GASLIGHTING HER MOM WASN'T THE BEST IDEA.

Not only because it made Esme ten times more watchful—suddenly needing to know where Hayden was, who she was with, and what she was doing every second of the day—but also because it led to something much worse: Esme insisting she see a therapist.

And when Hayden flat-out refused? The threat of Clearwater Academy was back on the table.

"You think I'm crazy?" Hayden scoffed, crossing her arms tightly across her chest, her voice laced with disbelief and defiance.

"I didn't say that," Esme replied, her tone even but strained, as if she was clinging to patience by a thread. She exhaled slowly, locking eyes with her daughter. "But look at yourself, Hayden."

Admittedly, Hayden didn't look great. Her hair was a mess, dark circles shadowed her eyes from lack of sleep, and her frame seemed smaller—like the weight of the past two weeks was pressing down on her, shrinking her. She hadn't been eating properly. Hadn't been doing much of anything, really, except obsessing over Robby's disappearance and replaying that fight over and over in her head.

But she wasn't about to let Esme win this argument.

"I'm fine," Hayden said stiffly. "I don't need some stranger poking around in my head. I can handle myself."

"Handle yourself?" Esme repeated, raising an eyebrow, her voice thick with disbelief. "Hayden, you haven't been able to sleep without waking up in a cold sweat. You barely eat. You spend every waking moment either blaming yourself or chasing after a boy who—"

"Don't," Hayden cut in sharply, her voice cold and defensive. "Don't talk about Robby like that. You don't even know him."

"I know enough," Esme said, folding her arms. "He's bad news. Everyone can see it—except you."

Hayden's fists clenched at her sides. "You don't know what he's been through. He didn't have anyone, okay? No good influences, no support, just... a bad hand dealt to him." Her voice trembled slightly, but she kept going. "He's not bad news. He's just a kid who's been through a lot—just like me."

The room fell into a tense silence. Esme's expression softened slightly, but her resolve didn't waver. "I don't want to send you away, Hayden. I want to help you, but you won't let me. You don't talk to me. You don't talk to anyone."

"What's the point?" Hayden shot back, raising her arms. She looked away, her throat tightening. She hated feeling like this—weak, vulnerable. But a part of her knew Esme wasn't entirely wrong.

"I don't need a therapist," Hayden muttered after a long pause. "I just... I need time. I need to fix things my way."

Esme hesitated, studying her daughter carefully. "Fine. No therapist... for now. But if things get worse—if you can't handle it—promise me you'll let me help. No more walls."

Hayden gave a small nod, though she didn't say anything. It was the closest thing to a truce they were going to get. As Esme quietly left the room, Hayden sank onto her bed, exhaustion weighing her down. She'd bought herself some time, but the clock was ticking.

—

Fixing things her own way was proving to be easier said than done—especially when Hayden realized it meant facing things she wasn't great at. Like uncomfortable conversations. Like apologizing. And, in this case, facing people she'd hurt.

The first name on her list? Realistically, Miguel. But how could she apologize to someone who was lying in a hospital bed because of her? The second? Robby. Except she didn't even know where he was. That left someone who, despite everything, had always been kind to her: Carmen.

Now, standing in front of Miguel's apartment door, Hayden found herself hesitating. Her heart pounded harder with every second she stalled, her hand frozen mid-air, unwilling to knock. She chewed her bottom lip nervously, taking a deep breath to steady herself.

You owe it to her. Knock.

Before she could talk herself out of it, her knuckles tapped lightly against the door. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing Carmen, her expression warm but tired, the weight of the past weeks etched onto her face.

"Hayden," Carmen said softly, surprised but not unkind. "Hi."

Hayden shifted awkwardly on her feet, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "Hi... I, uh, I didn't really plan what I was gonna say. I just... I'm sorry." Her voice wavered slightly, but she forced herself to meet Carmen's gaze. "I know it doesn't mean much, but I—I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Carmen's expression softened even more, and she stepped aside. "Come in."

Hayden hesitated for a beat before stepping inside. The apartment was quiet, and the air smelled faintly of something Carmen must've been cooking earlier. She didn't deserve to be welcomed in like this—not after everything.

"I know you didn't mean for it to happen," Carmen said, closing the door behind her. "But I also know you've been blaming yourself, haven't you?"

Hayden swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. "How can I not? He's in the hospital because of me. I started the fight. And now..." She trailed off, blinking rapidly as tears threatened to spill. She refused to cry.

Carmen took a step closer, her voice gentle but firm. "Hayden, Miguel doesn't blame you. He woke up yesterday."

Hayden's head snapped up, eyes wide. "What?"

"He woke up," Carmen repeated, a soft smile breaking through the exhaustion on her face. "He's still weak, but he's awake. He asked about you."

"He did? He's— He's okay?" She murmured, breath catching in her throat. Relief washed over her in waves, but it was quickly followed by guilt. "I was part of the reason he ended up there."

"He doesn't blame you for what happened, Hayden." Carmen said, stepping forward and placing a hand on Hayden's shoulder. "He wants to see you. If you want, I can take you to the hospital."

Hayden opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. She hadn't expected this. She'd come to apologize, not to be offered a chance to make things right. But the idea of seeing Miguel—seeing that he was okay—made the knot in her chest loosen just a little.

"Yeah," she finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "I'd like that."

Carmen gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before grabbing her keys. "Come on, let's go."

—

Hayden had always been the kind of person who didn't second-guess herself. She acted first, thought later— if she thought at all.

But standing outside Miguel's hospital room, she found herself paralyzed, fingers clenching the door handle in hesitation. It was unlike her, the hesitation, the uncertainty. But then again, everything had felt unlike her lately.

She felt almost ashamed to show her face.

She had been blinded by anger that day. Anger at Miguel, anger at Sam, anger at Robby for losing control. Anger at herself for caring when she tried so hard not to. And now, Miguel was lying in a hospital bed because of it. She clenched her jaw, inhaling a shaky breath as the door creaked open.

His dark eyes flicked to hers, widening slightly in surprise, but then his expression softened into something she didn't expect: relief.

"Hey," he said, his voice rough but familiar.

Hayden froze in the doorway, caught off guard by his reaction. She had expected coldness, maybe even anger, but not... that. Not the faint trace of a smile tugging at his lips, as though he was actually glad to see her.

"Hey," she said, her voice quieter than she intended. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, her movements careful, hesitant.

"You came," Miguel said, like he couldn't quite believe it.

Hayden shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her eyes darting away from his. "Yeah," She crossed her arms over her chest, keeping her distance.

An awkward silence settled between them, thick and unspoken, filled with everything they weren't saying. The fight, the anger, the betrayal— all of it hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.

"You okay?" Miguel asked after a moment, his brow furrowing in concern.

She blinked, surprised by the question. He was the one lying in a hospital bed, and he was asking if she was okay? It was almost funny— she couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You're the one lying in a hospital bed and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

Miguel let out a weak laugh, shrugging. He gave her that same look— soft, steady, like he could see right through her walls. "I don't know. You just... you seem different. Tired."

Hayden felt the rhythm of her heartbeat change like an instinct. Like it knew things were leading to an uncomfortable conversation.

She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to talk about feelings or how things had changed. She didn't want to admit that seeing him like this, after everything, made something ache in her chest.

"You're surprised I'm here," she said instead, changing the subject.

Miguel smiled faintly. "A little. I didn't think... after what happened..." He trailed off, the unspoken words lingering between them.

After you kissed Sam. After I found out. After everything fell apart.

Hayden forced herself to meet his gaze, her expression carefully neutral. "I didn't come to fight."

"I didn't think you did."

Another silence fell, this one heavier than the last. Hayden's fingers twitched at her sides, the urge to fidget gnawing at her. She hated feeling like this—unsure, vulnerable, like she didn't know where she stood anymore.

"You shouldn't be happy to see me," she muttered, half to herself. "I'm the reason you're here."

Miguel frowned. "No, you're not."

"I started the fight," Hayden said, her voice sharper than she intended. "I threw the first punch. I'm the reason you're here. I—"

"You didn't kick me off the railing," Miguel interrupted, his tone firm but calm. "You didn't ask for any of this. Robby made his choice. I'm not blaming you for that."

Hayden's throat tightened, and she looked away, her gaze fixed on the floor. She didn't know how to respond to that. How could she, when she'd been blaming herself for weeks?

"You didn't have to come," Miguel said gently. "But you did."

"I owed it to you," she muttered, still avoiding his gaze. "After... everything."

Miguel's expression softened, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "You didn't owe me anything, Hayden."

She finally looked up, meeting his gaze. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them shifting into something quieter, something neither of them knew how to name.

"I thought you'd hate me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't hate you," Miguel said, his voice just as soft. "I never did. I never will."

Hayden's lips pressed into a thin line, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't know what to say to that, didn't know how to handle the way he was looking at her— like he saw her, really saw her, and didn't want to turn away.

"Are you... okay?" she asked finally, the question feeling strange on her tongue.

Miguel gave a small, tired smile. "I'm getting there. The doctors say I'll be out of here soon. I just... it's a lot." He paused, hesitating. Eventually, he exhaled, breaking the silence. "They're talking about surgery."

Hayden blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. "Surgery?"

"Yeah." Miguel's gaze dropped to his hands, fingers nervously picking at the edge of the blanket. "The doctors say it's my best chance. But..." He trailed off, biting his lip, clearly uncomfortable.

"But what?" Hayden prompted, leaning forward slightly.

Miguel took a breath, and when he spoke again, there was a tremor in his voice—fear he was trying, and failing, to hide. "There's no guarantee it'll work. Even if they do everything right, there's still a chance I won't... that I might not be able to walk again. Or do karate. Ever."

Hayden's heart clenched painfully in her chest. She had seen Miguel scared before, but never like this. Never so vulnerable. And it hit her in a way she wasn't prepared for.

"That's..." She faltered, unsure of what to say. "That's a lot."

"Yeah," he said softly, staring at the blanket as if it held all the answers. "And it's expensive. My mom's been trying to figure out how we're going to pay for it. I can tell she's stressed, but she won't talk about it." He let out a bitter laugh. "She's just... pretending everything's fine. Like if she doesn't say it out loud, it won't be real."

Hayden didn't know what to say. Empathy wasn't something that came easily to her, but she knew what it was like to feel powerless, to watch the people you care about struggle while you stood by, helpless.

"You're scared," she said quietly, more an observation than a question.

Miguel nodded, still not meeting her gaze. "Yeah. I mean, I know I'm supposed to be positive, right? Stay hopeful, keep fighting, all that. But what if it doesn't work, Hayden? What if this is it? What if..." He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. "What if I can't be who I was before?"

Hayden leaned back in her chair, processing his words. She wasn't good at comforting people. She didn't know the right things to say. But she understood what it felt like to have everything you cared about ripped away from you.

"You're still you," she said finally, her voice low but firm. "Whether you can do karate or not, whether you can walk or not—you're still Miguel. And that's enough."

He looked up at her then, surprise flickering in his eyes. "You really believe that?"

She gave a small shrug, trying to play it off like it wasn't a big deal. "Yeah. I do."

For a moment, they just sat there, the silence stretching between them. But it wasn't uncomfortable this time. It felt... steady. Like they were both grounding themselves in it.

"Are you gonna keep coming back?" Miguel asked suddenly, his voice quieter, more hesitant. "I mean... if you want to."

Hayden hesitated, her instinctive walls going up again. But looking at him—seeing how much he needed her, how much he was struggling—she found herself nodding. "Yeah. I'll keep coming back."

Miguel's expression softened, a hint of relief visible in the way his shoulders relaxed. "Thanks," he said quietly. "It... it helps. Seeing you."

Hayden didn't respond, but she didn't need to. For now, being here was enough.

authors note.
PLSS i hate this chapter BADD but Feb is coming sooner than I thought so Im boutta start SPEED releasing these damn chapters
anywho first Miguel and Hayden interaction of the szn what yall thinkkk