Quicksand | Kellin Quinn

T w e n t y

Everything passes in a blur. Only a week after "running away", Kellin called in about the basement. I get arrested for a second time. Complications. Paperwork. Angry people. Empathetic people. Retrial.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"You can't exactly go back now," Kellin replies, and I place my hand against the glass. He does he same, a sad smile on his face.

"Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"The videos. When you see them—"

"I won't look at them if you—"

"They'll be played at the trial, and I need you with me. You're going to see them," I interrupt him, and he nods slowly. I clear my throat as it feels like the air around me thickens. "Remember this me. Not the girl in the videos. This me. Don't look at me differently. Please," I say softly, and he looks into my eyes, his green eyes shining lightly.

It seems like an eternity before he replies, "The only thing you have to worry about is me trying to re-murder those guys." He smiles at me, and it feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest. It's Kellin. My Kellin. He won't judge me or look at me as if I'm some frail glass doll. He'll see me as me and only me.

"I really wish I could kiss you right now," I sigh, smiling at him.

"Me, too. Kiss you, I mean. Not me," he giggles, and I roll my eyes.

"You're not making it easier, you little awkward churro." I press two fingers to my lips before touching the glass, and he does the same.

"Your awkward churro loves you," he says, his cheeks slightly pink.

I smile. Maybe things won't be that bad, after all. "And I love you."