I never really got the purpose of Titanic. Everyone knows that it's meant to be a tragic love story between two lovers from opposite classes of society, but that's barely the tip of the iceberg. The tale is based off of the true events of the sinking of the Titanic back in 1912, but how many people actually watch it for the history? Most girls watch it for the love of Leonardo DiCaprio, or the heartfelt romance, and we all know what scene the guys are most into.

The last fifteen minutes of the movie play across the television screen as Silas and I enjoy a large bowl of popcorn. I left him in charge of choosing a movie or show while I went to use the bathroom, and I guess he assumed that I'd be into chick flicks. Normally, I prefer an action or maybe even a good comedy. However, despite its many flaws, Titanic isn't the worst movie in the world.

The scene where Jack dies soon comes on and I can't help my roll my eyes.

"You know he didn't have to die, right?"

Silas turns his head away from the screen. "I mean, I think it makes for a more dramatic ending, don't you?"

"Well yeah, but if your playing the logic card, there's at least eleven ways that we could have survived. Like, look at the raft. It's clearly big enough for the both of them, or they could've taken turns in the water, or he could've found another piece of driftwood."

As I continue to explain myself and my claim, I almost don't notice how invested he seems in my words. Normally when I talked logical to someone, they would either zone out or tell me to shut my trap. It's nice to be able to talk to someone who will actually make eye contact and listen to what I have to say. It's a feeling that I'm really not that used to.

"Is this what you do for all movies? Pick apart the methodical from the ludicrous?" he asks when I finish my rant.

"Only for the special ones, and this film just so happens to be my favorite victim," I answer. We both turn our head back to the movie. The ending is near and Rose has just discovered that Jack is dead. I can't help but let out a few slight chuckles as I watch the clip, listing off the dozens of reasons why he didn't have to die in my head.

Once the movie does reach its conclusion and the credits appear on the screen, that god-awful Celine Dion song begins playing, and my attention span automatically breaks.

"So I talked to Maxi," I say.

I see Silas lift his left eyebrow in reply to my statement. "How'd that go?" he asks.

"Better than expected. We were able to push aside our mutual dislikes for one another and come to somewhat of an understanding."

"That's a relief," he says, reaching across the couch to grab hold of the television remote. The chorus of the song comes to a stop and a vacuum commercial appears. "Can I ask what the whole issue was about or is that strictly among the proximity of girl code?"

"As a matter of fact, it was about you." My sentence trails off, along with my eyes, turning my head to the opposite direction.

He hesitates for a second, and only the narration of the television can be heard.

"Me?"

Ever since I found out about the breakup between him and Maxi, I never once tried to bring it up to Silas. I didn't want to start something that had already been dealt with, and things have been going great between the two of us. However, all good things must come to an end, if we really did want to move to the next level of our relationship, secrets cannot be apart of that equation. Not even mine. 

"When I was at the diner the day that Felix was arrested, Claire told me about you and Maxi, and how the two of you weren't always just friends."

His face registers to fit a different type of expression, a mix of irritation and regret boiling in his eyes as he turns his head toward the screen, though it's just an excuse to avoid eye contact.

"She did, did she."

"Yeah," I answer nervously and hesitantly, "But please don't be angry at her. I'm the one that pushed, and she kinda didn't have a choice." As I try to explain the situation to him, he doesn't seem to be paying any attention. By hiding this part of his past from me, he probably assumed that I would be angry if I were to ever find out about it. In some ways, I do feel as if I was being lied to. Everyone around me knew about Maxi and Silas' fling except for me, which only makes me feel more like an idiot, the one thing I shouldn't be allowed to feel, considering I'm doing the exact same thing to him, and he has no idea.

"Silas," I finally say. He slightly flinches at the sound of his name falling from my bottom lip. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What's there to tell? We dated for a while, and that's it. What more is there?"

"A lot, Silas. There is a lot there, and probably more that you're not telling me," I exclaim more defensively than I intended.

He turns his body so that his whole figure is facing my own, moving the bowl of popcorn so that nothing sits between us. "Rowen, that was a long time ago. It was during one of the worst years of my life, and quite frankly, a year that I wish I could forget completely. Maxi and I have been friends for years, but that's all I've ever thought of her as: my friend. Even when we were dating, things just felt a bit... off. That's why I broke things off with her in the first place. And as for why I didn't tell you, I just didn't think it was worth risking what we're making."

I remember now. That was the year his older sister committed suicide, and also when the rumors began to spiral out of control.

It hurts me that Silas had to go through that kind of pain when he was only in middle school. Not only did he lose one of his loved ones, but he lost two. If I were to ever lose Caleb or Dylan the way Silas lost his mother and sister, I don't think I'd ever be able to go on with my life. They are the only family that I have left, and knowing that Silas comes from a family even more broken than my own is heart wrenching. If only I could have known him back when we were both innocent in the eyes of lose; when neither of us knew what true pain felt like.

"So, you're not mad that I pried?" I ask anxiously.

"No, I'm not mad." He reaches over and retrieves the almost-empty bowl of popcorn, as well as the television remote. "Now that that's out of the way, you want to pick another chick flick to butcher?" he asks as he hands the remote over to me.

Just before I even have the chance to change a single channel, the sound of the doorbell goes off. "That's probably Dylan, most likely forgot his wallet or something," I say, tossing the remote aside and getting up from the couch.

I stalk towards the door as dialogue produced from commercials boom from behind me. I don't know why Dylan would even ring the doorbell before coming into his own house, unless it's his keys that he forgot and not his wallet. But when my eyes wander to the key rack, his set is nowhere to be found.

Shrugging, I open the door, ready with my opening statement to my older brother. However, I'm met with a face that doesn't match Dylan's, or even Caleb's. Instead, I'm met with Noah's.

"Hey, Nyc," he says his signature line with a shy grin.

My breath gets caught within the climax of my throat, unable to make its full cycle until I forcefully heave it through. In front of me stands the last person I expected to see tonight.

The last time I saw Noah, it was at my birthday party. He and Silas had finally met and things seemed to be going fine until they took a turn for the worse. The two of us both said things that we didn't mean and we haven't spoken since.  I realize now that there's a pattern weaved into our meetings. After one encounter, an argument breaks out, and it's weeks before the next one. Then, the same sequence rounds itself out again.

I begin to recall the things that he said, but more so, the things that I said. He told me that he still had feelings for me, and like always, I jumped to the punch and regretted every word that came after. However, regret isn't the same as forgiveness, and there are some things that I simply can't forgive.

"Noah, what do you want?" I say with anger leaking through and keeping my voice low yet to the point, though the way it came out was questionable. The last time Silas and Noah were within proximity of one another, all hell broke loose. I won't be making that mistake again.

"I came to apologize about what happened on the beach. I messed up."

"You know, you've been apologizing a lot lately."

"I know, and I'm so-" he stops himself before the long, slithering sound of that first syllable can even reach the surface. "Nevermind. Look, can I come in for a few minutes? I need to explain myself."

He takes a step forward though I stop him before he can take another. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Rowen-"

"No, Noah, you can't just show up on my doorstep whenever you damn well feel like it. We're not in highschool anymore. You don't get to flake out on me and then disappear to god knows where only to come back weeks at a time, expecting me to forgive you. This isn't one of those times, and I'm done playing this game with you." I hear the television inside the house go silent and I instantly know that I got the attention of Silas.

Sure enough, the door opens a crack and Silas appears next to me. I don't turn around and face him. In fact, I show no emotion at all. My eyes instead fall to where the tips of Noah's shoes touch pavement of the porch.

"Everything okay?" Silas asks, requesting for my attention, but I dismiss it.

Noah's face runs dry once his eyes fall on Silas. It isn't the same look of question that he had when the two of them first met. This look is a settle glare that cuts deeply into my heart, one that intends on growing with each passing second as it travels from me to Silas. I've never seen it before.

"What are you doing here?" Noah asks him with a hostile tone.

"I invited him," I tell him, defending Silas.

Time seems to dissolve within itself and become translucent. The three of us stand completely breathless, each of us unsure of what to say. The silence bellowing around us is almost scary to me because it is silence that can mean a thousand words. I just wish someone would say something, do something that would put my quivering mind at ease. At least then I would know everyone's intentions, or I'll be offered some clue as to what they were thinking.

Suddenly, Noah steps forward, his glare growing with intensity. At first, I assume he is directing his attention to me, but my guesses are as good as ashes on the ground when he his hands fly towards Silas, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"Noah, what the hell are you doing?!" I scream. Silas stumbles as Noah violently pulls him away from the safety of the doorway, slamming his body against the metal rails of the porch. Silas lets out a painful grown as his lower back is practically eaten by the impact.

Their faces are now inches apart from one another. Noah clutches Silas's shirt until his knuckles turn white, and his grips intensifies. "You're gonna leave. Now," he spats into Silas' face, his demand low and threatening, and one that promises more pain if it is not upheld.

"I'm not going anywhere," Silas replies through gritted teeth, struggling to get out of Noah's clasp. All of the sudden, he is pulled away from the sharp edges of the railing and Noah's fist strikes his face. Within milliseconds, Silas' collar is released and his body tumbles down the concrete steps. I hollar his name and sprint past Noah, practically jumping from the steps to get to Silas.

His body is nearly limp on the black concrete of the driveway. Repeating his name, I take a firm grasp of his shoulder and help him to stand. Blood trickles from his bottom lip and forehead as he shakily gets to his feet. With a worried glance, I scan the rest of him to make sure he has no further injuries. Other than the bruising on his arms and face, he seems to be lucky.

Noah encloses the distance between him and Silas, his right hand red and discolored from the punch. "Noah, stop!" I yell at the top of my lungs, stopping him in his tracks. If he wants to hurt Silas again, I won't give him that opportunity.

I barely recognize him now. Both of them. Never have I seen Silas in this sort of state, vulnerable and unable to defend himself. I see in his struggling eyes the anger that he's holding back, consuming every bit of it so he doesn't lose himself to his emotions. Silas is slightly taller and stronger in build, but Noah is quicker in movement. Seeing him now, his face is so filled with rage, a kind that is hot and steaming white. If I didn't know any better, I would think that his intentions were to not only inflict pain, but to do something far worse.

Silas begins to stumble as I use all of my strength to keep him from falling. I continuously ask if he is alright but there is no reply. His eyes are focused on Noah as he slowly sweeps across the front lawn. I don't get the chance to tell him to stop before his breath is already brushing across our faces.

"It's bad enough that you manipulated her into trusting you, but pulling her into your sick game crosses the line," he sneers.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Silas answers, heavy and tired.

"Well let me give you a hint. Does blackmailing her into breaking the law ring any bells?" My eyes widen as I incorporate Noah's words. How does he know about that?

Noah suddenly holds up a small piece of paper, it's body crumpled and it's edges torn and weathered. "You dropped this when we met up," he says angrily, handing it to me.

In confusion, I use my free hand to take the strip of paper from him, while I use the other to keep Silas from falling. It takes a few moments for me to recognize it, but the memory comes flooding back. This is the sticky note that Silas gave to me with his street address on it. He gave this to me the night of the break-in. I realize that this is the reason why I couldn't find it. It must have fallen out of my pocket when I went to confront Noah at the cafe around a month ago. And then it hits me. "You followed me?"

"I needed to make sure that you were safe, and clearly, you weren't."

"I was perfectly fine! And that didn't give you the excuse to come barging into my personal life like you're responsible for me, because you're not! I don't need you as my damn chaperone! I can take care of myself!"

Finally, everything makes sense. All this time, Noah was aware of the break-in, and he probably knows even more. He must have put the pieces together when I accidentally told him that I was being blackmailed. How could I have been so stupid?

"I never meant to hurt her, I was only trying to help," Silas says. By now, he can almost stand on his own, but I keep my arms around him just to be sure.

"By blackmailing her into doing your damn dirty work? Where's the help in that?!" Noah cries.

"He never made me do anything!" I take a step toward him with Silas' hand clutched in mine.

Noah looks at me with shock, fiery then making its sudden advent on his face. Even when we were together, I've never seen this side of him. "You're still defending him after the hell he put you through?" he asks rigidly.

"Silas never did anything wrong. It was my choice to go with him that night, not his or anyone else's!"

My mind presents me with images from that night, along with every detail that made up the memory. Meeting Felix, Ashley, and Maxi, breaking in, bugging the laptop, lying to the police, the private moments between Silas and I, each one plays out like a black and white movie, though there's just one plot hole that I'm only now realizing. It's the one thing that never made sense about that night, and the one question that each of us had asked but never received an answer to.

Now, it all fits perfectly like a puzzle, and Noah is the final piece.

"You called the police that night, didn't you? It wasn't any of us, it was you!" I scream at him.

At first, I expect him to deny it, but he says nothing. In that moment, I have my answer. "Something had to be done to ensure you didn't get into more trouble than you were already in.I thought it was the right thing to do."

"I could've been arrested! My friend was arrested because of you!"

"You mean the other people involved in that little stunt? You call those people your friends? They have no respect for you, Rowen. They don't give a damn what happens to you. All they care about is having another person to take the fall. And clearly, you bought into that shit."

I feel myself snap like a fallen twig and I lose all grip on my emotions. Tears begin to fill my eyes and fall from my bottom lash line one by one. "You don't know anything about them."

"I know enough to know that if it wasn't for them and if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be in this mess in the first place!" In his eyes, I can see tears starting to form as well, though Noah forces them into hidden corners. His anger and hatred towards Silas has officially pushed him over the edge, though parts of those specific emotions seem to warp within an instant. He now looks at me with more longing and sympathy, and he takes a step forward. I'm tempted to step away but my feet hold to the ground, and I let him take my hands in his. "Rowen, I care too much about you for you to go down the path you're going. You are not that kind of person, and I'll be dead before I see you fall that far. Please, just trust me. Trust me like you did two years ago, and let me help you."

Helplessness is now officially an understatement. I can't move, I can't speak, I can't think, and I can barely breath. The more I try to tug my hands away from Noah, the more it hurts. It hurts knowing that I'm no longer in control of myself and I feel as though I need others to tell me how to act or how to feel. In truth, I don't know what to feel. "What are you asking me?" I ask under the steady stream of tears rolling down the red of my cheeks.

"Come back to Michigan with me. You can leave all of this in your rearview mirror if you just let go of the past and come with me, and we can pick up where we left off."

I feel Silas tense up beside me, though it's not from the pain. Noah's offer hangs over both of our heads, and I can't help but ponder over my answer. To Silas, it may seem obvious, or maybe he'll feel relieved if I were to accept.

My bottom lips suddenly ignites with pain and I realize how hard I've been biting down on it. Deep down, I know my answer, and I'm almost certain that Noah knows it too. But still, I can't help but imagine what my life would be like away from the place that has only caused me pain, to be away from all the people and all the memories that do nothing but haunt me. Can I really do that? Can I really leave it all behind? Can I leave my friends and brothers behind?

Can I leave Silas behind?

Noah's high-strung eyes begin to puncture holes into my head, trying to assess what I'm thinking. He's never looked at me like this before and it's hard for me to even meet his stare. Next to me, Silas only looks at me, his posture lazy and heavy as one half of his body leans against my car. He too is awaiting my answer.

I'm once again greeted with Noah's tortured look of heartache once I turn my head, and I know my answer. I also know that once I say it, there's no taking it back. 

"I am letting go of the past, Noah. I'm letting go of you."

Sadness swims in the gloss of his brown eyes as he lets go of my hand, both of his arms falling to his sides. That look of ultimate betrayal burns away all other emotion as he drops his head. I'm all too familiar with that look. I've seen on Olivia's face, I've seen it on Maxi's face, and I've even seen it on my own face. Deep down, I wish that there was another way but there isn't.

All of my strength goes back into Silas as I help regain his full stance. Slowly, the two of us brush past Noah, and to my surprize, neither of them meet eyes. They don't even rotate their heads for one final glance.

I help him up the last few steps on to the porch, a few grunts of discomfort passing through his vocals. He is heavier than he looks, but I manage to get him to the open frame of the front door without any problems.

"Rowen, don't do this," Noah helplessly pleas from the bottom of the porch steps.

I tell myself that I'm not going to turn around; that I'm not going to spill every last word of anger that I have for him because it will only cause him more pain.

Tonight, he has crossed the line, and losing what appears to be the only thing that he cares about is worth more pain than he can possibly conquer.

In an act of weakness, I turn around to face him one last time, with only one thing left to say. "I don't need your help. In fact, I don't need anything from you anymore," I say sternly, trying to hide the glossiness of my eyes so that he can't see my tears. And when he doesn't show any signs of movement, I spit out, "Now go before I call the police."

I don't even check to see if he left the driveway before helping Silas into the house.

Sounds of heavy breathing whistle into my eardrums the moment I close the front door, using my foot instead of my arms. Silas begins to tug at my arms, signalling that he wants me to let go, but I hardly loosen my grip. It isn't until that he reaches the couch that he looks as if he's about to collapse. 

"I'm gonna get some ice," I tell him. He nods slightly as he sits himself on the soft cushions, and I sprint into the kitchen. In the freezer, I grab the biggest bag of ice that I can find and wrap a cotton towel around it to prevent inevitable freezer burn. I must've only taken approximately twenty seconds when I run back into the living room to give the ice to Silas. Once he sees that I have returned, he takes the ice pack from my hand and places it on his forehead where is cut is. "Are you okay?" I whisper.

"I'll live," he breaths, not meeting my worrying eyes. It's almost as if he's ashamed to face me.

I walk around the coffee table and take a seat next to him, burying my face into my hands. "Silas, I feel awful about this. This is all my fault," I whimper.

He takes my hand in his and gently squeezes it.

"Hey, this isn't on you. He was right. I did blackmail you into breaking the law and I did lie to you more than once. I regret all of that."

"But we're past that. And now, because of me, you're hurt, and you didn't even try to defend yourself."

"You can't blame yourself for this, Hewitt." Without warning, his hand lightly feathers across my cheek and wipes away my tears, and I can't help my sink into his touch. I'm met with a pair of eyes that no longer hold fear, but ones that only mean gentleness and sincerity, and I wish I could look at them forever. "Not every bad thing that happens is because of you. I didn't fight back because I know how much you care about him. I didn't want you to have to choose between me and him." He paused briefly and his hand begins to slide away. "And he cares about you too."

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter right now. What he did was wrong and I will never forgive him for what he did." I shake my head and take a hold of his hand before it's completely out of my reach.  "I don't want our whole relationship to be built off of secrets and lies, Silas. I want to move on with a clean slate and not worry about our pasts creeping up on us. All I want is for all of this pointless shit to be over and done with and we can't do that if we keep fighting it. I just want you."

Just like that, everything falls into a state of slow motions and our bodies fall into each other. I close my eyes and feel is fingers wrap around the bottom of my jaw line and top of my neck, pulling me towards him slowly, and I let him. Our lips gently brush and I take care not to cause pain to his cut.

Never has lie sounded so beautiful coming from my lips. If only letting go was that easy. If only he knew how toxic my past really is. I wish I could just tell him everything right here and now because the longer I wait, the further I feel myself falling more deeply and tragically in love with him. It's a feeling that I haven't felt in such a long time, and one that I'm not sure that I'm ready for.

I know what I have to do. I have to tell Silas the truth.