Songs for this chapter are:

King (acoustic version)- Years & Years

Never Be Like You- Flume feat. Kai

Unsteady- X Ambassadors

            It's been five days since I've seen or heard from Nora. Tessa said she worked a shift with her last night, but Nora seemed distracted and barely spoke to her.

Distracted by me?

Doubtful.

            I've decided to call Nora, Sophia in my head. I didn't know Sophia, not the way I do Nora, and if I separate the two of them my life will be easier. I hate that she felt like I wasn't paying attention to her, that I ignored her for Dakota. It wasn't like that. Not intentionally. I was already in love with Dakota when I met her, I didn't know that I was supposed to be paying attention.

I didn't know her attention was mine to have. I thought of her as Sophia, the older, beautiful chef who would never give me the time of day. But now she's Nora, the stunning and mysterious friend of Tessa's who is doing a good job of making me fall for her. 

            Falling for may be too dramatic, but I've certainly been interested and very, very, attracted to her. And in turn, she's gone off on me and basically told me to fuck off. Along with her revelation about me needing to mind my own business, she told me that Dakota cheated on me, more than once.

My head still hurts at the thought and I haven't made up my mind whether I want to ask Dakota for the truth or not. Part of me thinks that Nora was just mad and in the moment, so she spewed out whatever she thought would hurt me the most. That being said, that part of me isn't big enough to ignore the fact that I have to force myself not to believe her.

            "Did you really do another load of laundry?" Tessa's voice surprises me.

            I sit the stack of towels down on the ground and turn to her. She's standing in the hallway, her lime green tie bright as ever.

"Yes. It's time I start helping more around the house. Well, apartment," I tell her.

I open the closet and she leans against the wall. She's wearing makeup today, her eyes are lined with black and her lips are shiny. It's been a while since she's worn makeup. She's beautiful without it, but today she looks a little less sad than the last few months.

            Hardin's flight lands in any minute and I'm wondering if the two are related. I thought she would be more upset, more zombie-like than usual, but it doesn't seem to be the case. She seems to be brighter, her steps lighter.

            "You help just fine. I like to clean, you know that," Tessa says.

            This little hallway closet is impossible to use for anything. The three shelves are so small and the bottom section is taken up by the vacuum and broom. I shove the towels in, hoping they won't fall before I can close the closet. They fall to the ground. I reach down and pick them up.

            "Sure," I half-heartedly agree with her.

            "Is it weird that I'm nervous? I shouldn't be nervous right?" Tessa softly asks.

            I shake my head. "No, not weird at all. I'm nervous too," I laugh, not joking at all.

I shove the towel into the closet, trying to keep them as folded as possible this time.

"You're sure you're okay, right? Remember Sophia said you can stay with her for the weekend if you aren't comfortable."

The name Sophia feels odd in my mouth, but calling her Sophia helps me not ache at the sound of her name.

                        Tessa nods, "It's okay, really. I have to work most of the weekend anyway."

            I can't begin to guess how this weekend is going to go. It's either going to be a relief, the two of them holding hands and skipping down the road of reconciliation, or one of them may burn the place down. Hardin's known for burning buildings, but that's another story for another time. 

            "He's taking a cab from Newark, so he'll be here in about an hour, given the traffic," I close the door and look at Tessa. Panic bubbles in my chest.

            It's not fair for me to ask her to be okay with him coming here. I should have told him to stay in a hotel, there are hundreds in the city. Tessa is my best friend and I should have made him make other arrangements. Then again, the burning flames of hell can't keep that man away from her, so why try?

            I rub the stubble budding across my chin. "I feel like this isn't going to go well. I shouldn't have agreed to it.

            Tessa pulls my hands away from my face. "It's fine," her eyes are on mine, "I'm a big girl; I can handle a little Hardin Scott."

            I sigh. I know she can handle him. She's the only person in this universe that can handle him. That's not the problem. The problem is that handling him usually comes along with a war. I try to think of this situation as if it's a battle. Tessa on one side, her sword drawn, Nora and her army of books behind her. Then there's Hardin, stone faced and alone, his tank ready to roll over anyone in his way. I find myself in the middle of them, waving a puny little white flag, but preparing for carnage.

            I follow Tessa out into the living room to finish putting away the rest of the clean laundry.

            "Will you-know-who be around this weekend? I don't know how that will go over..." I picture Robert, the pretty boy waiter, crushed by Hardin's tank.

            Tessa reaches for her black apron from the top of the pile. "No, he works all weekend, too."

            I don't know if that will make things better or worse? Should I offer to send Robert to Mars for the weekend?

Maybe.

I hate being stuck in the middle of them, but I do my best to be as neutral as possible while still being a good friend to both of them. Tessa is working all weekend anyway. Working with Robert.

            Between Dakota possibly cheating on me the entirety of her life in New York, the city that I moved to for her, and Nora storming out of my apartment, my life has turned into a teen drama. No, not teen. I'm a grown up now. Well sort of. So it's a New Adult drama. Is New Adult a thing? I heard two women debating this on the subway the other day. One of them, a short woman with brown curly hair and a two-hundred-thousand-word manuscript, was livid that a twenty-year-old got a publishing deal writing something called "New Adult".

            "What the hell is new adult anyway?" The other one asked her, clearly intent on getting her riled up.

            "Some shitty sub-category that the publishers created to put their shittiest work. Too young for romance, but not young enough for YA." The aspiring author barked.

            As I wiped up the coffee rings on the table next to them, I thought that I would like to read some new adult books. A lot of the books I love to read are considered Young Adult, but what about those of us who want to read something a little more serious, more relatable to our actual lives? Not every underdog can save the world, and not every love is magical and life changing. Sometimes even the nice guys get the short end of the stick. Myself included. Where are those books?

            "Do you guys have any plans for the weekend?" Tessa asks, interrupting the randomness of my brain. She's struggling to tie her apron around her back, but just as I move to help her, she ties it.

            "Not that I know of. I think he's just sleeping here and leaving Monday afternoon."

            Tessa does her best to keep a neutral expression.

"Okay. I am working a double shift today, so don't wait up for me. I won't be home until at least two."

            Tessa has been working non-stop since she arrived in August. I know she's working for a distraction, but I don't think it's working. I know she's going to stop me, but I start my lecture anyway.

            "I really wish you wouldn't work so much. You don't have to help pay anything. I got enough money from grants, and you know Ken refuses to let me pay for much anyway," I remind her for the tenth time since she moved in with me.

            Tessa fusses with her hair and looks over at me. There's a smile on her face that tells me she's about to tell me to shut up. "I won't go over this with you again," she says, shaking her head.

            I decide to save my energy for the weekend and let her have her way. "Text me when you're off, then?" I grab Tessa's keys from the hook and drop them into her palm.                     "I'm fine," she says as we both study her shaking hands.

            When Tessa leaves, I jump in the shower and shave my face. Sometimes I want to grow my beard out, but once I do, I shave it off. I can't make up my mind. If I let my beard take over my face, maybe I'll be invited into the hipster secret circle in Greenpoint. Then again, am I ready for that type of commitment? Hardly.

            I wrap a towel around my waist and brush my teeth. I don't know if I like being an adult so far. Why does New York have to be so far from Washington? I should call my mom today...

            Someone's knocking on my door. The noise is echoing through the apartment. Hardin, it must be Hardin. Why do I feel so anxious about his arrival?

            I pull the door open, wishing I would have put some clothes on because he's going to talk crap to me the moment he sees me in my towel.

            My eyes meet Dakota's and I step back to let her inside. She's the last person I expected to see when I opened the door.

"What's going on? Why are you here?" The last time I saw her wasn't exactly pleasant, and since then Nora showed up at my apartment with a box of her belongings.

            "It's.." she croaks. Her bottom lip shakes with anxiety as she talks, "my dad. He's...he's going to die," she covers her mouth as the words come out.

            "It's worse now that I've said it. He's dying Landon, my dad. He's going to die. I'm not even there and he's going to be dead soon. I-"

            Instinctively, I reach for her and pull her into my chest. Her cheeks are wet against my skin and her body is shaking as her sobs take over her.

            "What happened?" I ask. I don't know which thought of mine is worse, that I'm not sad about him, or that Dakota feels like a stranger in my arms.

            Her hands move up my bare back and I rub my hand over her curly hair.

            "His liver, it's failing. They said he has Alcohol Hepatitis, I don't know what is means exactly, but his liver is full of scars. I knew the bottle would kill us off one by one. Carter, my dad... I'm sure I'm next."

            I hug her tighter and interrupt her dark thoughts.

"Tell me everything they said," I guide her to sit down on the couch with me. She's still shaking when we sit and she molds her body into mine, holding onto me as if she will lose ground if she lets go.

            She explains that the nurse didn't say much aside from medical terms she didn't understand or remember. His body is failing fast and he barely has enough money to live, let alone pay these expenses. It deeply bothers me that a man, no matter how evil, can work his whole life and barely have enough insurance coverage to save his life.

            "Do you want to go visit him? Are you planning on it?" I ask her.

            My fingers trail up and down her arms, comforting her. "I can't. I owe rent still and I'm barely scraping by."

            I look down at her face but she turns it away, burying herself into my chest.

            "Is that the only reason? Money is the only reason you can't go?" I ask her.

            I wouldn't be surprised if Dakota didn't want to see the man before he died. I wouldn't blame her.

            "I don't want you to pay for it," she says before I offer.

            Dakota lifts her head up and looks at me. "I'm sorry I came here. I didn't know where else to go. My roommates won't understand and Maggy isn't really that great at listening to other people's problems."

            "Shh," I stroke her back. "Don't apologize." I tilt her chin up to me.

            "Should I even be sad?" she asks. "I can't decide if I'm sad or relieved. The only reason I think I'm sad is because he's the last of my family. If he dies, do I even exist? I have no one, Landon."

            I don't tell her that she hasn't had him since she was a little girl. I don't tell her that I'm not sad that he's dying.

I tell her that it's okay to feel however she feels. I tell her that she doesn't owe anyone an explanation.

            "If I don't go, no one else will. He won't even have a funeral. How do people pay for funerals?" Dakota's voice cracks and I continue to hold her.

            I think about the members of Dakota's family that I have met in the past. She has an aunt somewhere in Ohio, her dad's sister. Her grandparents on her dad's side are dead and no one from her mom's side speaks to her anymore.

They used to call her every week after her mom left, but the calls slowly stopped coming and we came to the conclusion that they gave up hope that Yolanda would return from Chicago. Talking to Dakota must have reminded them of the loss of their daughter and selfishly, they withdrew from their grandkids.

            Carter's funeral was nearly empty. Only me and Dakota sat in the front row. A few teachers from school came and stayed for a few minutes, and Julian made an appearance of course. He left in tears almost immediately. Three assholes from our school came and were chased out by Dakota before they even took a seat on a pew. Forgiveness would not be found in that small church.

Dakota's dad didn't bother to show up. Neither did Yolanda. No one cried, no one shared happy stories. The pastor pitied us, we could tell, but Dakota wanted to stay the entire hour to remember her brother.

"Do you think he will go to heaven? My dad says God doesn't let people like him into heaven," Dakota's voice was as blank as her eyes.

I tried to keep my voice down so the preacher wouldn't hear my reply. "I don't think your dad has any idea of who God lets into heaven. If there's a heaven, Carter is there."

"I don't know if I believe in God, Landon." Dakota didn't whisper. She wasn't embarrassed to say this in a church.

"You don't have to."

I held her tighter and after ten minutes of silence, I went up to the podium and recalled our best times with Carter. With only Dakota in the church, I told an hour of stories, our crazy adventures, the plans for our future, I didn't stop talking until the pastor politely asked for me to wrap it up.

This funeral would be similar, only this time Dakota would be alone. No one to relive memories for her. Though, I can only think of one positive memory of the man. I hate him more than I knew possible, so I'm not sure if I could bring myself to give him that. Not even after death.

"Come with me. Can you come with me? I'll help pay. I'll figure out some way to help pay for some of it."

Come with her? To Michigan?

"Please, Landon. I can't do this alone."

Before I can answer her, there's a knock at the door.

"Hardin." I say, "Hardin's here for the weekend."

Dakota peels her body away from mine and seems to notice my lack of clothing. "I'll go," she leans over and presses her lips to my cheek.

"Please think about it. I would leave Monday. I'll use the weekend to scrounge up some money. Please consider it and let me know by Sunday."

"Okay," is all I say.

There's too much going on in my brain to say anything more.

Dakota follows me to the door and when I open it, Hardin's standing in the doorway, a black duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. His long hair is messy and he's taller than I remember. His eyes scan Dakota, then me, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Well hello, Landon. Delilah," he walks past us and into the apartment.

Dakota's eyes are swollen and she doesn't bother responding to Hardin. Without a word, she hugs me tight and leaves me standing in the doorway. I walk inside, closing the door behind me.

"Why was she here? I thought you were fucking the other one?" Hardin asks.

He tosses his bag on the couch and walks around the living room, studying every inch like it's a crime scene.

"I need some advice," I tell him with a sigh.

He stops at the chair and touches the material of a pair of Tessa's pajama pants. His fingers run over the fuzzy material, tracing the edges of the clouds.

"Put some clothes on first. I don't give advice while naked. Not with you, at least."

I roll my eyes and walk back to my bedroom to put some clothes on and deal with the storm coming my way.

(I'm updating again tomorrow! I officially moved to LA guys, cry with me