says his name right now really makes me understand just how... scary, I guess is the word... this guy can be.

"What happened with that?" Mom asks Dad, voice almost as low as a whisper.

"The girl who posted the... pictures," Dad says while cringing, "is getting suspended. Kendrick wanted her in some kind of trouble for her actions."

"So Rachel did post them?" I ask, still not fully believing it.

Dad nods. "Yeah, she confessed. She kept insisting she didn't post a restraining order, I think? I don't know. That part confused me. I thought we were there because of a fight, and then they're bringing up pictures and restraining orders."

Maybe Rachel really was the one who posted the pictures, since she did confess. But if she's denying the restraining order, that means Cortney did it. She was involved. I fucking knew it.

"Sounds like a messy situation," Noah comments, speaking for the first time since this meeting was called. He glances at Mom and Dad, then smiles. "One that I'm not involved in at all. And I stood for this whole talk. I should be your new favorite."

Dad chuckles. "I don't have favorites."

"How could you?" I question bitterly.

I immediately bring my hand to my mouth, not having meant to say the words aloud. I one hundred percent mean them. How could he have a favorite when he's never around long enough? But I really didn't mean for him to hear.

Dad's eyes find mine, and he sits quietly, not reaching out to smack me the way Mom would if I had said something like that to her.

"Sorry," I mumble, eyes widening once again right after. Since when do I apologize, especially to Dad?

He nods at me once, sending me a sad smile, before turning to Mom. "As I said, it's handled. Let's move on."

Mom sighs heavily. "I guess we will. I'm going to call Taliana, though. I need the full story. And to see how Malia is doing. That poor girl."

For a moment, I think of doing the same. Checking up on Malia. But that stupid voice in the back of my head is still bitter toward her, and even when I push it away long enough to convince myself Malia is family and needs my support right now, I still can't force myself to call.

I know her well enough to know she'll redirect the conversation. And I can't handle talking about... him.

Another glance in Dad's direction reminds me of what he said.

I am so sorry that you think what I just saw was okay.

Does he have a point? Am I ever really happy when I'm with Jalen?

The thought hurts, almost as much as the reminders of the argument me and Jalen had. He said mean things, I said mean things. I wish I could take some back, take it all back. Did I go too far by saying I didn't love him? Because I do. I really, really do.

And I miss him. It's barely been three days and I already miss his voice, his smile, his touch, his stupidly adorable dimple.

Cheating's in your blood.

I clench my fist. I don't miss his bad temper, his lies, his half-truths, his mean glare.

Taking in a deep breath to calm down and not let myself get all worked up again about it, I remember what I said to him. Telling him I didn't love him wasn't the only mean thing I said.

So, is Dad right? How can that be happiness, love, when we can so easily break the other down?

Maybe it's not happiness all the time, but it sure as hell is love, at least on my end. I know I love Jalen. I know that I probably shouldn't, but I do. It wouldn't hurt this much if I didn't.

I take in another deep breath, feeling the tears building up again. Just as I rise from the couch, Mom calls out, "Come on, let's have dinner together."

"I'm not hungry." She sends me an annoyed look. "I'm really not."

My stomach began churning the second I started thinking about that day, and the longer Mom gives me that disbelieving look, the more nauseous I get.

Luckily, she doesn't say anything, opting to roll her eyes and begin serving Dad. Dad sends me a quick look, before following Mom into the kitchen. When I think I'm in the clear, I'm stopped from making my escape when Noah's hand wraps around my arm, yanking me three steps back.

I send him a questioning look. His eyes glance from my face to the rough hold he still has on my arm. "What? You're not gonna curse me out for grabbing you like that? Or shove me off?"

I should push him away, seeing as he's hurting my good arm. I won't be surprised if I wake up with a bruise.

"Just tell me what you want," I find myself saying instead, still not bothering to move. The sooner he speaks, the sooner this is over.

He looks me over once more, then removes his hand from me, giving me a quick shove along the way. "You're gonna eat in your room or...?"

"I said I wasn't hungry," I tell him. When he doesn't respond or make any other movements, I turn and continue my way to my room.

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"Oh my god, oh my god! London's coming this way now. You guys really think they broke up?"

I keep my head down, having already heard this question whispered amongst my schoolmates too many times to count today. A big part of me wanted to just skip school, but playing sick can only work for so long. After my third stomachache in a row, Mom got way too suspicious, and that phone call from the school detailing the fight didn't help my case. She wouldn't let me miss any more days of school.

Just as I open my locker, it's slammed shut, almost catching my fingers in the process.

I turn my head toward the culprit, not even surprised to find Noah standing there. Daniel's by his side, so I try sending him a small smile, but all I get in return is a disappointed gaze.

"What?" I ask them both.

"Why didn't you come to class?"

I give Daniel an are you serious? look. Why the hell else would I have missed health, the one class I actually have with...

I sigh. "You know why."

"Lyndon," Daniel reprimands. "Don't do this."

"College applications are in. We've been accepted into our schools already. Grades don't matter anymore," I tell him.

"Grades and school always matter," Daniel quickly says. "I thought that was something you and I could always agree on."

"Looks like you thought wrong," I tell him before turning to my locker and reopening it. Just as I finish putting the combination in, I glance toward Noah. "Slam my locker shut again like that and your face will follow it."

Noah whistles. "I'm actually happy to hear that."

I turn to him again. "You're happy to be threatened? Ugh, are you secretly recording so you can show Mom I'm violent? You'll never be the favorite, Noah. That spot is solely Knox's."

"Yeah, I know that," Noah says, shrugging. "But no, I'm not happy about being threatened. I'm happy it's coming from you."

I'm not even sure what that means or how to respond, so I opt for ignoring him. I gather the books I need for class, then close my locker.

And of course the second I turn again, Jalen and David walk by. David stops to tap Daniel roughly on the back, cackling loudly at the pure look of annoyance on his twin's face.

As much as I want too, I can't keep my eyes from finding Jalen's, and the second I do, the smirk from his face drops. I guess he didn't see me standing here.

It feels like the world goes silent, though that's clearly not possible due to the loud noises coming from everyone else in the hallway, the sound of Daniel telling David he's so annoying, and Noah laughing loud enough for David to tell him to shut the hell up.

And even as Noah makes a show of dropping his backpack to the floor and jokingly steps to David, who does the same and purposely pushes Daniel between them as the barrier, I can't take my eyes off of Jalen's.

Through all their stupidity and laughter, I can't look away.

I wait for him to do or say something. I'm not sure what I want to see, what I want to hear. I'm not sure if I'll even care to talk it out, to either get another form of closure or to fix what we broke.

Because, clearly, something's broken here. I can swear to myself all I want that it's him who's broken. He's the broken one here. But it's our trust, our communication, it's him, and maybe, it's even me.

But can we fix it?

The movement over Jalen's shoulder has my eyes finding Cortney down the hall, gathered with her cheerleaders.

I can't fix that. I can't fix their arrangement, their impending engagement. I can't fix the previous lies Jalen's told, and I can't fix whatever the hell he did with Rachel during our break. I can't even fix my own issues with Malia and their friendship.

So how the hell can we fix us with all this other baggage piling on top?

I need effort from him. We both have to want this to work if it's going to be fixed.

But when my eyes find him again, after that brief second of looking away, I find annoyance, anger, and disinterest swarming his face.

He flashes me that uncaring look once more, before tapping David's shoulder and signalling with his head down the hall.

Jalen's gone after that.

And after glancing at me with a look I can't read at all, probably because of my eyes filling with tears for the thousandth time this week, David's gone too.

I take off in the other direction, toward the exit.

"Lynnie," I hear Noah calling behind me, "I thought your class was this way!"

"Fuck that," I say, not sure if he can even hear.

I slam the side door open and leave Arlin Preparatory.

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The gym teacher's obnoxious whistle echoes through the gym. I make my way to the line and wait for attendance. Noah's already seated there, not so subtly on his phone.

"You're supposed to leave that in your locker," I tell him jokingly as I sit in the spot beside him.

He looks up slowly, scans me from head to toe, then brings his attention back to his phone.

"You don't care, clearly," I say, keeping the same teasing tone as I reach for my own phone that's hidden in the waistband of my sweats. "And apparently, neither do I. I guess we really are twins."

Noah's eyes remain glued to his phone, fingers beginning to rapidly type away.

"Are you ignoring me?" I ask just as the gym teacher reaches us and calls out our names.

"Prince and Prince," she says, sounding bored.

"Present," Noah calls out, eyes finally off his phone.

"Here," I squeak out, barely paying her any attention. When she's gone, Noah goes right back to his screen. I reach my hand out to block his view. "Come on. What did I do to you?"

"It's not what you're doing to me," he finally responds, practically spitting the words out. "It's what you're doing to yourself."

I furrow my brows, confused. "What does that mean?"

The whistle blows once more, indicating that attendance is over. Noah quickly stands and makes his way to Daniel. I follow, feeling like his shadow.

"Don't walk away from me after saying that," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest once he stops walking. "Why are you so mad at me?"

Noah opens his mouth to respond, but he's interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. One glance at the screen has him cursing under his breath, then turning to Daniel. "I gotta go. Cover for me?"

Daniel nods, ushering him away. Once Noah's gone, Daniel's eyes find mine, and he sends me a disappointed look.

"What?" I ask, exasperated and tired of both of their attitudes.

"I'm just surprised you actually came to class today," he tells me, moving towards the wall and sinking down to sit. He motions with his hand for me to follow, so I do. "I'm worried about you."

I let out a bark of laughter. "You're worried about me? Why?"

"I don't think you're handling this breakup well," he says while reaching for my hand gently. "And I'm sure seeing Jalen walk around as if nothing happened isn't helping."

I grind my teeth, thinking back to how he's been acting these past couple of days at school. He cuts most of his classes like he used, jokes around loudly with David in the halls like he used too, and lately, rumors of him and Cortney being the golden couple have been going around—like they used too.

It's like he's erased the last nine months of knowing me out of his mind, while I can't seem to forget about him for one single second.

It's not fair, and it fucking hurts.

"How am I supposed to be handling it, Daniel?"

His thumb lightly brushes the back of my hand, but nothing about the gesture feels comforting when those disappointed eyes find mine. "For one, you can stop cutting class. And start paying attention to the ones you actually go to."

I nod my head mockingly. "Okay, any other breakup tips while we're on the topic?"

Daniel drops my hand. "I'm trying to help you, Lyndon."

"It seems more like you're reprimanding me."

"Well, maybe I am," he says, voice getting higher. I don't think I've ever heard Daniel this annoyed, not since the time he tried stopping David and Noah from fighting. "I don't care if you already got into a good college or that we only have a few weeks left of school. It's no excuse to miss all of your classes, Lyndon."

"I'm not missing them all," I try defending with a light shrug. "Just some."

"I know you haven't been to one calculus class since you and Jalen broke up. I'm assuming that's because Rachel's supposed to be in it?"

My fists clench. "Don't say her name."

Daniel waves a hand dismissively at me. "I will say her name, because Rachel should not be a reason for why you miss class. Rachel should not have that much power over you. Fuck that bitch."

My jaw drops. I think this is the first time he's ever cursed, at least in front of me, and especially in a nasty way about someone else.

He seems to realize too, eyes slightly widening, before he shakes it off and continues. "I have better reasons than you to hate her, and want to avoid anywhere she is, but I don't do that. I come to school everyday, go to every class, and face every bit of B.S. these people have thrown my way since she outed me."

"Are people still—"

"No," he cuts me off. "David and Jalen, and even Eli, handled that for me. But that doesn't stop the stares, and it didn't stop these people from being rude to me before the guys said something."

I remain quiet, taking in what he's saying. Then, it clicks. "Elijah told you I've been missing class?"

Daniel watches me for several seconds, then nods. "He said you've been going to art, but you're always zoned out."

"So... he's been paying attention?"

He watches me again, before nodding once more. "We all have."

I'm ready to question what he means by that, by we, but the sight of Cortney walking across the gymnasium leaves me silent. Her bruised eye is fading, and that makes me want to freshen it up for her.

Daniel follows my line of sight, and sighs, before reaching his hand out to gently grab my shoulder. "You need to stop this, Lyndon."

"Stop what?" I ask, keeping my eyes on Cortney. Secretly, I'm waiting for her to make any kind of move that will give me a reason to start another fight.

"Stop this," he says, squeezing my shoulder and gesturing to me watching Cortney. "Stop harping on it, on them. Don't let a boy ruin you. It's not worth it."

"It's not worth it," I repeat slowly, turning to him in disbelief. "Have you ever been in love, Daniel? Do you know how that feels?"

Daniel's mouth shuts, eyes widening as he stares at me.

I take that as a no. "I didn't think so," I tell him, brushing his hand off. "You can't tell me it's not worth it or I'm not handling this the right way, when you have no idea how much this hurts and how hard this is for me."

Daniel remains quiet, still watching me.

I guess the conversation's over, so I begin standing.

"I didn't know that you love him." I look down when he speaks, taking in the bewildered expression his face holds. "Uh, does he know that you love him?"

You said you loved me.

Lyndon, you know me.

I blink hard to drive away the memory of Jalen's voice, of his face when I told him I didn't.

Looking at Daniel once more, I try to fight off my shaky voice as I say, "It doesn't matter. We're done."

I walk off toward the locker room, deciding that I should have gone with my gut instinct and cut this class. I won't make the same mistake twice, though. I'm leaving.

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Noah's seated on the couch with Knox when I finally come out of my room for another glass of water.

"Is it just us?" I ask them as I pass their way to get to the fridge.

Noah watches me as I open the fridge, and his jaw clenches when he sees I'm grabbing water.

"Ma and Dad are out," Knox tells me as he stands from the couch. "And I'm leaving."

"Oh, where are you going?" I ask as I begin pouring my water.

Knox squints his eyes at me. "You don't give a fuck."

I stop pouring, flashing him a frown. "Of course I do."

Knox chuckles, grabs the house keys, and leaves.

"What the hell is going on around here?" I ask after putting the water back and slamming the fridge shut. "All of a sudden you and Knox are besties, and now you both hate me?"

"Stop being dramatic. No one hates you," Noah says as he stands.

I feel like Jalen does. But that was the goal, wasn't it? Get him to leave the house that day, leave me alone forever and stop hurting me?

"Then why are you acting like you hate me?" I whisper, almost feeling stupid for asking.

"Because I'm mad at you."

"Why?"

"I already told you earlier, and Danny did too. You refuse to listen."

"Oh god." I groan in frustration. "You're in on that too? Thinking I'm handling this all wrong?"

Noah sighs, then comes to stand on the opposite side of the counter, across from me. "Look, I'm gonna say this shit once and then be done with it. You don't listen? That's on you."

I swallow the gulp of water I just took, then set the glass down. This seems serious. And those words, they sound too fucking familiar.

"I warned you about Jalen before," he begins, and I take in a deep breath, clearly remembering when he did. "You got with him anyway. And after he royally fucked up, you still went back to him. I'm hoping this is it. That this is the last time I'm gonna see you upset over that asshole."

"Noah..." I say, trying to find some way to defend myself.

He holds up a hand, cutting me off. "I haven't recognized you for months, Lynnie. And after this last breakup with him, I really cannot believe you're the same person I spent my entire life with. Skipping school? That's not you. Skipping meals? That's not you. Barely responding when I do something annoying? That's definitely not you."

Noah walks around the counter, putting us face to face. I feel another rush of tears coming to my eyes. I blink them away, but the emotion is still there, the sadness is still too much, and it makes my chest feel too heavy for this conversation.

"I'm worried about you," Noah says softly, eyes somehow appearing even lighter than they already are. I've never seen him this serious. Is the situation really this serious? "And I'm really fucking mad at you for having me this worried. We're seventeen, for fuck's sake. Why are you letting some guy affect you like this?"

Probably because he's not just some guy. He's Jalen Uccello. My Jalen. Well, he was my Jalen. And I'm trying to get over the fact that it's all past tense now. Why can't Noah and Daniel see that?

"Knox is going through some shit with his friends at school," Noah blurts out, eyes still firmly set on me. "I'm sure it killed him that he had to confide that in me, and not you. But how could anyone try coming to you when you walk around like a fucking half-dead zombie?"

The heaviness in my chest starts to feel painful, and the tears become harder to hold back. Having it confirmed that something—other than the shitshow of our parents—is happening in Knox's life and he felt he couldn't come to me is the final straw.

But to keep my guilt and hurt at bay, I find myself responding with, "How can a zombie be half-dead?"

"Lynnie," Noah calls out, stepping back and rolling his eyes. "You know what I mean. No one wants to be around your depressing ass. So get your shit together, or I'll do what I feel needs to be done to give you closure."

That's code word for I'll start a fucking fight with your ex, and I definitely don't want that.

"I'll... I'll try. Well, I am trying, but I'll try harder," I quickly say. "It's not easy, okay? I... I really care about him. Even after everything. I can't just... stop out of nowhere. Trust me, I really wish I could, but I can't. It doesn't work like that."

Noah nods his head, seeming satisfied with that answer.

"What's going on with Knox?"

Noah purses his lips, making it clear he's internally debating telling me. "Just stupid Arlin shit. Don't worry about it."

"That just makes me more worried," I say. "Arlin is a shitty place with shitty people and problems. What happened?"

"Honestly, it's more so Knox's new friend's problem than it is his, but I guess he feels responsible and wants to help."

"Help with what? What's going on with his friend?"

"Damn, Lynnie. I didn't interrogate him," Noah says with an eye roll. "I did what I could to help based on the information he gave me, and that's it."

"That sounds like a shit storm waiting to happen," I say while shaking my head, and feeling my guilt increase. I would've gotten all the details out of Knox and helped properly. Noah is so useless.

"Whatever," Noah says while waving his hand. "What's done is done. Don't worry about it. Focus on your damn self first, then we'll both sit Knox down and talk with him."

I nod along, and Noah finally smiles. Just as I try returning the smile, he snatches my glass of water from me and walks off.

Asshole.

From down the hall, I hear him yell out, "See! If this was a few months ago, you would've body slammed me and taken the water back."

I roll my eyes because he's right, and the realization that everything he's said is right fully hits me.

Oh no. Have I really lost sight of who I am?

No. No, I haven't. Noah's just an idiot. An idiot who knows me almost better than I know myself... but still an idiot... right?

The more I think about it, the less confident I am in my answer. It makes me want reassurance from someone else, but who? My only answer is Daniel, because he's the only other friend I actually have left. But how well does he really know me? If Noah's right, and I've changed, then that means Daniel doesn't know the true Lyndon.

Jalen.

I hate that my thoughts right away go there. That, in the back of my mind, when thinking of who truly knows me, I unconsciously look to him.

But he can't be. He can't be the one to know me. Because if what Noah's saying is true, and I've truly morphed into someone new, then it's Jalen's fault. It's all his fault.

I need someone else. Maybe Bea, or Jack. They knew Florida Lyn, and we're all on good terms now. Reaching out to them—even this late at night—seems like it'll be the only thing to ease my mind.

My phone vibrates from the counter, once then twice. Two messages come in, and I quickly reach for it, hoping it's from one of them, serving as a sign that they can help me through this stupid identity crisis Noah's just sent me into.

But when I glance at the screen, it's not either of their names, and I almost feel a sense of hope come to me when I unlock the phone.

Elijah: Hey Lyn, I just heard from Danny. I really hope you're not upset about what he said or what I told him. I was just trying to help.

Elijah: I'm sorry.

My chest tightens, an unidentifiable feeling tugging at me as I read and reread the two messages over and over.

My thumb hovers over the keyboard of my phone, and I type a reply that I never send, because I can't seem to find the right words. I'm not sure what to say to that.

I'm not sure why he feels the need to apologize, when this boy has done absolutely nothing wrong. He never has, not to me.

I'm dialing his number before I can overthink, which seems to be something I'm constantly doing these days. Calling people impulsively, sitting waiting nervously, wondering if it's the right choice.

But as the phone rings, once, twice, three times, I feel completely calm.

"Hey," his voice says from the other end.

A one-worded, simple greeting, and yet it causes my chest to feel tighter, my hand to grip my phone harder, and words failing to leave my lips.

"Lyn?"

Once upon a time, I despised that nickname. That's the one thing I know changed about me. It was what I loved, having that special nickname from everyone at Beach Way. But Liam and Jessica ruined it—and a lot of other things—for me.

How is it that Elijah so easily un-ruined it for me?

"Hey," I finally respond, moving to the couch to take a seat. "I, uh... got your texts."

"Oh, uh, yeah, I kinda figured..." his voice trails off, a laugh coming over the line seconds later, but it sounds a little awkward—nervous, even.

"Yeah, um," I pause, still not sure what to say. One thing's for sure, though, he needs to know he did nothing wrong. "You didn't need to apologize."

"Talking about you to Danny behind your back wasn't the smartest thing to do," he responds, nervous laughter following again.

I shrug my shoulders. "It's not like you had bad intentions. You told my friend what was going on and he came to me because he was worried."

I don't mean to mock Daniel, because I know he meant well, but both he and Noah are overreacting. It's my right to miss a few classes to avoid seeing someone after a breakup.

But is it your right to completely change... for the worse?

Damn my twin for so easily getting into my head.

"I guess," Elijah responds, voice growing lower as he continues. "But it would've been smarter to go to you directly."

I try focusing on what he's saying, but I'm still doubting myself and trying to shake off Noah's stupid words.

"We're friends, too," Elijah continues, voice still low.

"Yeah," I say in agreement, "we are."

And because we're friends, that means he knows me.

"Elijah, do you... um, do you think I've changed?"

"Changed?" he repeats, tone sounding confused. "What do you mean by that?"

"Like, um," I trail off once more, not really sure what I mean. "Nothing, never mind. It's just... stupid Noah saying something stupid. Forget it."

"Hm," he hums, going quiet once more. "Consider it forgotten."

I smile, then realize he can't see me. Suddenly, I realize how hard it is to communicate over the phone—especially when your head is so fuzzy from all the shit overcrowding it.

"Cool," I respond.

Elijah chuckles. "Yup, cool."

I laugh, too, then sigh heavily. "So, what're you doing?"

"Well, I'm trying to figure out how to ask if you're okay without making you mad that I'm asking."

"Oh," I comment. "Well, you did a fantastic job."

He laughs once more, and I do too, before stopping, realizing that even if he had just regularly asked the question, I wouldn't have gotten mad. At least, I don't think I would've. Because right now, I actually want to talk. I need to. And I want it to be with him.

"Do you think we could meet up right now?" I quickly realize the mistake of my question. "Shit, sorry, I forgot about your mom. Uh, could I come over? Oh my god, wait. That's so fucking intrusive. Sorry... again."

I bring my hand over my mouth, hoping that'll get me to shut the fuck up.

"Actually... I can meet up right now," Elijah says, voice as low as a whisper. "I'm kind of already out anyway, so I can just pick you up, if that's cool with you?"

"Uh... yeah, that's super cool with me," I answer, confused. "What about your mom though?"

Elijah sighs. "She's out, too."

"With you...?" I ask, feeling weird as hell if she's coming along. Sure, she was nice for the few minutes we saw each other, and had a calm aura around her as we silently sat and watched movies, but I don't wanna hang out with the woman. Shit, I don't even wanna be around my own mother. Though I don't doubt Veronica Valencia is one hundred times better at being a mom than mine, that doesn't make me wanna be with her. Not like this. I have a feeling this conversation's gonna be a little too sad for her to be around for.

"No, she's not with me... She's just out... As well... Not with me, though...."

"Um, Elijah..." I say in a questioning tone.

"She's on a date," he says in a dead tone.

"Oh," I comment, then, "Oh, uh, is this like her first one or...?"

"That I know of, yeah," he answers.

The line goes silent again. I'm not sure what to say.

"Well... good for her."

He hums in agreement, effectively ending that conversation. I get the sneaking suspicion he doesn't really agree though.

"I'm outside," he says after several minutes of silence.

I throw on my sneakers and head out the door, not bothering to tell Noah. Fuck that guy.

I quickly walk to the car, not realizing I'm still stupidly holding the phone to my ear until I slide into the passenger seat.

Elijah motions to the phone. "I hung up already, so..."

"Awkward," I say while dropping the phone into my lap.

I don't realize how late it really is until I see nothing but darkness, the only light being the overhead street ones and Elijah's eyes that seem to be shining.

"Hey," I say to break the new silence that's overcome us.

"Hey," he says, lightly chuckling after. "Nice pants."

I glance down, refraining from cringing at the sight of Spiderman's head staring up at me. How embarrassing. I bring my eyes to Elijah's face again. "Does it make me look less lame if I say they're my brother's?"

He visibly fights off a smile. "I guess it depends on which brother."

"We both know the better, and safer, option is Knox..." I make a face of disappointment. "But I'd be lying if I said they were his."

Elijah lets his smile surface. "Honestly, the better answer is that they're yours. Spiderman's cool."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah, it's that damn Peter Parker who's lame."

Elijah laughs, shaking his head slightly after. "You wanna sit around here or you had someplace in mind to go?"

The tight feeling in my chest briefly resurfaces. I tell myself it's because he's stopped the joking and turned this back into something serious. He asked if I was okay so we met up to talk, but, suddenly, I don't wanna talk about just me anymore.

"It's up to you. Wherever makes you feel more comfortable talking about this hot date your mom's on."

He narrows his eyes at me. "Really? You have to add in the word hot? Or bring up the word date at all?"

I let out a giggle. "Sorry. I didn't think date would bother you, seeing as that's the term for what she's on." He cringes, and it makes me let out another giggle. "Oh come on. How'd you react when she said it to you?"

"She didn't," he says while shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the curb.

"She didn't... tell you?"

"Nope," he answers, coming to a halt at the stop sign. "She doesn't even know that I know."

I take a second to process what he's saying. "How do you know she's definitely on a date then?"

"I followed her."

"You followed your mother? Okay, stalker. Why the hell did you do that?"

"She's been going out a lot lately and being really weird about it, so I followed her and saw some guy."

He talks casually, keeping his eyes firmly set on the road as he turns onto the highway. I face the windshield, furrowing my brows in thought. "Okay," I finally say. "How does that prove she's really on a date? He could just be a friend or it could be a business meeting or—"

"They kissed."

"Okay," I repeat, still mulling it over. Then, I sigh and turn to him, just as his eyes briefly glance toward me. "Yeah, I can't explain that one. It's a date. Kinda seems like it's not their first one."

"Yeah," he agrees, eyes back on the road.

It feels awkward again, probably because that just reinforces the idea that his mom's been sneaking around, rather than just talking to him.

"She must be hiding it to protect you from seeing her with someone other than your dad," I try reasoning. He's not saying it bothers him, but his silence fills in all the blanks I need.

And to be honest, if that's what his mother is doing, I don't blame her. I don't see anything completely wrong with it. Both of my parents are alive, and clearly have the worst relationship on the planet, but the thought of either of them with someone other than each other... I don't think I could handle that.

As much as I hate them together, I think I'd hate them apart even more.

"I never saw my parents together. I've never seen my mom with anyone," he says while moving to the lane furthest to the right, making me think he plans on exiting the highway soon. I don't even know where it is that he's taking us. "She doesn't need to hide this from me."

I shrug a shoulder, turning a little in my seat to watch him. "Maybe she feels like she does because she doesn't know how you'll react to it. I mean... you followed her out, Elijah. That's a little... extreme. That's some shit that I'd do, so that's definitely not a good thing."

His lips curl up into a smile, his eyes glancing toward me once more. "So, I pulled a Lyndon?"

"I don't like my name being used to describe doing something crazy, but, yeah, you definitely pulled a Lyndon."

He chuckles once more, before his face takes on a calm expression. "Honestly, though, she doesn't need to hide it from me. I feel fine knowing she's out with this guy. The smile on her face showed it all. She's happy, and that's all I want."

My eyes stayed trained on him, watching his face for any giveaway that he's just lying to cover his feelings or make himself look like a good guy. But all I see is truth, and honesty, and just how, well, good he is.

"Wow," I say without thinking, "you are so amazing."

Elijah turns to me, confusion on his face before a small smile takes over, and I see the slightest blush appear.

"I don't know if I agree with that," he tries denying, bringing his full attention back to the road as he slows down and exits the highway. "But thanks, I guess."

"And that response right there just showed it again," I say with a smile. "You're amazing."

He laughs, shaking his head to himself as he takes a turn into a neighborhood. The houses here are smaller and much home-lier looking than the ones in my neighborhood, or really, any of us Arlin Preparatory students' neighborhoods.

"This is where I used to live before... uh." He pauses to think over his next words. "Before I transferred to Arlin."

I'm assuming the actual sentence would've been before my dad died and we got enough money to move into that bougie ass neighborhood. But because Elijah's, well, Elijah, he changed it.

And, again, shows just how great he is.

The tightness in my chest returns as my eyes move from observing the houses to observing him. For the first time, it feels like I'm really seeing him. Not just his looks—which I've always known were way above average—but the actual him.

I see the person who's taken my mind off of every other bad thing in my life for the past half hour, and he didn't even need to try. We just laughed and relaxed, and those are two things I haven't been able to do in days. Maybe even weeks, months. Since I moved here, it seems.

I see the friend who's been there almost anytime I needed him, without knowing he was needed, and without me even realizing he was what I needed.

I see the son who puts his mother's happiness above his own, because he truly loves her, and she loves him, and that's the purest thing. It's something I don't have—that I'll never have with my own mother.

I see the boy who's kind, and caring, and so, so sweet.

He's everything good, and it's taken me too damn long to realize that good is what I need, it's what I should want. It is what I want.

It's Elijah.

The car suddenly stops, and I don't realize I've been staring at him for so long until his light brown eyes are in view.

"Everything's alright?" he asks, concern and confusion clear on his face.

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes. My head feels fuzzy, and so does my chest, and now, my own throat feels like it's tightening.

Everything is definitely not alright.

How could it be when my feelings for the boy in front of me were stupidly pushed aside for a boy who still has my whole heart, even if I don't want him too, even when he shouldn't?

"No," I say while shaking my head, ignoring the crack in my voice, "nothing is alright, Elijah."

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A / N:

So... I said I'd post two chapters, but I haven't finished the next one. I didn't want to hold onto this one any longer, because it's been too long since my last update. I promise to try having the next one up no later than Friday!

How are we feeling about this one, though? I said it'd be a little bit of a cliffhanger if I posted it alone, but this chapter is almost 8K words and a lot happens, so I really hope you enjoy it.

How are my Lynjah shippers feeling? I'm sure you can guess where next chapter might be heading... or maybe not. Who knows! We have about 3 or 4 chapters left, anything can happen!

I want to once again just say thank you for getting this story to (now) 106K reads. That's still insane to me. Also, thanks for everyone's feedback on my last post! I appreciate hearing from you all so much.

See you soon! Stay safe!