4 2
Don't Go Breaking My Trust
I wake up feeling lighter, and happily stroll to the bathroom for a nice, warm shower. The tension that'd usually coat my body is still undeniably there, but somehow, it's lessened.
I know the reason for this is my talk with my brothers yesterday. We came to some agreement that everything that's wrong between or with us isn't entirely our faults.
And that makes me feel the littlest bit better.
I know pushing the blame onto other people isn't the best thing to do, but taking it all on yourself isn't either.
I refuse to continue accepting the blame for things my parents caused.
Dinner with all five of us last night had been awkward, Mom and Dad's lingering animosity surrounding us all. Another fight was brewing under the surface, we could all feel it, especially when Mom was snippy anytime Dad so much as moved. But he completely ignored her antics, not letting her egg him on, and maybe that's not the best way—again—to handle things, but it sure as hell allowed the rest of us a chance to enjoy our food peacefully.
The night ended with Noah, Knox, and I watching a movie together. Dad sat on the side tapping away at his phone, not really paying attention, but we all knew he didn't sit with us because he wanted to see the movie. He was avoiding heading to bed with Mom.
But he eventually did leave, and there was no more arguing for the night, which meant Mom was already asleep or he actually slept in the guest bedroom and did a good job hiding it from us.
Before heading off to bed, Noah grabbed my elbow and said we'd retry our day together tomorrow.
After stepping out of the shower, I ready myself, putting in effort to look decent for the first time in a while. I haven't tried since prom night.
That causes my stomach to drop, as any reminder of that night does. But I try to push it aside. Noah and Knox are making an effort, and I can't let my own shit ruin it today.
Even if I can still feel my guilt and sadness tugging at me relentlessly.
Once I finish my hair, I walk into the hall, finding Knox exiting his room at the same time. I observe him quickly, frowning at his pajamas.
"Why aren't you dressed?" I ask while reaching for my phone in my pocket. "Noah's text said before eight, right?"
I double check, even though I know I got the time right. I was pissed when I saw how early he wanted us up and ready, but I assume it's because he rebooked whatever activities he had previously planned, and I didn't have the right to complain since my meltdown was the reason we missed it yesterday.
Knox looks at me sleepily through barely open eye lids. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
He tries to move past me, but I grab his wrist and jerk him back. "Aren't we going out today?"
"I'm trying to go take a piss and head back to bed," Knox answers while ripping his arm from my grip and then rubbing at his eyes. "Whatever you and Noah have planned for today doesn't involve me."
When he moves again, I don't stop him, instead standing there for several seconds confused. Why would Noah plan another sibling day and not invite all of his siblings? Did he think I wouldn't want Knox there? Did he think that was yesterday's problem?
I march down the hall and to the living room, spotting the back of Noah's head as he lounges on the couch.
"Hey," I call out, ready to demand some answers, but I get thrown off once again when Noah hears me, stands, and walks around the couch.
Noah's shirtless and in sweats, his usual sleep attire. He's not ready to go anywhere either.
Before he can say anything as he steps closer with his phone in hand, I nod my head and chuckle. "You got me."
He looks confused for a second. "Huh?"
"Clearly you wanted to fuck with me and make me get up and ready early," I continue with another chuckle. "I'd be pissed, but that'll take more of my energy. I'm heading back to bed. We'll fight later."
With that, I turn and begin walking away, but Noah tugs at my wrist the way I had just done to Knox. "No, I didn't do this for that reason. Even though that would be funny as fuck."
I don't even have the energy to roll my eyes, all of it having been wasted getting ready thinking we were gonna all have a good day together. "Then why?"
Noah's phone buzzes, and he glances down then toward the window. "Perfect timing."
He walks toward the door, leaving me to wordlessly follow, not sure what crazy shit he's about to throw my way.
I expect strippers or clowns or some type of exotic animal to fling through the door when he opens it, but instead, all I see is the annoyingly pretty face of Malia.
Even bare of all makeup, dressed in a plain tank top and short pants sweats, hair thrown up into a messy bun, she still manages to look like some sort of goddess.
I swallow down any jealousy or anger I usually feel about her. We haven't properly talked since the day Rachel released her nudes. I haven't reached out, like a complete bitch. And yet she still sent a prom dress for me.
And she's here now.
Malia's eyes drift over Noah and quickly find mine, a coy smile coming to her face. "Ready to go, Lyndon?"
"Uh, where are we going?" I ask hesitantly, eyes flickering between her and my brother.
A knowing smile remains of my cousin's face, but she doesn't say anything else, eyes glimmering at me before she pulls the sunglasses down from her head and covers them.
"Follow me," she calls out as she turns and heads down the porch.
I remain rooted to my spot, but Noah's hand nudges my back harshly to get me out the door. "Noah, what the hell is she doing here?"
"Look, I realized I can't help you deal with this stupid bullshit you got going on," Noah answers while nudging me once more, almost making me fall down the concrete stairs. "But maybe Malia can. She's always known you better than I did, and been a hell of a lot better at cheering you up."
I pause, feeling my chest swell with nostalgia at the days when Malia was the person who knew me best. She may not have understood everything that was wrong with me, but she was there, and her being there and trying her best to bring a smile to my face was all I had wanted.
I sigh heavily at how much things have changed and how unsure I am if I actually do miss those days.
No matter how warm and inviting Malia had been back then, living in her shadow all those years had still left me feeling cold.
"Okay," I say, mainly so Noah will stop pushing me. "I guess I'll go."
"Like you have a choice," Noah answers with a snort, giving me one last shove before slamming the door shut.
I walk down the stairs and look around for Malia, which shouldn't be a hard task to do since she's not the kind of person that can easily blend in.
My eyes find her standing across the street by a gold Mustang. I don't remember Malia having that car, but it doesn't shock me that she'd have something just as flashy as she is.
"Alright, Malia," I call out, ready to ask where the hell she's taking me, but my words get caught in my throat when I realize there's someone in the driver's seat.
It takes all of five seconds for me to identify who that person is. It takes another one for me to yell "Oh hell no," at them, and then one more to turn around and head back toward the house.
I hear a car door opening and closing, along with Malia's soft laughter filling the air. I pick up the pace, starting out with a sprint and then turning it into a full out run to the front door.
I can feel him running after me, and all of the smugness coming to him as he easily catches up. Fuck. I should've joined track with Noah when we were younger. Why did I think swimming fast was more important than running fast?
I barely make it to the front steps before an arm goes around my waist, tugging me back and into a hard chest.
"Not so fast, Boulevard."
I push my elbow back, trying to hit him. "Get the hell off of me!"
"No can do." David's hand tightens on my waist and the other grabs my arm, trying to stop me from swinging at him. "We have plans for today."
I turn in his grip, locking eyes with him. "Over my dead body will I spend a day with you."
David smirks, amusement dancing across his face at my obvious anger. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Boulevard."
I use the arm he's not holding to swing again, knuckles grazing the side of his cheek as he barely dodges in time. He blinks, and then his amusement is gone, eyes narrowing at me.
"That's it," he calls out, removing his hands completely from me.
Now I smirk, glad to have come close to hitting him once more and believing I won, but those thoughts of victory leave when David steps closer.
All I see are his brown eyes one moment, then darkness as my hair blocks my vision. I feel all the blood rushing to my head as I'm swung over David's shoulder, almost all of my upper body dangerously hanging in the air. The only thing keeping me steady is David's grip on the back of my knees, and even that is way too light to make me feel like I'm not going to fall and crack my fucking head open.
"Oh my god," I call out, tone caught between anger and panic. "Put me down!"
"Nah," David answers as he turns around, causing my body to swing side to side.
I lift my head a little, watching the grass turn to concrete as he walks further away from my house. When the street comes into view, my panic outweighs my anger.
"David, I swear to god if you drop me—"
The feel of his hands disappear, and I feel myself slipping. I let out an embarrassing yelp as I desperately cling at his shirt.
David's chuckles shortly follow, and then his hands are gripping my legs again, with a little more force this time.
"You are such an asshole!" I yell as I place my hands on his shoulder and use whatever body strength I can muster to push myself halfway up. At least this way, the blood's not all rushing to my head anymore.
I glance toward the side of David's head and ponder if swinging at him again will get him to drop me, and if I can survive the fall with no damages.
I don't get the chance to try, though, because next thing I know David's tossing me forward, and I narrowly avoid having my head hit the hood of a car.
I open my eyes to find Malia standing by David, watching as he shoves me into the backseat of his car. "Are you both insane?"
David just rolls his eyes and clicks the passenger's seat back into place once I'm in the car, then he turns and heads to the driver's side.
Malia offers me a small smile as she climbs into the front seat. "Good morning, by the way."
I widen my eyes at this bitch. "There is nothing good about this morning."
She shrugs and faces David as he slides into the driver's seat. "Alright," he calls out while slapping his hands together. He flashes both Malia and I a sneaky smile. "Ready to go?"
"No!" I yell out, gripping both of their shoulders harshly with each hand. I wish my nails were longer so they could dig into their skin and cause some damage. "I am not ready to go!"
"Yeah, I was asking Malia, not you," David says and then purses his lips.
Malia clicks her seatbelt into place. "I'm ready."
As David revs the engine, I lean in between their seats. "Don't you dare drive off, David!"
David side-eyes me, then looks at Malia and motions to me with his chin. "She deadass thinks I'm gonna listen to her?"
"Um, you do realize you're kidnapping me, right?"
Malia sighs. "We're not kidnapping you."
"Yes, you are, motherfuckers!" I yell into their ears. "You literally dragged me into this car against my will, and are now taking me to some unknown place I don't want to go. That's kidnapping."
"How can you know you don't want to go to this place if it's still unknown to you?" Malia asks with a raised brow. I blank, trying to think of a reply. "Exactly. Consider this a fun surprise trip."
"There is nothing fun about what just happened," I say while digging my nails a little harder into David's shoulder.
He shrugs off my touch and starts driving off. "Sit back before you go flying through the windshield, Boulevard."
"Now that would be more fun than you kidnapping me," I tell him, still not moving.
"Oh, I agree," he says with a smile. "But the damage to my car would dampen my happy mood. So, again, I advise you to sit the fuck back."
I feel the car speeding up after he turns at the stop sign at the end of my block. The car starts going faster and faster, and that's when I decide maybe sitting back is the better idea.
"Don't drive recklessly," Malia says in a hard tone.
David's lips lift into a smirk. "Sure thing, baby."
I don't expect David to listen so I scramble back, and I'm proven right when we head onto a highway and he easily maneuvers between lanes, seemingly flying down the road. I feel around for a seatbelt, not trusting his driving at all.
"Oh my god, we're gonna die!"
Malia turns her head to look at me, eyes filled with a kind of anger I haven't seen on her since the time when we were seven years old and someone had asked her why her dad wasn't around anymore. "Don't say that," she tells me and then faces forward again.
I'm shocked into silence, my nerves dancing around my body because I don't know where we're going, David's acting like a fucking drugged-up speed racer, and Malia just gave me the deadliest death glare known to man.
This is not the kind of day I thought I was going to have.
"David," Malia finally says to him in a reprimanding tone. And that's all she says. Nothing else.
The car slows, only by a little, but it's still better than before.
"You two suck," David calls out, lazily gripping the wheel with one hand.
"No, you two suck!" I say, figuring now is a good time to bring the conversation back to me. "Where the fuck are we going?"
"To see Jalen, obviously," David replies.
My heartbeat increases so much that I think it might actually burst right out of my chest. "What? No. Why? Are you serious?"
They both don't answer, and David reaches for the radio, turning up a song.
"Oh no," I call out while unclicking my seatbelt, then going between their seats again and reaching for the volume. "Don't try tuning me out after dropping that bomb. Why the hell are you trying to bring me to Jalen? Is that what he wants? Did he tell you to drag me there kicking and screaming if you had to?"
I think back to Daniel and Elijah forcing me to see Jalen, tricking me into it. He had been a part of that.
"Jalen doesn't know we're on our way to him," Malia answers calmly.
"Then why are you doing this? Take me back home," I say, glancing out the window. This highway doesn't lead to Jalen's house. In fact, we're heading towards Queens. I recognize this road from the time Malia drove us to that warehouse party. It feels like a lifetime ago, when I first met and talked with Jalen. The ten months between then and now have been filled with so many memories that the ones from that night almost feel like a dream. But why is Jalen around here now? "Where the hell is Jalen at?"
"JFK," David answers, then pushes the hand I'm using to steady myself off of his armrest. "Now sit back. I need to speed up if we're gonna make it."
JFK? That's John F Kennedy Airport. What the hell is Jalen doing at an airport? The logical thing is to assume he's catching a flight, and since David just said we need to speed up to make it there, I'm gonna go ahead and bet that Jalen's definitely got a flight and they're trying to get me there before it takes off.
But why? If Jalen has no idea this is even happening, then why do they want me there before his flight leaves?
No. No more whys. I don't care. I don't want to see him or talk to him. Especially since he doesn't even know what they're doing, which means he probably doesn't want to see me. He's acted like I don't exist for the past month in school, and he had the nerve to go with Cortney to prom. It's clear he's over it.
"Take me home," I repeat my earlier words, adding more force. "I don't know why you're doing this and I don't care. Take the next exit you can."
"Boulevard, stop throwing out demands like you're the goddamn queen," David says in annoyance. "Your whiny voice is distracting me."
"Well then dump me and my whiny voice on the side of the road," I say, leaning forward once more. "Go see Jalen by yourselves."
"Lyndon, the only reason we're going to the airport is so you and Jalen can talk before he leaves," Malia replies.
I try ignoring the feel of my stomach dropping at her words. "Is he... leaving forever?"
I hate how small my voice sounds as I ask, a dead giveaway as to how I truly feel. David and Malia exchange a knowing glance after I speak, further making me angry with myself.
"No," Malia finally answers, tone a lot softer now. "Just for a week or two. His parents are in Italy, and they sent the jet for him this morning. They said they needed him out there for something."
A week or two. Doesn't sound like much, if you ignore the fact that graduation is coming up. Will Jalen not be there? Did his parents not care about him or them missing it?
"Okay," I drawl out, trying to choose my words carefully. I don't want to look like I care. I don't care. But I can say that all I want, and still know deep down, that I do. "What do they need him for?"
Another glance is exchanged between David and Malia, this one more serious. "They just said family business," Malia answers slowly. "But that part doesn't matter. What matters is you two speaking before he leaves."
I shake my head. "Malia, I... I can't... I don't want to see him."
The words sound and feel true. Seeing him hurts. Thinking of him and everything that happened between us literally makes my chest constrict with pain. I can't see him.
Malia adjusts herself in her seat, loosening her seatbelt so she can fully face me. "You don't want to see him right now or ever again?"
I blank, knowing the answer is right now, because despite how much seeing him hurts, the thought of never seeing him again is still ten times worse.
"Right now is your only chance, Boulevard," David tells me, eyes set on the road as he switches lanes.
"I still don't even get why you're both doing this," I say out loud. "I mean, you two, out of all people, trying to bring me and Jalen together? It doesn't make sense."
"This is my one good deed for the year," David says with a shrug. "I'm crossing it off my list early."
I roll my eyes. "If you really want to do something good, you'd stop being a dick all the time."
He smirks. "I said I needed one good deed, not to transform into a good person... or at least a halfway decent one."
"At least you're self aware," I say with another eye roll. Then I turn toward Malia. "And you. You've been shady as fuck this entire time. Now you suddenly wanna help me and Jalen sort out our shit?"
Malia sends me a deadpan look, then turns back around in her seat and tightens her seatbelt. "You know what, Lyndon. I got a lot of other shit going on, between my pissed off parents and crazy ex. Do you think I really want to be here doing this?" She turns her head so her eyes find mine, but her words and tone has me lowering my gaze. "No, I don't. Yet, here I am, trying to help two people I care about stop hurting... even if it's just a little. You both need it."
I struggle to swallow, feeling like there's something caught in my throat. "I don't need this," I manage to say.
"You both do," Malia insists, keeping her dark brown eyes on me. "That's why I'm here. Jalen's my family as much as you are, Lyndon, and I know that you both need to talk."
I clench my jaw, choosing to stupidly focus on one part of what she said, because admitting that I do need to see and talk to Jalen isn't something I want to do.
Deep down, I'm worried that one more conversation with him will break us completely. Will be the final ending for us.
I can't face that just yet.
"Jalen's just family to you, huh?"
Malia takes note of my sarcastic tone, facing me completely once more with an eye roll so hard I'd be surprised if her head didn't hurt her afterwards. "Oh my god, Lyndon," she calls out in disbelief. "Do you seriously think I want Jalen?"
Her apparent disgust makes me feel stupid. "Well, how am I supposed to know anything when all of you motherfuckers are so fucking shady?"
David chuckles and nods. "You're not wrong, Boulevard," he says as he goes back to zig-zagging between cars to get through faster. "About us being shady. Not about Jalen and Malia. I can assure you they have zero interest in each other."
"Damn, you sound so sure," I reply, gripping the back of his headrest so I don't get tossed around the backseat. "Maybe you're the one I should be questioning. You are really interested in Jalen's life, afterall."
Amusement comes across Malia's face as she glances at David, and when she turns back to me, I already know I've been an idiot for ever thinking she had an interest in Jalen romantically.
"Please, not by choice," David answers, eyes still set on the road as he lets out a chuckle. "I've been stuck watching too many people fall in love with Jalen, my own brother included." He pauses to laugh again, as if remembering Daniel's crush on Jalen. Then he sobers up. "Why do you think I'm even making an effort to bring you to him to fix this?"
David's eyes briefly find mine before going back to the road, and the look has me quiet, not having any response. I wasn't sure why David was doing this. Maybe to mess with me, maybe Malia convinced him to? Maybe the idea of some chaos was too tempting to pass up?
But the look in his eyes, and his tone, makes me truly see why he's here.
He's trying to help Jalen.
"I've seen a lot of people fall for Jalen, and I know what someone who really loves him looks like," David continues, all humor gone from his voice and replaced with rare sincerity. "I'm not letting him leave for who knows how long without talking to you."
My chest starts to feel heavy once more, the weight of his words taking me down. Everything feels different, more serious and important now that David's involved. And the reminder of just how much I do love Jalen has me feeling like the world's biggest idiot.
"I'm not in love with Jalen."
The second the words leave my mouth the car swerves, my body tossed around in the backseat while several cars honk their horns at us. David hits the brakes hard once he's gotten the car to the side of the road, causing my body to lurch forward roughly.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!" Malia screams at David, clutching at her chest with her hands. Her eyes are wide, crazed, as she turns to him. "Why would you do something like that? Do you know what you could've caused?"
I sit up straight and place my own hand to my chest, feeling my heart beat like a jackhammer. David looks at Malia, swallows hard, and then places his hand onto her bare thigh, rubbing gently.
The contact is weird and a little too intimate in my eyes for two people that are constantly going at each other's throats, but I couldn't give less of a fuck about it—not when David almost gave me fucking whiplash.
I punch him in the shoulder, causing him to remove his hand from Malia and rub where I hit him.
I'm ready to scream at him, and hope Malia joins in again, so we can tear him a new asshole for literally almost killing us.
But before I can even speak, David's talking over me.
"You're not in love with Jalen?"
I can't tell if there's disbelief, anger, annoyance, or confusion in his tone. Maybe it's a mix of all and then some.
"Why, are you?"
I figure it's best to move the attention off of me, and continuing to poke at David's close friendship with Jalen just might annoy him enough to drop the topic.
"Man," David says while sucking his teeth. "Even if I was to swing that way, Jalen would be the last motherfucker I'd be interested in."
I lean back in my seat, feeling my heartbeat calm down. Maybe now is my best chance at convincing them to take me home.
"You know firsthand that he doesn't know how to be in a relationship," David continues, keeping his eyes on me as he pauses and then snorts. "Well, at least in a healthy one."
I am so sorry that you think what I just saw was okay.
My dad's words echo in my mind, said after he witnessed the ugliest of Jalen and I's fights.
I feel sick again, less to do with David's reckless driving and more to do with the fact that even David's voicing that our relationship isn't healthy.
"Now, I'm going to ask again," David says when I don't respond, moving in between the two chairs so he's closer to me. "Are you not in love with Jalen?"
I am. My god, I so stupidly am.
But I refuse to say it out loud. Not to them, not to anyone, not even to Jalen or myself.
"Say you're not and I'll turn this car around," David states firmly, and the look in his eyes is full of honesty. "We'll let Jalen leave for Italy and do whatever it is that his parents ask of him."
Something in my stomach drops. His tone and words has me wondering exactly what this family business Jalen's parents need him for is really all about.
His impending engagement to Cortney rings around my head, and though I often like to ignore it and pretend that's not a reality he's facing, I can't do that right now.
Because something is just screaming at me that this is what the trip is about.
"David," I say in a low voice, waiting for his eyes to lock with mine. "Does this trip have to do with Cortney?"
He holds my gaze. "Do you care if that's what this trip is about?"
With the way my chest is tightening, stomach is churning, and heart is racing, the answer is clear.
"I do."
"You do care or you do love him?" David asks, before letting his eyes wander over me and adding, "Or is it both?"
I don't want to answer, and my eyes begin to water, though I quickly blink it away.
Malia lightly pushes David's shoulder, and he gets the message to move out of the way so she can pop her head in. "You don't have to tell us your feelings, Lyndon."
"Yes, she does," David quickly says to her before looking back at me. "If you don't love Jalen, then it's pointless to bring you to him. Why are we gonna make an effort to fix this stupid ass relationship when you don't even love the kid?"
"Shh," Malia says to David, nudging him again so he turns and is completely out of my view. "Look, despite what you think, we," she pauses to side-eye David for a second, "well, I am not just doing this because I care about Jalen. I care about you, Lyndon. You both matter to me and I only want what's in both of your best interests. I feel like a conversation between you two will be a good thing, since you both have things you need to say."
I remain quiet, David's tense shoulders slump, and Malia takes that as a cue to continue.
"You don't have to tell us that you love Jalen, especially if that's a sore subject for you two," she says, sending me a sad look. It makes me wonder what Jalen's told her. "But right here, right now, you have to let us know if seeing him, talking to him, and possibly working this out is something you want. Even if you don't technically want it right now, if you can just see yourself wanting it in the near future, then we need to know. Taking you there, if you don't want to ever be with him, is pointless. It'll only hurt you both, more than you already are. Nobody wants that."
I hate that she's right. I hate it, but I'm not shocked by it. This was why she always knew me best, and was better at cheering me up. Malia was always the wise one. She saw things clearly, for what they were, and didn't let emotions cloud her vision—not the way I do.
"She's right," David voices my thoughts. "This ice cold bitch is so right."
Malia rolls her eyes, then sets them back on me with the kindest and warmest look she's given me since moving back here.
"I don't need a love confession," David adds on, turning back to me. "I just need to know that you're going there with the intention to work on things, not to break each other's hearts or end things for good. That kind of thing can wait till he gets back."
My mind moves a mile a minute, thinking over every damn thing. I keep coming back to the fact that Jalen's leaving for Italy to do who knows what for his family. And if Malia and David seem so adamant that we talk before he goes, I can only assume something's happening with Cortney. Maybe I'm wrong, but I can't take the chance.
I don't know if I'm truly ready to see Jalen. I'm still hurt, and pissed, and broken just at the thought of him, and I'm an impulsive person who acts out solely on emotions.
Jalen's too similar to me in that way.
I'm afraid I'll say something I don't really mean, and he will quickly retaliate, until we're both taking things too far like we have in the past.
I'm terrified that all we have left in us is one last conversation, one last argument, one last confrontation.
But I also love him. I don't know if he loves me, but I know I love him.
And if this is our last shot at us, then I have to take it.
Despite how painful thinking of a final goodbye with Jalen is, the thought of not having one at all—at ending this way—is worse.
We deserve better. I deserve better.
I set my eyes on both David and Malia, straightening my shoulders and lifting my chin into the air. No turning back now.
"Take me to him."
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The rest of the car ride is silent, the three of us not having much else left to say. Even when David goes too far above the speed limit, and zooms through the terminals of JFK and somehow gets past security in order to get into the private lot, we're all quiet.
It isn't until the car stops and David turns it off, that the silence becomes noticeable, unbearable.
"He's over there," Malia practically whispers.
I turn to her, finding her brown eyes on me, filled with a kind of warmth I can finally admit I missed seeing from her. She smiles faintly at me, before motioning with her head to the other side. I follow her gaze, seeing further down the lot that there is a private jet waiting to take off. I see figures standing by it, but I refuse to look any longer to see which one is him.
Taking in a shaky breath, I turn to David, surprised to find his eyes already on me. "You ready, Boulevard?"
"No," I say honestly, removing my seatbelt, "but let's do this."
They follow my lead, and we exit the car at the same time, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder by the driver's side.
"C'mon," David mutters, taking the first step and leading us closer.
With every step, my heart races faster, the sound so loud in my ears I almost don't hear the guards asking us what we're doing here. David's pulling out a wad of cash and dismissing the person seconds later, and then we're back to walking towards the jet.
I spot Jalen instantly, dressed in all black with the hood of his sweatshirt over his head. It's his sharp jawline that catches my eye first, and then it's his blue eyes, landing on us as if sensing someone approaching. I revert my gaze, looking down, focusing on how incredibly white his Nikes are rather than facing him just yet.
"What the hell are you doing here?" he asks, voice sounding more confused than anything as he removes his hood.
We wait until we're closer to speak, and even when there's less space between us, I wait for the others to say something.
Jalen's eyes grow wider as he looks between the three of us, clearly getting more confused by the second. He holds his phone in one hand and uses the other to remove his headphones, before motioning towards us. "What...?"
His voice trails off, seemingly lost for words. I'm not shocked or offended by it. This is a weird ass pairing. Who would've ever thought I'd show up somewhere with Malia and David?
Jalen keeps his gaze on Malia and David, never letting his eyes land on me.
"Don't make me ask again. What is—"
"Oh shut up, you miserable fuck," David calls out over him. "Don't worry about how this happened, just make this shit right so we can all go back to normal." He pauses, looks thoughtful for a moment, then smirks. "Well, as normal as this toxic ass relation—"
He's cut off when Malia pinches him in the arm. "We'll head back to the car to give you two some privacy."
Malia digs her nails into David's arm to drag him behind her, but before she goes, she looks to Jalen then back at me, and nods encouragingly. They disappear after that.
It goes silent again, neither of us even looking at the other. I feel my palms sweat, not used to such an awkward silence. Not with Jalen. I've never felt like this around him.
I'm not even sure what to start off with. I'm still so hurt, and confused, and way too distrustful to even ask him to speak.
When I finally glance up, I find those beautiful blue eyes on me, and instantly any awkwardness disappears. The hurt is still there, so is the confusion and distrust, but the love—the love overpowers it all.
"I..." he begins, before cutting himself off. He places his headphones into their case and his phone into his pocket. "Wait. I just... you wanted to come here? You willingly came here?"
"Yeah, kind of," I tell him. Sure, I was basically kidnapped, but I did end up saying yes, and I did willingly get out of that car and walk over here. "I did."
"But... I thought you didn't... you said..." he trails off once more, seeming unable to even gather his thoughts.
I understand that feeling. I always feel so all over the place when he's involved.
"Look, this doesn't mean anything completely changed, okay?" I begin, realizing he can't even speak without stuttering right now. "We said and did a lot. It can't be erased."
Jalen goes silent, eyes roaming over my face before ultimately landing on my own eyes and staying there. I'm not sure what it is that he's looking for, but whatever he finds must give him some sort of confidence back, because he takes a small step forward and sighs. "I know," he admits in a low voice. "I know, Lyndon. I know it can't be erased, but... I... I'm still willing to try."
"To try...?" I ask, wanting to know exactly what he wants.
"For you. For us," he answers immediately. "I'll do anything for you, Lyndon."
"This sounds too familiar," I say, thinking back to when he had to plead for another chance after the games' revelation.
"Again, I know," he says, voice full of too much sadness to not be genuine. "But I do mean it. I'll be honest, one hundred percent honest, and tell you everything if that'll make you believe I'm done messing around." He takes another step closer, and despite knowing I should step back, I remain rooted to my spot, wishing we could just close the distance between us. But we can't. "This is the one thing I can't mess up," he adds, voice sounding ready to crack. "It's all I care about. It's all I have."
As if it's even possible at this point, I feel my heart break further at his words. I know he's broken, and part of me knows I am too, and that's why I always felt like we worked. Like we were meant to be.
"I'm sorry for not clarifying that shit with Rachel," he begins, looking even annoyed with himself for that one. "You already know about the games, but Lyndon, these people see them as something so important, and when I wasn't keeping up appearances people talked and... God, it's so fucking dumb, I know, but... you seemed done with me and I had to... I swear nothing happened. I just needed people to think it did. I needed my parents to. When they don't see me with someone they push an engagement with Cortney more, and my dad thought he got rid of you after the shit he said."
I flinch at the reminder of that day, what his dad said, and how that was the beginning of the end for us—we just didn't know it, or maybe we did, and didn't want to admit it.
"I promise nothing happened," Jalen continues, voice almost pleading as he tries getting me to believe him. "We talked on the bleachers. Ten minutes max. Nothing else. I can't stand her. I can't stand any one at that fucking school. Just you, Lyndon. Only you."
I feel torn. While his explanation seems genuine, there's still a lot more wrong here that has nothing to do with Rachel.
"And I am so, so sorry for that comment about your dad's affair." Jalen's eyes glance down at the ground, before coming back to mine as he shakes his head. "I can't even justify that one. But god, I am so fucking sorry. Being mad was no excuse because I know how much your dad's cheating hurt you, and I used it against you. That was the shittiest thing I could have ever said."
I nod in agreement. "It was," I say before taking in a deep breath, "but I didn't exactly hold back any punches."
"It doesn't matter," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. "I did worse. So much worse. I haven't even begun to apologize for all the shit I've done to you."
I'm not sure how I feel about that, him so easily excusing whatever I said. Passing the blame is easy, and I'm doing it with my parents, but are the things I've done in this relationship truly not worth addressing?
"That comment about your ex-boyfriend was shitty too," Jalen starts with another shake of his head. "I never saw you as someone I could get to cheat on their boyfriend. That comment was so disrespectful, and I never want you thinking I don't respect you, Lyndon. You're the one person I see as above everyone else. You're smart and driven and, unlike me and everyone else here, you're actually going to fucking go places after all of this."
That familiar tug of pain at my heart appears. I hate hearing him talk himself down like this. "Jalen, don't—" I try interrupting, but he holds up a hand to indicate he has more to say. And the look in his eyes makes me want to cry. It's so obvious how little he thinks of himself, as if he's nothing, when in reality he's everything to me.
"I need to apologize for New Year's Eve," he states, jaw clenching after he says the words. "I think that's the worst thing I did. I made you doubt me. I let you think about it for so damn long when a simple answer could've saved us. Fuck, Lyndon, I am so sorry for that."
I swallow hard and shake my head. "Yeah, but I was the wrong one. You didn't cheat, and you told me that you didn't, yet I still didn't believe you."
"Lyndon, you weren't wrong."
I reel my head back, eyes widening. This motherfucker did cheat on me? I'll kill him.
He waves his hands between us when he realizes what he said. "No, no!" he quickly calls out, reaching for my hand as if that'll calm me. "I didn't cheat. I could never. I know I'm shitty and probably haven't made how I feel clear after all this time because I'm a fucking idiot, but damn it, I'd never do that." His grip on my hand is light and I don't shove it off, feeling my worries subside. "You need to know what you mean to me. The thought of being with someone else could never cross my mind, not when I have you."
I already feel myself melting, ready to give in, and I silently curse myself for being so goddamn weak whenever Jalen's involved.
"I fucked up by never just telling you where I was. Like a stubborn asshole, I refused to just say it."
"Well," I begin, bringing my eyes to his, "where exactly were you that night, Jalen?"
"I was meeting with a lawyer. I thought it was smart to use that time to do it since my parents wouldn't have found it suspicious that I disappeared, which meant I had a lesser chance of getting caught."
A lawyer? What the hell? "You were with a lawyer?"
He nods and wets his lips before speaking. "When Cortney came to the party and made a scene by bringing her own date, my parents were pissed. They thought I drove her away, all so I could be with you, and they threatened to completely cut me off and throw me out if I didn't make things right with her. So, I rushed to meet with my lawyer who I'd already been in contact with to go over the terms of my trust fund."
The only proper word to describe how I'm feeling is shook. I didn't know that any of this shit was going on.
"The original terms of my trust fund was that I'd get it at eighteen, but my parents changed it when I was sixteen... which was also when they first made it obvious that they wanted me to marry Cortney." He pauses to roll his eyes, then gathers himself and keeps talking. "I'd been going to a private law firm without my parents knowing, trying to find a loophole. Don't you remember when we stopped in front of it?"
Oh shit. I do remember, and I had totally forgotten. So much else has happened, Jalen did so many other shady and secretive things that his quietness over those two meetings went to the bottom of the long list. "Yeah, I remember that," I tell him, then lower my voice as I add, "but it makes sense now that you wouldn't tell me what was going on. That was obviously something private, and you needed to keep it secret."
"Yeah, but telling you wouldn't have killed me. It probably..." he pauses again, looking down at me and squeezing my hand once. "It could've, no, would've made me feel better. Because you just... get me. You always have. Even when I refused to let you in."
I feel the exact same way, and my heart feels so full at his words that it might burst.
"Well, I thought you did," he adds in a lower, more hesitant voice, refusing to meet my eye. "But you made it seem like you didn't... you said you...."
He clears his throat, not finishing his sentence and still keeping his eyes anywhere but on me.
But I don't need him to say more, already knowing what's made him doubtful. I told him I didn't love him, that I didn't truly know him.
Guilt courses through me like it has for a while now, and the sad look in his otherwise beautiful eyes makes me realize that seeing him hurt because of me is the worst possible thing I can ever do.
I cup his cheek with my palm without thinking. "I didn't mean the things I said that day. I'm sorry."
"No, don't apologize," he says, swallowing hard. "I deserved that and more. Whether it was true or not. I know you weren't entirely wrong, and I deserved it after all the pain I've caused you."
He doesn't deserve to hurt. "I didn't mean it all."
I want to explain it. Tell him that I do love him, more than I've loved anyone else, probably more than my own damn self. And that I do know him. That despite all his lies and secrecy, I've always known who he is deep down. That I'm so in love with the person I know he is, that these moments where he's hurt and we're not on good terms breaks me.
But I stay quiet, because the words are hard to say, and they get caught in my throat the longer I stare into his blue eyes.
"I know I don't deserve it," he begins in a hoarse voice, "and this feels like fucking deja vu, but I can't fight how I feel. You're stuck in my head and heart, Lyndon Prince. I want to be with you. I always have. Through all the bullshit and mixed messages, I swear I always wanted you. You're... I... you mean everything to me."
You mean everything to me too, I want to say. Even though you shouldn't, you do. You always have.
I stay quiet, taking a moment to think if I should really say those words. Like David and Malia said, this is our time to choose to fix things or not. I need to decide if that's truly what I want.
Jalen's done shitty things and could've chosen better ways to handle our relationship, but he doesn't seem to have known any better. How can he know how to act when he clearly has had no proper guidance? His parents are the worst. The way they treat him is appalling.
And me. I fucked up countless times. But am I to blame when I didn't have proper role models either? My parents' relationship is horrible, so how was I to know how to have a better one?
Our relationship was in no way perfect or better than theirs, but I love Jalen. Shouldn't that mean something? Shouldn't that outweigh everything? It's not our fault we don't know how to do this right. He's willing to try again, so shouldn't we?
No relationship is perfect or one hundred percent right. It's not supposed to be. We're humans, as Elijah once said, we're not supposed to know how to do everything right.
And just like that, just as I'm ready to get my answer and toss myself into Jalen's arms, telling him that I want nothing more than to be his, I freeze.
Elijah.
It's like ice cold water is thrown over me, and I'm left shivering, panicking, gasping for air after, feeling like absolute shit. How could I forget what I did? What I did to Elijah, and what I've done to Jalen? He doesn't even know. He's stood here and listed off all his wrongs, attempting to make amends, and here I am, holding onto what I did.
Jalen senses something's wrong, of course, and mistakes it for me still being apprehensive towards him. "Oh my god, prom," he says while throwing a hand into the air. "How could I have left that out?"
Oh no. Oh my god, no.
"I'm sorry that I went with Cortney," he says, taking both of my hands in his now. "I did it to make my parents think we were all good, and I had no intentions to hurt you by seeing us together. I really thought you were done with me and wouldn't care. And David tried making it seem like you did when you saw us, but I kept insisting you didn't, because you said... I thought..." His voice fades off, and he shakes his head to himself. "Either way, I'm sorry. I'm so, so—"
"Oh my god," I yell out, "stop apologizing!"
Jalen's brow furrows. "Lyndon, I still have so much to apologize for. I don't think these apologies right now have even been enough," he says with a humorless laugh. "I really fucked up everything between us, and this is just my first step of trying to fix it and show you that I am absolutely committed to making this work."
I feel like I'm drowning. Drowning in my fucking guilt. And I can't breathe.
"Because it can, I know it." Jalen steps closer, eyes swarming with too many emotions for me to handle. It's genuine, sorrow, longing, hope, all there, and the sight of it makes it harder for me to catch my breath. "I... I can't imagine a world where it doesn't. We're meant to—"
"Jalen, please stop!" I shout over him, unable to hear anymore.
I can't take it. I can't take hearing how sure he is of us, when I single handedly ruined us in a way that he doesn't even know.
"Lyndon, baby," he calls out softly, reaching a hand to gently wipe under my eyes. I hadn't even realized tears were falling. "I... I'm sorry if I'm saying too much. I don't want to hurt you. I'm trying to do the opposite."
I push his hand away, knowing his comfort is the last thing I deserve.
Hurt flashes across his face, and he takes a small step back, dropping his arms to his sides. "I get it. We're going to need boundaries after everything..."
"I left prom with Elijah."
"Uh, okay?" Jalen responds, brow furrowing further. "I know you were there with Eli, Danny, and your brother."
Hearing the nickname for Elijah is another reminder that, despite how little I see of them together, they are friends. My god, Elijah is Jalen's friend, and that still didn't stop me.
I blink hard to clear my vision of tears, and then I take in a shaky breath, settling my gaze on Jalen.
Slowly, his confusion disappears, his own eyes searching my face before they widen and he takes another small step back.
Jalen shakes his head, and for a second I think his eyes look glossy, but he blinks and it's gone, replaced with a guarded look. "No," he says, voice cracking as he repeats the word. "No. Lyndon, don't... no."
I feel salty tears touch my lips, but I ignore the sting and keep my eyes on Jalen's. "I... I'm... I had sex with Elijah that night."
His jaw clenches, eyes immediately leaving mine. He tilts his head back, looking up into the sky, and I watch as pain, hurt, and sadness flashes across his face. On instinct I reach for him, wanting to provide some comfort, take it all away, but he takes another step back—larger this time.
When his eyes find mine again, his jaw's still clenched and his nostrils flare. Those raw emotions are gone, and replaced with absolute anger.
Fuck. I'm not sure if seeing him visibly hurting is worse than that scary angry face.
But truthfully, I know I'd rather he be absolutely furious than hurt, because seeing him hurt has never been good for me. It fucking breaks me more than my own pain does. I've always valued him and his emotions over my own.
A quick and dark chuckle comes from Jalen, eyes a shade darker than usual. His voice is deep and cold when he speaks. "I guess we're even then, since I fucked Cortney a couple of times after our breakup."
For a moment I'm lost, not able to comprehend the insanity of what he's just said.
But his face is dead serious, and that helps my pure shock morph into anger.
I don't care how big of a hypocrite I am for feeling this way, because he knows my own history with Cortney. I fought the bitch for fuck's sake. She spread personal information about my family just to spite me. She's even done it to Malia. And he runs back to her not just to keep up appearances, but in private to? To be with her completely? Fuck that shit.
"You're disgusting," I say, practically spitting the words out.
Jalen's jaw clenches harder, but he remains silent. He doesn't say a damn thing, just shrugs his shoulders in an I don't give a fuck motion.
And since he won't speak, there's no reason for me to stand here any longer. I turn around and take off with a fast-paced walk. There's no footsteps behind me, no voice calling out for me to wait or come back. Jalen doesn't care.
My blood boils as I walk away, burned with the knowledge that no matter what happens between us, Cortney will always be there. And apparently she does have a hold over Jalen if he right away slept with her. He's supposed to get engaged to the bitch, and rather than opposing it as much as could—at least in private—that asshole fucks her.
Fuck him. I am so over him and all of his bullshit. Fuck him.
A gold Mustang comes into view, and I slow my pace, realizing I'm at least away from Jalen now.
My anger still consumes me, but the heartache begins creeping in. The reality of what just happened settles.
I felt like we had one last confrontation in us, and this—this—was it.
This is how we end. After ten months of knowing and loving Jalen Uccello, this is what I get.
No closure, no happy ending. Just the tainted memories, the numbing pain.
Car doors open and close, and I turn to see both David and Malia standing by the car. I look at them, not sure what to say.
"What the fuck happened?" David asks, stepping closer to me. "We didn't even leave you two alone that long."
"I really don't have time for your bullshit right now, David," I say harshly. "I mean it."
He steps into my view and locks eyes with me, and I can't ignore how sincere and serious he actually looks. "What did Jalen do?"
I feel a hand touch my shoulder, and turn to find Malia's eyes. Her hold is awkward, but her eyes fill with warmth as she tilts her head to the side and nods, as if telling me it's okay to accept her comfort. And despite knowing she'll always be Jalen's friend before mine, I still let her come closer, hesitantly letting her fully wrap her arm around me and pull me into her side.
The gesture washes almost all of my anger, leaving room only for the pain. My eyes water once more.
David watches, clenching his fists as he looks toward the direction I came from. "Do you want me to kick his ass for you?"
"What?" I ask as I reach to wipe a stray tear away, not sure I heard him correctly.
"You came here to try to make it work, to at least talk it out, and he's acted like that was something he would've wanted. But if his goal was just to fuck with you and make you upset then he deserves an ass kicking," David explains quickly, checking his watch. "So I'll ask one more time, do you want me to be the one to do it before he takes off? We got time."
He means it, I can tell he does. This is probably the most truthful and real David has ever been with me.
I shake my head no. Jalen does deserve an ass kicking, but David going over there and doing it just doesn't feel right. Knowing Jalen's being harmed or has to get into a physical fight because of me doesn't feel right.
And the fact that I know I really don't want Jalen fighting anyone because I lo... it makes me want to cry.
And so, I do. For the thousandth time since moving to New York, since meeting Jalen, I cry.
Malia's arm is still around my shoulders, and I can feel her trying to figure out the best way to comfort me.
But rather than giving her the chance to do so, I pull away, and find David's eyes watching me—they're softer than usual, a frown appearing on his face.
I don't know why, but I move forward, and then I toss my arms around him, burying my face into his chest as the sobs rake through me.
"Uh," David says awkwardly, and I feel his hands hanging limp at his sides. "I'm more of the ass-kicker, not the hugger, so maybe Malia can take over."
"Nah, you got this, boo," I hear Malia say to David before stepping to the side.
I keep clinging to him, hands on his back as I hold on and cry.
"Damn it, I guess we're really doing this," David says with a sigh, before I feel one of his arms lightly drape across my shoulder and the other on my waist. "Alright then. Let this shit out, Boulevard."
I do exactly as he says, and I can't even tell what happens after. I feel David nudge me into the car at one point, mumbling something about the jet taking off and us needing to leave, but I don't let go of him or stop my tears. I can't.
I have no idea how, but he maneuvers us into the backseat, allowing my head to rest on his shoulder. Eventually I feel the car move, and hear David warning Malia not to fuck up his baby with her shitty driving. For once, Malia doesn't respond with a witty remark, instead telling him to just shut up and let her focus.
I ignore everything else, truly letting it all out—ten months worth of pain and heartache let loose.
And though I've cried before, this time feels different. This time feels like I'm not holding back at all.
Maybe it's easier to let it all out with David because I don't give one single fuck what he thinks of me, and I know he feels the same about me. Maybe it's easier to be vulnerable with someone I know doesn't care.
Or maybe, deep down, I feel this is the last time I'll do this. This is the last time I'll cry over me and Jalen.
I sob harder at the thought.
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A / N:
I'm pretty sure this is the fastest chapter I've ever written, and it's a little over 10k words. I've been wanting to write this one and post it for a while now. Hope everyone enjoyed the drama (as much as you could).
Reminder that we now have ONE chapter left, then an epilogue and some bonus chapters. Also, thanks to everyone who shared the character they'd like to hear from. I spent a good five minutes laughing because only one person named Jalen, meanwhile, he's the only one I already have a whole chapter written on. Too funny.
Hoping to get the next chapter done in no more than a week. It's bittersweet thinking that this is the end, but I'm really grateful for all of the support, and I'm excited to share the ending with you all.
See you soon. Stay safe!