B O N U S 1
Blue Eyed Boy
Jalen Uccello didn't chase.
He leisurely walked, no real destination in mind. Not enough care to add any effort.
Girls came and went in his world, and he took them as they came and watched disinterestedly as they left. It hadn't always been like that, but that had become his way of living after her.
Elena.
To even simply think of the name used to hurt him. Once upon a time, Jalen had thought he'd never withstand the thought of her face, her voice, her touch. And as time went on, and the pain continued to linger, Jalen was sure he'd never truly get over it.
Maybe he hadn't. Maybe that was his problem. Well, maybe it was one of his problems.
Jalen wasn't naive. Maybe stupid, but definitely not naive. He knew he was fucked up. He knew it. You couldn't live eighteen years in that mind and not at least be able to acknowledge it. He had just grown used to it, okay with it.
The one time he almost wasn't okay with it, the one time he almost didn't think of himself that way, was when he'd met Elena.
That was when he chased, and chased, and chased, until he'd finally made her his. But in the end, Elena's heart never truly belonged to him, and that cold, hard truth smacked him across the face the night of her senior prom.
Left empty inside, with nothing except the title of King and his right hand man David, Jalen vowed to play his role.
He kept his vow. And thus, began the time when Jalen didn't chase. He let things and people come to him, and he never felt the need to go after anything, because he didn't want anything. The one thing he wanted left him, so easily, too easily.
And then she came along, and suddenly, the urge to chase creeped up on Jalen.
It didn't happen right away. It almost didn't happen at all.
Lyndon Prince was just another girl to him—someone else to serve as entertainment and pass the time until he was sentenced to his imprisonment.
Or, in other words, forced to marry Cortney Rousso.
Jalen watched himself in the beginning. Truthfully, he knew she wasn't just any girl. She was Malia's cousin. And the same way that meant a lot to the students of Arlin that either envied or loved their queen, it meant something to Jalen, too. He knew getting too involved with Malia's cousin could cause issues, and if she wasn't fine with it, he'd have cut off all ties from the beginning.
But Malia never said a word about it. And any time Jalen subtly hinted at it, trying to gauge her reaction, she didn't so much as bat an eyelash.
Luckily, Jalen knew Malia pretty well, and he knew she wasn't as disinterested as she pretended. It was as if she knew that—whatever he'd do with Lyndon—he wouldn't intentionally hurt her because she was Malia's cousin, and that was enough reassurance for her.
Jalen would swear, until the day he died, that he didn't intentionally hurt her. He never intentionally hurt any of the girls he'd been with. They'd known what it was between them from the beginning, and if they didn't, Jalen quickly made it clear.
He didn't do relationships. Not anymore.
He always made sure that any girl he gave the time of day wouldn't be the type to form feelings for him. And that's what had made Lyndon hold his interest.
She was smart, so much smarter than him and everyone else at Arlin, and her beauty was otherworldly. He was sure her eye color alone could make any person she wanted desire her. And she had a boyfriend. Her interests were somewhere else, so no matter what came out of Jalen messing with her, her heart would never stray from her boyfriend.
But then they broke up, and instead of cutting off all ties like he should have—like he normally would—Jalen took her out. And then he took her out again.
Taking her to the ice cream spot had been a mistake, it was too different and close to home. The SoHo outing was more his formula: go to places his parents had connections at, who would definitely tell them where they had seen their son and who with.
That brought him back to where he needed to be, back to the mindset of this king the people of Arlin idolized. Someone who didn't get hurt, because they didn't allow themselves too, because they didn't care.
From then on, it was just an attraction. A physical attraction he'd felt plenty of other times with plenty of the other girls he'd talked too.
Constantly being told by Cortney to stop seeing Lyndon helped him want to see her more, too. While being with girls helped with his reputation as King, Jalen's main goal had always been to piss his and Cortney's parents off—hopefully enough to call off the engagement.
It wasn't until, one day, when David pointed out that he'd only been talking to Lyndon and no other girls, that Jalen realized maybe, just maybe, he wasn't acting like the king everyone expected him to be.
David made it extremely clear that Jalen's relationship, friendship, whatever with Lyndon wasn't like anything he'd seen before. Then, he corrected himself.
"Actually, it's kind of like something I've seen before," he'd said, eyeing Jalen with a little bit of annoyance and a whole lot of sympathy. "And we both know how that ended."
Jalen convinced himself that David was wrong. Sure, Lyndon had proven to be a little different from the others, but that was because the girl asked a thousand and one questions.
But through all his convincing and talks in his mind over whether or not David was right, there was something inside of Jalen, bubbling and growing whenever he was around Lyndon, that was sometimes too hard to ignore.
It wasn't until the day she first heard the rumors about her parents. Right after they started fake dating, the students of Arlin quickly began talking about Lyndon and her family, and Lyndon had heard every word of them questioning why her family moved.
The look on her face had caused something in his chest to constrict, a nagging pain tugging at his heart when the tears began gathering in her eyes and she asked him in a broken voice to take her home.
He knew it then, in that very moment, that there was no denying it. Lyndon Prince did the one thing Jalen had tried avoiding—and had been avoiding—for almost two years. She made him feel.
It wasn't long after that he had fallen in love with her. Maybe he didn't completely know it or acknowledge it, but he sure as hell felt it the night they had dinner with his parents. It was the way she handled herself, stood up for herself. The way she completely understood him when they spoke in his car.
She made him feel understood. And that was something no one in his life had ever done. Not Elena, not Cortney, certainly not his parents, and not even David or Malia.
David was the brother Jalen never had, and despite David having one of his own, Jalen knew the boy considered him to be more of a brother than the one he shared blood with. It was a sad thing to admit, but that didn't minimize the truth to it. From the moment they met at eight years old, they'd been tied together, and were certainly bonded after all the shit they'd gone through over the years.
But that didn't mean David understood Jalen. He was his best friend, his brother, one of the few people he could've honestly said he could count on no matter what—but he didn't get him.
Jalen and Malia met a few years after, and sometimes, he felt closer to her than he did David. They knew each other well, but even they didn't one hundred percent relate to the other. Their situations—although both hurtful—were completely different. No one could make them more comfortable than the other, that was for sure, but they couldn't truly understand each other.
Definitely not in the way Lyndon understood him.
Sure, her parents and her had a different relationship than him and his, but she knew how it felt. And for the first time, he felt as if she didn't need to ask so many questions and he didn't need to provide so many answers.
Because she just knew, she knew him, and that was the night he realized that was all he ever wanted.
He clearly remembered Lyndon said, on that night, that she'd want to be with someone and hopefully travel the world. He agreed with her, not because that's what he knew he wanted to do, but because he knew he wanted to be with her.
While she realized in that moment that travelling with someone she loved was her end goal, Jalen realized that being with someone who made him feel understood was his, and Lyndon did just that.
He loved her. But he struggled with how to deal with the feeling. It wasn't the same as when he loved Elena, it felt different. Jalen believed it was because of his position. In the back of his mind, he always felt as if his parents would set him up with Cortney, but it didn't become a reality until after Elena.
And he wasn't King then. He didn't have responsibilities. As silly and ridiculous as those responsibilities and the overall title of king was, Jalen couldn't shake the urge to keep it.
Being King meant he mattered, and as desperately as he wanted to be understood, he wanted to matter too.
Was it such a bad thing to want to matter? To feel important, even with something so trivial?
The things Jalen had to do made him feel like it was a bad thing, but after years and years of being treated as if he were a bad person, he believed it.
Hurting Lyndon was never his intention. Juggling his role as King and as her boyfriend was hard, and he handled it horribly, but not once did he intend to hurt her.
Yet, Jalen couldn't seem to stop hurting her. Because even once the truth came out, and Lyndon—for some goddamn reason he'd never understand—gave him another chance, he fucked up again.
Funnily enough, it seemed like the main problem was that he made her feel like she didn't matter. He wanted to matter so badly to the students of Arlin, that he made the one and only person that truly mattered to him feel like shit.
How was that for irony?
Even now, as he watched her from across the room of the Carrington beach house, his heart felt like it was being tugged on. It was both good and bad, filled with wanting and love and immense anger.
Jalen tried focusing on the anger. She doesn't want to be with me because I've hurt her, but she's hurt me too, and I still want to give this another try. He knew it wasn't fair to compare what they'd done to each other. In the end, it was all wrong, and no one was truly walking away innocent. But he knew he was the cause of it all, and the role he played in their destruction was bigger, more damaging.
But I guess I still feel this way because I love you, and you don't love me, he thought to himself as he watched her laugh with Eli, of all fucking people.
Her saying she didn't love him, didn't know him, after all they'd said and done, hurt more than anything. The look of finality in her eyes when she told him she was leaving was the final blow.
She had made her decision, and she decided that she was done with him. Done with them.
Jalen didn't understand how she could say or feel that. He'd felt heartbreak, denial, and pain before over a breakup, but somehow, the effects of this one were so much more painful, and seemed like they'd never heal.
But he'd said and felt that way about Elena, and he got over that, right?
"Why the frown, Charlie Brown?" a voice teasingly asked from behind, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder.
Jalen turned slowly, smirking, already knowing who it was by the voice and touch. Unmistakeable. Malia stood before him, hauntingly beautiful brown eyes staring up at him.
"I don't think that name works for me. I have too much hair," Jalen responded, lifting a hand to point at his head.
Malia's eyes stood on his. "Yeah, I know, Chewbaca. That was my way of asking if you were okay."
Jalen's eyes darted around the room, making sure no one was listening. He found Lyndon once more, now draped across the armrest, legs uncomfortably close to Eli's arm.
"Relax," he heard Malia's voice say, before feeling her fingers trace his that were tightly clasping the drink in his hand. "You break that glass and it's my ass that gets in trouble."
Her tone was teasing, like always, but Jalen knew the meaning behind her words. "So, how have things been at home lately, Charlie Brown?"
"Now it just sounds dumb when you say it like that," she joked while removing her fingers from his. But her smile dropped, and he knew the conversation needed to be moved somewhere private before going any further.
Almost at the same time, they took off toward one of the bedrooms. He immediately locked the door, knowing people had a habit of walking in on them. It caused rumors to spread, tales of a forbidden and star-crossed lovers romance between them. But they knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.
He turned away from the door, finding Malia laid on the bed, eyes on the ceiling. The position caused the hemline of her dress to creep higher, exposing more skin. It was a move that let Jalen know she was finally comfortable. No matter how many short skirts or tight pants the girl wore, she'd never let anything go higher than a certain length unless she intended for the clothes to be that way. Not bothering to fix the newly revealed parts of her body showed she wasn't on edge—for once.
Jalen sighed, moving to the bed and immediately letting his body fall onto the space beside her. His shoulder collided with hers, his weight making the mattress dip. They laid in silence for several seconds, and Jalen sighed once more—that time, out of relief.
It was always amazing to him how at peace he could be the second he and Malia were finally alone.
"He hates me," Malia said softly after a while. "I mean, I always knew he did, but at this point, he doesn't even bother hiding it."
Jalen remained quiet, having nothing to add to the conversation. Kendrick Carrington was an angry and dangerous man he'd only met a handful of times. He wasn't someone who's bad side you wanted to be on, and unfortunately, Malia knew that firsthand.
"I don't know what to do," she continued, voice growing lower with every word.
Jalen quickly nodded, knowing how that felt. "Same," he voiced his agreement. "I really don't know what to do."
He felt her shift, arm brushing against his as she turned to face him. "About your parents, or Cortney, or... Lyndon?"
Jalen refrained from flinching, embarrassed at how just hearing her name could make him feel. It was like he reverted back to the lovesick sixteen year old he'd been before.
"So I guess it is Lyndon," Malia said, purposely emphasizing the girl's name to tease him.
Jalen turned his head her way, close enough to her face to count every single long eyelash she had. He noticed she didn't have any makeup on. She normally didn't wear a lot—it wasn't like she needed it. The girl was beautiful, admittedly the closest thing he'd ever seen to perfection. But she usually added some anyway. Once, she had jokingly called it her armor, and Jalen suspected that it truly did provide her with some reassurance that there was something separating her from the world.
But she didn't need makeup for that. Jalen knew she hid herself from the world regularly, either too scared to get hurt or not caring enough to try again. He guessed that was the one thing they could understand about the other.
Either way, she was bare faced, and that fucking worried him.
It was like she'd given up.
"It's a lot of things," he answered in a low voice, eyes distractingly observing the rest of her face for any more signs of differences in her appearance. Between them, Jalen was the bigger idiot, but that didn't mean he found Malia to be any smarter for always believing her body and looks were the one thing she had to offer the world. She was more than that, so much more than that. "But that's nothing new. My parents and Cortney problem will always be there. Everything else is just... adding on."
Malia nodded, and he watched as her own eyes observed him in the way he was her. Both trying to figure the other out, because no matter how well they could calm the other down, they'd never truly understand.
Not like Lyndon.
Fuck. He needed to get a fucking grip.
"Some problems seem like they'll just never go away," Malia said after a few moments. "I'm really sorry about you and Lyndon, though. For some crazy reason, I thought bringing her to the airport would solve everything. And then I thought talking to Cortney would fix it. I feel like I made it worse."
Jalen chuckled, causing Malia's pretty face to contort in confusion. "There's no way you made anything worse," he said through his laughs. "We didn't need any help with that."
Malia nodded, joining in with her own laugh. "Well, that's true. You're both huge fucking messes."
The truth in her words—and his own—stung, but that didn't minimize how true they were. That made it hurt a little more, though.
Probably sensing that, Malia touched him again, causing a wave of comfort to flow through Jalen's body. He felt slightly less tense.
"It's gonna be okay," she told him, squeezing his forearm once more.
Her barely there nails grazed his skin, and the fact that her usual claws were missing caused another wave of worry to crawl down his spine. "Is it?"
Malia swallowed hard enough for him to hear it. "Yeah," she said with a shrug, removing her hand. "You're gonna be fine."
"I'm not worried about me right now," he quickly responded, reaching for the hand she removed and grasping it in his own.
"You should be. I'm not the one who might marry Cortney," Malia said, letting that joking tone takeover again.
Jalen let out a breath of laughter, and couldn't help but agree. Not because he hated Cortney, he didn't. He just didn't want to marry her, didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her, and he knew she felt the same.
Maybe he should've hated her, considering some of the things she'd done to both Malia and Lyndon—two women Jalen absolutely loved and cared about. But he could never find it in himself, despite how hard he had tried in the past.
And truthfully, no matter what she did or said, Jalen would still never hate or wish any bad on Cortney Rousso.
In some really weird and fucked up way, he understood part of her. He knew why she did the things she did. Their parents were practically the same people, and Cortney decided to deal with the horrible hand she'd been dealt in life by trying to please them. Jalen took the opposite route, and ended up miserable. Cortney didn't seem any happier than he did, though. That just showed Jalen that, no matter how he or she handled it, there was no winning.
And because there was no winning, that meant they'd both lose. He couldn't hate someone who was destined for a life of misery like he was.
They were bonded by bad circumstances, sometimes being the other's greatest ally when needed, and maybe, if Cortney would drop her delusional goal of pleasing her parents, they'd even be friends.
"I don't know," Jalen said in a singsong voice. "I just might end up loving the married life."
Malia let out a loud laugh, snorting in between, causing Jalen's own cackles to echo around the empty room.
"That's like saying Kendrick might end up seeing me as a daughter, or as an actual human being, one day."
Her laughter continued after the statement, and despite how fucking morbid it was, Jalen continued laughing too. That was how they dealt with their shit. Not dwelling on what was wrong for too long.
Too much was wrong in each of their lives to sit there and discuss it all.
It probably wasn't healthy to always avoid it, but it couldn't have been healthy to always want to talk it out either.
Jalen certainly hated talking, especially about his problems, and that was the biggest issue of all in his relationship with Lyndon.
It was the one thing she couldn't understand about him.
But he was willing to let that go, to continue letting her push him against his will to share everything. She turned it away, though, and made it very clear she wasn't turning back.
Or would she?
Jalen shook his head, trying to shake away the hope the one thought brought to him. It was only two hours ago that she said she was leaving, but from that moment on, he'd been trying to fight off the urge to wonder if he could get her to change her mind. After all, he'd done it before.
"Did Lyndon... you know..." Jalen suddenly said, turning his head to Malia once more, "talk to you about me?"
Malia remained with a blank face, and it slowly killed Jalen inside waiting to hear her respond.
"Not too much," she settled on, seeming to choose her words carefully. "I just know you two aren't together."
"I'm getting the feeling she said a little more," Jalen said while nudging her with his shoulder.
"Oh, she did," Malia confirmed, nudging him back. "But I'm not betraying her trust."
"The fuck," Jalen responded, scowling. "Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"She's my cousin," was Malia's simple answer.
"And I'm your best friend, who—no offense—you've been a lot fucking closer to."
Malia rolled her eyes and sighed heavily, then playfully said, "When will you two stop fighting over me?"
Jalen raised his hand and pushed Malia, not enough to knock her off the bed, but with enough force to move her towards the edge. "You fucking suck."
"Not anymore," she said jokingly.
They laughed, before once again quieting down, engulfing the room with that familiar and favored silence.
Sometime during the quiet, Malia shifted closer, leaning her head against Jalen's shoulder. He quickly responded by moving his arm behind her, clasping her shoulder, and she brought her head to his chest, one arm coming up to rest over his waist. They held each other, and the troubles they wouldn't say aloud began to weigh heavily on them once more.
"I don't want to go home," Malia whispered. "I wish I could just stay here."
"Me too," he responded in the same soft tone. "Me fucking too."
They laid there for however much longer, neither cared enough to keep track. It wasn't until they heard footsteps outside, a drunken Noah calling out that he needed someone to escort him to his room, and that he was almost drunk enough to want it to be Danny, that the two of them realized they'd disappeared for a little too long.
Malia slowly untangled herself from him, and Jalen instantly missed the warmth. Despite his vow to keep to himself and guard his heart, he could never resist the temptation of having a warm body beside him. It wasn't always just about sex. Sometimes, he just wanted someone to lay with him for a bit.
Sometimes, he just didn't want to be alone.
"You wanna go first?" Jalen asked as he rose from the bed, stretching his arms over his head.
Malia shook her head, continuing to lounge on the bed as she reached for her phone. "No, you go first. I'm gonna hang back for a few."
"Just long enough so it's not obvious, right? You're not gonna stay hauled up in here?"
Jalen couldn't help the panicked tone of his voice. It was nice having Malia around, and part of the reason for why it was so nice was because she was as equally and openly fucked up as him. Not being the only one made him feel a little, tiny bit better. But sometimes, the worry was too much. Knowing as much as he did about her past and present issues made it clear she had it worse than him, and it left him with an incurable headache when he thought about it for too long.
"I'll be out in ten minutes, like we always do," she told him, sending him a sharp smile, before motioning for him to go.
It was probably stupid, and so much more incriminating, that they chose to leave a secluded room at different times. But the chances of running into people and being questioned to their faces, having crazy theories thrown at them, was too overwhelming. Jalen learned over the years that as long as people weren't talking to his face, he couldn't give less of a fuck what they said behind his back. Malia seemed to adopt that same way of thinking, and Jalen knew it came from him.
"Alright, I'll see you," he said from over his shoulder, already placing his hand on the doorknob.
Malia usually never replied, always finding it silly that he refused to say the word goodbye. Goodbyes just seemed too final for him, and as someone who spent his childhood waiting for his parents to come home and most of his teenage years waiting for his first love to come back, he couldn't take the finality.
He shuddered as he twisted the knob, thinking back on the finality in Lyndon's voice before.
"I'm leaving for Miami tomorrow, then when I get back, I'm leaving for Brown. And I'm going to be single."
"See you," he heard Malia say from inside the room. He turned to see her eyes still on her phone.
Malia was much more familiar than him with goodbyes. Truth was, she'd dealt with actual goodbyes. Jalen's parents always returned, eventually, and he'd heard from Elena once after everything, eventually. Malia dealt with actual losses, never hearing or seeing from those people again.
He shook the urge to return to the room and question her, knowing it would just agitate her and make him feel uncomfortable. As someone who hated revealing too much, he could never push someone else to do it.
So no matter how unsettling hearing her actually give in to him and say bye his way was, he wouldn't push it. He'd be there for her when she eventually said she needed him, and that was all that mattered.
Seemed like his life was just full of a bunch of eventually's. Eventually, his parents came home. Eventually, Elena reached out. Eventually, he'd be engaged to Cortney, and eventually, he'd marry her.
Will Lyndon eventually give me another chance?
The tug of his heart hurt once more, and while he was wrapped up in that feeling, he didn't see the person walking by him. He narrowly missed knocking into David, who reached out a hand to steady him.
"Jay, you good?" the boy asked, keeping his hand on Jalen's shoulder while his other clutched a full bottle of liquor. Typical David.
"Yeah, yeah," Jalen said distractedly, still thinking of the possibility of Lyndon coming back for him. He then looked to David's hand still on him, feeling grateful for the support. "Thanks."
"Didn't do anything besides save myself from being knocked over," he said in a serious tone, but the glint in his eyes made it clear he was joking.
Jalen sent him a small smile, unable to muster up a witty reply. This seemed to change David's mood, and the glint in his eyes quickly changed to something more serious. Pity.
"Don't you fucking dare," Jalen instructed, brushing off David's hand and raising a finger toward him. "I'm good."
"Yeah, sure you are," David said sarcastically, tossing in an eye roll at the end.
Jalen sighed, glanced around the empty hall, then turned to David once more. "You know," he called out, taking a step closer, "you never said I told you so. I thought that would've been the first thing you'd say once you knew how I felt about her."
Half of David's lip lifted into a smug smile. "I don't need to say what's already obvious." Then, the expression fell, replaced once more with something more serious. His eyes clouded with concern as he stepped closer to Jalen, placing the boys at a distance that could've looked odd to others, but was normal for the two who considered the other to be their true brother. "I wouldn't kick you when you're down. And you are clearly way down."
Jalen reached out and pushed David, causing him to almost fall on the floor if he hadn't caught himself on the wall—managing to save himself and that damn bottle.
"For a second there, I thought you were gonna be nice," Jalen said while watching his best friend stand upright once more.
"Ten years and you still don't know me, huh?" David teased with a loud cackle.
"I didn't know who you really were."
Jalen felt his fist clench unconsciously at the memory of Lyndon's past words, and he quickly let go, but David still saw it and frowned.
"If it makes you feel any better, for the smallest second, I was actually rooting for you two," David said, wincing as if it physically pained him to admit that.
"That doesn't make me feel any better," Jalen responded with an eye roll. "If anything, that makes me feel more like shit."
"Oh," David commented, letting his eyes awkwardly sweep the hall before they returned to Jalen's. "Then, uh, I got nothing."
Before Jalen could decide whether he wanted to reply with more verbal banter or push the jackass again, a shadow down the hall caught his attention. As if his body knew who it was before his mind did, Jalen clapped David on the back as a see ya later and took off.
He walked down the hall until he reached one of the many dining rooms in the beach house. It was the only place that had emptied out, left only with the candles that hadn't been blown out yet, causing a light to illuminate around him. His eyes quickly found and settled on her body, long legs carrying her to the table the candles were on. Before she could continue putting them out, she froze and turned, as if she sensed she was being watched—sensed him.
"Jalen," she said, closing her mouth after, seeming to have nothing else to add.
Jalen stood there, silent and probably looking stupider in her eyes, because he had no idea what to say. It couldn't have been more than three hours agos that Lyndon broke his heart all over again, telling him she was leaving, and yet, it felt like it was longer, or shorter, he couldn't tell. When it came to her, time stood still.
"I thought you left," she said, turning back to the candle to continue what she was doing. She seemed to change her mind, turning around and taking a small step back, maximizing the distance between them.
The tug at his heart intensified watching her move away from him. She felt further away than she already was.
Jalen swallowed and took a cautious step into the room. The candles lit up one side, providing the only guidance, but all he could focus on was how they looked around her. Her eyes seemed whiter, taking on a new shade he didn't even know existed. But everything about this girl seemed to surprise him.
Lyndon was always finding ways to throw him off. It seemed to come easily to her, even if she didn't have any idea just how much power she had over him.
"Did you want me to leave?" he asked, voice sounding foreign to his own ears because of how low and unsure it was.
This isn't me. This isn't who I am. What have you turned me into, Lyndon?
He shook his head, not wanting to pass any more blame onto her. This was his fault. All his fault. He ruined her. Not the other way around. Everything was on him.
It was why she didn't love him. He didn't earn it, didn't deserve it. And she knew that.
"No," she said, voice firm despite the way she seemed to try shrinking herself by wrapping her arms tightly around her upper body. "Malia's your friend, and we're celebrating her birthday. Of course you should be here for that."
"But do you want me to be here for it?"
He hated the desperation in his tone. But that's exactly what he was. Desperate for her attention, her acceptance, her love. Despite this picture Arlin painted of him, Jalen never truly was that guy. He needed the validation, the praise. He needed someone to tell him he was wanted, that he deserved to be here.
Jalen certainly didn't think he did.
He heard Lyndon sigh, and watched as her rising agitation danced across her face, along with the shadows of the candles flames.
He looked away, not strong enough to handle the fact that he'd once again pissed her off. That seemed to be all he could do.
"I do." He finally heard Lyndon's voice, despite how small and unsure it was. When his eyes found her again, he watched her arms fall to her sides, and the single, shaky step she took toward him. "I shouldn't, but I do."
He wanted to ask her to elaborate, and almost felt like laughing at wanting to question her, since he hated when she did that to him. But his need for reassurance was different from her curiosity.
"I wish you weren't leaving me," he chose to say instead, wanting to be honest after all the other lies he told.
Another sigh fell from her perfect lips, and he wanted nothing more than to cross the room and silence them for her. "Brown is the best university for me, Jalen."
He nodded, because he agreed. Education didn't mean shit to him, but it was the world to Lyndon, and she deserved to study at a school that would satisfy her.
But he didn't mean he wished she wasn't leaving for school. Or for Miami for the summer.
"I know," he said, taking a risk and stepping closer. "I'm glad you're going. I meant..."
He ended his sentence, unsure if he should continue or not. He watched her reaction, and resisted the urge to smile when he saw her eyes get bigger—like they always did when she was left at the edge of her metaphorical seat, eager to hear any revelation someone would make.
Though he hated her questioning him, he loved what drove her to do it—her curiosity. It was a part of her he'd slowly grown to love, and now he couldn't think of a day where he'd ever not love it.
Taking another step closer, placing them a few inches apart, Jalen said lowly, "I wish you'd stay with me. That you were still mine, and I was still yours, and we were together. I don't care if it's here or there, or anywhere. As long as I'm with you, I—"
"Jalen," she called out, raising a hand to stop him. He couldn't help noticing her eyes watering, and he instantly worried he'd upset her once more. Why couldn't he stop hurting her? "Please... please don't do this."
Her almost white eyes darted around the room, and for a second, Jalen wondered if Eli was nearby. He felt a rush of anger flow through him at the thought, at the knowledge that they'd been together at all.
But he pushed it aside. Deep down, he knew Eli was better for her. Almost anybody would be, it wasn't like he was tough to beat. He knew that Lyndon deserved the best, though, and after knowing Eli for so long, he knew there was no better option for her than him.
That didn't mean he liked it, or that he wouldn't still try to somehow be the guy Lyndon deserved.
It was an impossible task for him, but Jalen couldn't live with himself if he didn't try. He could barely live with himself now.
"Lyndon, I..." He was going to say the three words that had been weighing so heavily on his mind and heart since the first night they were truly together.
He had first felt it then, and honestly wanted to just drop the entire charade and say it, but the overwhelming guilt was too much to bear, and he stood quiet. Instead, he'd asked if she was sure, and when she said yes, he pushed his guilt and confession aside as best as he could and didn't turn back.
In all honesty, he should have asked himself if he was sure sleeping together and officially becoming a couple was a good idea. He knew it wasn't, still knew it wasn't now, but he couldn't and still couldn't fight the feeling.
I love you, Lyndon Prince. I have for a while, and I can't see a day where I'll ever stop.
Why couldn't he say it out loud? He needed to say it to her. She needed to hear it.
Maybe he'd get lucky, and hearing him say it could make her realize she felt it too, and confess her own love.
That was his rare optimistic way of thinking. It was more likely she'd be angry, just like she was the first time he'd told her the words.
Or worse, she'd think he was lying. That was all she saw him as anyway, and with good reason. He was and always would be a liar in her eyes, and he had no one but himself to blame for that.
Either way, he had to say it. For himself and for her. She needed to know she was loved.
"Lyndon," he repeated, regaining his confidence and finally determined to say, "I—"
"I don't want to hear anymore," she cut him off, waving a hand around and stepping to the side. "I asked you to stop, Jalen. Could you please just do that for me?"
He swallowed hard once more, then nodded. He'd only selfishly thought of himself, and she'd made it clear she didn't want to hear it, so he closed his mouth.
She took in a shaky breath, glancing at him once more. "I'm gonna head to bed. I'm leaving early tomorrow."
With those words, Jalen felt his stomach drop, the reality that she might truly be gone forever sinking in.
"I..." she said, voice trailing off as she seemed to think to herself how she should end her sentence. "I hope... um..."
Jalen remained quiet, barely breathing as he waited for her to finish. Anything she said couldn't possibly be worse than what had already been said between them.
Unless she says goodbye. I don't think I could survive a goodbye from her. Not her.
Lyndon finally took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and looked right into his eyes. "I hope this isn't the last time we see each other," she said, taking a step closer, bringing them back to the little distance they had between them seconds ago. Her words ignited a spark in Jalen's chest, bringing him hope. "But I know it should and will be for a while," she continued, squashing a little bit of the small hope she gave him. "It has to be."
He stood silent once more, not sure how to respond. He made it clear he wanted her back, that he didn't want any significant amount of time to go by before they saw each other or spoke again. What else was there for him to say, besides that he loved her more than anything?
It was seeming like that was something she really didn't want to hear, though.
Lyndon didn't seem upset by his silence, especially compared to how she used to always seem to hate it. Instead, she simply watched him, the way he watched her, and it felt like a thousand words were exchanged between them, it was just that neither could hear what it was that the other was saying.
That wasn't shocking. After all, their biggest problem had always been communication.
"I feel like it won't be, though," Lyndon whispered lowly, after what felt like hours of silence. Jalen tilted his head to the side, not understanding what she meant, and she thankfully elaborated. "I don't feel like it'll be too long before we... see each other," she explained, speaking slow as she seemed to pick her words carefully. "I know that it should be, because we both need time. I need time."
Jalen nodded, willing to agree to whatever she said, especially if it meant they had a chance, and that it'd make her happy.
"But I'd really prefer if we didn't," she continued, voice cracking as she said the words. "I... I need this time away from you. I can't go away thinking we're gonna get back together, and I can't leave you here thinking we have a definite chance."
"That's fine," Jalen quickly said, trying to convince her that it was okay. "I'll be fine. You go off and do your thing, and I'll be here waiting—"
"No," she said firmly, taking a step closer. Her eyes held Jalen's, looking the most intense he'd ever seen. "No waiting. We can't do that. I'm going off as a single woman, who's not thinking of an ex-boyfriend I need to come home to."
Her words hurt like hell, but he smiled anyway. "Then go off thinking that. I'm okay with it. I'll be here, and when you come back we could—"
She ended his sentence again, this time by reaching for his hand. The touch of her soft skin on his was enough to shut him up for the night.
"Jalen, I..." she froze, eyes widening, before she regathered her thoughts and started again. "Jalen, I care about you, and I don't want you sitting around waiting for something that I'm not sure will happen."
"You mean... us?" he asked, squeezing her hand and tugging her closer.
She let him pull her closer, and squeezed his hand in return. "There is no us, and there might never be an us again. I need you to understand that."
It was a hard pill to swallow, but Jalen was slowly starting to wonder if she was right. And that both scared and hurt him more than he ever thought something like this could.
Should I tell her I love her now? So she sees how invested I am, how hard it is for me to think we'll never be together again?
"It's not fair to you to keep thinking we have a chance of being together when we most likely don't," she continued in a much too soft tone for the harsh words she was saying. "I don't want to give you false hope. I..."
She stepped closer, leaving them practically chest to chest. Jalen wanted nothing more than to pull her flush against him, trace his lips over hers, and tell her they'd be together again, he knew it.
"I don't want us to keep hurting each other."
Jalen pulled away at that, finding her eyes and losing all thoughts of holding her close.
He didn't want them to hurt each other either. He didn't want to hurt her anymore.
"That's why we're not together right now," Jalen argued in a gentle tone. "We can learn in the future how to not hurt each other, though."
Lyndon smiled sadly at him, reaching up to cup his jaw. He felt weak at the light touch, but his heart felt far too heavy at the look in her eyes.
"We're not together now because all we do now is hurt each other. If we tell ourselves we're gonna get back together, we're only hurting ourselves more. We can't keep holding onto... this." She used her free hand to motion between them, then grabbed his hand after. "I don't want to come back to what we had, because what we had was hurtful. I don't want either of us thinking that this is what we want. If we somehow do cross paths again and try, it has to truly be a fresh start. And neither of us will get that fresh start if we don't... let go."
He refused to accept her words, no matter how right they might've been. But he was done arguing with her, angering her, hurting her. He'd done enough of that already.
And what right did he have to ask her to fight for their relationship when he was the one that ruined it? If she said it was over, and wanted it to be truly over, then the least he could do was let her say her peace and remain quiet.
Jalen nodded, then finally pulled her close like he wanted, holding onto her tightly. Lyndon surprisingly let him, and he wasn't sure if he felt her sigh against his shirt and hold onto him just as tightly or if he imagined it, but he didn't dare question it.
Finally, they pulled apart, and Lyndon smiled before stepping away. "I really need to head to bed. Goodnight, Jalen," she said, lingering in the doorway. "I'll... uh... see you."
Jalen smiled, the first genuine and true one he'd had in a while. "Goodnight, Lyndon. I'll see you."
She walked off after, and he stood in the room a little longer, taking it in before putting out the candles and heading to his room.
He made a pit stop at David's door, expecting him to answer and hopefully they could talk. Jalen's head felt fuzzy, and maybe his asshole best friend could actually help, even if they just sat around drinking and bullshitting for the night like they usually did. But after three hard knocks, there was still no answer.
Jalen sighed, finding it weird that David was already asleep, but knowing everyone must be exhausted after the past two days of partying. Maybe sleep was what he really needed.
He got to his room, stripped himself of his clothes, and practically crash landed onto his bed, already dreading waking up and finding Lyndon gone for who knew how long.
But before Jalen could cling onto the thought of Lyndon never leaving him in his dreams, a loud ringing pulled him out of his slumber, and he groggily reached for his phone.