I spent so much time hopping between the Matheson's and James' houses over the last three years that I had become family by default to both. The minute we stepped through the front door of Owen's house, his parents poked their heads out from the kitchen, his mother beaming as she wiped her hands on a dishrag and crossed the room to us.
"Hailey!" she exclaimed, though her eyes shot to her so to my right with a confused look. He must not have mentioned I'd be coming over tonight. "Hi, sweetheart. It's been a while. How are you doing?"
The question may have sounded like Mrs. Matheson trying to make small talk to the average person, but this family had been my backbone after Dad's accident a couple years ago. While Mom was nose deep in casework to distract herself from her grief, I'd been bouncing between Nathan's bed and Owen's mancave down in the basement. Mrs. Matheson had tucked me securely under her wing when I needed her most and as she eyed me down in her doorway, it was apparent her maternal instincts were still kicking into gear anytime I was around.
"I'm okay." I lied, having no desire to try and explain my internal confliction over my mother's choices. "Just tired. Nathan had a game tonight."
Owen laughed quietly, throwing a confused look my way, "You're tired from sitting for three and a half hours?"
He retreated to the kitchen the second I shot him a dark look, shaking his head to himself. Mrs. Matheson waited until he'd set down the few bags he'd carried in to speak to him directly. "Your brother is flying in tomorrow with Lucy. I'm not sure what your arrangements for the night were but be sure to pull out the sofa bed in the basement for me, please."
Owen nodded. "Sure."
"I'll get out of your guys' hair." she said, squeezing my shoulder on her way back to the kitchen. "Pie will be done in twenty minutes if either of you want any."
"Alright, thanks Mom."
Owen threw the door to the basement open, hit the light switch, then stepped aside to allow me to go in before him. I didn't hesitate, feeling all weight and pressure temporary leaving me the more we descended. This place had become my safe haven-somewhere far from all the expectations. Most nights it was the two of us here, but on occasion we'd been joined by a few of Owen's track friends and Missy.
As I crossed the dimly lit space to the beige sofa at the center of the room, opposite a plasma, Owen headed in the opposite direction to a black sofa-bed and started discarding cushions.
"How was the ride home with Nathan?" Owen's quiet inquiry pierced through my train of thought as I scrolled through movies. I tightened my grasp around the remote, refusing to respond right away in fear that the wavering in my voice may give away how deep Nathan's words had cut.
Unfortunately, Owen had taken my silence as something have happened and the minute he flopped down on the couch beside me, he continued to pry. "What'd he do?"
I shrugged a shoulder carelessly, not oblivious to Owen throwing his head back and groaning when I started to flip through chick-flicks. "Nothing. We just kind of got into a little bit of an argument."
"About?"
"He was ignoring calls from his mom." I whispered, finally tearing my eyes from the screen and forcing myself to meet his. "I asked why and he got kind of defensive and snappy. He insinuated I'm too nosy and need to stop riding the two of you on your personal lives."
Owen considered the words for a few minutes, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, before he finally answered. "He has more mood swings than a thirteen year old girl on her period."
"Owen." I grumbled.
"Look, Hail, I don't trust that dude at all." he said it softly, but there was an unmistakable bitter undertone. "You saw firsthand at Homecoming just how mentally unstable he is."
I rested my head against the pillow behind me, shaking my head slowly. "Nathan would never hurt me, Owen."
"Yeah?" he averted his gaze to the TV. "Because I've watched him drag you into any and every situation he's gotten himself into the last four years without a second of consideration of your wellbeing."
"Owen, come on." I breathed.
He sat upright suddenly, making a gesture behind him toward the staircase. "No, you need to hear the reality of all of this, Hailey. Nathan is a selfish prick that doesn't care about anyone except himself."
"He cares." I said with a quick shake of my head. "You just don't know him like I do."
Owen leaned forward and touched his calloused palm to my cheek, eyes roaming my own. "Maybe you're right. But with hoping for the best from this situation, you need to prepare yourself for the worst, as hard as that is for you. If you don't, there might not be any coming back from this."
"I know, Owen." I touched my hand to the top of his. "I'll be okay. I appreciate your concern."
There wasn't a smidge of doubt in my mind he wanted to drop the subject, but after a beat of tense silence, he dropped it altogether and snatched the remote form my grasp with a smirk and a wink. A smile immediately shot across my own face as I grasped the throw hanging over the back of the couch and snuggled into his side, tearing open a bag of chips.
"Do you do this with Nathan?" Owen asked after a few minutes, slowly but surely drifting back toward unwanted territory. Turning my head a fraction, I caught a genuinely curious look lighting his green eyes. "Dude's glued to his phone anytime I'm around, so I can only imagine how he'd be with you."
I considered lying to Owen, but I knew no good would come from it and shrugged a shoulder as I dug my hand into the chips. "Sometimes. He watches Grey's on occasion, but you're right, most of the time he's scrolling through his phone or making snide remarks."
"I still don't understand it." He muttered, but didn't say anything else. Unfortunately, what he did say was enough for me to completely shift my body in his direction.
"Understand what?"
Owen was quiet for so long I nearly rested my head back against his shoulder. "Why you're so in love with him. There's literally an entire school of guys, a quarter of them jocks without the arrogant attitude he has, but you're head over heels with the one guy that treats everyone like shit."
"You nor anyone at that school know Nathan like I do." this was a hill I would die on. "I've been by his side since we were in diapers. I've seen him through his worst. I got him through it."
"And what did he give you in return, Hailey?" Owen's voice was barely audible. "Look, Hail, you know I don't want to see you upset, but that's exactly why I won't shut up about this until you truly understand the damage it'll cause."
I bowed my head, and he took the action as his signal to continue.
"You're right, I don't know Nathan the way you do, but I know you better than he does." I smiled a little when he scratched his head following the load of word vomit that left him. "Hailey, you're miserable when you're with him. I'm not just talking about now that you've started to pretend to be his girlfriend. The last three years I've watched you completely lose yourself in trying to help him."
"He needed me, Owen. His dad took off and—"
Owen cut me off before I could finish my defense. "And your dad died, Hail. I know it's easier and comfort us, but what about you? When are you going to allow yourself to feel?"
The words hung in the air for a long time before I averted my eyes to the sofa bed across the room. Once he realized I didn't have an answer, he sighed and extended his arm back out across my shoulders and pulled me into him.
"I'm sorry." He whispered, but I just shrugged and pulled the blanket up to my chin, unable to verbalize my feelings.
I wasn't angry with him for the comment, the contrary, if I were being honest with myself. As much as I hated hearing the words or any confirmation my father was truly gone, for that matter, I needed to. And Owen was the one person in my life blunt and direct enough to bring it up.
Worse than the thought of Dad was his question. I'd spent the last two years pushing every feeling I had as I spun in my small little world of denial, nosediving into Owen and Nathan's problems because they were easier to face and solve. Seeing Mom starting to date again was thrusting the reality I was desperately trying to outrun into my face, but I had no desire to fall into the giant, gaping hole of depression I knew would be awaiting when I finally stood and came to terms with the truth.
Instead, I stuffed my face with food and pretended as if I didn't feel the sympathy and pity emitting from Owen, and prayed that he'd take the hint and pretend none of this had happened when we woke up tomorrow morning.