2 7
A Little Party Can Kill Somebody
Air.
I need fucking air.
Actually, no, what I need is to find Jalen sitting somewhere, with proof that he's been there this whole time, and not with...
I can't even complete the thought, let my mind wander to where those two went and what they're doing.
They kissed. And then left. What the fuck else would they go do, bitch?
I can't believe this is happening. It can't be real.
"Lyndon?"
My eyes go to Daniel, barely able to see him due to my cloudy vision.
I'm crying?
Of course I'm fucking crying. I just got cheated on for the second time in a matter of months.
Am I the problem? Is this my fault?
"Lyndon, hey, what happened?" Daniel's voice is soft and kind as he asks, but one glance at him and it's clear he's keeping his own tears at bay.
"I haven't seen Noah in over an hour," I tell him, trying my best to be helpful. One of us should at least have peace of mind. "Jalen went to talk with him and Cortney, and I haven't seen them since."
My throat tightens at the lie, since I clearly just saw Cortney with her fucking tongue down my boyfriend's throat.
"Where could he be?" he mumbles, seeming to talk more to himself than me.
My stomach is turning in knots, and the glass of champagne I downed earlier while talking with one of Jalen's family friends feels like it's coming back up on me.
I feel sick. Physically sick.
Hearing Daniel's problems and worries only eggs mine on more. I may sound like I'm being a real shitty friend, but I don't care. If I keep listening to his anxious voice wondering where Noah is, I'll throw up.
"Go find Rachel instead," I suggest, trying not to sound too pushy as I literally push him toward the ballroom.
"I guess I should confront her instead of believing rumors," he says thoughtfully.
Wise words. And even wiser idea. Maybe I should keep trying to find Jalen, and confront him, rather than automatically believing that was him with Cortney?
"But before you go," I begin, already regretting asking before the words are out. "Have you... seen Jalen?"
Daniel pauses, thinking it over, eyes squinting and brows furrowing as he tries recalling. "No," he finally answers, shaking his head. "Not since he was talking with Cortney and Noah earlier. They all looked mad. I haven't seen any of them since then."
Totally regret asking, because all that does is confirm that Jalen's been missing ever since he went to talk to Cortney.
This cannot be happening.
"Are you gonna be okay, Lyndon?" Daniel asks, reaching his hand out to touch my arm. I dodge it, wanting to be left alone. "Lyndon... did Jalen do someâ"
"Go find Rachel," I say, voice cracking. "Please, just go fix whatever happened. I'll be fine."
Daniel hesitates, but with another nudge toward the ballroom from me, he takes off, glancing back once to look at me with a concerned face, before continuing in, smart enough to know his own problems matter more.
Once he's gone, I stand still, taking it in.
And then, I cry. Tear after tear falls, and when I notice people glancing my way and how much harder it's getting to catch my breath with every drop that falls, I realize I need to get out of here.
I spot doors leading to balconies, lining up this entire side of the ballroom. There's four, so I quickly walk to the closest one.
I need air.
I yank the door open, not caring how it slams against the marble outside.
Taking in a large breath, I rush toward the railing, gripping it in my hands and letting the rest of my tears fall now that I'm somewhat in private.
Or at least I think I am until I feel the lightest touch on my back.
I jump at the contact, swirling around with a raised fist, but my hand stops mid-air when I see who it is.
"What are you doing out here?"
I cringe at how hoarse my voice sounds, and when he doesn't respond, instead letting those brown eyes wander over my face that's no doubt full of puffy eyes and runny makeup, I feel even worse.
"Wanna talk about it?" he asks gently, voice barely higher than a whisper.
My eyes close, opening once more to find his calm eyes still on me. I bring my hands to wipe stray tears, shaking my head.
Elijah nods his head, coming to stand next to me. His arms hang over the railing, letting me know that although he's agreeing to not mention it, that doesn't mean he's leaving me.
We stand there, staring out into the vast garden of the Uccello mansion. I didn't even know this was back here. I could only imagine how beautiful it looks during the day.
"I used to get lost in there." I turn to Elijah, almost startled by his voice after the quietness, and see he's nodding out toward the garden. "It goes on for miles and miles."
Looking out again, all I see is darkness. "I've never seen it."
Elijah glances at me, before returning his gaze to the garden. "It's full of a dozen different kinds of flowers. The rose bushes are here, and the lillies are over there. Tulips and carnations are on this side. They're the prettiest."
I follow where he's pointing, trying to picture the flowers in the various different spots. Right now, all I can see are bushes in the darkness, and it's completely misleading.
Just like Jalen.
Taking in a shaky breath, trying to fight off the next set of tears at the reminder of what he could be doing, I nudge Elijah lightly. "You seem to know a lot about this garden... and flowers in general."
"As I said, I got lost a lot," he confesses with a chuckle. "Had to start memorizing the different flowers so I could find my way out."
I try picturing it: a little Elijah running around the gardenâDavid, Daniel, and Jalen with him. It's so weird to think they're all friends. They're all so... different. One thing they have in common, however, is that they're full of a hell of a lot of surprises.
"So, you were over here a lot?"
He nods, glancing at me with a cheeky smile. "I spent a little too much of my childhood running around here."
"Just your childhood?" I ask, watching as he keeps his gaze locked on the garden, though there's really nothing to see.
"Things... change," he says quietly.
"Things change, or people change?" I prod, eyes fully on him now.
"I guess people change, too," he says with a shrug. Then he looks at me, quickly shaking his head. "But I didn't stop coming here because of any fights or whatever with the guys, if that's what you're thinking."
That's exactly what I was thinking. That Elijah was close with them as kids, but grew apart as they got older because he's a better person than them all. He's not someone who gives cryptic messages with the hopes of making someone doubt their relationship, and he's not someone who'll have their girlfriend constantly questioning everything.
...Or is he?
Appearances are deceiving.
"Then why are you never around the guys now?"
Maybe I'm prying, but I need to get my mind off of... other things. And as long as Elijah doesn't mind, I'm going to keep asking questions.
"I have other stuff going on," he answers vaguely. "We grow up and take on other responsibilities. Suddenly, hanging out, running around outside and causing trouble, doesn't matter anymore. It's not important."
I'm completely facing him now, no longer caring about the garden in front of us. Elijah's eyes remain there, though it's clear he can feel my stare with the way his shoulders tense.
"Well, what is important?" I ask in the softest tone I can.
I don't want to come off as pushy, but I'm dying to know what he means. Elijah's turning out to be just as much of a mystery as Jalen is.
Ugh, Jalen. Where are you? What are you doing?
"Family," is all Elijah says.
It's enough to make me shake away the thought of Jalen, and focus on him.
"Family?" I repeat in a disbelieving tone.
I can't remember a time where my family mattered more than anything else to me.
But maybe that's because my family isn't normal. Our situation is different than others. Maybe Elijah wasn't cursed with uncaring parents and insufferable brothers. Maybe he actually feels cared for and loved when he's at home.
Maybe they make him feel like he matters.
Must be nice.
All Elijah does is nod at my question, remaining quiet. His shoulders are still tense, and his focus has shifted from the garden to his hands, splayed out over the railing in front of us, tracing patterns I can't make out.
"I didn't realize you were so close with your family," I comment, stepping an inch closer to him. "You seem so... closed off? I don't know if that's the right way to explain it."
Elijah chuckles. "I'm closed off?"
"Kind of," I say with a nod. "Like I said, it's hard to explain. But you just never seem to be around, and you race out of school the second the bell rings. I was starting to think all you did was sleep, go to school and work, then sleep again."
He laughs again, eyes widening comically at my words in disbelief, before he sobers up and nods. "I mean, you're not wrong."
"Maybe I am. You're here tonight," I point out, lightly nudging him with my elbow.
"Yeah, but that's because..." he begins saying, before cutting himself off.
"Because, what?" I question, but Elijah's saved from answering due to the loud sound of laughter and cheers coming from inside the ballroom.
My stomach drops at the reminder of where we are, and why we're here.
Jalen, where are you?
Ignoring the sinking feeling in my stomach, I turn to Elijah again, finding his eyes already on me.
"I guess I'm just a lazy motherfucker," he jokes, but the humor doesn't reach his eyes.
I observe him for a moment, before saying, "I find it hard to believe you're lazy since you ace every test, work, and are known around the school as one of the best football players Arlin Prep has ever seen."
I pause for a second at Arlin Prep, wanting to smack myself for almost abbreviating it like all of these people doâlike Noah does.
Maybe I'm getting a little too comfortable here?
A blush comes across Elijah's cheek, and I find myself laughing, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest all of a sudden at how cute he looks right now.
"Aw, am I embarrassing you?"
He rolls his eyes, but the blush is still there, now joined by a small smile. "Stop before I go back inside."
I hold in my next round of laughter. "Okay, okay. I'm done."
It's silent between us for a few seconds, or maybe minutes, I don't know. All I know is it's comfortable and calming.
"Part of me missed this," Elijah says lowly.
It takes a second for his words to register, since I'd gotten lost in my own thoughts, but his words drag me back out and leave me as curious as ever.
"Missed going out?"
He nods, eyes directed back to the garden ahead of us.
"You sound like an old man thinking back on his youthful days," I say with a laugh.
Elijah shrugs, lightly laughing as well. "Maybe that's how I feel."
"Well, you shouldn't. If you wanna go out, then go out. I'm sure Crushed Oranges closes before 10pm, and that's when all these stupid ass parties start."
He glances at me, small smile creeping onto his face, before he shakes his head and it's wiped away.
I lightly nudge him again, standing by his side. "I'm sure your friends miss you, too. I certainly wouldn't mind seeing you at these things. It's nice to have a real friend around."
"Yeah," he says while nodding in agreement. "It is."
It really, really is.
"Okay. So promise me right now that you'll start coming out more?" I ask while holding out my pinky.
It's a childish habit of mine, one that causes Elijah to laugh again as he glances down.
"I won't make any promises, but I will try," he says while reaching his hand out and bringing it over mine, gently pushing it down.
I pout. "You're lame."
He fakes offense, raising a hand to his chest. "I am not lame. I'm responsible."
"Nah, that's a cop out," I respond, shaking my head. "You're only responsibilities are school and work, and you're managing those just fine. Just admit it, Elijah. You don't want to see me."
He pauses, watching me for a second, before turning to the garden again. "I wish those were my only responsibilities."
I sense a confession coming, a secret he's been keeping, and it makes me take one more step closer to him, arms brushing each other's and causing his eyes to come back to me.
"What is it?" I ask gently.
"I just... uh... need to be there for my mom, you know?"
No, I don't know.
"Why? Is she okay?"
He nods quickly. "Yeah, yeah. She's fine. It's just... I don't like leaving her alone for too long. That's all."
That doesn't sound like that's all.
"Um," I begin awkwardly. "But why? Like, is she usually alone all the time? And doesn't like it?"
I can't fathom the idea of giving up my free time to go and enjoy myself, in order to stay home with my mom.
Then again, everyone's different. Situations are different.
Elijah remains quiet, seeming to regret mentioning it at all. He's probably regretting coming out here and talking to me.
"Elijah," I say softly, reaching my hand to lightly touch his shoulder. "You can trust me."
I'm not entirely sure if that'll work. Trust is a tricky thing: hard to earn, hard to maintain, and even harder to get after losing it.
Trust is scary.
But I mean the words. Elijah can trust me.
"It's not some big secret, Lyndon," he says jokingly, turning his head my way. "It's just me and my mom, so, yeah, she's alone a lot."
I don't miss the sadness in his eyes, or what he's hinting at.
"Your dad?" I ask anyway, unsure of the reason for his absence.
"Dead," Elijah answers rather bluntly. He must notice my widened eyes, because he backtracks, adding, "It was a long time ago. I barely remember him."
I nod in understanding, though my stomach's churning again. Death scares me. Losing the people I love scares me.
"But your mom remembers him," I state the obvious, then add in a questioning tone, "That's why you try being at home as much as possible...?"
Elijah nods. "Yeah. I don't like knowing she's alone in the house. It makes me feel better being there for her."
I wonder if it makes her feel better. If she's okay with Elijah feeling obligated to keep her company. But I refrain from asking. Obviously, this isn't the time for anymore questions.
"I'm sorry," I tell him.
Elijah lets out a laugh. "Sorry for what? You didn't do anything."
"Well, I brought it up and kept asking," I say. "But I'm also sorry that you had to go through that. That you still have too. You don't deserve it."
"It's okay, Lyndon. I'm okay," he quickly responds.
"Of course you are," I say. "But it's still sad."
Elijah looks ready to object, or make another joke to avoid talking about it anymore, but I stop it all when I reach my arms out and collect him into them.
He's hesitant at first, but slowly relaxes into my embrace, going as far as to wrap his own arms around me in return.
The hug is warm and comforting, and for the briefest second, I feel like we're in a bubble that's protecting us from the outside world.
I feel Elijah let out a heavy sigh, and that seems to be the only form of admittance he'll ever give on how much his father's passing truly affected him.
It makes me pull my head back just enough to find his cheek and plant the softest kiss.
Just as Elijah's eyes find my own and I feel my palms getting sweatier, the balcony door swings open, knocking into the marble wall aggressively.
We turn at the same time and take in the sight of a pissed off Jalen Uccello.
I can't tell who the scowl on his face is directed at due to my embrace with Elijah. That makes my arms drop from him, and he quickly follows, going as far as to step away from me.
Jalen's hardened eyes follow Elijah until he's further from me, then his gaze meets my own.
"I've been looking for you," he announces in a hard tone.
"For how long?"
Jalen's head tilts at my tone, not expecting the hostility. This only causes his scowl to deepen as he takes a step closer. "Have you been out here this entire time?"
The way he says it makes me feel like what he really wants to ask is Have you been with Elijah this entire time?
And that eggs my anger on. How dare he?
"I'd rather talk about where the hell you've been, Jalen," I say in a loud voice.
"I've been fucking looking for you." He takes a step closer, making my heart feel like a jackhammer. I've seen Jalen mad before, mostly around his parents, but it's never directed at me. "How long have you been out here?"
I swallow hard, bracing myself for our impending argument. I'm stuck between being caught off guard by his anger and dealing with my own.
I decide the safer bet is to focus on my own, rather than fearing or worrying about his. There's no reason to. He did something wrong, not me.
"So you're saying you didn't know where I was all this time? That means you haven't been in the ballroom for the past hour. Where were you, Jalen?"
Jalen's eyes narrow, jaw clenched so hard I'm surprised his teeth haven't shattered.
"I had to deal with something," is his answer.
I let out a humorless laugh. "Wow, okay. That's it?"
He lifts one shoulder, then drops it in a half shrug. His nonchalance over that vague ass answer pisses me off more than I already was.
I march forward, stopping when there's a few inches between us. Raising my finger to his chest, I push hard and say, "You're gonna have to do a lot better than that. You don't disappear for over an hour and come back with that."
Jalen's eyes flitter over my head before quickly coming back to me, a newfound anger burning in them. "Now is not the time to test me, Lyndon."
Oddly, I prefer seeing him mad over the blank-faced person that briefly came out two seconds ago.
Is that bad?
"Stop giving me reasons to test you, Jalen," I reply, spitting his name out the same way he did mine.
"I'm not," he says defensively, shaking his head. "You're theâ"
"You always give me a reason," I cut him off.
His jaw ticks as he takes in a breath before stating in a warning tone, "Lyndon..."
I raise my hand up, cutting him off once more. "Don't say my name as if I did something."
This makes Jalen take a step closer, raising his own hand up as if he's about to make a point.
From the corner of my eye I catch movement, making me remember Elijah is still out here with us.
As if realizing he's caught my attention, Jalen's own eyes flicker toward him, too.
"Mind giving us some space, bro?" he asks Elijah in a hard tone.
It's clear Jalen's struggling to keep his cool, and though a large part of me doesn't give a fuck because of how pissed I am, another part of me is worried.
I've heard too many rumors about Jalen and his short temper. I'm hoping those rumors are just as untrue as all the others seem to be.
When Elijah doesn't respond, I look toward him once more, noticing his eyes on me. Without a word, I can tell he's hesitant to leave us alone.
Jalen moves forward, blocking half of me from Elijah's view. This brings Elijah's eyes back to him.
"Are you both sure..." Elijah begins asking, making sure to emphasize the word.
"Yes. Please leave, Elijah," I answer.
His eyes find me again, so I send a small smile, hoping to soften the words and ease whatever worries he has about leaving.
This makes him nod once before looking to Jalen again, reaching a hand to lightly tap his shoulder as he passes. Once he's gone, I wrap my arms around myself, realizing just how cold it is out here.
Jalen's back is still to me. He rolls his neck and shoulders, seeming to release some of the tension. He sighs heavily, slowly turning to face me. Annoyance is still present on his face, but the anger I saw in his eyes has dimmed.
"You had to deal with something?" I ask, figuring I might as well guide the conversation. God knows he never would.
"Yes. Sorry I disappeared," he answers in a deep voice.
I appreciate the apology, though it's not as sincere as it could be. And there's also the whole shady vibes he's giving off.
"What were you dealing with?"
His gaze moves to wall behind me. "It's not important anymore."
I motion with my hands for him to elaborate. "I still want to know."
"Lyndon," he says with a sigh.
"You vanished into fucking thin air. I want to know where you went."
"It's nothing you need to worry about," he dismisses with a wave of his hand.
I let out another laugh. "Unbelievable. Why are you acting like this?"
"Acting like what?" he asks, volume increasing again. "Annoyed with your constant fucking questioning? Annoyed that you're back to acting like my parole officer?"
"Wow," I say while shaking my head. "So now I make you feel trapped?"
Jalen turns toward the garden, rolling his shoulders again. "Now you're putting words in my mouth."
"I have to, seeing as you never say anything," I say defensively.
"You asked a question and I answered. What more do you want from me?" he asks, though the question sounds rhetorical.
I bite my lip, struggling to stop myself from pushing him right off this fucking balcony. Or punching him. Both options aren't good, but they're better than what I really want to do: cry. I feel my eyes stinging with unshed tears that I try my hardest to fight off. Not because of his tone or turning his back to me, but because of what it could all mean, what his vague answers are leading me toward.
I take in a deep breath, bracing myself for an answer I'm not even sure I want.
"Were you with Cortney?"
That makes Jalen slowly turn to face me, allowing me the chance to see his facial expression. Like always, nothing is shown. His face is blank. But his eyes are squinted, as he observes me the way I am him.
"Just be honest. There's no reason to lie to me," I say in an even tone, hoping sounding nonchalant will make him think I'll be okay with his answer.
Maybe if I convince myself I'm okay, I will be. Maybe this is the best case scenario: he goes back to Cortney, and I get a clean break from him and his drama.
But would it really be a clean break? Could I really walk away with no damage right now? I should be able too, right? After all, we've only been officially together for a few weeks.
Why does my chest feel tighter the longer he looks at me, though? Why does the thought of him actually being with her hurt me?
Because it won't be a clean break. I'm too far deep in this, and I have been for a while.
I swallow hard. My eyes begin to sting again. I wish he'd just fucking speak.
"No."
My eyes flicker up, finding his. "Huh?"
"No," he repeats, blank face still in tact. But the muscles in his jaw tick the longer we stand in silence.
I open and close my mouth, trying to comprehend. It doesn't make sense.
"You weren't with Cortney?" I ask, then add, "You both just disappeared for the same amount of time, but you weren't together? You were dealing with something you won't tell me about?"
His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, jaw clenching once more. "I wasn't with her."
I shake my head. "Then where were you? What were you doing?"
"You don't believe me?" he asks in a lower voice, using a gentler tone.
For a second, my heart softens at the hurt in his eyes and voice.
Then that second passes.
Because I wouldn't have a problem believing him if he would give an actual answer.
"The whole thing is sus," I say firmly. "I saw Cortney kiss someone who looked a whole fucking lot like you, then walk off together. And you just so happen to disappear after that? Then you come with no actual answer as to where you were? Come on, Jalen."
Saying it all out loud succeeds in assuring me that this is not my fault. This is on him. But it also brings a weight to my chest, because saying it out loud makes it sound all the more real.
He cheated on me. Holy motherfucking shit, he did cheat on me.
Jalen's eyes widen, and I can't tell if it's from being caught or shock at the accusations. He shakes his head. "I didn't kiss Cortney, and I definitely was not with her, Lyndon. How can you not believe me?"
Is he trying to guilt me? Or is he being honest?
"Just tell me where you were and I will," I tell him. Not too sure if I'll buy whatever answer he gives, but it's worth a shot.
He pauses, then sighs. "I don't want to talk about it."
"You can't be serious," I say. This is the chance I'm giving him to defend himself, and he pulls this shit? "I'm not even asking for concrete proof, even though I should because I literally saw you kiss her, Jalen! All I'm asking is for you to give me an answer, and you can't even do that?"
My voice rises with every word, making me sound hysterical towards the end, but I can't help it. I feel like Jalen doesn't care, like he really did cheat, and it hurts.
"Weird that you saw me kiss her because I didn't," he says defensively. Then his tone softens once more as he adds, "I don't want to talk about the past hour. Clearly it's been a shitshow for us both. Let's move on."
Though he softened his voice, it's clear he's struggling to keep his anger at bay. Did something actually happen, and that's why he doesn't want to talk about it? Or is he just mad he got caught?
"I'd say my past hour has been more than a shitshow, considering the fact that I was cheated on, or at least made to feel like I was. Do you understand how horrible that feeling is? And then to have you lie to me about it? If you didn't kiss her, who the hell did?"
"Hell if I know!" he yells, that angry scowl coming back to his face. "But you want to talk about how horrible that feeling is? Imagine how I felt coming out here to find you with Eli."
"What?" I ask, confused and mad. "First of all, I've actually been cheated on before. So you can't possibly know how bad that feeling is compared to me. And second, why are you dragging Elijah into this?"
His face softens when I mention my past relationship, but the anger comes back in full force at the mention of Elijah.
"You thought you saw me kiss Cortney and freaked out," he begins, speaking in an even tone, as if he's stating facts. "How is that any different than finding you wrapped around Eli like a fucking octupus?"
My eyes widen as I wildly shake my head. "Those two things aren't even remotely the same!"
Jalen lets out a bitter laugh. "Interesting. I wonder what would have happened if I didn't show up when I did."
"He would've continued being a good friend to me while I tried to keep myself together as my boyfriend slept with someone else!"
"It went from me kissing Cortney to fucking her? Wow," he announces in a dry tone. "Good to know you wasted no time at all running to him, though."
"There was no running," I say defensively, crossing my arms, ignoring the goosebumps from the cold. "I was mad and hurt because I saw you kiss her. Elijah just happened to be there, and was nice enough to talk to me. Don't compare the situations. My parents aren't making me marry him."
I don't miss the glare Jalen sends my way at the comment, but it's the truth. His parents are literally auctioning him off to Cortney. Elijah's just my friend.
I did nothing wrong.
Or did I?
There's a pit in my stomach at the thought. Did I feel better when I saw him earlier, as we danced, and here on the balcony? Yes. But does that mean anything Jalen's implying? No.
It just means I can seek out Elijah to bring me comfort, even some happiness.
More so than my own boyfriend.
Oh fuck.
That sick feeling in my stomach grows, making my legs feel weak and unsteady.
Jalen sighs heavily, taking a step toward me. He brings his hands to my arms, gently touching me. "Lyndon, Iâ" he says before cutting himself off. "You're freezing."
He quickly removes his suit jacket, draping it over my shoulders. Stepping closer, he allows me to feel his body heat, and I suddenly want nothing more than to throw myself into his warmth and ignore everything that's just happened.
But the nausea I'm feeling the longer I picture both Cortney and Elijah in my head stops me from doing so. I feel so dizzy.
"Hey," Jalen calls out softly, bringing a finger to my chin to lift my head. "Are you feeling okay? Baby, do you want to go inside? Or... do you want me... to leave you alone?"
My stomach churns at the nickname baby, how naturally he used it, almost as if he didn't even realize.
It makes me realize I don't want him to leave me alone, but I also don't want to be with him. Too much has happened. He doesn't even know the toll tonight has taken on me, on our relationship.
I take in a deep breath, trying to gather myself, push away all those other thoughts.
"I want..." to be with you without all of the drama... "I want to go inside."
He nods, dark blue, worried eyes examining me. "Come on."
Jalen places a hand to my back lightly, wanting to keep me upright, but clearly hesitant to be more firm. He reaches around me to open the door, and we step in, the warmth of the ballroom slowly reaching us.
I slip my arms through the sleeves of his suit jacket, letting Jalen's intoxicating smell envelope me. I ignore him watching me pull the jacket tighter against myself.
It's hard to ignore the small, content smile on his face at the sight of me in his jacket.
And he must notice my struggle, how badly I want to smile too, but I can't because everything is so up in the air.
Isn't it always?
Jalen's smile fades as he looks to the ground. Then he raises his head, pinning me to my spot with those beautiful, blue eyes.
He opens his mouth, but his voice is overpowered by someone else's.
"Holy shit! Daniel Williams is gay?"
At the same time, our heads whip in that direction. A group of people I vaguely remember seeing at school are standing to the left of us, drinks in hand as they talk loudly.
"You really believe that? Why would he even hide that? Who gives a shit?"
"Scouting agents? The coach and principal?"
"Yeah, a gay quaterback isn't exactly the norm around here."
"And the fact that he's in love with Jalen, and tried bribing Rachel to fake date him just to hide it is kind of crazy."
"True! Who would go that far to hide their truth?"
"Meanwhile he's always preaching about being honest when those NFL scouts come? He's so fucking fake."
"Hey," Jalen barks out, tone hard and pissed off glare on his face. "Where the fuck did you hear all of that bullshit?"
"Uh, we, uh, heard from... some other kids," one of the guys stutters.
"No shit. That's how word gets around," Jalen says sarcastically while taking a threatening step closer to the boy. "Now, who did you hear it from? Point them out."
The boy quickly points out another group of people, and two minutes later, we're reaching a girl I recognize from my AP Calc class.
For someone who doesn't like giving answers, Jalen sure is good at getting them.
"Jennifer, what happened?" I quickly ask once we reach her, knowing she's one of the few who don't fawn over Jalen. We don't have time for him to scare it out of her.
She looks at me with wide eyes. "Girl, you haven't heard?"
"Clearly not," Jalen comments in a hard tone.
I grab his arm, silently telling him to shut the fuck up. He responds by stepping closer, mistaking the touch as forgiveness.
"Rachel was so embarrassed when you called her out, which by the way, good for you, girl! She's been trying to steal your man all this time. I really don't know what she thought she was gonna accomplish by stealing your dress instead..." she trails off, before snapping her fingers. "But anyway, what was I saying?"
"Rachel was embarrassed," I supply, urging her with my hand to continue.
Jalen rolls his eyes, looking around the ballroom. His eyes scan the crowd, most likely looking for Daniel or even David.
"Oh, right! So she was super embarrassed and said she wanted someone else to feel that way. That's when she dropped the Daniel is gay bomb! She told us all this shit. How he's been in love with Jalen and sabotaging all his relationships or any time he talks to a girl. She even mentioned him trying to bribe her to fake date him. Like, first off, who even does that kind of shit?"
On cue, Jalen and I glance toward each other, before my eyes go back to Jennifer and his to the crowd.
"Right, that's dumb," I comment before asking, "But why would Rachel do that to Daniel? He didn't even do anything to her. It was me!"
Jennifer shrugs. "I guess she wanted to push the spotlight onto someone else. After you left, everyone kept talking about her, laughing and pointing at her. It was super childish, but also kind of fucking funny."
"None of this is funny," I say in a low tone, letting my eyes glance over the crowd, watching as they all laugh about Daniel being outed.
This is horrible.
"I don't see him," Jalen says, eyes still flickering around the ballroom. "I'm gonna look around. Maybe he's upstairs. Or hopefully he's with David."
Jalen glances at me, keeping his eyes focused on me until I realize he's looking for my... permission?
I nod my head, and that seems to be what he needed to leave. My permission.
I can't even focus on what that means, if I should make a list and file it under Proof He Cheated or Proof He Didn't Cheat.
All I see is Jalen walking away, into the ballroom filled with hundreds of Arlin Preparatory students spreading all of Rachel's words.
This is so, so horrible.
Whatever reasons Daniel had for wanting to keep this a secret were his, and his only. Only they mattered. This was his truth, and it shouldn't have been taken from him.
But it was. And it's all my fault.
Unable to take the sounds of my schoolmates unkind laughter and words, I take off, rushing up the staircase and down the familiar halls until I reach the one room in this mansion I know: Jalen's.
His sheets are undone and messy, and that makes me move quicker, rushing to the destination I didn't even realize was where I was trying to reach.
I slam the bathroom door shut behind me, locking it before quickly lifting the toilet seat and letting out every drink I downed, along with every damn thing that's gone wrong tonight.
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A / N:
Hi! The next chapter is finally here! I am so sorry for the wait. Hope it was worth it... even though nothing was really solved? Then again, last chapter was messy, so were we really expecting any answers? I'll hopefully have the next chapter written and posted later this week. I want to start working on / posting other stories, which means finishing HST is my main priority right now! We've got about 13-15 chapters left? There's still a lot of story to be told! Hope you're all enjoying!!