Brooks remained silent the entire drive home. He watched the road with clouded eyes, his body tense. The storm had picked up again now, rain hammering against the windows and wind tugging violently at the car, but I didn't ask him to pull over. Driving seemed to be the only distraction he had from whatever was going on inside his head, and he seemed determined to get as far away from St. Elise's Boarding School for Girls as possible.

It wasn't until we arrived safely outside the house almost three hours later that I dared say anything. We had been planning to stay at Dallas's house overnight, but both of us were so exhausted that home just seemed like the better option.

"If your answer is no I swear I won't bring it up again, but I just need to ask you once. Do you need to talk about it?" I queried quietly, my voice almost inaudible over the slamming of the rain against the roof.

Brooks gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white. His jaw was clenched again, so tightly that it looked painful. Maybe I was going to have to book him a dentist appointment to make sure all this teen angst wasn't permanently damaging his teeth.

"Can I ask you something?" He forced out eventually, ignoring my question and suddenly locking the full force of his gaze on me.

I nodded wordlessly, a little taken aback.

He hesitated. "When I told you about what Demi had accused me of, you never questioned it. Not even once. You just seemed to believe me straight away when I said I was innocent. Did you ever doubt me?"

I stared at him much longer than necessary. What did this have to do with anything?

"Of course I didn't doubt you. You forget that I've known you my whole life Brooks— you have the greatest sense of moral judgement that I've ever known. All you've done since I got here is help me, even though I don't deserve it. What reason do I have not to trust you?" I asked, wondering where this conversation was really headed. "I mean, if anything, you should be the one doubting me. What Demi said, about me faking being stalked to get close to you..." I trailed off unsurely, not knowing if I wanted to hear how Brooks felt about that. If he believed her...

Brooks tapped the wheel with his fingertips and bit down on his bottom lip. "You've made mistakes, Savannah, made stupid choices like all of us have. But I know you would never purposely try to deceive and hurt someone." He stated calmly, so low I almost didn't hear him.

My breath caught in my throat as a wave of relief crashed over me. He didn't believe her, he believed me. I could have cheered with happiness.

"Besides," he shot me a playful sideways smirk, "I saw how upset those photos made you. You're a good actor, but you aren't that good."

I smacked his arm and feigned offence, eliciting a laugh from him, but my charade was ruined when an uncontrollable smile dawned upon my face.

Before I could abuse him some more, Brooks snapped to attention. "Well we got what we needed anyway. I'll go and show the recording to Luke first thing tomorrow. Then this whole mess will go away and we can go back to normal." He waved his phone in his hand, gesturing to the recording we'd secretly made of our conversation with Demi.

Normal. I wasn't even sure what normal was for me anymore. Was it in LA with my job and the glitz and glamor? Or was it here, in Beaufort, South Carolina, living with the closest thing I'd ever had to a real family and doing mundane things like going to school? LA was starting to feel less like home by the minute.

Something warm latched onto my hand, and I looked down to find that Brooks was lacing his fingers through mine. When I rested my gaze on his face, his expression was soft and thoughtful, kind eyes gentle. "About what Demi said about my... feelings for you."

"Brooks..." I murmured, looking at our entwined hands. My hand fit so perfectly in his, and sat here in this car with him, my problems suddenly felt smaller. I couldn't deny what I felt for him, but that didn't change the fact that I was still going back to LA and everything was complicated.

He must have been able to see the resignation on my face, because he chuckled softly. "It's okay." He told me, his thumb stroking soothing circles on my palm. His eyes were gleaming like the flashes of lightning outside the window. "It's been a long day, we don't have to talk about it now."

I nodded in agreement, letting out a huge yawn as exhaustion suddenly set in and I slumped against my seat.

"Come on, let's get you inside." Brooks probed gently. The storm was brutal outside, the wind making it hard to open the car door as I clambered out. I staggered through the rain up to the driveway, barely even able to see Brooks through the elements and darkness.

I had almost reached the front door when a pinkish flash caught my eye from next door— different from the lightning. I squinted through the rain, wondering if I was imagining things.

No, there it was again. The unmistakable flash of a camera coming from... the neighbour's wooden treehouse?

My eyes widened as I realized what I was seeing, and I sprinted towards Brooks, who was fumbling with the door through numb fingers.

"Brooks!" I yelled urgently, and he instantly turned to look at me, his eyes cautious as he heard the alarm in my voice. I pointed towards the camera in the treehouse, and he stared in its direction for a moment before the flash went off again. A rumble of thunder covered the sound of his string of curse words, but I could use my imagination.

"Wait here." He yelled before he sprinted out into the rain and hitched himself over the fence.

"Wait!" I followed behind him, grabbing the edge of the fence as I tried to pull myself up the same way Brooks had done. The polished wood was slippery and my fingers couldn't find purchase, and I slid back down to the ground multiple times. With a hiss of frustration I ran as fast as I could back down the driveway, across the footpath and into the neighbour's yard. I arrived at the treehouse just as Brooks was about to reach the 15 foot platform.

Directly beneath him, the bough started to wobble, and a sheet of metal whined loudly before three screws fell to the ground. I stared in open mouthed shock as Brooks grabbed the camera and went to make his way back down the ladder. At the exact moment that he took a shaky step, the plank of wood beneath him gave way. I saw the pending events occur before they even happened, and my hand flew to my mouth.

"Brooks!" I screamed, watching as the treehouse groaned and shrieked under Brooks' weight.

The nuts and bolts keeping the structure together released their hold, and before I could blink, the entire treehouse— and everything inside it— smashed into the ground.