***Aaaaaaaaaaaaand we're back! I feel like the time gaps in this book are unusual for me, so I apologize in advance. I have to keep the plot moving, though, so these are necessary.

Also, I have the next chapter ready, so after I set it to music and proofread, you get a double update. I should have another part for you tomorrow, but no promises for Friday <3

You guys are going to like the next ten-ish chapters. But let's be honest, when you all are happy with my stories, you're also expecting the floor to fall through at any moment.***

***(Jay's POV)***

I open my eyes to view light pouring through my window, and I tuck my blanket up to my chin, wanting to go back to sleep.

But I can't.

It's been two weeks and three days since I last spoke with Nya. Kai temporarily suspended me from helping out with wedding obligations, and I don't blame him - all he knows about what happened is that his sister is upset. I'm just really worried about the wedding shower - it's a month away, and Nya and I haven't done any planning together.

Nya and I are inevitably going to see each other and probably interact with each other at graduation tomorrow. But...it'll just be awkward. She still wants space. End of story.

I guess that leaves me with one goal for today: To finish the project I'm working on for Nya. It'll help me make things up to her. That's the reason I have to get up so early.

I stretch, rolling off my small bed and hitting the ground with a thump. Man, I'm not used to my room at my parents' anymore. At the monastery, even the bunkbeds were bigger than this tiny bed. It's built for a twelve-year-old, and I am not twelve years old.

I rise up off the ground and grab my phone, heading outside to my dad's workshop. I've been working on Nya's project in there – my best design yet for a glider. I used to make those a lot, but they all failed.

Not this time.

But before I get carried away working on it, I have one very important thing to do – something I should've been doing for a while, but didn't have the heart to do after my birth mom died.

I tap the screen of my phone and inhale deeply, preparing for the rush of emotion that always fills me.

"Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed.

Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.

Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless, aching need.

I say love, it is a flower, and you, its only seed."

I freeze up at first as my bio-mom's favorite song plays, but in a moment, instinct takes over, and I'm dancing through my parents' junkyard.

I haven't danced since my mom died in February.

But I'm different now – stronger, better. I care more about Nya – I love her in a deeper way that I didn't know was possible back then. I don't idolize my birth mother now; I got the chance to know her for real. And I don't take my friends for granted anymore.

"It's the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance,

It's the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance.

It's the one who can't be taken, who cannot seem to give,

And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live."

I always dreamed – even let myself hope, for the few days we dated – that Nya and I would play this song on our wedding day. Yes, I'm that bad. I fell for her so, so hard, so, so fast.

But now, I just have a feeling it will all come to nothing, and Nya will never want to be more than my friend again.

I chuckle to myself sadly. Just a year ago, I had nightmares that Nya would end up marrying some verbally abusive, rich husband, then have a passel of ungrateful children, then be dying of a terminal disease when she grew old. And in said dreams, I would take care of her after her lousy husband's death – none of her kids would show up to do the job. And the moment we confessed our feelings for each other, she'd die in my arms.

It seems so foolish to have had nightmares like that. Nowadays, the only bad dreams I have are about my birth mom's horrible death or me being Nya's verbally abusive husband.

There's nothing I can do about what happened to my mom. It still hurts me so bad and sometimes keeps me up at night, but I'm learning to deal with it.

It's just that the person who gave birth to you and raised you for the first five years of life – watching that person die trembling in your arms as you sing them to sleep - that's traumatizing.

Nya took care of me those first few weeks when I would wake up in a sweat or gasping for breath or crying out for my mom. She would take me to her room, build us a blanket fort in her closet, and let me talk out my feelings.

And then I hurt her.

I take a deep breath, letting out all my sorrow with my exhale.

It's okay. I'll find a way to make things up to her, somehow.

"When the night has been too lonely and the road has been too long,

And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong,

Just remember, in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows

Lies the seed, that with the son's love in the spring becomes the rose."

Maybe there's hope yet for our friendship. Who knows?

I wipe tears from my cheeks, laughing at how emotional I am. I'm way more in touch with my feelings than most guys would admit of themselves. I got teased for it a lot in school. I still get teased for it – Cole and Kai love to poke fun of my "feminine side" – but I know for a fact that at least Kai is pretty passionate about those he loves. I'm not the only emotional one.

And Cole can be sappy, given the right situation. I'll have to get back at those two sometime soon.

"A boy from a junkyard," muses a low voice. "Who would've thought you'd be a ninja?"

The skin on the back of my neck prickles just as I jump around in fear, throwing out my arms in defense. "N-Nadakhan!" I make a grab for my phone, but the Djinn suddenly appears next to me, snatching it out of my grasp.

I muster lightning in one hand and grab a wrench with my other. 'Junkyard boys' can be pretty scrappy, if you ask me. Ignore the pun.

The Djinn cackles, the sound low, rumbling, and fear inspiring. "Your attempts at self-defense are humorous. However, I am not looking to fight. I...have an offer for you."

"Not interested. What the heck did you do with my phone?!"

He holds up a hand, and it suddenly appears in his palm. "Do not worry. I will return it as soon as we finish our conversation." He smirks. "I...have a proposition for you."

"I don't want to hear it." I go running for my trailer. "Mom! Dad!"

Nadakhan appears in front of me again, cornering me back into my workshop. "I merely want to exchange a few words with you, junkyard boy. I am a Djinn, you know. I have powers you humans do not possess."

"I know. You teleport all over the place." I raise my voice. "Mom!"

"They cannot hear you," he growls. "They are otherwise occupied at the moment."

Where I was panicking just moments before, I feel white-hot rage rise inside me. "What did you do to them?" I advance on Nadakhan, fists raised.

He laughs. "That's more like it. Never fear, I only created a few minor distractions. A pot boiling over, a plumbing issue." He shrugs. "But that leaves you and me here. So let us talk, shall we? I...can grant wishes."

"I don't care."

"I can get you that girl you like."

That catches my attention, but I swallow hard and cross my arms across my chest. "No. Leave me alone."

He smiles wickedly, knowing he's getting to me. "But there are so many ways I could help you. I could make you – "

I stick my fingers in my ears, screeching at the top of my lungs, "La, la, la, la, la, la – "

He scoffs, muttering something under his breath. I have no idea what he said – I'm not a lip-reader, and I honestly can't hear anything over the sound of myself.

He appears behind me, grabbing me by the shoulders and yanking me backwards. I yelp in surprise, and my string of annoying noises is suddenly stopped.

"Listen to me!" he rumbles. "I'm trying to help you, funny man. Now, if you – "

"Jay? Jaaaaaaay?" comes my dad's voice.

Nadakhan grumbles under his breath. "We will continue this later." And he vanishes.

I place a hand to my throat, trying to catch my breath.

"Jay?" my dad asks, poking his head into the workshop. "There you are, son. I was wondering if you could come help with the plumbing. Things are a little...wonky right now."

I give a wobbly nod, fumbling around behind me for my phone.

That's when I realize Nadakhan still has it.

"I...dad, can I borrow your phone? I think...I need to report something to the team."

***(Seliel's POV)***

"So...how's your martyr complex?" I ask Nya, pulling her hair away from her face so I can do her makeup.

She smiles just slightly.

She's been doing that a lot lately - the smiling thing. She also seems a lot...calmer than before.

"I guess the truth was bound to come out at some point," she sighs.

"What truth was bound to come out?" I frown.

She clears her throat. "I've been keeping it quiet from the team – I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, just in case I changed my mind – but...I talked with my brother last week, and I'm...not running away." The last three words come out in a rush.

"Huh?" I frown.

"I'm not running away." She hitches a shoulder. "I mean, I still have a lot of self-hatred and fears to deal with, but I'm staying in Ninjago City. Well...I'm ninety-five percent sure, anyway. And I've just grown more confident in my choice to stay over the past week, so..."

I blink. "You didn't think to tell me?"

"I didn't want to disappoint you if I changed my mind."

"Who said I would be disappointed if you left?" My lips quirk.

She rolls her eyes. "Okay. I didn't want you telling the team, then me disappointing them."

"I'm good at keeping secrets." I apply primer to her face. "I wouldn't have told."

She wrinkles her nose at the feeling of the liquid on her skin. "I hate makeup."

"You've made that abundantly clear, but I'm about the only person you're hanging out with besides the team right now, and this is what I want to do."

"Remind me to start spending time with Cole and Zane instead."

"What about your clingy ex? He's improved over the past two weeks, you know."

She sighs. "Jay...I asked for space, remember?"

"It's been two weeks with zero contact between you two. Graduation's this weekend. You're going to have to face him at some point, Nya, and it's probably not the best idea to be awkwardly avoiding each other at your last senior event of the year."

"You might be right." She shakes her head, smirking. "You know, for a freshman, you're pretty smart."

I scowl at her. "I'm almost as old as you are. My mom held me back a year, doofus, and you're like...what, two grades ahead of your age?"

"One. And my birthday's late enough in the year that it could have been two." She makes a disgusted face. "Sel, is this liquidy stuff really necessary? Can't we move onto something simple, like eye shadow?"

"Beauty is pain." I quit priming her face to allow her skin to dry. "But back to the topic at hand, you need to meet up with Jay before graduation, or things are going to be really awkward. And in all your graduation photos of you and the team, you're going to be right next to Jay – you two are the shortest, after all. If he doesn't know you're okay with being around him again, you're going to be six feet apart in all your pictures. It's not like we have a global pandemic requiring social distancing to worry about."

"Jay's five and a half inches taller than me," she complains. "He can just stand in the back with the tall people."

"Your boy Lloyd is six foot two, Nya. Jay doesn't have much height on him."

"True." She bites her lip.

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you scared of talking to him or something?"

"No," she argues. "I'm just...cautious. What if I ruin his progress in healing or something?"

I give her a look that says I don't believe her fake reason for a second. "Nya, you're just scared he's going to hate you or something. Which is preposterous – I think it might be physically impossible for him to even dislike you." I pour a little foundation on a small sponge, then rub it all over Nya's T-zone – her forehead and nose.

"I'm not scared!" she retorts.

"You're lying."

"You're annoying. Get this stuff off my face already."

"Not a chance." I hum to myself as I continue to blend in her foundation. "Just make an effort to see Jay, okay? I am not going to be responsible for ruining Cole's graduation day because you can't get along with your ex."

"You're a brat," she huffs. "A meddling brat. A meddling brat who...may have a point."

***Next chapter will be up in a bit, and I promise you'll enjoy it!***