3 4
Maybe

As I take a seat in my art class, I refrain from patting myself on the back for finally attending a full day of school. Praise in my head is all I get, because though this is step one of putting myself back together, there's still so much more that I need to do.

Especially since a big reason for why I'm opting to stay in school is because my mother is home today, and I'm not ready to face her yet. What I said was all kinds of fucked up, and though I meant every word, I'd only said them to her because I was so upset. I didn't want to be the only one.

Taking back those words or smoothing things over is going to be hard. I'd rather face my shit at Arlin Preparatory first.

When the classroom door swings open, I take in a deep breath, knowing the shit I kind of need to deal with has arrived.

I'm not sure why, but I feel my breath actually catch when I see him. His kind, brown eyes find me immediately. He freezes, just as I do. Half of my mouth raises into the smallest smile I can muster. I watch as his own shy smile takes over his face, and then he's walking my way.

The chair Elijah usually occupies is pushed back as he falls into it, gently placing his book bag onto the table after. "Hey," he says softly.

"Hey," I reply, letting the relaxed atmosphere stay a little longer before we actually speak.

I place my elbow onto the table, my chin into my palm, and turn to watch him. His smile grows, but there's a hesitancy in his movements as he leans back in his seat. "So..." he trails off, eyes glancing around the room before coming back to me. "You haven't missed much."

I missed you. Woah, what the fuck? I blink rapidly, then shake the thought away. But the feeling remains. "Uh, I kind of figured not much was happening in this class," I say jokingly.

He nods in agreement. "Just some shit about shading properly," he says in the same tone. The smile he flashes after causes his eyes to crinkle at the corners, but it somehow makes his eyes twinkle, even under these dim lights. "Nothing important. Now, about pre-calc..."

I cringe, then bring a hand to my forehead dramatically. "I am so fucked for that class."

Elijah chuckles. "You just need to catch up on a few lessons. It won't be too hard."

"Well, I was close to failing when I actually did go, so..." I trail off, flashing him an oh well look.

He shakes his head. "I promise, it wasn't a lot. The semester is almost over so there isn't much left to learn."

Because his voice sounds so sure, I almost believe him. Who knows, maybe I'll finally have luck on my side and pass. My stomach drops at the thought of grades. I never worried about it before—not to brag, but school has just always been easy for me—but lately I haven't been putting in any effort at all.

Good thing colleges don't care about the last semester nearly as much as the first and the other three years of high school.

The thought of college and my future brings that dreadful feeling back. I applied to many different universities, and should be hearing back soon.

"Do you mind if I ask how you're doing?"

I purse my lips, pondering an appropriate response. Of course I don't want to discuss this shit, but I also don't want to push Elijah away. Unless... he knew.

I eye him warily. "You really wanna talk about it?"

"You've missed a lot of classes and haven't been looking... um." Elijah pauses to cough, and when I raise a brow at him, he shifts awkwardly. "Yourself."

"Hm," I hum, facing him fully. "How have I been looking, Elijah?"

He brings a hand to the back of his neck and rubs, an obvious nervous tick he has. "Not bad," he clarifies, coughing once more. "Not bad at all, just, uh, it's obvious something's wrong. But not, like, obvious in a bad way."

Ignoring the way my stomach churns at hearing him say not bad at all, I drop my defensive stance and face forward. "Mhm," I hum agreeingly. "I guess you can't hide pain."

"You're in pain?" Elijah asks, but it sounds more like a statement.

"I'm getting over it," I tell him. "Well, I'm trying too."

He nods, staying silent. I look at him from the corner of my eye, and when I notice the way his fingers nervously play with the strings of his hoodie, I sigh and fully face him.

"Elijah," I call out softly. His head rises to meet my gaze. I take in a shaky breath. "I know you're, um, I guess friends with Jalen, so I..."

"I didn't know anything," he says over me. His hands drop heavily into his lap, and he angles his body towards me. Our knees knock together, and I quickly move mine away, just as he does the same. "I swear to you, Lyndon, I don't listen to any of the gossip around here or when Jalen and David talk about the games."

My eyes roam his face, taking in the sincere look in those kind, brown eyes, the small frown his lips are formed into, and even taking note of the few little freckles littered across the tops of his cheeks. I hadn't noticed them before, or how his golden skin is the reasoning for why his brown eyes shine so brightly. I feel my heart rate pick up, and I tell myself it's because I'm not sure if I should believe him or not.

But I know that's not the truth, and I know without a doubt that I do believe him. Even if I have every reason not to believe anything he or anyone else at this school—or in life in general—says to me again, there's just something in his eyes that lets me know he can be trusted.

Maybe I'm being naive again, but maybe I'm not, and maybe still trusting my gut instinct is the biggest step of all in putting myself back together.

"You don't need to defend yourself," I eventually say. "You weren't the one that did anything to me."

Only Jalen truly hurt me, and only Jalen deserves to deal with the repercussions of that hurt.

His eyes flash with sympathy. The tightness in my chest threatens to come back. I don't want his pity. But the look leaves, and he instead nods in understanding. "I'm still not entirely sure what happened, but I'm sorry you're going through it right now."

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what happened either," I confess with a light laugh.

Elijah's bushy brows furrow. "What do you mean you're not sure?"

"The whole thing's a little fuzzy. Like, if you asked me why me and Jalen aren't together, I really wouldn't have a concrete answer. A lot of shit just happened and built up, and now it's... done."

"You don't sound too sure about it being done," Elijah points out.

I open my mouth, then close it. I did sound hesitant, but why? "Well, we are done," I say firmly. "That's for shit sure."

"How can you be done if you don't even know why?"

I wave my hands around, growing a little annoyed at being questioned. "Because Elijah," I almost ground out. "I can't exactly be with someone who didn't really mean for us to be together."

As Elijah tilts his head, looking even more confused, I take note of a few of our classmates watching and listening. Damn, they are so fucking nosey! I can't take it.

Rolling my eyes, I move closer to Elijah, resulting in our knees knocking once more. Neither of us move back this time.

"The more you talk, the less resolved this all sounds," Elijah says, smiling at the end as if to smooth his words over.

"The more I think about everything, the more questions I have," I reveal, sighing. "But only one person can actually answer them, and besides the fact that he's never been one to provide any, there's no chance in hell we'll ever talk again."

Elijah's eyes flicker over my face, before he hums thoughtfully. "What if talking is exactly what you need?"

"Need for what?" I question.

"Closure. To be able to move on or..." Elijah lists before trailing off, voice growing lower and more hesitant as he adds, "to get past it."

"And by past it, you mean..."

Elijah swallows hard, seeming almost reluctant to speak. "Get back together."

I lean back, eyes widening. Get back with Jalen?! Elijah is out of his goddamn mind! "What?" I ask with a laugh. "Yeah, that's not happening."

"If you say so," Elijah says, sounding very unbelieving.

"I mean it," I say firmly, leaning forward again. "I'm not getting back with him. Hell, we were apparently never really together!"

He nods along, but it's clear in his eyes that he doesn't agree.

"Elijah," I call out seriously, shifting further forward. Our knees push into one another's again, and his eyes briefly flash there before coming back to mine. "I wouldn't get back with him. I can't. He's a liar."

Elijah sends me a smile, but this one's sad, and I'm going to assume the sadness is for me. "You still don't sound sure at all, Lyndon."

I let out a laugh, hoping he doesn't hear how forced the sound is. "Well, could you be one hundred percent about anything if you were in my position? I have so many unanswered questions, so many blanks in our none-relationship or whatever the hell it was. How could I ever sure about anything when it comes to Jalen?"

Ms. Fairful enters the room at that moment, and starts announcing the assignment for the day to the class. I want to ignore her and keep talking, but Elijah has different ideas as he faces forward, flashing me one last smile.

"Elijah," I say lowly, still not feeling like our talk is truly finished.

"I get it," he tells me, still smiling. "A lot of shit is unresolved, but if you say you're done, then I believe you."

My chest tightens again at his words, at being believed so easily. "Good, because I don't lie," I say jokingly, though I mean to throw major shade at Liar of the Year Jalen.

Oh shit, maybe Elijah's right. I'm still way too bitter. How can I ever get over it if I'm still so mad and hurt by Jalen?

Being mad and hurt doesn't mean I would go back, though. It just means I may need clarification, closure as Elijah said. But there's no way in fuck I'm going to Jalen for that. Fuck him and his lies.

He didn't lie about cheating.

Shit, that's right.

"Hey, do you have plans later?"

My head snaps back in Elijah's direction. His eyes are set on Ms. Fairful as she continues talking about our assignment, but they briefly glance at me, waiting for a reply.

"Uh, no," I say, not even sure if I do. What am I saying, of course I have no plans! I have no fucking friends! "I'm not busy. Why?"

He takes in a breath, and keeps his eyes completely forward as he replies with, "You want to hang out? Get your mind off all of this, or whatever?"

Is he asking me out? I don't miss the hesitancy in his voice, but there's also something confident in his posture. He's being entirely too cool about this. I don't understand.

"Sure," I reply, trying to be cool about it as well. Best to not overthink. "What'd you have in mind?'

"You can come by my place, maybe we can finish the Iron Man trilogy," he says, letting a small smile come to his face as he continues. "I still can't believe you'd never seen any of them, by the way."

My own smile comes at the reminder of when he found out. It threatens to fade as I remember the night he found out—when I was at his house, because my parents' messiness had me flee my home. And then after that, shit really hit the fan with Jalen.

I force those memories away, focusing on the teasing look on Elijah's face as he spares me another glance, and looks long enough to catch me childishly sticking my tongue out at him. "Sorry, but I'm a DC girl."

He rolls his eyes. "You can still have the common sense to appreciate both."

Shaking my head, I lightly shove him. "You haven't seen Justice League, so shut up."

His own hand lightly slaps mine, and the brief moment they touch, I feel my chest tighten once more. It's nothing like the way it has been the last few days when I think too long about everything that happened. This is different, but it makes me just as nervous.

Oh. Hell. No.

Thankfully, Ms. Fairfull comes over, saying something to me about skipping too many classes. I nod at her and say something along the lines of it won't happen anymore, but I'm not really paying attention.

I'm too busy feeling like shit over this new feeling.

━━━━━━━━━▲━━━━━━━━━

I'm nauseous the whole drive to Elijah's house—both from anticipation and nerves.

And excitement, so much of it. No, I can't... I won't feel this way.

Just as I turn the corner of Elijah's block, my phone rings. The song I had playing stops, and rather than the title and artist appearing on my screen is the incoming call. I hold my breath until the name appears.

Finally, the name Daniel Williams flashes across the screen.

My first instinct is to decline the call, but that'd be wrong. As I've been accepting, he didn't do anything wrong. No one but Jalen did.

I swallow hard at the reminder of him, seeing as I'd gone the last few hours trying to push him out of mind—especially because of where I'm going. But apparently, the blue eyed boy is too hard for me to shake... he always has been.

"Hi," I greet after answering.

"Oh my, you actually answered," Daniel calls out in shock. "Oh my gosh, Lyndon, hi! How are you? God, I've missed you!"

I pull over, tears rushing to my eyes at the tone of his voice. I almost forgot just how much I had actually missed him, too. His friendship was one of the more pleasant things I'd gotten out of New York, and I felt sad to think it was gone. Especially over something so dumb. He didn't do anything, only Jalen did... besides cheat.

I roll my eyes at my thoughts, then place the car in park and direct my full attention to the screen. "I... I missed you, too," I tell him, feeling my eyes water more. "And I feel so bad about how everything went down."

"No, don't even," Daniel quickly interrupts. "You have nothing to feel bad about."

"Oh, come on," I respond. "As much I'd love to think I was innocent, I did say some mean things the last time we spoke. And I certainly didn't add any positivity into your whole... situation with Noah. Which, by the way, what the fuck was that even all about?"

Daniel sighs heavily from his side of the line. "Girl, I don't even want to get into that right now."

"I understand, I'm just, you know, confused about it. I mean, seriously? You can do so much better."

His laugh echoes around my car, and it makes me smile. I missed this. "I think we both need help in picking who we're attracted too."

"Can't disagree with that," I say, letting out my own laugh. "We got shitty taste, man."

"At least your guy actually liked you, though." Daniel laughs once more, but I go silent at that. "Ugh, I ruined it. Lyndon, I'm sorry. I know it's a sore subject and you probably don't want to discuss it, but this is why I called. I want you to know I'm here for you, no matter what."

I nod even though he can't see me. "You don't need to be sorry, Daniel."

"Yes, I do," he argues. "Lyndon, I knew Jalen could be... a certain way, and I still sat back and watched as you guys—"

"Exactly, you watched, you didn't do anything to me," I tell him.

"Yeah, but I could have—"

"Daniel!" I call out over him. "You are not responsible for anyone else's actions, okay? Everyone's actions are their own, remember?"

His light laugh comes across the line once more. "Using my own words against me, damn it."

I smile fondly. "Your own wise words."

"I'm still sorry, though, and you can't make me not be," he says stubbornly.

Ugh, who is this right now? David? Just more proof that despite their wildly different personalities, they do have some similarities. They are related.

"Well, of course not. No one can make anyone do anything," I tell him, smirking.

"Haha," he says dryly. "Did you just memorize my whole speech?"

"I was inspired," I say teasingly, laughing again.

He joins in, before sobering up, and his voice is softer and serious as he says, "I want to do whatever I can to help you, though."

I bring a hand to my chest, touched by the sincerity in his tone. Oh my god, I almost ruined this over stupidity. "Being my real friend is more than enough."

"Real friends do something to help," he tells me, sounding determined. "Remember that."

His tone confuses me. He sounds too determined.

"Daniel?" I ask questioningly, unable to add anything more as I'm not entirely sure what it is I want to ask. What's going on? would be a good start.

"I have to go, Lyndon," he says, voice considerably lower than before.

He's whispering. Why is he whispering all of a sudden?

"I'm so happy we're okay, I really mean that, okay? We'll talk later, I hope," he tells me before the line goes dead.

Well, that was odd. But Daniel never honestly seemed all together in the head.

"Oh well, whatever," I tell myself as I place the car back in drive and continue heading to Elijah's.

I glance at the time and see I'm now two minutes later than I said I'd be thanks to Daniel's phone call, but I'm not mad about it. I needed to make it clear that we were on good terms, and he made it easier by being the first to reach out.

Elijah would definitely understand.

My hands grow sweaty as I park the car at the end of the driveway. Last time I was here, there had only been one there, and I assumed Elijah and his mother shared it. Now there's two. The other looks a little too youthful and sporty to really belong to either of them, but who am I to judge someone's car choices. Or anyone's choices in general—I clearly make terrible ones.

Like choosing to come here. Definitely a terrible choice. Am I gonna turn around and head home, though? No. I most certainly am not.

Whatever is waiting for me behind that door, I'm ready for it. Despite how my nausea grows with every step, I'm not turning away. I have no idea what's about to happen, but I feel sick, as if my intuition is preparing me.

Maybe I'm just overthinking Elijah's intentions and that's why I feel this way. Or maybe I know his intentions and am not okay with them, or worse, I am okay with them and I stupidly feel guilty, like I'm doing something wrong.

Or maybe it's something else. Hell if I know.

I raise my hand, knocking twice on the door before Elijah's voice calls out, "Coming!"

The door opens barely an inch, most of the inside and half of Elijah's body being blocked by it. "Fashionably late, like usual," he greets with a small smile.

Ignoring the butterflies at seeing the bandana on his forehead, pushing his wavy, light brown hair back, I focus on his teasing and purse my lips. "I'm not always late."

He opens the door a little more, but his body blocks most of the entrance still. "You've been on time to class three times out of the whole semester."

"Why are you clocking me?" I ask, raising a brow, but smiling to show I don't really care.

When his cheeks slightly tint pink, I realize I do care, but not because it upsets me that he was paying attention—it excites me.

Yikes, that's not good.

He smiles shyly, leaning against the doorframe, closer to me. I can feel the warmth radiating off of him even through my big coat. "There wasn't much else to focus on."

"Uh huh," I say, unconvinced. "So, are you gonna let me in or not? Because it's fucking freezing out here."

"Oh," Elijah says, eyes widening as if suddenly remembering something. He clears his throat and quickly leans away from me, cringing. "Sorry, sorry. Come in."

Once the door swings open, he fully steps out of my way, making sure we're nowhere near each other as we stand in the foyer.

Frowning at the sudden change in his body language, I enter the doorway when he motions for me to follow him. I keep my eyes on his back, watching as his muscles in his back move as he walks. Rather than having the chance to enjoy the incredibly hot sight, I take note of how tense his shoulders seem instead.

I shake my head and look to the floor, needing to get any incredibly hot thoughts out of my mind. It's not right, not with everything that's happened.

I look up, hoping Elijah's back is still to me. If not, he would definitely think I looked like a moron just now.

When I raise my head, however, Elijah's no longer in front of me. He's to the side, and I can catch his hand nervously scratching the back of his neck from the corner of my eye. But I can't fully look his way or register anything he does once my eyes land on those familiar blue eyes I haven't seen this close in what feels like forever.

My breath catches in my throat. It's crazy how it can feel like it's been years since I last saw him this close, yet not feel like it's been long enough. Dread and hope fill me all at once, and it's almost too much to take.

As his eyes find me, and he looks just as hesitant and on edge, I realize it's not almost too much, it is too much. No doubt about it.

"What the fuck is going on here?" I call out, quickly turning to Elijah, unable to look at him any longer.

Elijah swallows nervously, flashing me an unsure smile. "I, uh, said it seemed unresolved, and you agreed, so... um."

His sentence ends there, as it should. There's not much else he can say. The damage is done.

"Elijah," I say, feeling betrayed and no doubt sounding it. "This is..." Shaking my head, the words die in my mouth. "I can't believe this."

Elijah's eyes flicker to my side, obviously looking to Jalen for his input, but he stays quiet. Elijah then sighs and motions between us. "This is necessary, for both of you."

Sounds reasonable enough, seeing as Elijah is Jalen's friend and obviously mine. But the longer I look at him—because I refuse to look anywhere else—I get the feeling this isn't just done out of the goodness of his heart. It doesn't seem entirely for Jalen and I's benefit.

But what could Elijah possibly get out of this? How does Jalen and I talking, and resolving this mess, effect Elijah in any way?

"Lyndon, I..."

Any other thoughts leave me. My mind goes completely blank at the sound of his voice.

And the pain in it. God, the pain. Is it real? Or is he just that good of an actor?

"I want... I need to explain myself," he continues, the pleading tone in his voice almost impossible to miss.

I finally look his way, and feel my knees threaten to crumble under the intensity of his stare. His eyes seem lighter because of the dark circles under them. Am I the reason for them? No, who cares, it doesn't matter...

I should turn away. Leave. Forget about this, forget about seeing him. Forget about how full yet empty my heart feels at being this close, but not close enough to him.

But I can't. Despite every voice in my head yelling for me to go! I just can't.

Instead, I nod my head in acceptance.

The single action results in Jalen letting out a breath, looking briefly relieved before his shoulders tense once more.

From the corner of my eye, I watch Elijah silently leave the room. As he reaches the hall leading to the kitchen, I see the shadow of another figure. Holy shit, his mom is here and knows what's going on? But upon closer inspection, I catch a brief glimpse of Daniel patting Elijah's shoulder in reassurance.

Daniel was in on this, too? What even occurred to result in this happening?

I hear a door lightly close, and it gives me some hope that we're truly unable to be heard.

Dread builds in my stomach. Being alone with Jalen isn't exactly something I want.

I keep my gaze cast to the ground, even as Jalen clears his throat and calls out my name gently.

"Explain," I say in a clipped tone, still looking to the ground.

Feeling rather hearing the few steps he takes closer, I move and don't stop moving until I'm by the fireplace on the other side of the room.

The pictures scattered across the top of the fireplace are in the same exact places as they were the other night I was here. My stomach churns at the reminder of that, at the fact that I was here not too long ago, with Elijah, while Jalen and I were still dating.

Dating. Hm, were we really dating?

That thought makes the weird feeling leave, and definitely any guilt that was rising disappear. Couldn't have done anything wrong if none of it was never real, right?

"Well," I call out, letting an impatient tone coat my words. "You gonna explain or what?"

"Are you gonna look at me?"

It's the tone of his voice that actually makes my head snap his way. As much as I don't want to give him what he wants or follow his orders, I can't refrain from scowling at him.

He has some fucking nerve to even talk to me like that.

But the second my eyes find his, I realize there wasn't any animosity or anger. It registers that his voice cracked, and it becomes more clear how hurt he is the longer I look into those sad, sad blue eyes.

I feel my own face fall, a frown forming. No matter what, I don't want to see this boy hurt. That's clear as day to me. I never did.

You don't want the people you love hurting.

Love. I shake away the thought and feeling, focusing on Jalen again. I raise a brow, expecting him to speak. I sure as hell have nothing to say—not until he explains, as he claimed he wanted too.

"I've been wanting to talk to you, to be around you..." he begins, voice trailing as his eyes briefly glance down. When they come back to me, he sighs heavily. "I didn't want to tell you to leave that day."

His words from then, you should leave, echo in my head. As much as I want to argue and say it sure as hell sounded like you did, I bite my tongue. It's his turn to do all the fucking talking for once.

"I asked you to leave because I knew my dad wouldn't shut the fuck up any time soon, and I did not want you to hear him talking about you like that," Jalen says in a deeper voice, anger shining through. He takes a deep breath. "But you did hear some of the shit he said, and... he didn't lie."

A lump forms in throat, beginning to feel like there's something lodged in there making it hard to breathe properly. I heard what his father said, and I already know that it was all true, but to hear it from Jalen's mouth is... something else.

"Almost every rumor is true," he confesses in a lower voice, eyes going back to the floor. "The games, the girls..."

I turn away, having to look anywhere but at him. I feel pressure behind my eyes, the prickling of tears, but I will them away.

"I was bringing a different girl home all the time," he continues, voice sounding strained the longer he speaks.

Taking in a deep breath, I move to sit on the single seater couch. My legs feel too weak to hold my weight.

His legs move him closer, probably so he can talk low and know I can still hear. Once he's standing on the other side of the couch, he continues breaking my heart all over again.

But I need to hear it. I need this. Elijah was right. This is necessary.

"I wanted my parents and even Cortney's to see me with them. I hoped it would ruin their goal of marrying me off to her for money," he says bitterly. His voice takes on a more remorseful tone next. "I did sleep with some of them, though."

I shut my eyes, feeling extremely disgusted at the image of Jalen being with someone else. I swallow hard to hold back the nauseousness at the thought.

"In the end it never worked. All it ever did was make my parents push me towards Cortney more. But it did piss them off, and that made me realize that was all I really wanted." Jalen lets out a small chuckle, but the sound holds no humor at all. "I became okay with their plan. After all, there was no way to change it. My future was set in stone. But seeing them so angry whenever another girl was here? That was the best kind of revenge for what they were doing to me."

Keeping my eyes on the ground, I ponder this. No matter what Jalen's done to me, my heart will never fail to hurt when I'm reminded of his horrid childhood, and teenage years, and possible adulthood. No one should be controlled like this. It's disgusting.

"You're the..." he begins saying, pausing for a second, before clearing his throat. "Lyndon," he calls out gently, and it takes everything in me to keep looking down. "You were the first one to stick around in a long, long time."

Not sure how I should feel, I shut my eyes and breathe in deeply once more.

When he speaks again, his voice is softer and more gentler. "You were the first one Cortney's ever felt threatened by, and I took advantage of that." The shame in his voice feels like a knife to my heart. The fact that he knows it was shitty and did it anyway hurts. "She's never said one thing to me about any other girl I was with, but you and I had only spoken three times before she warned me to stay away. I hoped..." he pauses again, and I hear movement, but refuse to look up and see what it is. "I hoped you'd be the one to make her go to her parents and call the arrangement off."

Unable to take it anymore, I wave my hands, hoping he gets the message to shut the fuck up.

He continues though, saying, "She didn't do that, though. She just got angrier, hence why she went to you in the halls that day."

And why she had Noah dress like you.

"And that's why she tried finding out any dirt on your family that she could... which is why those rumors about your dad's affair leaked."

The guilt in his voice hits me hard, and I feel my head pound from what he's just revealed. She was responsible for that? I bring my hands to cover my eyes, already feeling the pressure of tears building. I can't hold it anymore. Hearing him confess what's he done doesn't resolve shit. It's only hurting me more. He was so aware of it all, he's a horrible person.

I hear more movement, but I refuse to look at him—ever again. I want to hate him. I want to hate him so badly.

"I am so, so sorry for all of this, and how much it hurts you. How much it's still hurting you and probably always will. I promise I'll leave you alone for good after this, but, I can't do that without... Lyndon, you..." he says, voice sounding closer as he speaks. I can clearly hear the inhale of breath he takes. "Lyndon, I fell for you. Hard. And I meant every word I ever said."

And that does it. I raise my head, finding those blue eyes shining only a few steps away from me.

It's like my heart breaks, rebuilds, and breaks all over again as we hold each other's gaze.

Jalen looks hesitant for a moment, but then his eyes search my face, and he must find whatever it was he wanted, because he takes a step forward. "I miss reading with you, or more like having you read a whole thesaurus to me while I just listened, and that was okay, because you didn't force me to repeat anything," he says, letting a small and sad smile form on his face. "I miss not having to play more than four notes on the piano for you, because you didn't care if that was all I knew."

My eyes water once more, but I don't bother hiding them anymore. I let a tear fall.

Jalen comes closer, gently seating himself on the edge of the coffee table placed in front of the chair I'm on. Our knees are a hair's length away from touching, and now this is the closest we've been in what feels like forever—but this time, it feels like it's been way too long since the last time. I don't move an inch away, and he seems to relax a little.

"I miss you, Lyndon," he tells me, voice sounding pleading. "I miss all of you. Everything about you. Even the constant questions that you've had every right to ask."

I swallow around the lump forming in my throat, letting another tear fall, and then another.

"I miss you so much," he repeats, raising a hand into the air, letting it hover my knee, before seeming to think better of it and retreat. "I know you're mad, and you have every right to be—"

"I am and I do," I manage to say in a firm voice. I sit up straighter, trying to gain some of my strength back. "I am so mad," I clarify, before my voice drops lower as I add, "but I'm hurt, too."

"I know, baby," he responds, causing my stomach to drop at the name. He says it so casually, as if it was natural—no thought put into it. "I'm sorry. I wish I could take it away, all of it."

Staring into his beautiful, sad eyes, I say, "I wish you could, too."

I watch as he shuts his eyes and then reopens them. They appear darker, and somehow even sadder. "Lyndon, I don't expect you to forgive me. I fucked up. I fucked up so bad."

Jalen shakes his head to himself, leaning back as he clenches his jaw and tightens a fist.

"Yeah, you did," I say, leaning forward, unconsciously wanting to be closer though I know being near him is the last thing I should want. "As for forgiveness, I don't..."

My voice trails off, as I can't complete the sentence. What is there to say? I have no idea. Could I forgive him? Could we move past this?

"I'm not going to push you," Jalen says quickly, holding up a hand. "I... I'm just grateful you even fucking let me speak right now. I half expected you to bolt right out the door the second you saw me."

"What did the other half expect?" I ask quietly.

A faint smile comes to Jalen's face. "For you to stay and hear me out. That curiosity of yours is hard to kill."

Just as I feel a smile coming to my face, I look away. I can't let myself be happy, even for a second.

That doesn't stop the fluttering in my stomach, or tingling in my chest. The feelings grow stronger as Jalen seems to lean closer, enough to keep a small distance between us. But it doesn't matter how much space is there, I'll always want more—and I'm starting to think he will, too.

He really wanted to be together. He... still wants to be together?

"What were you hoping would happen?" I ask, then raise a brow as I add, "Since you clearly knew this was happening."

"You want the realistic answer, or the foolish one?" he asks.

I take in a breath. "Both."

"Well, I foolishly hoped you'd throw yourself into my arms and forget anything was wrong," he quickly says, keeping his gaze on the ground. Shit, there's a chance that might still happen. "But, realistically, I hoped you'd at least let me explain, which I'm glad you did. I can't have you walking around not knowing everything, no matter how fucked up it all is."

Feeling the pressure in my heart grow, I try focusing on agreeing with being glad that I did hear him out. But I can't really voice that. I'm too busy refraining from crying, not from sadness, but because this confirms he did and still does want us to be together.

But I can't just accept that. I'm still me, I still need the clarification. Especially after everything.

"So, you actually wanted us to be together?" I ask, and right when he nods, I add, "And you want us to be together now?"

His eyes roam my face, before he nods again. "More than anything."

I let out a shaky breath. "I... um..."

"You don't need to say anything else," he tells me. "I know this is all... a lot. Like, a whole fucking a lot. And it's all my fault, so I don't deserve any definite answers, or any answers at all, for that matter."

As much as I want to agree, it's killing me to hear him blame it all on himself. Sure, he's done the most damage, but I still didn't believe him. When he provided me with a truthful answer, I refused to accept it.

"I know you didn't cheat," I quietly confess.

Jalen's brows furrow. "Huh?"

"I know you didn't do anything with Cortney on New Year's Eve," I clarify. My stomach goes into knots at the thought of him cheating at any other time, but that doubtful and incredibly insecure part of myself is pushed away. I wondered for so long if cheated, and I finally got my answer. Jalen needs to know. "I kept questioning you, and you kept saying you didn't, but I never believed you. Now I know."

"How do you..." Jalen begins asking, before shaking his head and moving closer. One of his knees goes between mine, and the feel of his simple touch spreads warmth throughout my entire body. "Doesn't matter. It's cleared up, so we can move on."

I nod my head, then quickly shake it. Are we just sweeping shit under the rug? I can't just move on from the games and the girls and the lies. That's a lot to ignore.

"Jalen, I can't just—"

"I meant move on from that one problem," he quickly clarifies. His hand reaches out for my knee again, and this time he actually places it on me. I don't try moving it. "I know we still have a lot more to handle. But I just want you to know that whenever you're willing to work this out, I'll be there."

My heart feels like bursting from the look in his eyes. His words from before come back. I meant every word I ever said. He said he I love you in the halls... did he mean that? Is that love in his eyes?

"I messed up before, but I won't again. It'll be different this time," he says, sounding really sure of himself.

I look away, not able to handle the intensity of his stare. But my eyes are quickly brought back to his when he lightly squeezes my knee.

"I mean it, Lyndon. I want this. I want us."

I can't help but nod my head and say, "I... I believe you."

That's probably the first time I've ever said those words to him, and actually meant them.

Jalen smiles, bringing his other hand up and reaching for mine. I let him hold it. Our fingers interlock, and his thumb lightly brushes over mine. I find myself leaning it, wanting to completely give in and throw myself into arms—just like he wanted.

But I stop from doing so, and I completely pull my hand away once I remember our situation and where we are.

He broke my heart, and now we're sitting here trying to resolve it, at Elijah's house.

The place in which I spent most of the night sitting much too close to another boy on this couch, something the boy in front of me knows nothing about. And I can't ignore any longer how wrong it felt, and why it felt so wrong.

Because it wasn't simply a friend being there for a friend. And during my drive to Elijah's house today, I wasn't preparing or expecting to spend a friendly movie night together.

I assumed, thought, maybe even hoped something more would happen. I think I wanted it.

Does that mean I have feelings for Elijah? I think so. Does that erase the fact that I still love and want Jalen? Not at all.

I remove my hand from Jalen's hold. I need time to process everything he's said, what he's confessed.

I decide to be honest and tell him just that. "I... I need time, Jalen."

He nods in understanding, leaning further away and removing his entire touch from my body. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

Just as I take in a breath and rise from the couch, Jalen does the same, and I can't ignore the spark I feel at our bodies barely touching.

I won't say it out loud, but I can say it to myself. I missed him. I missed him so much. And even now, as he stands here in front of me, I miss him more, because he isn't close enough.

"Whenever you decide, I'll be there," he says, eyes set on my own, tone sounding firm. "If you say you want to be together, I'll be there in a second, Lyndon. I mean it when I say I want this."

His sureness makes my breath catch. I choose to nod my head, instead of impulsively throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him—which is what I really want to do.

Maybe I can move past what he's done, because he ended up falling for me anyway, and all I ever wanted was confirmation that Jalen's feelings are genuine.

But even if I move past it, and we are able to try rebuilding our relationship and establishing some trust—it's a huge risk, I know—could I really just run back to him?

A large part of me says yes, you can, because through all the hurt and pain I've wanted nothing more than to be with Jalen. I love him. And yet, there's a smaller part of me saying no, you can't, because of the way I feel when I'm around Elijah.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

A / N:
HAPPY NEW YEAR! I hope everyone has a healthy & happy year!

The first update of 2020, woo! I'm really happy this is our first update for the year, because this chapter is my favorite, and I don't know if any other one will top it.

Jyndon shippers, Lynjah shippers—how are we feeling?

Remember we have NINE chapters left. A lot can still happen... see you (hopefully) soon with the next update. The fact that I've posted 3 days in a row is crazy. I need to keep this energy for 2020.