There's little hesitation and caution in Chase's next movements; no room for doubt in any of it. This was a special magic, a byproduct borne from years worth of impenetrable friendship. Special things like this always withstood the trials of a few measly years. At least they should have. In theory.

In the case of me and Xander, that special bond had been broken.

Chase glances at his phone, blissfully unperturbed. His screen flashes with the time he's checking for, his actions nonchalant; like he's got all the time in the world.

What he didn't know only hurt me.

"Sounds good," he says. The grin he offers Xander is familiar and boyish, a relic of the past still used in the present. He glances at us both transiently, quick to leave. The act of it is unknowingly traitorous, but I have too much pride to reach for him and beg him to stay.

I am not so weak that I would depend upon a human barrier against the boy that shattered my heart and walked away to let me clean up the mess.

"Bianca," Xander says quickly, all too aware of how fragile and fleeting this chance is.

He still knows me well; I can see it in the way his eyes search my face, perusing the signs he'd learned to read ages ago. He reaches for my hand, and I'm too slow to avoid him.

The truth is that I've always been weak when it came to Xander and Chase; they were more to me than most anything was. That's why the loss of them had hurt the most.

I retreat: a step back, a yank of the arm. It's worth nothing; his grip is iron, his skin warm on mine, a reminder of something we haven't been for awhile.

"Let go," I say, but it's weak and we both know it. My voice is cold but there's no venom there. I am glad, at least, that my voice hasn't wavered. If it had, it would become all too clear how weak I am, how much I dread dealing with any of the past—our past.

I glare, but my eyes cast downwards at the place of contact. His hand is a cuff around my wrist; his fingers can probably feel my pulse. He knows that I'm avoiding his eyes. He has to.

I tug, another weak-hearted attempt at escape, and in return, he grips both of my hands with his own. They engulf mine; hard to ignore and hard to pull away. I️ frown, take another step back. But I still won't look up.

Perhaps I am more of a coward than I thought.

"Just hear me out for a few moments, okay?"

It's a very soft request, very easy to fulfill for a boy I once loved. I don't have to see his face to imagine what sort of expression sits on it, though somewhere, in the back of my head, I wonder if it has changed in the years of our separation.

The thought blooms, spreading like weeds in their nature: dangerous to the rest of the inhabits and stubborn to a fault. I hesitate for a moment, still quiet and eyes still downcast, but it's when he squeezes at my hand that my gaze finally flits up.

Xander Sharpe had always been gorgeous. Boys like him only ever get prettier, especially after you haven't seen them for ages at a time.

Xander looks like the kind of guy who was probably a poster child. He's the harmless boy next door that you'd find in trashy chick-flicks, always smiling, always close but far.

He's as blond as sunshine, eyes the wild sort of green you could never ignore. He's got dimples that scream innocence and the sort of smile that'd have you forking money out of your wallet in the name of benevolent charity.

I️ used to run my hands through his hair as we laid tangled underneath the blankets, leave a trail of kisses on his jawline as I️ traced my path to his lips. He'd save those special smiles for me, when we're sitting on the porch with mugs cradled in our hands and a blanket shared across our laps. His eyes were my favorite thing in the mornings, always lit by the room's soft sunlight, so close after the proximity of a good night's sleep.

"No," I️ say, voice more solid than I feel.

He chuckles, none of it amusement.

One hand runs through his hair the length of a breath, leaving disarray in its wake. His eyebrows furrow slightly, as if he might make a comment on how childish that is. The way I️ know he would've done when we were still together.

I️ hate that I️ know that, that even after all this time and all this heartbreak there's still so many things that keep him with me.

"I'm sorry, Bianca. I'm sorry that I️ didn't say that. I️ didn't want to do it like this, and I️ know right now it doesn't sound genuine but I️ swear it. "

"It's a little too late for apologies, Xander." My words slip out in a sneer, something ugly and jagged. "Let me go," I️ say again. I've become nothing but an echo.

"I'm sorry," he says again; together we are nothing but unwanted, broken records.

His words are desperate creatures, grappling for surface to hook into. My heart is still jagged from the heartbreak. If I'm not careful; he could find something to catch onto.

People are beginning to stare at us; it's not the sort of thing that's easy to ignore. Behind Xander, Audrey is there, her grin calculating and cruel. It makes my skin crawl, makes me tug at my hand again. She may have kept her mouth shut, but she's still a Barbie, and with them, secrets find their own ways of coming out.

"Look," I️ say, sharply, my ire stoked by Audrey's presence. My head snaps too quickly, and my step towards him knocks me against his chest harshly. Who is he to be showing our business to everyone out here? L "I'm not doing this, especially not now in front of the entire goddamn school. So I️ swear to god you better let me go. Right. Now."

Xander reads my eyes, seems to see the threat within them. His grip tightens for a moment, like he might disobey, but they loosen until I️ can snap it away.

I️ practically snarl as I️ put space between us.

"Enjoy your first day," I️ grumble bitterly, turning away.

***

The day my important relationship went to shit seemed almost like it could even be a good day.

There weren't omens, weren't signs. The day had been warm, and welcoming, we hadn't been fighting about anything beforehand. It came on suddenly and without warning; a storm-burst of absolute fuckery.

I️ remember it being a Saturday, that I'd missed the previous week of school to catch up on everything on my own time, focusing on my studies instead of my losses.

I'd woken up and slept well, was in my front porch in the morning light to have my coffee and enjoy today's achievements. I️ waved at the neighborhood joggers, smiled at any early rising neighbors.

The day had been perfect; straight out of a movie.

Xander had slipped over, too, and we were sitting on the swinging bench of my front porch, my legs across his lap. It was chillier than normal, and Xander poked fun at the goosebumps that showed up on my skin.

We were joking about horrible names we'd give our kids, as if our future was set in stone, like there wasn't a single doubt about it.

Then, when I'd finished my coffee and Xander's stomach had growled, we'd run over to his house since he had a waffle maker and I️ didn't. I️ was in the process of making them before I'd checked my phone. I️ hadn't looked at it yet for the day, but I️ clearly should have.

My phone was blown up with messages for all different sorts of people, and I️ merely expected it to be some new group chat with my friends arguing over pineapples on pizza. But I️ frowned as I️ scrolled through them, reading the texts that, to a degree, were all on the same thing.

Bianca????

Are you okay?

How could he do that!

What the hell!

He's such a dick.

You deserve more than that.

But it wasn't until one text in particular that my early morning mind could fully register the entire weight of it all.

Your perfect little boyfriend must have gotten tired of you ;)

It was followed with a picture, a little grainy and dark, but good enough for me to realize that it was Xander kissing some girl. At first glance, it looked like me, but closer inspection showed that Xander was wearing the same combination of clothes that he'd worn last night to some classmate's party, the outfit he'd worn when he came to spend time with me before he left.

And I️ hadnt gone to that party with him.

"Hey, babe," Xander greeted as he came in from the living rooms. He sniffed the air and frowned. "I️ think you burned the waffles," he said with a laugh, walking over to where the maker sat on the kitchen counter.

Waffles were the farthest thing from my mind.

I️ just stared at him as he moved around, wondered how he could be so indifferent, as if the world had drastically changed and he didn't even bother to tell me about it. I️ wondered how he sat with me and talked about a future just moments ago as if he meant it.

"Bianca?" He asked with confusion when he turned around and must've seen the look on my face. "You okay, babe?"

I️ laughed then, coldly, because nothing was remotely funny. "Babe," I️ said, tasting it on my tongue. It was bitter now, as if mocking. "Tell, me did you call the girl from last night the same thing?"

His face fell in realization, and he made quick work of muttering an incoherent string of words before he cleared his throat and tried again. "I️ can explain," he started off, but I️ hardly doubted that. 

"Don't," I️ commanded before he could begin.

"It's not what it looks like, Bianca. Hear me out here."

"You cheated on me, and then didn't even have the decency to tell me." I️ turned and walked away, making my way to his front door as quick as possible.

"No, I️ didn't. I️ was planning to tell you just—stop walking away from me!" He latched onto my hand and tugged me to him. I️ hissed and tried to fight it, but he was stronger than me and was using it to his advantage.

"When, Xander? When you two decided you fell in love and wouldn't need me? Am I️ that disposable?"

"Don't be stupid—"

"Oh, so I'm stupid now."

He groaned in frustration, but I was the one who had every right to be angry.

"You're mishearing me," he tried to state calmly, and moved his hand to cup my cheek. Part of me longed to take a breath and lean into him, but the stronger part was angry, and glaring, and wanted to leave before I️ fucked up his ability to have children.

"What—"

"We need to talk about this, sort this out and get things clear. We've been through worse; this is nothing."

I️ scoffed at that, finally ripping myself from his grip. "Those were not nearly as horrible as this. You cheated, and don't you dare think that for one second I'm okay with that."

"You're putting words in my mouth!" He yelled out suddenly as I️ got closer to the door.

I️ spun to face him so fast I️ might have gotten whiplash. "Then some say something worthwhile! Because right now I️ can't hear anything past that damned picture!"

He glared at me then, as if I️ was the one being unreasonable. "Why is it so goddamn easy for you to distrust me? For you to scream at me and run out of here! Stop running, Bianca. Stop for a second and let me catch my fucking breath because when it comes to you it's like I'm always in a sprint to catch up. You're everywhere all the damn time and I️ do everything in my power to be there for you, to care for and love you."

"I️ didn't know I️ was such a deadweight," I️ responded and he groaned again in frustration.

"You know that's now what I️ meant," he said, tugging at his hair, a habit he had that made it obvious he was losing it with me. He took a breath to try and calm himself. "Just stop running, Bianca. Let's talk this out like grown ups for gods sake."

I️ gave him a straight face, latched my hand onto the front door, turned the knob and took a moment to look at him before I️ opened it and prepared to step out. "I'm not running," I️ corrected stupidly, just noticing the tears on my face now that the early morning chill had hit them. "I'm walking away." I️ wasn't sure how that was any more dignified.

****

It hadn't been my plan at first, but in the end, I skipped first period. I ignored the text messages from my friends asking where I️ am, or whether or not I was aware that Satan Spawn Xander had arrived. My phone buzzed until I turned it off, unwilling to deal with the repercussions. Their concern was kind, understanding. But it was not a situation I wanted to face.

I knew, of course, that I should have gone to class and braved the situation. I should have shown that I wasn't affected, that I didn't care. It was undoubted that rumors would spread, spurred on by Audrey's vicious tongue and her team of Barbies. This was, in short, a terrible decision.

I walked out anyways. I walked, slowly, casually. First, to Chase's car, so it would seem, perhaps, like I was merely retrieving something. There I remained until the bell had run for first period and all of the students had already filed inside.

After that, I was quick to make a call, eager to leave and too aware that my friends would be searching for me soon enough.

"Bianca?"

I️ took an exhale at the voice, focused on the sound of it over the line instead of falling apart. "Ryan, are you home?"

There's shuffling on his end, something hurried and sudden. Then his voice comes, urgent now, like my words have set off an alarm. "Yeah, I️ am. Is everything okay?"

"Can you pick me up?" I️ asked, ignoring his question as I️ shuffled my feet on the sidewalk. I️'d stayed just outside of the school grounds, too far for a teacher to pull me back in. "I'm at the high school."

"Okay..." Ryan drawled, unsure, but the rustling on his end assured me that he was coming. "I'll be there soon," he told me, and I️ thanked him, ready to leave it at that, but he stopped me before I could end the call. "You better tell me everything."

I hesitated, our breaths white noise on the line. I could've said no. But maybe I needed someone outside of the situation.

"Okay," I️ said quickly. And then hung up.

***

Ryan had not stopped staring. It was an odd sensation; the weight of his concerned gaze narrowed at the back of my head. It tickled a bit like guilt, not unsimilar to the way it felt when mom would scold me. Which was ridiculous, of course. Ryan was a mere year older than me; he could not possibly be a parental figure of any kind.

In his room, I shuffled through his DVD collection, trying to find a suitable line up for a marathon. It was the opposite of dealing with the situation; an art I was particularly skilled at.

I'd been going at it for a good ten minutes since we got to his house, and I️ can practically feel his need to ask me questions prickling at my back. The restraint of it was kind of admirable, but mostly it was amusing. Ryan quite reminded me of a young child, too curious to hide their intentions.

I guess it's only right to put him out of his misery.

I sigh, slouching my shoulders, letting my butt fall to carpet so I curl my knees up and wrap my arms around them. Resting my chin on my knees with resignation, I steel myself. "Go ahead," I say softly. "Ask." 

Then Ryan is a rupturing volcano, his question fast, eager.

"What the hell happened?"

I️ shrugged, tried to delay the inevitable. "What makes you think something happened?"

Ryan gave me the kind of look that meant he knew I was spewing bullshit. "You called me at school sounding like you were about to burst into tears. I️ pick you up and it's like you're a shell, and since we've gotten here you've been moving around like your dog died."

I️ bit my lip. I️d been a lot more obvious than I️ thought.

"Xander'a back in town," I️ answered simply, knowing he'd be able to fill in the rest for himself. I'd spilled it all one drunken night after we'd slipped into a state of friendship, and while I️ could vaguely recall the conversation, Ryan had practically memorized it. It was a bastard of talent. "I️ ran into him this morning at school."

"What happened then?"

I️ shrugged. "Apologies a few years too late. Things I didn't care to hear." I️ started looking through the DVDs again, picked out the second Little Mermaid even though I️ knew he'd hate me for making him watch it again. But he shouldn't have it in here if he didn't want it being used.

"Tell me more," Ryan goaded. I️ flashed him a look of exasperation. He responded with a look of his own, not backing down.

"There isn't much to tell," I said. This was very much a lie; Ryan was well versed in the language of them.

"You're a girl," he grunted. "There's always more to tell."

I️ turned to him, rose an eyebrow as I️ moved to his tv system, started getting the first movie set up. The Fifth Element had always been a favorite. More because I'd watched as kid than because it was actually that good.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Ryan waved a hand in the air, an obscure gesture that made it seem he himself wasn't really sure what point he was making. "You know," he said, as if I was meant to fill in the blanks for him but received only the raise of my brows. When he failed to gain my help, his gaze went to the ceiling as he searched for what he might say.

"Girls just always have more to say on a subject," he began. "You females actually want to talk about your feelings." Then he shrugged. "But boys just try to pretend that feelings don't exist."

Ryan sat, waited to see if I️ was going to deny it. I️ didn't, just shrugged and made a noncommittal noise. I️ wasn't entirely sure I️ agreed, but I️ wasn't in the mood to argue. Wasn't really in the mood for anything, really.

Once I'd popped the disc in and started it up I️ launched myself onto his bed lightly, jostling him as I️ got under the covers and made myself comfortable. He rolled his eyes, but didn't do anything but join me, settling himself under the blankets and rearranging the pillow behind his head.

Ryan was a good friend, and while he could never fill the hole my brother left, he definitely felt like something close to it.

"You said you'd tell me everything," he nudged me, his elbow finding my arm beneath the covers. He was a gentle, prying creature. "You hung up pretty fast but I️ still heard it. That's basically a signed verbal contract, you know. So you've gotta tell me." I️ wasn't entirely sure a "signed verbal contract" made sense, but I️ didn't comment on it. Ryan was going to school for psychology, not law.

"Contracts signed by a minor are not legally binding," I️ murmured smartly, keeping my eyes glued to the flatscreen and eliciting a groan from the boy beside me.

"Bianca," he tried again, and I️ sighed before succumbing.

"I️ was torn," I️ admitted begrudgingly. "Most of me hates him with everything I've got for what went down between us and the stupidest part of me sees him and just..." I️ frowned, bit my lip as I️ searched for my train of thought. "I️ see him and I️ want things to be the way they were again, for us to be close but not necessarily together." I️ sighed, ran a hand down my face in frustration. "With both Chase and Xander back now, it's like a constant reminder of a rough part of my life and some of the best times of my life at the same time."

"Torn," Ryan echoed. I nodded, though it wasn't really a confirmation he was searching for as much as it was an elaboration.

He gave me a look of pity, but I'd already turned away to face the movie again.

He didn't say anything else.

Ryan understands that it's a touchy subject, a wound that never healed properly. Poking and prodding at things that should've been left alone.

I'd been naive, the inevitable side effects of youth. Experience was often the most ruthless of teachers.

Chase and Xander had been my closest companions as children, a package of three; a magic number of childish chaos and unbreakable bonds. We'd been attached at the hip for most of our lives, but we'd crumbled three years ago in a domino series of mishaps. 

I'd been angry first at Chase, who'd left so quickly that despite the warning, I still hadn't fully steeled myself. It came at the wrong time; salt to a wound that had already been gaping. Chase's obliviousness to all that had occurred since then was an inevitability but it was almost too easy to be resentful.

With Xander's betrayal came the forced creation of a new Bianca. When all the things I'd rooted myself to with were lost, how could I be expected to remain the same?

I was a child; scared and sheltered. I'd placed a bubble made of glass, cut by the shards of glass that reigned down upon its destruction.

After that, and before he'd moved, me and Xander held little contact. My friends stood as a barrier between us, blocking any contact. For my protection. For his.

I'd numbed the pain and ignored it instead of dealing with it. Because it was easier that way; simpler than the complex workings of my reality.

Sometimes you need to burn bridges to stop yourself from crossing them again.

•(edited)•
A/N: first off, is anyone even reading this still lol

Literally haven't touched this in ages. I have no idea what's going on. My writing style has changed a lot so I cringe to even read my old stuff oh my god. But god, have this. I have no idea what to do with it.

But anyways. For any previous readers seeing this again and don't remember the difference, I️ have changed what actually happened between her and Xander and the whole "cheating" situation because that was a really messy area. It still kinda is tbh. Yikes

Also changed Bianca's dynamic with Ryan because making them friends with benefits just makes the whole web way more tangled than it needs to be.

Also, she wasn't in school after seeing Xander, and Chase hasn't quite gotten around for her monicker, but don't worry she's still gonna be his princess ;)