Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lavender Haze 
Cooper 

I’m sitting in my car plotting my escape route back inside. There are media trucks damn near swarming the entrance to Kris’s building and I have to assume they saw my car pull into the parking space outside. 

I always liked my Jeep but now I’m cursing myself for getting a car that’s so fucking recognizable. I should have gotten something like Luis’s beat up Honda. There’s a million and one cars on the road like that. 

I squint across to the entrance, bringing up a hand to shield my eyes from the flashing cameras that are beginning to turn my way.

Damn it. Caught.

If I’ve learnt anything over the past few months it’s that the only way out is through at this point. Even if it means another encounter with Liz from Channel Seven news who has taken entirely too much of a liking to me for my own comfort. 

I try to school my expression into something that looks a little less like a scowl. I may not be a murder suspect anymore, but I also don’t think that MLB teams are looking for players that can’t play nice with media. Besides, absolute neutrality is the best way to prevent my face becoming another Twitter trend. Last week someone made a meme of Nate flipping off some photographers and Addy has not stopped spamming the group chat with edited versions of it. I am not looking to meet the same fate. 

I don’t say anything to the cameras, ignoring their questions with a polite, detached smile as I make my way through the thick of people to the door. A girl I vaguely recognize as one of Kris’s neighbors gives me a dirty look as she pushes past to exit the building at the same time. I can’t blame her, really. It’s not every day your apartment building becomes a meeting ground for journalists salivating over a story. I allow myself a wry smile after she’s out of sight, though. If she thinks this is bad, she should see Nate and Addy’s houses. Now that’s a media circus. 

I finally push past the throes of people to the inside of the building, slamming the door definitively shut behind me. The reporters won’t follow me in, the landlord has already had several, increasingly angry conversations with them about that. I swipe my card to gain access to the elevators, riding it straight to the top as I crash against the side of the wall. I hang my head low, catching a glimpse of my own glittering eyes shattered in the crossing reflections of the elevator mirrors. I suck a deep breath in, hold, then release, just like that YouTube video I watched instructed. It loosens the knot in my chest only a little, just enough to get moving again when the door opens. 

This media cycle is so exhausting. It dies down occasionally but it rarely stops; especially in Bayview where, let’s face it, there’s not much else to talk about. 

It seems like every time there’s a lull in coverage, something new stirs it all up to a frenzy, reaching fever pitches it never did before. 

Simon’s death was the biggest news until it was Addy cheating, until that became our secrets, until I was outed, until Nate went to jail, until Kris figured everything out, until now with Jake’s trial. I didn’t even know there were this many news channels in our area. Let alone the “crime reporters” of Spotify and YouTube, who take themselves very seriously, and also tend to peddle wild conspiracy theories. Kris had to call the police on one the other day who got in somehow and spray painted “LIAR” across his door. That charming dude had hour-long videos dedicated to breaking down every reason Kris was wrong about Jake’s involvement. 

Sometimes I wish Eli had never given him the credit for solving everything. As much as he deserves it, it brought a whole new level of vitriol to his world. It feels like the entire world is invested in our relationship in some way. Like everyone has an opinion, that they feel the right to broadcast. I just want them out. I want to stand up on some platform and scream out that they don’t know us. They don’t see us on our own, don’t see the way we fit, how we work. They don’t understand. 

Of course that would be bordering on a psychotic public statement to make so I don’t, I can’t. 

But I think about it all the time.

I get to Kris’s door with some baffling mixture of exhaustion and anger. It all melts away when I see his face. He doesn’t let me in at first, cradling my face in his hands and pulling me in for a kiss. 

His kisses are life-altering, sometimes. I can feel my perspective shift, priorities clicking back into place with the trajectory. 

“Hi,” he whispers, pulling me in again for another soft brush of lips. 

I melt against him. “Hi.”

I almost forget everything when he lets me inside. He’s wearing one of his dark tops, the one that’s a tiny bit too small and hugs his biceps like cling wrap. It’s enough of a distraction for anyone, until my phone beeps with an alert.

It’s a news article, one of those DailyMail pieces that seems obsessed with tracking every tiny movement of my life, titled “Ex-Suspect Cooper Clay visits his Case-Cracking Boyfriend amid Jake Riordan's Trial”. I almost scream as I throw my phone as hard as I can at Kris’s couch.

He gives me an unimpressed look. “What did your phone ever do to you?” He asks lightly as he crosses the room to examine it. It doesn’t look cracked, though that’s the least of my worries right now.

I move to the window to see some photographers still milling around outside, and gesticulate to it with wild movements that make Kris push his lips together to stop himself from laughing. “Look at this!” I bemoan. “This is insane! How is visiting my boyfriend news? I mean, what else would I do with my time!”

Kris puts my phone down on the coffee table, understanding softens his features as he moves toward me.

“Every tiny thing I do is under a microscope, and everything you do is under one too!” I can feel the wave of anger morphing into something closer to frustrated tears and I swallow frantically to rid them. “I just want to stay here, with you. I just want it to be easy. Don’t you think we deserve easy?”

Kris’s hands find my shoulders as he guides my eyes away from his window. “Of course we do,” he says gently. 

“Have you heard some of the things people have been saying about you?” My voice catches as my mind spirals over all the horrific tweets I’ve seen. My own social media is on a hard lockdown, but it doesn’t stop other people from using theirs to spread their messaging. “What they’re saying about us?”

Kris shrugs, moving a stray piece of hair off my forehead. “I don’t listen, you know that.”

My eyes snap up from the floor to meet his. He’s steady, unbothered. It seems to good to be true. “Don’t you think it would be easier if…” I swallow hard. “If you weren’t with me.” 

My heart is thudding in my chest, ice cold panic in my veins as Kris frowns, considering.

Then he bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

“Why are you laughing at me right now?” My voice comes out incredibly indignant and it only makes him laugh more, wiping the tears that escaped from my cheek. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to, it’s just.” He cradles my face, smiling softly. “Oh, baby, this is ridiculous. Okay? In no world would I ever want to date anyone else.”

“But wouldn’t it be easier—“ 

“Shut up,” Kris murmurs, a small smile breaking across his face as he lifts his hands up to cradle my cheek. He presses into me until my back is flush with the window. I dig my hands into his hair and kiss him back furiously until we break for breath.

“I just think—“

“Cooper.” He brushes his nose against mine. “You just proved you aren’t very good at that.”

My offended noise gets lost in his next kiss. I lean against the window and let him take control until a thought occurs to me.

“Do you think they can see us?” I ask, referring to the photographers below.

“Do you care?” Kris responds evasively. 

I blink owlishly at him for a moment. Then, twin smiles spread across our faces. “No.” I pull him back against me. “I don’t. But this is ours, no one else gets to be here.”

Kris grins at me like I’ve solved a puzzle I didn’t even know I was working on. He tugs me close to him just long enough to send his blinds fluttering to the ground, cutting us off from world view. 

“This is ours,” he says like a promise. 

I wind my hand back into his hair, and he grins against my throat. I press my smile into his shoulder, content to just stay here, surrounded in the bubble of our own world; just us and our love. 

Chapter Text

Maroon 

Bronwyn 

It’s nearing midnight when my roommate’s breath finally evens out and I know she’s asleep. It’s only then that I feel brave enough to reach out and slowly open my bedside table drawer. I slide out my old prepaid phone and stare at its blank screen with bated breath, as if it were going to begin ringing out of sheer desperation. 

Logically, I know my roommate wouldn’t care, or even know, why I was staring at a beaten phone during the day, but it’s only when I’m truly alone that I feel bold enough to check it. 

There’s no new messages. Of course. There hasn’t been since Nate and I had that fight. I let out my breath in a slow, measured rush. I press the palm of my hand to my forehead as hard as I can, trying to abate the sting of tears in my eyes.

I can barely even remember what the fight was even about. It started as some flippant comment, then before I knew it, I was screaming at him down the line of the phone. We had barely seen each other, not talked for weeks in the hectic wash of our lives. It was like a horrifying realization; our lives no longer fit together. 

He hasn’t called since.

Maeve says that I’m being stubborn, that I should call him, and she might be right, but I wouldn’t even know what to say. Nate has always had a way of putting me off kilter, of taking everything I thought I knew and throwing it all away. It’s always been an infuriating trait of his, even if I did come to love the unexpected thrill he brought into my life. 

I hated it because it led to moments like these: questioning everything I thought I knew about us, about how we were meant to be together. 

I could call, but I wouldn’t know what to say. I don’t know how to fix this, how to find us again. Honestly, I’m too scared to try. No contact means that things can’t get worse. I don’t know what I would do if I called him and we couldn’t work it out. If it went from a break for now to a break forever.

He’s too impermeably entangled in my life to risk losing. Even miles away, I feel his absence like a physical ache. Months of daydreaming catches up to me now, when every song, every meal, hell, even every place reminds me of him so painfully, it pangs in my chest.

I glance down at the phone again, but it doesn’t change. Unforgiving darkness stares back at me. I thumb over the screen, the number I memorized like my own name flits through my head. My finger twitches over the number pad.

Across the room, my roommate shifts, muttering something to herself before falling back into their calm pattern of breaths.

I fling the phone back into the drawer, heart racing as if I were caught doing something I shouldn’t have. 

My breath takes a second to even back out as I roll over and shove my face into my pillow. I close my eyes tightly, ignoring the drop of salt that slips past my lips. 

My legs are in Nate’s lap, his hand on my thigh as he draws patterns higher and higher along the hem of my dress. I can barely hide my flush; Addy told me that Nate would love this dress when she finally dragged me shopping, and she was right. He’s barely lifted his eyes off my legs all evening. 

I reach across and tangle a hand into his hair. “What are you thinking about?” I ask him softly.

He smirks to himself. “Nothing you need to worry about, Rojas.”

I give him the flattest look I can manage. His eyes flash, cheeky smile climbing higher and wider until I finally give into my laughter.

I love seeing him like this; carefree, laughing on the floor of his apartment like nothing in the world matters outside of us. 

He leans back and takes another swing of the wine we took from his roommate, throat bobbing with his swallow. I follow the movement with my eyes and he smiles, pleased. He hands me the bottle and I take a delicate sip, letting the flavor run over me. I still don’t drink that often, but tonight is a special occasion. Nate only just moved into this new place, and we’re celebrating his newfound freedom.

By stealing his roommate’s wine.

Whoops.

I can’t bring myself to care, not really. Not when he looks like that. “I’m proud of you,” I tell him, and he shakes it off. “Hey. I’m serious. This is a big accomplishment. You know, we could’ve gone out with your friends, really celebrated.” 

Sometimes I feel the need to make a big deal out of everything that Nate achieves. As if enough attention now will make up for an entire childhood of neglect.

He gives me a look which can mean nothing other than seeing straight through me. “You are my best friend.”

Warmth floods me as I lean in and capture his lips in mine. When I pull back, some of my cherry colored gloss shines off his lips, almost crimson in the lowlight of his room. I lean across and wipe it off with my thumb. He wouldn’t appreciate being caught by one of his roommates with sparkly red lips, I don’t think.

He catches my wrist in his hands gently, twisting my thumb up to examine the trace of color on it. “Jeez,” he groans, when he realizes what it is. “What happened to your clear lip stuff?”

“That was chapstick,” I tell him matter of factly, reaching out to wipe off the remnants on one of the leftover napkins from our takeout. 

“Bring that back,” he says. 

I don’t look up, my cheeks red.

“What?” He asks softly, reaching out for me when he notices my sudden quiet. 

I focus on folding the napkin in half, trying to appear nonchalant. “I only bought the gloss because I thought you would like it.” When he doesn’t respond, I turn my chin up defensively. “Well, you spend a lot of time staring at my lips and you like red on me so I thought—“ My voice dies in my throat when I finally catch the expression on his face.

He’s looking at me with the kind of open affection that feels like a gunshot to the chest. He reaches across and tucks the front strands which have escaped from my ponytail behind my ear. “I like it,” he says, gravely. “Red does look good on you.” He laughs and taps his finger against the flooding scarlet of my cheeks at his words. “Told you.” 

I can still feel the ghost of his fingers on my cheek when I bolt upright in my bed. For a second, his dark eyes sparkle over top of me in the black night. Then I blink and he’s gone.

I scramble at the drawer, pulling out both my phones. I put them face up next to my pillow, close enough for even just the vibration to wake me.

Just in case.

Chapter Text

Anti-Hero

Cooper

It’s so dark in Kris’s bedroom that the sliver of light cast by the moon peeking through the blinds barely highlights anything. I’m sitting up with my back braces against the wall, trying not to move too much. Kris has been asleep for hours, while I’ve been staring at the door as it slowly fades into darkness. 

It’s on nights like these, when my brain goes into overdrive, when the hollowness in my chest feels like someone has carved straight into me, that I swear I can feel judging eyes peering back at me from the pitch black. My mind catches on some loop, replaying every terrible thing I’ve ever done, every person I’ve hurt. 

“Coop?” Kris’s bleary voice interrupts my thoughts, his hand reaching up from the bed to rub my back in the darkness. “Everything okay?” 

I nod, trying to unstick my throat. “Yeah,” I tell him roughly. “Go back to sleep.”

The bed shifts as Kris sits up. He tucks his head into the crook between my neck and shoulder, his eyelashes fluttering across my bare skin as he blinks himself awake. “Why are you still up?” he asks.

“Sorry,” I tell him, shifting to wrap my arm around his shoulders. 

He breathes into my neck for a moment before seemingly realizing that I haven’t answered his question. He leans away, then flicks the lamp and sends light flooding into the room.

His hair is all over the place, eyes exhausted but focused. “What’s wrong?”

I shake my head, dragging my hand across my face. “Ugh.”

Kris moves toward me again, this time twisting so we’re facing one another. “You can’t sleep.” It’s not a question. This happens a lot.

“Yeah,” I exhale anyway. 

He lifts a hand to brush my hair away, watching me closely as if the solution to my problems is going to appear written on my face. He doesn’t say anything as he wraps his arms around me, curling himself around my back as he adjusts us on the bed. “You’re not going to be able to if you’re sitting up,” he says, burrowing his head into the back of my neck.

I grip onto his hands where they meet at my chest like a lifeline. 

The room is empty: barren and cold. I pull down the sleeves of my hoodie and rub over my arms to rid myself of the goosebumps that appear there. 

“Hello?” I call out, but it is only the echo of my voice which greets me. I twist in a slow circle until a flash of dark hair catches my attention. A shark-like grin gleams out of the darkness.

“Golden boy.” Simon’s sarcastic drawl sends a shiver down my spine. “Good to see you again.” He’s relaxing against what I quickly recognize to be one of the school desks. He runs his finger along the rim of an empty glass, watching me carefully. “What? Nothing to say?”

My mouth opens but no matter how hard I try, no sound comes out. 

“That’s fine.” He pushes himself up from the desk. “I’ll talk. You’re not much of a confrontation guy, are you? Rather just sneak around and exclude people, yeah, that’s more your style.”

He crosses the emptiness to approach me. 

“How’s pretending you’re not the problem working out for you? Letting the whole world see you as such a good guy. But we know the real truth, don’t we, Coop?”

I twist away from him, stumbling back when my chest makes a heavy collision with someone else’s. I’m blinking back tears looking into my father’s eyes.

“Nothing but a disappointment,” he says coolly. “After all our sacrifices, you just can’t do anything right.”

I slam my hands over my ears, turning away again. Simon is gone, and so is the classroom. Instead, I’m in the middle of Keely’s living room. She’s on the couch, sobbing with her head in her hands.

“How could you do this to me?” Keely wails. “I did nothing but support you! I was so good to you! You never even loved me.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and her head snaps up, eyes furious.

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything, Cooper.”

I’m about to get down on the sofa, try to comfort her in some way, when I hear my names called out from behind me in a voice I could recognize anywhere.

“Kris,” I sob in relief, reaching out for him. He takes a step backward and I stumble into the emptiness. “What—?”

When I look up, his gaze is cold and serious. He looks over me with absolute disgust.

“Kris?”

My scream pierces the quiet. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Kris’s hands are frantic in sliding over my chest. “It’s okay!”

I’m sat bolt upright in bed again, heaving breaths as I clamber to try and grab him back. We finally entwine our hands and I drop my head into his shoulder. He rubs his spare hand over my back, presses a kiss to my hair. 

“Cooper.” His voice is wrecked. “You need to tell me what is going on.” 

When I finally find the courage to speak, my voice is hoarse and terrified. “I don’t want you to leave me. Nothing will mean anything if you leave me.”

Kris leans away and I try to follow him. He stops me, framing my face and forcing me to look at him. “Why would I ever leave you?”

It’s like a dam breaks. My head drops in between his palms. “Why wouldn’t you? After everything I’ve done, to Keely, to my dad, to Simon, to you.”

Kris is still staring at me, baffled. He shakes his head slowly. “Cooper, you haven’t done anything.” His voice is breaking with fear. 

I reach out and twist a hand in the back of his shirt. It’s not logical, I know that, but there’s some part of my brain that’s screaming out that if I tell him everything in one go, he will realize. He’ll figure out that I’m the problem. I’m the common denominator. And then he’ll leave me. 

If he’s going to do that, then I at least want one more moment in his arms before everything falls apart.

He takes me into his embrace steadily, completely unwavering as he draws me in and kisses everywhere he can reach.

“I had a dream,” I confess quietly. “I keep having it.”

He doesn’t say anything, waits for me to gather my thoughts. 

“It’s—Well, it’s like this: I’m standing in a room all alone, and then I turn around and Simon’s there. He tells me that it’s all my fault.” I swallow around a sob. “Then Keely, she yells at me for what I did. My dad tells me that he’s disappointed in me, and you…”

Kris’s grip tightens. “What, baby?”

“You tell me that you’re tired of me. You can’t deal with me anymore. I’m more trouble than I’m worth. And then you leave me alone in the room.”

Kris has been shaking his head from the first sentence. “No,” he says firmly. “That’s not true. It’s just a dream, Cooper, I promise you.”

“But you’re right,” I say, hopelessly.

He pulls back to stare at me. “That’s not me. It’s your subconscious being awful to you. You’re traumatized, baby. You had an entire news cycle dedicated to making you feel like the worst person in the world. That doesn’t make it true, and it certainly doesn’t mean I believe it.” His hands find my shoulders. “I love you because you are the kindest, most generous, funny, talented and loving man I know. Nothing your brain says to you changes any of that. None of your mistakes change that. It doesn’t change how I feel about you, and I love you, okay?”

I swallow back the lump in my throat. “I love you, too.”

He smiles at me, barely visible in the rising morning light. “Can you go back to sleep, do you think?”

The very idea makes my heart pound in my chest. “Yeah,” I lie, thickly, because I’ve kept him up all night and he desperately needs it. “Yeah, I can.”

Kris shakes his head at me, amused, then throws off the covers and stands up.

“What are you doing?” I ask him.

“Please, you think I don’t know when you’re lying to me?” He laughs, holding a hand out to pull me out of bed, too. “I’m making coffee. We can start that new show that Luis recommended.”

I stare at him for a moment but he doesn’t waver. Once it’s obvious that he isn’t going to change his mind, I pull the covers off myself. My hand is still shaking. I could cry, just thinking about how lucky I am to have him. How he sees right through me, knows exactly what I need, and doesn’t ever begrudge me of it. Instead, I tug him in for a deep kiss. “I love you so much.”

He traces his finger down my nose. “Love you too, angel. Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Snow on the Beach

Phoebe 

Knox’s grip is loose in mine as he leads me down the stairs of my apartment. I close my front door and double, then triple lock, knowing my mom will slide the chain in after I leave. 

We can’t afford to be lax on security anymore. Not since the media has picked up on the Emma story. The influx of hate mail, and even some people turning up to our door, has not only been unmanageable but also terrifying to my poor mother who is still barely keeping everything together. 

Emma and I don’t really speak, apart from our conversation about Owen’s involvement, swearing each other to secrecy. But even without talking to her, I know she’s equally as scared. It’s been hard, having everyone dig into all the aspects of my life. There’s some people trying to frame her, and us, as sympathetic and then there’s the people who think she deserves to be in prison the rest of her life despite not actually being involved in any of the horrible things that happened. 

Even just thinking about it makes me dizzy sometimes. 

Knox squeezes my hand. “Everything okay?”

I become suddenly and painfully aware that he’s been talking to me the entire time, and shake my head to clear myself of my thoughts. “Yeah, yes, sorry.”

He smiles, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ears. “That’s okay,” he says softly.

I feel the tightness in my chest dislodge and I offer him up a more sincere smile, wrapping my arm around his to pull us close. “So, what are your plans then?”

Knox has been very secretive about this whole thing. It took a while before I felt settled enough to let him actually take me on a real date, something that wasn’t DoorDash and a bad movie in my apartment. He has not told me a single thing we’ll be doing tonight, answering with an uncharacteristically sly smile whenever I ask any questions.

“Will you finally tell me where we’re going?”

He frowns at me. “Phoebe, I did not get this far of secrecy to break it all now.” He heaves a dramatic sigh. “Besides, I already explained the whole thing five separate times to my sisters who seem incapable of texting at the same time, and I can’t do it again.”

I huff out a little laugh. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Just trust me, okay?”

I look up at him through the corner of my eye, his bright grin so dazzling I almost have to look away. “Okay.”

I have to hand it to Knox. He can definitely plan a date. I almost have a weird urge to text Maeve and ask her if he was good at that when they were dating, but I’m not really sure they ever even dated properly. They don’t talk about it, at any rate.

Besides, if I’m honest, it’s a nice thought that maybe he’s only good at planning dates for me.

Our first stop was a sushi restaurant—my favorite, made better only by the fact that Knox clearly hates seafood and was almost gagging trying to force himself to eat it. It made me laugh so much that I almost spat up my drink, which made him laugh. It was a very vicious circle kind of moment. 

The warm weather means it is perfect strolling weather, and we have indulged in it as we’re moving to our next secret destination. 

He’s so calm and relaxed in a way I don’t get to see from him often. Less sweaty palms and awkwardness, and more of his wonderful, geeky joy. He’s carefree in a way I can only ever hope to be. He doesn’t seem to care what anyone thinks of him.

I know that’s not true, I know it intimately. 

But I can’t help but feel a wash of pride at this new, confident side to Knox. 

I glance up at him as he’s talking, lit up like a blanket of stars over a dark night. In a rush, the contentment slams into my chest. I haven’t thought about any of the awful things going on in my life for the past few hours; it’s the longest I’ve gone since everything went down. 

I stop dead in my tracks, and Knox pulls up next to me, skidding a little awkwardly as our entwined hands stay his motion. 

“Phoebe?” 

To my horror, my eyes begin to water. He tilts my face toward him, looking panicked.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

My chest is restricted and I heave in a breath. The fear of losing him feels suddenly like an ice cold grip around my heart. 

“Nothing. Nothing, I just…Can this be a real thing?” I ask him. 

He frowns, brushing away one of my tears. “Phoebe, this is real.”

I shake my head, unable to explain the rush of emotions tangled in my chest. “This all feels so…impossible. My life is so complicated at the moment, and you make everything so easy. It’s like I can breathe when I’m with you and I don’t…I don’t know how to trust it.”

He pauses, considering this for a second. “You just,” he shrugs. “You just do.”

I blink up at him wetly, and he smiles at me. 

“You just trust it. It’s the only thing you can do. I’ve been waiting a while for you, Phoebe Lawton. I’m not going anywhere.”

I beam at him. “Okay. I can trust it.”

He buries a kiss in the crown of my hair. “Good, because I still have to take you to dessert.”

“Dessert?” I ask him and he finally cracks into a real, honest smile.

“Well, I figured we started with a slice of cake, so…” We pull to a stop in front of a tiny bakery, pink shelves lined with adorable little cakes. In the window, my eyes immediately catch on a slice of something that looks almost identical to the piece that Knox brought to me on the roof that day. My heart bends at the gesture. I take his hand solidly in mine.

“Lead the way Mr Myers.” 

Chapter Text

You’re on Your Own Kid

Addy

The feeling of wind whipping through my short hair never gets old. I’m tearing down the main street of Bayview, passing the strips of cafes and local stores. I stopped in at a bakery earlier to get some cakes for Ashton and me; she usually cooks us dinner so I like to try and bring some dessert. They’re carefully tucked into the front basket, though I’m starting to think they’re probably getting pretty shaken up.

My bike is old enough that the front wheel rattles when I go this fast. It stresses Cooper out so much that he begged me to fix it, then begged Nate, who promptly tightened it, only for it to loosen again a few weeks later.

Cooper swears it’s going to give him an aneurysm. I think he’s just worried Kris is going to get sick of patching me up every time I fall off.

I’m too busy thinking to realize that the rattle of my front wheel is getting progressively louder. My bike gives one last wobble then teeters off course, sending me careening into the nearby bushes as my wheel pops off. I tuck my arms in and roll with the kind of practice that only comes from far too many falling incidents before. At least the dirt is more forgiving than the ground on the track at school. 

I blink up into the sky, shrouded by shrubbery, and wheeze out a breath from my winded lungs.

“Ow.”

I push myself up, feeling a concerning twinge in my wrist as I do so, and reach back to pluck a stray leaf from my hair.

“Addy?”

I’ve never wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole more. I slowly bring my eyes back around to the street, face to face with Olivia. Then next to her: Vanessa. Behind them, basically all of the people I used to spend all of my time with.

Correction: now I’ve never wanted the ground to open up and swallow me more. 

“Oh, hey guys.” I pick another stick out of my hair. “What’s up?”

Vanessa looks me up and down slowly as if she’s imagining that she could melt me with her mind. “Have a little fall?”

Her voice is just as grating as ever and I plaster on a fake smile. “Nothing too serious.”

“You alright, Ads?” TJ pipes up from the back of the group and I scratch at the back of my neck awkwardly. 

I’m still not sure how to feel about TJ. I feel dreadful that he got dragged into this whole mess, but after Jake’s arrest he was folded back into the group with no hesitation. I suppose I shouldn’t judge, maybe if I didn’t have Bronwyn, Nate and Cooper, I would have done the same. Still, it’s strange to see him with the people who made my life—and his life—hell. I feel like I’m staring across entire stretches of a life just looking at him.

I blink hard, pushing away the thoughts. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Vanessa tosses her hair as she turns around to give him a look. “She already said that.”

TJ does not shrink away at her stare, but he doesn’t protest either, despite the fact that I hadn’t said that at all. 

Vanessa steps over into the bush, and I instinctively lean back to give her space. I hate that I still do that. She picks her way across to my bike, grabbing the cupcakes in the front.

“Cute,” she simpers. “Going on a little date somewhere?”

The rest of the group laughs uncomfortably and something in my chest unlocks, loosens into my bones and then settles. It’s a feeling I’m beginning to become familiar with: I don’t need to talk to you. 

I tilt my head to the side, locking eyes with Olivia. “The joke wasn’t funny.”

She knows this. All of them do. They shift guiltily from leg to leg but say nothing. They can’t; Vanessa runs a tight ship, she always has. The only person who could ever shut her up was Jake and he’s gone now. Anyone who wants to stay at the top, listens to her, does what she says.

I don’t want to stay at the top.

It’s a wonderful relief to have this power. To say whatever I want to say, be completely honest at all times. I don’t have to contort myself into someone these people would like, I don’t need them at all. I’m finally, finally okay with being on my own. 

“I’m going home now.” I take the box of cupcakes from Vanessa’s shell-shocked hands.

“Your bike is broken,” she points out, delicately kicking at the front wheel.

“I could drive you home,” TJ adds, hesitantly glancing at Vanessa.

“I got it, thanks.” 

“How are you possibly going to get all the way back home?” Olivia scoffs. “Your house is like, a 20 minute walk away.”

“I don’t live there anymore.” There’s a quiet triumph in my chest. I want to jump and scream: see! You don’t know me at all anymore! But I don’t. It’s not worth it. 

“Let me help you,” TJ says softly. He reaches out for my wrist, but instead comes into contact with the tattered friendship bracelets that I have officially bullied Bronwyn, Nate and Cooper into wearing. I pull back, cradling them to my chest. They’re a reminder: there’s something real out there for me and it isn’t this.

“I’m good,” I say firmly.

There’s a chorus of shrugs from the group, and with one last lingering look, TJ allows himself to be tugged away by Vanessa’s prying hands.

When I know they’re gone, I turn back to my bike, gently putting the cupcakes back on the ground. I pull out my phone, but as I had suspected, given that I decided to take the longest way home, it has already died.

I glance back at the bike, despondent. I’ve never fixed it alone before, usually Nate helps, or sometimes Cooper or Ashton. Once, even Eli and I spent about twenty minutes trying to figure it out. I dig my hands into the dirt until I come into contact with the smooth, shiny edge of the loosened nut. I grip my fist around it, then continue until I find the bolt. 

Luckily, the wrench that Nate made me swear to keep in my bike’s basket in case of emergency did not fly out in the crash. I pull it out with a flash of triumph, assessing the three pieces now in my hand.

Slowly, I realign the wheel with the front bracket, sliding the bolt and nut into place. After slipping a few times, I push back my hair determinedly and crank the wrench until the nut is twisted into submission. 

I give the wheel a soft push, and then when it doesn’t move, a firmer one. The bolt holds steady, and I tuck the wrench back into my basket, carefully placing the cupcakes back on top. 

I swing my leg over my bike, and bending over the handlebars as the rush of pride breaks through my body. 

I did it.

Me.

I toss a glance over my shoulder, but my old friends are long gone. A few years ago, this town was all that mattered to me; these people, the popularity, being Jake’s girlfriend, being Homecoming Queen. They were the single most important things in my life. Now it feels like nothing. I’ve burnt the remnants of the person I used to be, but I’m so much stronger now.

I can do it on my own.

I wheel my bike out of the bushes and start back down the street.

The sunshine on my face feels like freedom. 

Chapter Text

Midnight Rain

Bronwyn 

Evan’s earnest face is staring from the table next to me and I burrow my own even deeper into my book in response until Maeve sighs.

“You have to do something eventually,” she says with an air of certainty that I do not appreciate.

“Not exactly,” I argue, even though I know doing nothing would be awfully mean.

Maeve doesn’t call me out on this, but she does take a very knowing bite of her burrito. 

I put my book down. “I mean, really,” I hiss at her. “I never said we were dating.”

Maeve says nothing.

“Sure, we went on a few dates, and yes, he came over one time for dinner, but that doesn’t automatically mean dating.” 

Maeve takes another bite.

“Well, okay, so Nate and I did less than even that, and I suppose I thought we were dating, even if he clearly had other ideas. And Evan did think that I had a crush on him—I did have a crush on him, but that was ages ago, and I guess if you thought someone had a crush on you and then they went out on dates with you, and took you home for dinner then maybe I can understand that you might think you’re dating that person.”

Maeve has now put down her burrito to stare at me blankly. 

“Oh my God, I’m Evan Neiman’s girlfriend, aren’t I?”

She sighs heavily. “Honestly, Bronwyn, you’re supposed to be smarter than me.” She takes a few more bites, then scrunches up the packaging on her finished meal. 

I chew on my lip, finding the spot where I’ve torn away skin, soft and stinging under the press of my teeth. “Okay,” I tell her softly. “You’re right. I have to do something.”

“Good luck with that,” she says, vacating her seat. I’m about to ask her where she’s going when I look up and see Evan taking her place. 

“Hey,” he says, pushing my book aside and reaching out for my hands. I give one to him reluctantly. “How have you been? I called you last night.” There’s an accusatory note to his voice that makes me flinch.

“Yeah, sorry.” I extract my hand, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I meant to call you back.”

“That’s okay, Bron,” he says, earnestly. “I was calling to invite you to the art gallery this weekend in San Diego. They have an exhibit that I think you’ll love.”

I blink at him. It’s so thoughtful and kind of him; it should stir up some emotion in me, some level of appreciation or endearment, but it just doesn’t. It’s nice, but it’s not anything more. “Evan…”

He catches on to my tone. He’s a smart guy after all. “We don’t have to,” he says. “I mean, if you don’t feel like it, we could always do something else.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

I pause, eyes roaming his face. It seems so strange, only a few months ago I would have done anything to be sitting here. If you would have told me that Evan Neiman was going to plan a date to an art exhibition just for me, I would have been so excited. He was everything I wanted: the perfect, smart, small-town-charm boy. Now, I feel nothing. I am not the same person I was a few months ago; everything about me has changed. I don’t care about the same things, school seems less important now that I’ve experienced being accused of murder, friendships seem fragiler, life seems faster. It was awful, but it was also exciting. I was in control of my own life, I was making the shots. It was terrifying, but it made me grow up much faster than the past eighteen years combined. 

I realized more about myself: I don’t belong here anymore. Bayview isn’t enough. 

Evan didn’t want to know me when the entire Simon situation unfolded. He didn’t want to break from that comfort, that bubble of his perfect life. I was a threat to all of it, I couldn’t be his picture-perfect girlfriend so he didn’t want me. It wasn’t until everything was over that he was interested again. I never thought about what that really meant until now.

I can see it all now; a future with him. Like clean, sharp linen: perfect, sterilized, bland. We would go to the same college, he would become an accountant, I’d get my degree in literature. We’d buy some house near the block our parents live on, probably have children and live a small-town life.

I don’t want that.

Not anymore at least.

I want to go to law school, I want to be important. I want people to know my name. I want excitement, I want something fresh and new that makes life feel like it’s flying a million miles an hour. I think of Nate like a flash of lightning splitting through my chest and the feeling shocks me back to consciousness.

Evan’s staring at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Bronwyn?”

“Sorry.” I shake out my hair, reaching beneath my glasses to pinch at the bridge of my nose. “Sorry, Evan. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He laughs. “You just zoned out for a second.”

“No.” I reach across to touch his arm. “No, Evan. I’m sorry. I’m not—I can’t do this anymore, okay?”

He frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t be your girlfriend. ”

His expression turns stony. “This is about Nate, isn’t it? Because honestly, Bronwyn, you should know by now. He’s no good for you! We’re much better suited. What’s he going to do for the rest of his life? Where is he going to be? You’re too good for that.”

I snatch back my hand. “This is not about Nate. I can have feelings that don’t concern him, you know? But for the record, I am not too good for him. You don’t even know him. There are other things in life besides being good at academics.” There’s a long, stilted pause where we glare at each other across the table until I finally sigh. “That’s not the point. Look, Evan, the truth is that I’m not the same person I was before all of this.”

“Before Nate, you mean,” he says bitterly.

My sigh comes out far more irritated this time. “No, that’s not what I meant. Everything that happened, it changed me, okay? All of me. Dating you, it’s like trying to go back to the way things were before, but it’ll never be like that again. It can’t be. I’m sorry.” 

He blinks at me. 

“This is the right thing,” I reassure him. “You’ll find someone who is right for you, who wants the same things you do. We’ll all get what we need.”

His eyes shift somewhere to the left of me. “Okay, Bronwyn.” He sounds defeated. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is.” My voice comes out far more sure than I am. 

He pushes himself up from the table. “Alright. I guess, bye then.” He takes only two steps before he turns back. “If you change your mind…”

“Bye, Evan,” I choke out. I’m embarrassed at the tears that are stinging in my eyes as I watch him walk away, but they’re not for him, really. It’s one more piece of my life that I’m missing. One more part of me that is irrevocably changed, another thing stolen from me by the ghost of Simon’s memory. Another fork in the road to haunt me. 

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Addy, asking if I want to hang out. Nate is almost sure to be there.

I find the right page, then slide my bookmark into its new place and stand up from the booth. 

Chapter Text

Question…?

Maeve 

Luis shifts in the chair next to me and my eyes are drawn to him automatically. It’s been a long night, between police statements and waiting at Nate’s bedside, the whole group is beginning to wane.

Addy went home with Ashton a while ago, comforting her sister who was understandably fairly distraught at the idea that someone tried to murder her fiancé. Bronwyn, my parents and Nate’s mom haven’t left Nate’s side, Knox’s dad came to collect him earlier, Phoebe hasn’t left her sister’s room since she went back, and Cooper is curled up asleep in Kris’s lap in the seats across from us, who is very carefully brushing his hands through Cooper’s hair. Which means that Luis and I are the only ones who are really awake out here. 

“You okay?” Luis asks, brushing a loose bit of hair from my face.

“Yes.” I shrug, frowning. “No. I don’t know.”

Luis’s face crumples in concern. “Maeve. I’m sorry, I don’t know—“ He pauses, struggling to find the correct words.

“Can I ask you a question?” I interrupt him. 

“Yes,” he says instantly. 

I glance across to Kris and Cooper. They don’t look like they’re listening, but I don’t take the chance. I grab Luis’s hand. “Not here,” I tell him, purpling him further down the hall until we find a secluded corner. 

“Maeve, what’s wrong?” he asks, looking increasingly concerned as he takes a seat by my side.

It is rapidly occurring to me that this is probably wildly inappropriate circumstances to have this conversation in, but I can’t stand it any longer. If everything else in my life is going to be off-kilter, then I need to grasp a hold of the one thing I can control with both hands and not let go. I can’t sit there by Luis’s side without knowing where we are, where we’re going. So much has happened: in his life, in mine. I have so many questions that I need answers to. “We need to talk.”

He goes pale almost instantly, but to his credit, he only swallows firmly, then calmly asks, “About what?”

My hands flutter uselessly in the space between us. I’ve never been good at expressing my emotions, not until it all bubbles over and becomes entirely too intense to keep in. Luis makes me feel the way no one else ever has: like my entire chest cracks open to let the sunlight in.

“This. Us.”

“Oh,” he says, rather succinctly. 

“I mean, don’t you feel like you just need some explanations?”

Luis sighs. “Honestly, Maeve. I don’t know. You’re so hot and cold with me sometimes.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

He shrugs. “What is it, then?” He asks, not unkindly. “What do you need to know.”

“Why me?” I ask hopelessly. It’s the thought that’s been rattling around in my head for days, much to my own annoyance. There’s no reason for someone like Luis to be interested in me. I’m nothing like Keely, or Olivia, or any of the other girls he’s ever dated. I still can’t figure out what the joke is. 

Luis looks flummoxed. “Maeve. It’s always been you.”

I can’t help my scoff. “Luis, come on. I’ve personally seen you go through at least three other girls.”

He shakes his head, but he’s red faced and shamed by my words. There’s a pinprick of guilt in my chest but I’m not being untruthful. It’s not my job to protect him if he is going to lie to me. 

“They’re not like you,” he says, finally. I pull a face and he hastens to correct himself. “Not like that, I just mean, I didn’t feel the same way about them as I do about you. You make me laugh, Maeve. You’re brilliant and fiercely loyal, and you always do the right thing. I’ve had a crush on you since spring of my senior year.”

I frown. “So why didn’t you do anything then?”

“I just…I realized too late.” He sighs. “I had a reputation, and I didn’t want you to think that you were just the next girl for me.”

“I wouldn’t have thought that,” I say automatically and he fixes me with a disbelieving look. 

“You literally did think that, remember? At Cooper’s game?”

I bite my lip. “But that day, at Cooper’s game, you were flirting with Monica Hill.” Now that I’ve said it aloud, it sounds far more petulant than I would ever care to admit. 

He lets out a huff of laughter. “I wasn’t flirting with her, Maeve. I was trying to get Sean’s phone for Knox, that’s it. I haven’t flirted with anyone else since you kissed me. You’re like…a meteor strike, or something, okay? You blew up my whole world. Everyone else seems so irrelevant after you.” He’s so sincere, almost ruefully resigned to the truth of his words. 

“I know I made things hard on you,” I whisper. “This whole thing.” I gesture between us. “It’s been nothing but miscommunications.” 

He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault. I wish I put up more of a fight. I just let you walk away, after you kissed me, I should’ve done more.”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” I tell him honestly. I drop my eyes to where my hands are picking at the skin around my nails. “I have a habit of pushing people away, I guess.”

He covers my hands with his, gently tugging my hands away from each other to stop me from unleashing any more carnage. “Well, I won’t be pushed.”

I laugh, but when I look back up, he’s deadly serious.

“You can run away, you can ignore me, but as long as you still want me, I’ll be here waiting for you.” Then he cracks that cheeky grin that leaves my stomach twisting every time. “Well, probably not here specifically because that would be weird, but I’ll be around.”

I blink hard and fast as the reality settles into my skin. I actually believe him. I open my mouth but no sound comes out. 

He curls his hand around my ear and jaw, drawing us closer together. “I don’t remember who I was before you,” he says. “I don’t want to.”

My throat unsticks just enough for me to croak out, “Me either.”

“Okay,” he says, as if that settles it. “So we’re in this for the long run then.”

The laughter bubbles up in my chest, giddy and childlike. “I guess you’re stuck with me.”

He captures my lips in a sweet kiss that leaves me breathless. “Guess so.”

He brings his hand up to thread through my hair, tugging me in closer for another kiss.

“Hey lovebirds.” Cooper’s amused drawl breaks us apart, my face instantly flushing. “Been lookin’ for you two.”

For a second, my stomach plummets. I blink past Luis to look at him, but he doesn’t seem concerned. “Everything okay?”

He seems to realize the implications of his words, given the hospital setting, and quickly backtracks. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s just fine. Bronwyn’s just looking for you, Maeve, that’s all.” 

“I should go then.” I’m reluctant to disentangle from Luis, but she’s had a hell of a night and I should be by her side.

Luis reels me in for one more kiss until I’m breathless and a little woozy with it, but ultimately lets me stand. Cooper squeezes my shoulder gently as I pass; the sort of camaraderie we’ve all developed from being at the center of something so deeply messed up. I put my hand on top of his for a second, squeezing tightly. Then I brush past to the exit. 

I’m almost the whole way down the hall when Cooper’s little laugh makes me turn back around. Glancing over my shoulder surreptitiously, I spot Luis and Cooper laughing and jostling one another like little kids. Their faces are split open in twin, giddy smiles. I press my own smile down and turn back around. 

He’s going to be there tomorrow, and every day after that. After all, he promised me.

For once, I believe him. 

Chapter Text

Vigilante Shit 

Addy

The new blazer that Ashton bought me is itchy. My skin is crawling with discomfort as I tug down at the hem once more to try and straighten out the creases.

“Try not to worry.” Bronwyn is trying to be soothing but it’s the least helpful sentence in the world. She looks very prim and proper in the boardroom of Eli’s office and I’m once again struck with the thought of how woefully underprepared I am for all of this. I am possibly the least appropriate person to do this. Even the prosecutor wrinkled his nose at my pink hair. 

“We’ll be in the courtroom the whole time,” Nate says, stretching out his shoulder as he picks at some of the uneaten food in the middle of the table. In his ratty shirt and leather jacket, he is a comforting reminder that I am not the least appropriate person to be on the stand. 

“It’s not so bad,” Cooper promises from next to him. He too manages to look very professional in his clean shirt and slacks. On the stand yesterday, he sounded every bit an athlete answering post-game questions: cool, collected and detached. The prosecutor loves him, his trustworthy face makes him the perfect person to put in front of a jury. “Jake’s lawyer is a dick, but it’s over before you know it.”

I eye him warily. A “dick” is understating it by quite a bit, and by the twin looks of disdain on Maeve and Kris’s faces, they agree with me too. Jake’s lawyer has played dirty this whole trial. Eli has been infuriated sitting through it, muttering about professionalism and legal integrity. He stopped coming a few days ago, though both he and Ashton will be there today for my testimony. 

I wasn’t that nervous until yesterday. Jake’s lawyer tore Cooper apart on the stand, and he is far more composed than I am. I worry I might cry or something. 

Both Eli and the prosecuting lawyer say that would be fine, that it would show the jury that I’m real and vulnerable and make them more likely to trust me. I don’t really care about that, though. I don’t want to cry in front of Jake. I refuse to give him that satisfaction.

My phone flashes with a text from Ashton telling me that it’s time to go. I do a round of goodbyes, letting them all squeeze me tightly.

I shove my face into the worn leather of Nate’s jacket and he bends down to murmur in my ear. “Give him hell, Ads.”

I pull back and smile at him.

That I can do.

The tiled wall just outside the courtroom glistens so much that I can see my own reflection. The itchy blazer is stark black against my pink hair, all sharp angles. Suddenly, I see what Ashton was saying when we bought it. I look important, professional. I look powerful. 

“Adelaide Prentiss? They’re ready for you.”

The large wooden doors to the courtroom look less intimidating than before. I push back a stray piece of hair from my face and stand, letting the clerk guide me into position. 

It’s a long walk to the witness stand with everyone’s eyes on me. It’s the biggest trial in our area in a long time, and the packed courthouse demonstrates it. I cross the separator between the gallery and the court, catching sight of Jake for the first time. My stomach twists as usual at his bored, detached expression. This time, though, I don’t look away. I maintain eye contact, head high until something in his expression twitches and he breaks away first. 

I head to the stand with my head high, swearing the oath and sliding into my seat. I immediately glance back over to Jake. He’s not looking at me, scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. I stare at him until he looks up. It’s funny how really knowing someone can change how you see them. He’s always been the most beautiful boy in the world to me, but now his eyes look cold and detached. I can see straight through his facade to the bitterness lying beneath. 

The prosecution opens my questioning. They’re all softballs, basically prompting me just to walk through what happened. I try to stay calm and report on everything to the best of my memory. I practiced these answers with Bronwyn and Cooper the other day; though Coop didn’t stay long. He and I are on the same page about this whole process, feeling deeply violated by how much we let this psychopath into our lives. Bronwyn’s a lot more detached from the whole thing, it makes it easier to practice with her. She just wants Jake to go to jail, and while Cooper and I both know that he’s not the guy we thought he was, we can’t help but have slightly more complicated feelings about the whole thing. Even knowing what he is, it doesn’t erase years of memories. 

I tell the prosecution about the café, Kris working out the whole scheme and how we decided to go to Janae’s to ask more questions. It’s the same story that Cooper told yesterday, but the prosecution says it’s important that we corroborate each other’s testimonies. I tell them about how I told Cooper to stay in the car, and went in on my own. My throat tightens thinking about Cooper testifying to this exact thing yesterday: how he got all teary eyed and remorseful at the fact that he let me go in alone. My testimony about my conversation with Janae has already been said by her, though the defense interrupts when I try to tell them what Jake and Janae had discussed, claiming “hearsay.” The judge tells me to move on, and I explain how Jake heard my ringtone, then chased me out of the house. I have to cut my eyes away from the lawyers and Jake when I talk about having him chase after me. I roam the courtroom until I see Ashton and Eli, sitting side by side with the others. Their reassuring presence calms me down and I’m able to explain what happened when Jake caught me, how he hit me and strangled me. 

“I thought I was going to die,” I say, voice tight with tears I refuse to shed. “I kept looking up at him while he was strangling me and all I could think was ‘surely he’ll stop, he’ll remember who I am, how much I loved him.’ But he didn’t. I could feel myself passing out.”

“Then what happened?” The prosecutor prompts.

“Then the weight was lifted off me, and I realized Cooper was there. He held me in his arms and called the ambulance. He was as terrified as I was—“

“Objection, the witness cannot possibly testify to the emotion of someone else.”

“Sustained.”

I frown, and rephrase. “I could feel how fast his heartbeat was. He called the ambulance and the police and we checked on Janae, who we couldn’t wake up. I went to the hospital.”

“Did you sustain any injuries?”

I know the answer to this one. “Yes, I had a fractured skull, and bruised ribs. I had a severe concussion, torn ligament in my ankle and lots of bruising. It took me a few months to fully recover.”

“Thank you, Miss Prentiss,” the prosecutor shoots me a reassuring smile. “No further questions.” 

I let out a slow breath. Now for the hard part.

“Miss Prentiss,” Jake’s lawyer begins, his voice patronizing. “Thank you for being here today, I’m sure this is all so overwhelming.”

I blink. “It’s fine,” I tell him. I can see his tactic now, where he was outwardly hostile to Cooper—at times outright insulting him on the stand, he’s taken the ‘poor girl’ approach to me. He’s going to try and make me look easily manipulated; easily confused. It’s their claim, after all, that Cooper, Janae and I made up the extent of his involvement to free ourselves of any wrongdoing. And that the rest of his part—which they couldn’t completely dismiss thanks to the recording—was the result of ‘undue influence’ from Simon. It seems to me like they’re just throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks. After Cooper’s testimony yesterday, when he made his way back to my place with Kris, obviously tearstained and exhausted, Eli promised him that it was a good thing that Jake’s lawyers are stretching themselves in so many directions. It means that they know the evidence is so strong that they need to try multiple different tactics to have a chance at lowering his sentence. I keep those words in my head to keep me calm. 

“Would you say that you know the defendant well?”

My eyes slide back over to Jake, who now leans back in his chair and stares back. He has that stupidly smug look back on his face, the one that says he thinks he can puppeteer this whole thing into working his way. “I thought I did.”

“You dated him for several years, isn’t that correct?”

“That’s correct.” 

“And yet, you still don’t think you know him well?”

I shoot the lawyer a flat look. “I think once someone tries to murder you, you kinda rethink how well you know them.”

I cast my eyes out to the gallery just in time to see Nate muffle a laugh into his hand. 

The lawyer scrambles for a second. “So it was out of character for him?” 

“It was…different to the person he had portrayed himself to be to me in the past few years before that, yes,” I answer carefully. 

“So it’s possible that the defendant was acting due to the influence of someone else?”

I look at Jake, who suddenly looks very smug, staring me down. Like he thinks he can’t intimidate me into lying that Simon forced him to do it all. I tilt my chin up and stare right back, calmly. Not this time bastard. “No.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because nobody could ever make Jake do something he didn’t want to do. Ever.”

Jake’s expression falters. It takes everything in me not to mouth ‘fucking got you.’ It’s killing him not to be the one in control. I square my shoulders. I’m the powerful one now, asshole. 

The lawyer frowns. “Jake broke up with you after you cheated on him, isn’t that correct?”

“It was after I told him, yes. Although I later discovered that he already knew.” 

It’s a line of questioning that’s going nowhere other than to make me look like a bitch to the jury. 

“And how long between those events? You cheating and you telling him?” The lawyer skilfully avoids addressing that Jake already knew.

“A few months.”

“So you’re used to being a liar?”

“Objection! Badgering the witness, Your Honor.” The prosecutor sounds frustrated. I know this one from Cooper’s testimony yesterday, as far as I can tell, it’s just an objection meaning that the other lawyer is being a dick. 

“I’ll rephrase, Miss Prentiss, would you say that you are good at concealing the truth?”

“No,” I tell him. “I was awful at keeping that secret, I told Jake everything before it came out anyway.”

Jake shifts angrily in his seat and I stare him down. I can see his face twitching with anger, the way it did that day in the forest. I can feel the ice slide down my spine. His mask has cracked.

And it’s cracked in front of everyone. 

I press down a smile and stare at my hands. 

The lawyer lets me go, realizing he’s not going to get the answers he wants out of me. I stand up from the witness box, heading back toward the gallery. I make sure to catch Jake’s eye when my back is to the jury, giving him a slow, serene smile. 

I can see the realization that he’s not going to silence me for once, shutter across his face.

It feels like victory. 

Chapter Text

Bejeweled 

Bronwyn

“I’m really not sure about this.” I twist the stud in my earring anxiously, trying not to move my eyelids as Addy brushes something sparkly onto them.

“Why not? You look hot.” Addy’s one to talk, her cotton candy hair is in loose waves around her neck, her eyes shimmering with golden glitter that gives her a vaguely ethereal look. It’s not hard to remember why she was once the most popular girl at school. 

“Well, Nate will be there.”

“This isn’t about Nate.” Addy slams the eyeshadow brush down hard enough on her vanity that all of her bottles of perfume shake. She has been severely unimpressed with Nate ever since I confided in her about our conversation when he was released. “If that stupid boy doesn’t want to realize what he has then that’s his problem.” She gathers up my hair in a twist and tugs hard enough to yank at my scalp.

“Ow.” I say pointedly. “It’s not me you’re mad at.”

“I’m not mad at anyone,” she says sweetly, sliding a few pins into my hair to hold it in place. “Nate will come around, but we’re not worrying about him tonight. We’re worrying about you.” Addy carefully coats my lashes in mascara then takes a step back to appreciate her work. “Et voila! I give you…a princess.”

At my frown, she blinks. “What, Princess Diaries? Really? Nothing? God, Bronwyn. I don’t know how we’re friends sometimes, honestly. Just turn around.” She sounds utterly exasperated, and I figure I better just do what she says. Although there is the chance that if I push her hard enough, she’ll give up on the whole idea of Chad Posner’s party, and we’ll just stay in and watch the Princess Diaries instead. I honestly have no idea how she even talked me into going tonight. Addy’s powers of persuasion should be scientifically studied. 

I turn and face the mirror, and immediately flush red. I don’t know what she’s done, but it’s incredible. I don’t look like I’m wearing tons of makeup, which would only make me uncomfortable. Instead, she’s just brought out my features subtly. I look like I’m glowing.

“Nate is going to cry when he sees you,” she says smugly. 

I turn to her with a grin. “I thought this was not about Nate?”

“It’s not,” she insists. “It’s just a little bonus. We’re not letting him walk all over your peace of mind tonight. We’re going out, and if he’s there, and he’s jealous then…” she gives a pleased little hum and shrugs. “Again, his problem.” She hands me a pair of, thankfully, flat shoes. “Let’s get going, superstar. Cooper’s meeting us there.”

“Cooper is going to Chad Posner’s party? Cooper never goes to Chad’s parties.” Well, neither do I, to be fair. 

She flips her hair over one shoulder and smiles.

“You are terrifying,” I tell her. “I respect it.”

The bass is shaking the foundations of the house and I immediately want to go home. 

Addy must see it on my face because she tightens her grip around my hand and pulls me in closer. She tugs us across the threshold and I’m hit with the unmistakable combination of cheap beer and sweaty bodies. It’s a much needed reminder of why I don’t go to parties. I reel backwards a little but Addy’s hand remains firm in mine.

“It will be fine,” she promises into my ear. She takes a cup off the bench and takes a sip. “Alcohol free,” she says, handing it to me.

I take my own cautious sip to confirm. Tastes like pure cola. I cast my eyes around the room, but I don’t see the wash of dark hair I’m looking for. Not that I would tell Addy that I was searching for Nate, in any case. He’s made it clear that he’s not interested. Besides, I’m sort of dating Evan Neiman now. Although, I’m fairly sure Addy wouldn’t love me looking for him either. I overheard her call him “the most boring man alive” to Cooper the other day, who despite being one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, did not protest. 

Speaking of Cooper, I catch his eyes across the room where he is trapped into a conversation with one of the boys from Chad’s crew and looks like he would enjoy nothing more than putting his head into a wall. 

“I’m going to go save him,” I say to Addy, gesturing at Cooper’s very clear help-me eyes from across the room.

Addy puts her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ve got him. Go have fun.”

“Fun?” I hiss. “What fun? Don’t you dare—Addy!”

She toddles her fingers at me as she makes her way across the room, leaving me to clutch aimlessly at the air. 

I’m not alone for more than a moment before a hand covers my outstretched one.

“Bronwyn, lookin’ good!” 

“Thanks, Chad.” I snatch my hand away, but Chad slides up closer.

“That post-murder life really working for ya, hey?”

I don’t bother keeping the disgust off my face. 

“She didn’t murder anyone,” Nate sounds bored as he comes to my rescue, but his face is stormy and serious. 

Chad slaps Nate on the shoulder. “I’m just kidding.” He seems to realize fairly quickly that Nate is not, and with one last, semi-predatorial look that has me regretting letting Addy talk me into wearing this outfit, he disappears.

“Hi,” he says softly, brushing back a piece of hair behind my ear.

God, this boy. He makes my knees buckle. “Hi.”

“You look good.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps rippling with the movement. I press my hands together to hide their shake. 

“So do you.”

“Since when are Chad’s parties your scene, I thought—“ he interrupts himself as he catches me glance at Addy from across the room. “Ah. Gotcha.”

“Yeah, well, she says that I should have some fun tonight.”

Nate frowns at the implication. “Not too much fun, though. Right?”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “Why? It’s not like I have a boyfriend, remember?”

He presses his lips firmly together. 

“What’s the point of being a good girl.” My voice takes on a harshly mocking tone, and it occurs to me suddenly that I’m way too emotional to be doing this right now. “Never worked out for me before.”

“Because that’s who you are, Rojas.” He grins at me crookedly. “But I get it,” he adds, skimming a hand lightly up my side. “You’re teaching me a lesson.”

I shift. “It’s not for you.”

“Of course not,” he says, tipping my chin up with his thumb. 

My breath catches in my throat. “Nate, I—“

Something clings to my wrist and I’m spun into Addy’s arms so fast it makes me dizzy. “Come on,” she says. “Let’s go dance.” 

“We were talking,” Nate says, but he’s grinning at her. No one ever stays mad at Addy.

“Well, wait in line,” she says. “I have plans.”

I glance at Nate wordlessly, but he waves me off.  “Go on, a diamond’s gotta shine.”

Addy takes my hand properly and pulls me away into the crowd.

“What was that?” I hiss at her.

“You’re playing hard to get,” she reminds me. “You’re lighting this whole place up, he should remember that!”

I glance back over my shoulder. Nate is watching me with dark eyes. He slowly lifts his cup and tilts it in my direction. I press down my smile.

Addy’s right.

I can make this whole place shimmer. 

Chapter Text

Labyrinth 

Maeve

I blink up at the ceiling. 

Luis’s room is lighter than mine. His window faces out into his front yard, street lamps and the neighbor’s bedroom lights glistening dimly outside. It casts a thin shadow across Luis’s face, and I can only barely see his slack expression. His chest rises and falls as he lets out the occasional rumbling snore. It’s something I am positive I put on my mental red flag list back when I was convincing myself I didn’t want a relationship with him, but now I can’t help but find it a little endearing. 

I shift in the bed, trying not to adjust the sheets too much. I can’t stop staring at him in the dim light.

Breathe in, breathe out. 

My chest rattles with the slow release of air. 

I don’t know what to do with myself sometimes. Nights like this when everything still feels so raw, like I could be split right open at the seams. I wake up on nights like these, my head spinning with a thousand thoughts. Not just my childhood, but Simon, the bomb, the stupid truth or dare game. Nothing in my life has been easy. I’ve had to learn not to trust it, happiness, safety, security. It all gets ripped from me eventually. 

I used to think that the best thing I could do for anyone was to step away, let this plane go down all on its own. That way I wouldn’t have to drag anybody down with me. If anything did happen, if my cancer were to come back, if anything went wrong, I could take it alone. 

The worst part of it all is that I have to put on a happy face through everything. Everyone knows me as the strong one, the resilient one. I bounce back, that’s what I do. That’s why I never let anyone in. It feels like a disappointment, to let them see that it’s not real, that I am so close to breaking down. 

Luis shifts in the bed, reaching out a hand blindly and making contact with my thigh. He’s unlike anyone I’ve ever known. He took an ax to all of my walls and didn’t stop breaking them down until I finally let him in. 

I feel my eyes burn with unshed tears and I swallow thickly. Now is not the time. 

I don’t even know what has brought this on. Sometimes it all just hits me with no warning. I carry on all of my days thinking that the pain will hurt just for now, that it will end shortly. But it never does. 

I’m afraid that letting anyone else in is just giving someone else the power to hurt me too, and I’m not sure I can take anymore.

I cast my eyes over Luis’s sleeping form and I can’t help the small smile that crosses my face. 

Our relationship was so rocky to start with, I don’t trust anything that happens so rapidly, that makes me feel so deeply. His reputation didn’t help. I was convinced that letting him in would only mean inviting in a heartbreak that I would have to spend the rest of my life getting over. 

But that’s not what happened. Luis is unfailingly kind, he is protective, he is gentle. He would do anything for me. He would break his back to make me smile. 

It’s an overwhelming kind of love. 

I think back to when I first realized it, first knew that I was a goner at that stupid baseball game. All I could think was how stupid I was, to go and fall in love with this man who could have anyone he could ever want at the snap of a finger. I thought we were doomed to crash and burn, but he didn’t let that happen.

He fought his way into my life. Every attempt to push him away, only made him work harder to be closer to me. 

When everything in my head is a mess, an unnavigable labyrinth, he makes it all quiet. He makes it all make sense. 

I watch the rise of his chest and time my breaths to them. 

Oh, how I love him. 

He stirs as if he can feel my eyes on him and I freeze, trying not to disturb him any further. 

“Maeve?” His voice is rough with sleep in the quiet of the room. “Y’up?”

“Go back to sleep,” I whisper.

There’s a beat of quiet in which I think I’ve gotten my way. Then he breathes out heavily, rolling to sit up. He glances at me sleepily, his hair a mess and the imprint of his pillows on the side of his face. “You alright?” 

I smile at him like it’s pulled out of my chest. “I love you.”

He blinks, trying to comprehend this information so late at night. “Yeah,” he says gruffly. “I love you too. You alright, though?”

That’s how well he knows me. Even half asleep. He knows me in his bones. 

“I am now.”

“C’mere.” He finds my hand and entwines our fingers.

He doesn’t bother asking, knows I won’t have the answer. I never know why I feel like this, it just happens sometimes, when it all feels like too much. Nothing feels trustworthy, nothing feels real.

I let myself be tugged into his embrace. The warmth of his bare chest spreads across my back as he pulls the cover over me. He presses a kiss to my air, undoubtedly getting a mouthful of my freshly cropped hair as he does so.

“Love ya,” he mumbles, curling an arm around my stomach to drag me in closer. His thumb circles the bare skin in the slip between my tank and sleep shorts. 

I slide my fingers around the firm muscle of his bicep.

This is real. He is real.

“Love you too,” I tell him, my heart bending with the truth of it. 

“Duerme bien,” he says into my ear, before his chest is rumbling with a soft snore again.

I almost laugh. “Duerme bien,” I whisper back into the quiet of the room.

When I close my eyes this time, I don’t think of anything except his warm arms around me.

I sleep until the morning. 

Chapter Text

Kris

Cooper’s legs are bouncing so much that the entire car is shaking.

I lean across and put my hand on his thigh, gently putting him back flat footed on the ground. “Maybe your car wasn’t just old,” I suggest jokingly. “Maybe it broke because you shook all of its pieces out of place.”

He laughs a little sarcastically, but tangles our fingers together where they rest on his thigh. 

We’re on our way to dinner with his dad, and no matter how many years span between when he was outed and now, he never seems to get less freaked out by the thought of seeing him.

It makes me infuriated. Cooper is the kindest, most understanding, caring and sincere person I have ever met. The fact that his father has the audacity to still make him feel nervous and terrible about nothing more than who he fundamentally is? It’s detestable.

I swallow my anger though. It doesn’t serve anyone. Cooper knows that his dad’s behavior isn’t okay, he doesn’t need me telling him that, too. 

We pull up at the restaurant and I take the keys out of the ignition but otherwise don’t move.

Cooper takes a deep, slow breath. “One sec,” he sounds apologetic and I shake my head instantly.

“Take your time.”

Cooper’s eyebrows are furrowed and I can tell he is annoyed with himself. It’s not helpful to point out that his emotions are justified, so instead I squeeze his hand silently. His shoulders rise and fall with his measured breaths before he opens his eyes, gives himself a final shake off, and then nods at me.

“Alright,” he says, voicing dipping with a hint of his accent. “You okay? We good to go in?”

I smile softly at him. “Yes,” I tell him. “Let’s do it.”

He leans across and kisses me gently before unbuckling his seatbelt and stepping out of the car. I follow his lead, meeting him where he has stopped to wait at the edge of the curb. 

He tangles our hands together firmly as we head inside, straight-backed and proud. 

His dad is already at the table, half empty beer in front of him. We’re not late by any means, but it doesn’t stop his disapproving glance up.

Cooper’s hand tightens in mine. I squeeze back reassuringly before letting go to pull out a chair. 

“Hi Pops,” Cooper says as he takes his seat. 

His dad grunts out some kind of response, taking another long swig of his beer. I feel the old familiar urge to pull my own hair out. I don’t understand why he keeps coming to these things, given his clear lack of interest in making an effort with either of us. If he wanted to hate me forever, blame me for “turning” his perfect son, then fine. Whatever. It’s the cold indifference for his own son that sends anger burrowing into my veins. I don’t understand how anyone could treat their own blood like that, especially when that person is Cooper, indisputably the kindest and most gentle soul I’ve ever known. 

“Where’s Mom?” Cooper asks, eyes already downcast. He’s so much quieter when we’re with his father, all that quick wit and sunniness that draws everyone to him sapped out. 

“Some PTA thing,” Kevin says dismissively. “Couldn’t get out of it.”

I see the irritation flash across Cooper’s face before he smooths it out. “So it’s just us then?”

“Yep.”

“Great.” The sarcastic comments slips out before I can stop myself, and I stare resolutely at the table to avoid the glare that Kevin shifts on me. 

We sit in a tense silence, broken only by Cooper’s slow flip of the menu pages. We’ve been to Glenn’s a thousand and one times. He knows this menu like the back of his hand. 

“Hi! Are we ready to order?” The waitress’s chipper voice breaks through the oppressive silence and we all breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god,” Cooper mutters under his breath. He requests our orders in rapid fire, and I watch across the table as his dad frowns. 

Nothing gets under his skin more than the little domestic things. Cooper knowing my order without having to ask is like nails on a chalkboard to him. 

He orders his own meal then hands over the menus.

With nothing left to occupy his hands, Cooper takes a paper napkin and rolls it into a ball. I watch his fingers under the table as he shifts through the different grips on a baseball. I want to take his hand in mine; to squeeze it tightly or pull him away from here, but I don’t. I know his coping mechanism when I see it. His eyes slide closed briefly next to me, and I know he’s picturing himself pitching a slider, watch as his fingers switch to the grip, then he releases his breath and his shoulders sink with relief. 

His dad glances back from where he’s been watching the basketball over Cooper’s shoulder. I can’t help my frown. Why even bother coming? Why make us do this?

“So Cooper, are there any more sponsorship deals on the horizon?”

Ah. 

Cooper’s dad has hardly been shy about his expectation that Cooper should pay them back for the money they spent moving to Bayview. Never mind that he didn’t even have enough for a down payment on his own car, Kevin expects that Cooper should be able to pay off their house and any outstanding debts - finally “make this whole mess worth it” as he so eloquently describes. 

Cooper’s face shifts through about twenty different emotions. “Some,” he says tightly. “But I haven’t had enough time to vet them properly yet.”

Kevin rolls his eyes. “Aw c’mon Coop, it doesn’t matter! Just take the money, who cares if the product sucks.”

“I do. I’m not putting my name behind something just for a quick buck. That makes me look bad.”

“It fills your pockets is what it does.”

“You mean yours,” Cooper snaps back. 

Kevin’s expression tightens. For a brief second, they look so alike, twin angry hazel eyes glaring across the table. “Don’t be an ungrateful brat.” Kevin’s harsh voice breaks the illusion. Even in his worst fit of anger, Cooper has never spoken to someone like that. 

“I’m not—“

“Do you know what we sacrificed?” Kevin cuts him off. “As if you haven’t done enough to sabotage all our hard work.”

“Your hard work?” My furious words get drowned out by Kevin’s raising voice. 

“You would have double the amount of sponsors if you weren’t running around with this boy, you know? People don’t want to see that from their athletes!” 

I can see on Kevin’s face that he knows he’s gone too far. He flinches at his own words, but he doesn’t take them back. 

Cooper pushes his chair back. His face is a mask of calmness. “Excuse me,” he says, the epitome of politeness as he stands and retreats to the bathroom.

I stand up to join him, but my righteous fury gets the better of me. Before I even realize it, I’m spinning back around to face Kevin. 

Drawn up to my full 6’4 height, he suddenly seems so small and insignificant sitting at the table. I feel my face flush an angry red, and the words just pour out of me. 

“He is a much better son than you will ever deserve.” The words are quiet and deadly, but seem to echo in the silence of the restaurant. “He would have given anything, anything, to make you happy, to make you proud of him - and you couldn’t even do that. Your son is one of the best collegiate athletes in baseball. He is brilliant, talented, and above all of that, despite all of the shit you put him through, he is kind. He is so, unfailingly kind. You dare to take advantage of him? After everything you’ve already done? After you made him feel so ashamed to be himself? You have the audacity to put your hand out for money?” My words are thick and fast now, raising in heat and volume. “You could live a thousand lives and never deserve him. I hope that you know that you ruined everything. You could have had the best relationship with your son, stood by his side as he achieved everything you have always dreamed about, and you threw that away for what? Because he fell in love with me instead of Keely? Is it really worth it?”

My chest is heaving with anger. His face fractures then breaks, for a moment, self doubt seeping through. I watch as he steadfastly rebuilds his mask, settling back into hard lines.

It’s a lesson Cooper had to learn a long time ago - his dad will never change. 

I don’t bother letting him respond. I turn on my heel and march off to the bathroom, hot on Cooper’s trail.

When I get in, he’s washing his hands at the sink. He takes one careful look at the red flush of anger on my cheeks and raises one perfect eyebrow.

“Everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that.”

He laughs, pressing his hands forwards and backwards on a piece of paper towel until they’re dry. “Kris, if I got upset every time Pop said anything vaguely shitty, I’d never get out of bed.” He throws the damp towel in the bin. “I don’t mind, I just need a break sometimes. But I’m fine.” His eyes raise to meet mine, soft and curious. “Are you?”

I shift a little awkwardly. Cooper really doesn’t seem upset, I know the signs well enough and this is not any of them. 

“He shouldn’t talk to you like that,” I deflect instead.

He laughs. “You know, there was a little while there, after I was outed, that I used to pick fights with Pop. I didn’t care if he yelled at me, because it at least meant he had to look at me.” 

I swallow hard, and he reaches across to take my hand. 

“But I’ve come to realize that it’s just not worth it,” he says, honesty sketched into every line in his face. “I have an amazing family, in all of you, who don’t care that I’m gay, who don’t expect anything from me in return. That’s all I need.”

I lean across and capture his lips in a soft kiss. “I'm really proud of you, you know that?”

“I know,” he murmurs back. 

“I do, however, wish you had shared this enlightened perspective with me before, because I kind of just screamed at your father.”

He stares blankly at me.

“I thought he upset you!” I rush to defend myself and he burst into laughter. 

“What did you say?” He chokes out between giggles.

My face heats up for a completely different reason. I’m quite thoroughly humiliated. “Something about how he didn’t deserve you, and he should be ashamed for ruining his relationship with you.”

He grins at me. “You’re my favorite person in the entire world,” he says. “But you don’t need to defend me. If I’ve learnt anything, it’s that everything works out how it is supposed to. He doesn’t need to be told that he doesn’t deserve me, he’ll figure that out on his own.”

I shake my head, marveled. “After everything you’ve been through, you still believe in fate like that?”

He grins; almost shark-like. “Not fate,” he corrects. “Karma.” 

I feel my own mouth tip up in a grin. 

“In my experience, people tend to figure out on their own that they’ve fucked up. It follows them, the way they treat people, it always has its consequences. It’s his lesson to learn. Besides,” he adds, “Karma loves me.” He lets his Southern accent draw out his vowels and I laugh. “How else do you think I got you?” 

“I’m your karma?”

“In the best way possible, baby,” he tells me, pulling me in by my waist for another drawn out kiss. “What do you think? Ditch and leave Pop with the bill?”

I laugh out loud. “Karma.”

He nods, and grabs my hand tight in his. “Now you’re getting it.”

He doesn’t let go the entire way home. 

Chapter Text

Sweet Nothing

Cooper

This day monumentally sucks.

It’s the only thought in my head as I rest it, exasperated, on my steering wheel. My phone is buzzing in my pocket but I don’t bother to answer it. It’s almost certain to be another college scout miraculously reaching back out now that I’m definitely not a murderer.

I’m not interested in their calls. I don’t want to play for a place with such a weak spine. I’m going to need more support than a halfhearted offer and a promise of how “totally-not-homophobic” they are. I can’t stand talking to them, the fake, smooth-talk; telling me why I want to hear, so self-impressed with their glad handing, as if it has any effect on me.

There’s no doubt in my mind where I want to go, at any rate. Cal State might not be the best college for baseball, but they’re the only ones who stuck by me throughout this whole ordeal. And at any rate, I’m honest enough with myself to know that it doesn’t really matter where I go to college. MLB teams are already chomping at the bit to get a call with me. That’s not going to change if I’m in Tennessee or California. 

And the fact that it lets me stick near Kris? Well that’s just an added bonus. 

Doesn’t stop my coach, my team, and my father from giving their opinions about the whole thing though. If I have to hear one more speech about how attending Cal State is “throwing away my potential”, I might actually kill someone.

Yikes.

Okay, too far, even for the privacy of my own head. But still. It is seriously getting on my nerves. 

I shift forward and bury my head further into the steering wheel, only to lurch backwards when it suddenly sounds the horn loudly, echoing in the car park. 

The other Bayview High students in the lot turn to stare at me, and though it is a feeling I am well familiar with, it is not one that I am eager to repeat. I shift to reverse and make my way out of the car park as fast as possible. 

I’ve calmed down by the time I get home. I let the calls go to voicemail, it’ll be a problem for tomorrow. I’m just running inside to have a quick shower and get changed, I’m due at Kris’s any minute. 

My monumentally sucky day feels the need to get one last gut punch in, though. I open the front door to Pop’s face, and can immediately tell from his expression that this is about to be a conversation I don’t want to have. 

“What now?” I ask, wearily. 

“I just got a call from Coach Ruffalo,” he says, which is rarely good news nowadays. “Care to explain why you’ve been dodging calls from colleges?”

I sigh, dropping my bag at the door, and making my way upstairs. “Well, I figured they would call him eventually anyway.”

“So you just decided to ignore them?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Cooper. Honestly.” His exasperation is evident, and shared. 

“Pop,” I hit him back with the same tone, and he rolls his eyes.

“Don’t take an attitude with me! You’re the one throwing away your future.”

“Oh my god.” I can’t stand to hear those words again. “I’m not throwing away anything.”

I retreat up the stairs, but he follows me. “No team is going to take Cal State serious, Cooper. It’s a waste of your talent.”

“If I’m as talented as you say I am, then they should take me seriously no matter where I come from.”

“There’s a reason we moved to Bayview,” he says, bumping my bedroom door open with his hip as I try to close it on him. “So you could play baseball all year. Because teams look at that. They look at the experience.”

“And that experience has made me one of the best, most sought after high school players.” It’s cocky to say, but it’s true. “That experience is not going to rot away at Cal State. The team I’m in doesn’t matter, the people I’m pitching to do. And they’ll be the same no matter where I play.”

Pop splutters. He hates it when I make a good argument. “But your resume—“

“Is already clouded by gay murder suspect, I don’t think Cal State is going to be too much of a blight. Trust me.”

He doesn’t like that argument either. His face screws up. I can see him formulating his next sentence, and I know damn well it’s not gonna be one I wanna hear.

I close my bathroom door in his face instead. Petty, yes, but effective. Over the roar of the shower head, I can barely even hear his indignant voice. And there’s no way in hell he’s gonna burst in here while I’m showering. So I have at least fifteen minutes of peace, and I use them to shampoo my hair, twice, with the new shit Kris bought me. It makes me smell vaguely like strawberries which I am not entirely against, and makes the waves in my hair actually fall nicely instead of a bird's nest that has to be tucked away beneath a cap. 

I also try that new face scrub. It’s coffee scented, which I don’t really drink, but combined with the sugary scent from the strawberry, makes me think of Kris - who I am sure would be horrified by how aggressively I’m rubbing it into my skin right now, but baby steps. 

I towel my hair off to the serene sounds of Pop’s reignited rant, and get changed. My overnight bag is already sitting on the floor of the bedroom, and I open the door to his face with a steadfast intention of ignoring him. 

“Cooper,” he says, exhausted. “We have to talk about this.”

“We really don’t,” I offer up, leaning behind him to grab the bag and swing it over my shoulder. 

“This is what we’ve all worked for,” he pleads. 

“Maybe,” I admit. “But I’ve worked harder. And it’s my life, after all.”

Pop’s face turns stormy. “That’s no attitude to take. You know, this won’t last forever. People wanting you. The end is coming, and if you’re not careful, it will come a lot faster than it should.”

I shrug. “That’s a risk I’m going to have to take.” 

“You owe more to this family,” Pop warns me as we head down the stairs. “You should be doing more to repay us for all we have done for you, you understand that right?”

“I understand that you think that,” I tell him calmly as I reach the front door. “I’ll be home tomorrow, we can discuss it then.” 

“Cooper!”

“Bye Pop,” I gently close the door in his face and then sag against it to prevent him from following me out.

I am so tired. I want nothing more than to go to sleep for a couple of hundred years. 

I dig into my pocket for my keys and come into contact with something smooth and firm instead. I pull it out, frowning, at the tiny pebble. I blink hard when I finally see it, and then can’t stop the smile from crossing my face. I pull it closer to examine it properly. Kris and I found it on the shore of a beach we visited in July, it was split in perfect halves, and we each took one.

I forgot I even had it.

I press it into my palm so hard that it makes a little red outline, before dropping back in my pocket and picking up my keys instead. 

On the drive to Kris’s, I can’t help thinking about what Pop said. Maybe I’m not doing enough. Maybe I have become complacent. I hate that he can get in my head like this, I was so confident in my decision, and he unravels the whole thing so quickly. 

By the time I make it to his house, I’m practically shaking with stress. I turn the lock with a trembling hand, and am met with the overwhelming smell of melted butter and chocolate. Kris is at the counter, headphones in, he hasn’t noticed my arrival yet. 

He sways in the kitchen, humming under his breath to whatever song is playing. There’s something in the oven, something sweet, which means Kris has had a long day - he only bakes sweet things when he’s had a bad day. 

“Hey!” He spins around and catches sight of me. He grins, and it’s something pure, like he can’t even imagine anything negative in the world when he’s looking at me. “I didn’t hear you come in!”

I drop the bag at my feet with startling speed and run straight into his arms.

“Woah,” he catches me, and then carefully removes his headphones. He wraps a steadier arm around me, tucking his face into my hair. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I breathe out. “It’s just been a long day.”

He nods into me, consideringly. “How so?” 

I pull back to look at him. “What do you think I should do about college? Should I go to Cal State, or somewhere more reputable for baseball?”

He stares at me with a blissfully blank face. “I don’t know, Cooper. What do you want?”

I feel like laughing at how simple he makes it sound. “What do you want me to want?”

Kris brushes back my hair, cupping my jaw. “I don’t want you to want anything,” he says. 

I bite my lip. I don’t know what to do with someone who doesn’t want something from me, that’s all my life has ever been. “Everyone expects so much of me; they want so much from me.”

“I know,” he says gently. “But you can’t please everyone, baby. It’s too heavy a burden to carry.”

I can barely get the words out. “I can’t handle the expectation,” I admit quietly. “I’m too soft for all of this.” I feel my face burn with shame at the admission, but Kris does nothing but place a finger under my chin to lift my head, and kiss me gently. 

“That’s allowed,” he reminds me. “You can just be whoever you want to be, you know? I have no expectation of you, Cooper. You are brilliant, and talented, and will make an amazing player in the Majors, but you’re also clever, and funny, and kind. You would be a great teacher, or painter, or news broadcaster, or fireman, or—“

I cut him off with my laughter.

He grins, brushing our noses together. “The point is that you can be whoever you want to be, okay? I will love you no matter what. You don’t owe the world anything.”

I wrap myself around him, breathing him in. “You’re so much better than I deserve,” I tell him quietly.

“Nonsense,” he says firmly. “We deserve each other.” He gives me one last kiss, then pulls away with a grin. “I have cookies in the oven. What do you think of eating them warm over a TV show?”

I grin at him. “What a mind.”