FINALLY. I'm back! Cody Christian in the media, casted as Cole Atlass. (used to have Cody casted as Whittney, so don't get confused).

Won't keep you any longer... Enjoy!

I let out an agitated groan when I'm robbed of my covers. Chills crawl up my whole body and goosebumps spread over my exposed skin.

"This is getting pathetic," Andrew growls. "You are going to school today."

"Can't I just stay home one more day?" I mumble, digging my face further into my pillow.

"It's been three days. This pity party has gotten old. You need to grow up." He sighs, the sound of him grabbing something from my nightstand perks my ears. "And learn that not even the best Bourbon can absolve self-loathing. Believe me, I've tried."

No reply comes from my lips. I roll over, hoping he'll just leave me alone. If there's anyone who deserves a break after these last few weeks, it's me.

Glass shatters, and my eyes spring open when I bolt upright. "What the fuck!"

A tight grip finds my arm and I'm dragged out of bed. When he finally lets go, my arm is throbbing and I crumble to the floor. My legs must still be sluggish from living on sleeping and drinking the last few days.

"You are going to school today, and that's it! No more of this behavior." He stands up straight, looking down at me with a demeaning glower. "Whatever you did, you live with it. You don't lay around feeling sorry for yourself. Man up, and act like a Griffin, for Christ's sake."

On that note, he exits the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I can still hear more degrading comments being thrown my way by my father's ghost, telling me I'm just like him, but weak.

He's right.

I reach for the bottle that is still sitting on my nightstand, taking a swig before kneeling to pick up the broken glass on the floor. After I've thrown the pieces in the trash, I look through my closet for something to wear - bottle in hand. With every moment that passes, my determination to listen to my father's harsh words slips with every sip I add to the collection that's settled in my stomach.

Sighing, I put the bottle down. Showing up to school drunk is the last thing I want to add to my problems.

No effort is put into my appearance today. I throw on a sweatshirt with the school's insignia on it, and a random pair of jeans. My hair's a mess, but putting in the effort to style it was not on my agenda for today. I just brush my hand through it a couple times to get the knots out and check my phone before heading upstairs.

There are multiple missed calls from Dax, which I have been ignoring. My bruises still ache from the beating I didn't deserve, and there's no way he's hearing anything from me until I can cough or laugh without wincing.

Andrew eyes me when I walk into the kitchen.

"You're going like that?" He takes a sip of his morning coffee, eyebrows raised. "You look like shit."

I roll my eyes and he stands. Sandra sits at the dining table, glancing carefully between the two of us. She's been uncharacteristically quiet these past few weeks, like the whole world will come crashing down around her if she so much as speaks a word.

When I grab my keys, Andrew swipes them from my hand.

"Not so fast," he says. "I'm driving you to school."

"I can drive myself," I huff, trying to take my keys back.

He pulls away so that they are out of my reach and I grunt.

Andrew laughs. "Not in your condition. Plus, it'll give us time to talk."

"Since when are you a talker?"

A heavy sigh comes from my father, making the air in the room seem thicker and doubling with every second as the tension spreads.

"Since I figured one of these days might be the last I see my son."

The ride to school starts off with an uncomfortable silence. Father's eyes only focus on the road and his grip on the wheel turning his knuckles white. For a while I think that the talk he wanted to have is suddenly off the table, making this whole drive pointless, but he clears his throat and glances at me.

"How are your ribs?"

"I'll manage." I remove some of the pain by relieving the pressure of my seat belt.

"Good, because you are never going back there." Andrew's words sound final and his serious expression is unwavering.

My eyes widen. "What are you talking about?"

Andrew huffs, not hiding his disappointment. "I have given you so many opportunities to resolve this Dax problem on your own. I even gave you the money so they wouldn't kill you. This is obviously too much for you to handle, so I'm taking care of it from here."

"Dad, come on. Just give me one more chance." My voice is filled with panic, but he remains silent. "Dad?"

"This conversation is over."

"But you-"

"Austin! If you do not stop fighting me on this, I will stop this car, and you won't like what'll happen when I pull over."

We don't exchange any type of conversation for the remainder of the ride to school. He drops me off at the front, leaving without so much as a goodbye, or a 'have a good day at school', though that's not surprising.

I throw my bag over my shoulder and make my way towards the school, then through the front doors.

Cynical eyes from multiple faces glance at me as I walk by.

The longer I walk through the halls, the more the stares start eating at my curiosity. I may have been absent for the past few days, but that wasn't exactly unheard of. Even then, people talk, and at Cromwell, people talk a lot.

My bruises, that still have a long ways to go before they fade, will only add to the gossip that is sure to be going around. The black eye and split lip will not go unnoticed. They'll surely act as a blinking arrows towards my face saying: 'This guy got the shit kicked out of him.'

I wish I could made the comeback of 'You should see the other guy,' but that would only be another lie.

No.

No more lies.

Not to make myself look better.

Everything I've done. Everything I am. There is no point in trying to get people to think I am any better than that. I'm a disappointment. I'm weak. I'm toxic for the only woman I've ever cared for.

I'm not worth the effort.

Though my face is painted with failure, and my heart clouded with self-hate, I saunter down the halls as if I own them. No one will see a hint of my fragile state. They'll think I'm arrogant. Heartless.

Let them.

When I reach the cafeteria, I spot my group immediately. Rodney and Brett are civil again, even joking around. The shocking secret that Ryan Berkley, A.K.A. Rodney Reid's greatest enemy, spilled weeks ago, forgotten. All is forgiven. At least, it seems so.

Cole and Jameson are the first to spot me when I get to our table, and I acknowledge them both with a nod.

"Hey, man." Cole pulls me in after grabbing my hand. "How you holding up?"

Confusion racks my brain for a moment, but then I remember the state of my face. "Oh, yeah." I chuckle nervously, rubbing my jaw. "Still a bit sore."

Cole frowns. "That's not what I-"

"Look who finally decided to show their ugly-ass at school," Rodney says, cutting Cole off. He shoves me playfully, but there's a hint of anger in his eyes. "Thanks for answering our calls, bitch."

My eyes momentarily find Bradley's and I close them when memories I don't want come flooding back. It doesn't help, but that doesn't surprise me since bottle after bottle didn't either.

"Hey, don't worry about it, man," Rodney continues. "I mean, no one's going to listen to that shit, anyways."

A shiver runs down my spine. "What shit? What are you talking about?"

The color in Rodney's cheeks drains. He's speechless, but Cole's voice fills the void.

"Dude, he hasn't heard."

"How hasn't he?" Jameson asks.

"Right? I mean, it's all over school," Brett says.

"Guys! What haven't I heard?" I look around frantically, my gaze shifts from one person to another, until it lands on Bradley.

There's a look in his eyes that screams 'Checkmate'.

Blank faces stare back at me. Not one person dares to speak out. What could be so terrible that the words can't even leave their mouths?

"You hit your girlfriend, asshole," Bradley spits, not at all conflicted about voicing the accusation.

In that moment, I'm frozen. My muscles are screaming at me to run away, but my brain has shut down. Every neuron in my body is at a complete stand still. I try to swallow, but my mouth is completely dry.

His words were like searing hot knives.

Suddenly, the room starts spinning. Air becomes scarce as my lungs feel like they're shrinking. With my hands at my sides, all my rage curls my fingers. Heat rises to my cheeks and my nails dig into my palms. My ever present feeling of dread is clawing its way to the surface again, making its presence hard to ignore.

Everyone's eyes are on Bradley, shock registering in all of them - it seems that no one saw his bluntness coming. No doubt we've attracted the attention of others now, too, but I don't dare look.

"I didn't-" I say, but the lump in my throat stops me. Swallowing deeply, I decide to take the offensive. "You don't know what you're talking about, Stuart."

Wary eyes shift between Bradley and me, as wide as saucers.

"Don't I, though?" Bradley, usually calm and collected, is now seething.

He takes a couple steps forward so that we're almost nose to nose, but Rodney comes in between us.

"Whoa, man. Hold up," Rodney says, turned towards his cousin. "Amber is a lying cunt. You know she's always pulling stories out of her ass."

"Yeah," Cole agrees. "Plus, Amber hates Austin. Of course she'd make up something like this."

"Hold up. Amber said this?" My small flare up goes unnoticed.

Bradley scans the whole group, eyes skeptical. "Are you guys serious right now? You really think she'd lie about her best friend getting abused?"

"Come on, Brad." Rodney reaches for him, but gets pushed back.

"Don't," he warns. "She wouldn't lie about something like this."

"I've had enough of this," I say, turning on my heel.

Rodney follows close behind. "Where you going, man?"

"I'm gonna talk to Amber." I don't look back when I speak. "I'm finding her and settling this."

He grabs my arm. "You sure that's a good idea?"

When I yank my arm from his grip and look him in the eyes, the realization makes me take a couple steps back.

"Un-fucking-believable." A harsh chuckle escapes my lips and I rake my hand through my unruly hair. "You think I did it, don't you?"

"Look, Austin." Rodney's hand rests on my shoulder. "I don't care about what you did or didn't do, alright? You're my friend, not Sabrina. I protect you. Don't want you doing something you'll regret, man."

Stretching my arms out at my sides, I smile ironically. "About three years too late for that."

A buzzing in my back pocket distracts me from whatever Rodney says next. The caller ID says Dax and a bubbling hot rage tears at my throat. This is all too much to take for so early in the morning.

"What?" I can't stop the animalistic snarl in my voice.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I wait for an answer.

"I have a surprise for you." There is a hint of a smile shining through his glib tone.

"I really couldn't give a shit right now, Dax." My voice is dry, emotionless.

There's a long pause, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, kid," he drawls sardonically. "Do you have any idea what I can do right now?"

"Yeah." I smirk. "You can go fuck yourself."

Then I hang up.

***

Phew. Now that we have the stressful chapter out of the way... I can apologize. So, my laptop was out of commission for about a month and that's why my writing was lacking even more so than usual. With only 4 chapters left (anywhere from 4-8 parts, depending on how fast/slow I write), we're getting to the climax.

So much happens in this chapter, and I'd love to know what you think! Leave a comment, or maybe even a vote. Let me know what you think, because that's always motivation for me to get chapters out faster.

Til next time,

TheWriterD