Zack and I have been home all day together. Watching tv in the living room.

I felt like seeing Jackson again. I just didn't want anything leading to me losing my virginity to him. After everything that happened at his house last time, I wasn't ready.

I decided to text him. As I waited for his message, I watched a movie for that time. I finally got his message. He felt the same. He wanted me to come over.

I then looked over that Zack, watching tv. I knew he was probably happy that i'm going to get out his hair. I would have to tell him i'm going to Amber's though. He still doesn't know about Jackson and I. I remembered that I promised we weren't anything. That's when we wasn't anything but it's different now. We are so more than nothing. I couldn't let Zack knowing that i've been sneaking to his best friend's house.

"Hey, Zack i'm going to Amber's house" I said.

I then got up about to leave the living room.

"Athalia, wait" Zack said.

I then turned around. I was scared that he caught onto. I thought he found out I haven't been going to Ambers.

"You've awfully been going to Amber's house a lot" Zack said.

"I can't spend time with my best friend?" I asked.

"I didn't say that. It's just like everyday" Zack said.

"I didn't go yesterday, so not everyday" I said.

"Have fun" Zack said rolling his eyes to my comment before.

I then left the living room and headed towards the door.

The crisp night air clung to my skin as i hurried dow then sidewalk, keeping to the shadows. Jackson's house wasn't far, but every step felt like a small rebellion, like I was playing a game I couldn't afford to lose. When I reached his driveway, I saw the soft glow of hit porch light and felt the knot in my stomach ease.

Jackson opened the door before I could knock, like he always did.

"You're late," he teased, leaning against the doorframe with that crooked grin that always made my chest tighten.

"You're lucky i'm here at all," I shot back, brushing past him into the house. The warmth hit me instantly, a mix of cinnamon and the faint smell of the bonfire we'd had last weekend.

He closed the door softly behind me, his voice low. "Your brother doesn't suspect anything?"

"Not a thing." I flopped onto the couch, kicking off my shoes. "He thinks i'm with Amber, as usual."

"Good," Jackson said, tossing me a blanket. "We don't need him showing up here trying to kill me."

I laughed, but the thought of my brother finding out made my chest tighten. I loved him, but he was overprotective to a fault. If he knew about Jackson, there'd be no reasoning with him.

On the other side of town, Trevor sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the faint light under his bedroom door. He couldn't hear his dad pacing in the kitchen, the clink of bottles echoing through the house.

The last time they'd fought, it hadn't ended well. His dad always had a way of turning words into weapons, and fists when words didn't suffice. Trevor's ribs still ached from last time.

His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and his heart jumped. He grabbed it quickly, hoping it was anyone but-

It was Nicole.

He stared at the screen, her name glowing back at him. She texted him earlier, just a casual, Hey, how are you? But he hadn't responded. Couldn't respond.

If he replied too quickly, she'd think he cared. If he didn't reply at all, she'd think he didn't. And he couldn't let her think she had kind of hold on him. Not when his whole life felt like it was hanging by a thread.

"Trevor!" his dads voice barked from the other room. He froze, the phone slipping from his hands and landing on the bed.

Meanwhile, Dylan was probably neck-deep in his own mess.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the computer screen as the video feed from his dad's office played. The grainy footage showed his desk and locked filling cabinets that had been off limits my entire life.

Earlier tonight, I'd finally gotten in. It was easy, but i'd stolen the spare key from his nightstand. And what I found in those files? It confirmed everything i'd suspected. Trevor's dad wasn't just some man with a bad temper, there was something darker about him, something no one else seemed to notice.

I scrolled through the scanned documents on my screen: case files with blacked out names, photos that didn't belong in any investigation, and missing person reports either dates that lined up a little too well.

The truth was there. I just had to find the missing piece

I glanced at the camera feed again. If my dad had caught me digging into this, I wouldn't be in a lot of trouble. But I couldn't stop now. I had to know what kind of monster my best friend's dad really was.

I was still wrapped up in Jackson's blanket, my legs tucked under me on the couch, when my phone buzzed. My stomach twisted at the sight of my brother's name lighting up on the screen.

"You still at Ambers?"

I started at the message for a second too long, my pulse quickening.

"Everything okay?" Jackson asked,
his voice soft as he leaned closer.

I nodded quickly, typing out a response. Yeah, we're watching movies. I'll be home later.

I hit send and tossed the phone onto the coffee table, trying not to let the guilt show on my face. I hated lying to him. My brother and I had always been close. But if he knew about Jackson, it would ruin everything.

Jackson's hand brushed against mine, pulling me out of my thoughts. "You don't have to do this, you know" he said.

"Do what?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

"Lie to him. Sneak around." His eyes softened. "I know you're scared of what he'll think, but you can't keep living like this."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Zack is very complicated. If he finds out about us, he'll make me choose. And I don't want to lose either of you" I said.

Jackson didn't say anything, but the look on his face made my chest ache. I knew this wasn't fair to him either, but I didn't know how to fix it.

When I finally left Jackson's, I decided to walk the long way home to clear my head. The cool night air stung my cheeks, and for a moment, I let myself imagine a world where I didn't have to lie. A world where I could just be.

That's when I saw Trevor.

He was walking a few blocks ahead , his hoodie pulled up, his shoulders hunched. Even from his distance, I recognized him instantly. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should just let him pass. But some part of me wouldn't let it go.

"Trevor?" I called out before I could stop myself.

He froze, turning slowly to face me. The shadows from the streetlight fell across his face, but I could still see the familiar sharpness in his features-the same ones I used to trace with my fingers.

"Athalia," he said, his voice flat. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

"Walking," I said, crossing my arms defensively. "What about you?" I asked.

He shrugged, shoving his hand deeper into his hoodie pockets. "Same."

I stepped closer, studying him. There was something of about him-more than usual. "You okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine." The words came out clipped, but I knew him too well to believe them.

There was a beat of silence, think and tense, before he spoke again. "Where are you coming from?" he asked.

My chest tightened. "Amber's." I lied, the word bitter on my tongue.

His eyes narrowed slightly, and I could tell he didn't buy it. Not completely. But he didn't call me out, just nodded once before looking away.

"Trevor..." I started, but he cut me off.

"Don't," he said, his voice sharp. "Don't act like you care" he said.

His words stung, but I didn't say anything. What could I say? We'd been over for a month now, but the past between us felt raw, like a wound that refused to heal.

"I'll see you around," he muttered before turning and walked away, leaving me standing there alone.

I was still reeling from seeing Trevor when I got home, his words replaying in my head like a broken record. Don't act like you care.

The thing is, I did care. I just didn't know how to show it anymore.

I crept up the stairs, carful not to wake my brother. His door shut, the faint glow of his desk lamp slipping out from underneath. He stayed up late most nights, working on who-knows-what. Probably schoolwork, maybe something more.

When I got to my room, I flopped onto my bed and pulled out my phone. Jackson had send a text while I was walking home.

Get home safe?

I starred at the screen for a second before replying. Yeah, all good.

But it wasn't all good. Trevor's face, his voice, the pain in his eyes-it was all stuck in my head. I wanted to text him, to tell him I was sorry for everything, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Instead, I set my phone down and tried not to think about all the other lies weighing me down.

The next day, I sat with Amber in the cafeteria, her tray pushed off to the side while she sipped a smoothie.

"You've got to tell him," I said, my voice low and firm.

Ambers head snapped up, her blue eyes narrowing.
"Athalia, we are not talking about this here" she said.

"Then when? You've been sitting on this for weeks," I said, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Amber, he's going to find out eventually, you can't keep hiding it" I said.

Amber leaned closer, her voice a sharp whisper. "You think I don't know that? But i'm not ready. What if he freaks out? Or leaves? What if-."

"He won't," I interrupted. "You know Dylan. He's not like that" I said.

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You don't get it, Athalia. It's not just about him. Once he knows, everyone will know. And i'm not ready for that" she said.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I hated seeing her like this-scared, uncertain. Amber was the one who always had it together, the one I leaned on when my own life was falling apart.

"Fine," I said after a long pause. "But you can't wait forever. He deserves to know" I said.

She didn't respond, just stared down at her smoothie like it held all the answers she was looking for.

After school, I found myself wandering toward the basketball courts again. I wasn't sure why. Maybe part of me hoped Trevor would be there, and I could try to fix whatever was broken between us.

He was there, sitting on the bench with his hood pulled up.

"Hey," I said, stepping closer.

He looked up, his eyes bloodshot and tired. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," I said, sitting down a few feet away.

He didn't respond, just stared at the ground.

"I'm sorry," I said after a moment.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "For what?" he asked.

"For...everything," I said, my voice wavering. "For the way things ended. For not being here for you. I don't know. Just...everything" I said.

Trevor let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You can't fix this, Athalia. You can't just show up and say sorry and expect everything to go back to the way it was" he said.

"I'm not trying to fix it." I said quickly. "I just don't—"

"You just what? he snapped, his voice sharp. "Want to ease your guilt? Make yourself feel better?" he asked.

"No," I said, my voice cracking. "I just...I still care about you, Trevor. Whether you believe or not" I said.

He was quiet for a long time, his jaw clenched. "You shouldn't," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Before I could respond, he stood up and walked away, leaving me alone on the bench.