I was jolted out of my sleep.

Blurry-eyed, I steadied my vision enough to see Lucas on top of me.

His grip tight on my shoulders as he shook me awake.

When was I even asleep?

I’m on the couch.

Yesterday’s clothes.

My phone next to me—

No.

Not next to me.

On the floor.

It must’ve fallen.

Lucas’s words started cutting through my confusion.

“Why! Why, Noah! Why would you go back there!”

“W-What?” I stuttered.

I reached up, grabbing his hands.

Still tight.

Too tight.

I’m…

I’m scared.

“Lucas,” I breathed. “Lucas—you’re hurting me.”

I wasn’t used to this sight.

This situation.

This feeling while under Lucas.

Under him was finally starting to feel like the safest place on earth.

But not right now.

And that hurt.

A tear slipped down my face as I looked up at him.

And I saw it happen.

Saw it hit him.

His hands let go of me so fast it almost hurt worse.

Like he couldn’t believe where they’d been.

On me.

Hurting me.

He backed away immediately.

Too fast.

Like distance could undo it.

I slowly sat up.

We stared at each other from opposite sides of the couch.

“Jesus,” Lucas whispered.

Then louder—

“Jesus, Noah, I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I swear.”

His eyes moved over my shoulders.

My arms.

Like he was checking for damage.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Did it bruise? Let me see.”

“You’ve never hurt me physically before.”

His face dropped.

“Noah…”

“Lucas, you scared me.”

“Noah, please.” His voice cracked. “Please. This is going to kill me.”

I wiped my face with my sleeve.

“He said you were with Victoria.”

“Yes.” Lucas rubbed both hands down his face. “Noah, I got assigned to be her bag holder while she shopped at the mall.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“My punishment.” His laugh came out bitter. Hollow. “Coming in late meant I wasn’t allowed home. I wasn’t allowed to call you.”

My chest tightened.

“I swear Dylan’s trying to hit me where it hurts most.”

Lucas leaned forward.

Elbows on his knees.

Face buried in his hands.

“And…”

The word felt heavy.

“I know.”

He looked up.

“Know what?”

“About Ethan.”

Something changed.

Small.

Fast.

Sharp.

“Noah…”

“I know you know him.”

Lucas sat completely still.

“I know he’s going through what I went through.”

“Noah, I can’t stop what’s happening to Ethan.”

My throat tightened.

“And…”

Lucas looked up fully now.

“And what?”

“I found it.”

“Found what?”

“The gun.”

Silence.

“The gun you were hiding.”

“Noah…”

“Why would you hide something like that from me?”

“Noah, I—”

“Have you used it?”

His face changed.

“Have you?” I asked.

“No.”

“What’s next?” I whispered. “Are you going to shoot somebody?”

“That’s not why I have it.”

“Well, it’s a gun.” My voice cracked. “What else would you need it for?”

“Protection.”

“From what?”

Silence.

“What is going on?” I snapped.

“Nothing makes sense anymore.”

“Noah—”

“No, Lucas.”

My breathing felt uneven again.

“You knew Ethan.”

“Yes.”

“You know Dylan.”

“Yes.”

“You hid a gun.”

“Noah—”

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Please.” His voice broke. “I don’t want to.”

He doesn’t want to.

Not can’t.

Doesn’t want to.

And somehow—

That hurt worse.

“I needed you.”

The words slipped out quietly.

Broken.

“I needed you and you weren’t there.”

Lucas closed his eyes.

Just for a second.

Like it physically hurt.

I grabbed my phone from the floor.

And walked away.

“Noah—”

I ignored him.

Bathroom.

Door.

Lock.

Click.

Immediate.

Lucas hit the other side a second later.

“Noah.”

Door handle.

Jiggle.

“Please.”

“Go away.”

“Noah.”

“Go away.”

“You’re not…”

His voice changed.

Fear.

“Please tell me you’re not hurting yourself in there.”

“I’m not!”

My voice cracked.

“I’m not.”

Silence.

“I’m on the phone.”

Another silence.

“Please…” I whispered.

“Get away from the door.”

My words came out broken.

Just like me.

I opened my call log.

Hit call.

Ring.

Ring.

“Noah?”

“Hey, Mom.”

Immediate silence.

“Hey, baby.”

I swallowed.

Hard.

“Honey?”

My chest tightened.

Tighter.

“Mom…”

“What happened?”

Nothing.

Everything.

“Mom…”

My voice cracked.

“Can you…”

Silence.

“Can you come get me?”

Nothing.

Not for a second.

Not for two.

Then—

“I’m leaving right now.”

Outside the bathroom—

I heard Lucas stop moving.

“Thanks mom.”

Click.

I waited awhile on the bathroom floor.

Just waiting.

Trying to gather the courage to leave.

My back pressed against the wall.

Knees pulled to my chest.

Arms wrapped around them tightly.

Holding myself together.

And then it hit me.

I should shower.

I didn’t want to go out there.

Didn’t want to face Lucas yet.

Maybe if I stood under hot water long enough—

Maybe everything in my head would quiet down.

I got undressed and stepped inside.

The water was cold at first.

Then slowly warmed.

A great place to hide tears.

Maybe I was an idiot for going to Dylan.

A desperate idiot.

Maybe Lucas was right.

Maybe I shouldn’t have gone.

Maybe—

No.

Because Ethan.

Because the gun.

Because Lucas knew things.

Because none of this made sense anymore.

I leaned my forehead against the shower wall.

Closed my eyes.

And let the water hit the back of my neck.

When I finally got out—

It hit me.

The smell.

Bacon.

I froze.

Is Lucas cooking?

After everything that just happened?

I dried off slowly.

Bought myself time.

Wrapped my towel tighter around my waist before stepping out.

The apartment felt quieter now.

Different.

Less sharp.

But heavier.

Once I got into the bedroom—

I stopped.

My clothes.

Folded neatly.

On the bed.

My bookbag beside them.

Lucas heard me ask my mom to come get me.

He knew.

And he—

My chest tightened.

He wasn’t kicking me out.

He would’ve packed everything.

Wouldn’t he?

That’s good.

I think.

I got dressed.

Slow.

Pulling my hoodie over my head felt harder than it should.

Then I walked toward the kitchen.

And stopped.

Fresh bacon.

Eggs.

Grits.

Already plated.

Lucas sat at the table.

His own plate untouched.

He looked up when he heard me.

And somehow—

That felt harder than him yelling.

For a second neither of us said anything.

The kitchen felt too small.

Too aware.

My eyes drifted to his plate.

Untouched.

Mine had been plated first.

Of course it had.

“You should eat before it gets cold,” Lucas said quietly.

I swallowed.

Hard.

“I’m not really hungry.”

The corner of my mouth almost twitched.

Almost.

And somehow that hurt too.

Silence settled again.

Heavy.

Breathing.

The air was thick with tension.

I looked at the food.

Then at him.

Then away.

“I was gonna head to the library for a bit.”

Lucas went still for half a second.

Not dramatic.

But noticeable.

“Okay.”

Okay.

That word again.

No fight.

No argument.

No asking me to stay.

My chest tightened.

“Can you put mine up for me?”

Lucas nodded once.

“Yeah.”

I rubbed my hands against my hoodie before turning toward the bedroom.

The apartment felt strange now.

Not unsafe.

Not safe either.

Just…

Different.

I grabbed the bag Lucas packed for me.

That twisted something in my chest all over again.

Folded clothes.

My charger.

My notebooks.

He thought of everything.

Of course he did.

I slung the bag over my shoulder and headed back toward the front door.

My hand stopped just before the handle.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

Behind me, silence.

Then—

“You’re welcome.”

I closed my eyes for a second, then walked out.

And headed toward the library.

The library was lighter than the apartment.

Not tense.

Just soft, cool air.

Pages turning. Keyboard clicks. The low hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

Normal sounds.

Safe sounds.

I sat near the back by one of the tall windows with an open book in front of me I hadn’t actually read in twenty minutes.

My phone sat beside it.

Face up.

Every few seconds my eyes drifted back to it without thinking.

Nothing.

No texts.

No calls.

Part of me hated that.

Another part didn’t know what I’d even say if Lucas did call.

Outside, students crossed campus in clusters. Laughing. Talking. Existing normally.

I wondered what that felt like.

I turned another page without processing a single word on it.

“You know,” a voice said softly, “most people blink at least once every five minutes while reading.”

I startled slightly and looked up.

A girl stood beside the table holding two books against her chest.

Shoulder-length brown hair tucked behind her ear on one side. Big brown eyes. Oversized sweater sleeves covering half her hands.

Familiar.

“I’m kidding,” she added quickly. “Mostly.”

I stared for half a second too long before recognition clicked.

English class.

Leana.

She smiled a little when she realized I finally recognized her.

“Hi, quiet guy.”

“Oh.”

Brilliant response.

Her smile widened slightly.

“Nice to know you can speak.”

“Sorry,” I muttered automatically. “I just—”

“You don’t talk much. I know.”

There wasn’t judgment in it.

That was new.

She glanced toward the empty chair across from me.

“Can I sit? I’m supposed to meet someone here, but he’s late, and standing around makes me feel like an NPC.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“You know. Background character energy.”

Despite everything—

A tiny laugh escaped me.

Small.

Broken.

But it was something other than anxiety.

Leana noticed.

Her expression softened immediately.

“There you go,” she said gently. “You looked like you were about two seconds away from evaporating.”

“I’m fine.”

“That was a very convincing lie.”

I looked back down at my book.

She sat anyway.

Not pushy.

Just… there.

And weirdly—

That didn’t bother me.

“You always sit in the back corner in class,” she said casually. “I figured you either hated people or were secretly writing poetry about them.”

“I don’t write poetry.”

I haven’t since high school, actually…

“Damn. There goes my theory.”

Another tiny smile pulled at my mouth before disappearing.

Leana leaned back in her chair slightly.

“You okay?”

I didn’t expect that from her.

Not loaded.

Not demanding.

Just kind.

Too kind.

“I’ve had a weird day.”

“That’s fair.”

She didn’t ask for details.

Didn’t pry.

She just nodded like that answer was enough.

And somehow—

That made me want to say more.

“My parents found out something,” I admitted quietly. “They weren’t happy.”

Leana’s expression shifted carefully.

“Bad reaction?”

I thought about my dad’s face.

His voice.

The slap.

Lucas yelling.

Me shaking.

“Yeah.”

Her voice softened.

“I’m sorry.”

I stared down at the page again.

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I know. I wanted to.”

Silence settled between us.

Not awkward.

Just quiet.

Safe quiet.

“My dad sucks too,” she offered lightly after a minute.

I looked up.

She shrugged.

“Not in the same way, probably. But enough that I moved out the second I could.”

“You live on campus?”

“Yes, and I love it.”

There was relief in her voice when she said it.

Her phone buzzed.

She checked it and rolled her eyes fondly.

“Boyfriend finally remembered I exist.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

The question came out before I could stop it.

Leana grinned.

“You sound surprised. Or were you going to ask me out?”

“No, I just—”

“You think I’m too annoying to date?”

“No!”

She laughed softly.

“He’s sweet. Chronically late. But sweet.”

Something in my chest twisted unexpectedly.

Not jealousy.

Just…

Distance.

Watching someone talk about love like it was easy felt strange.

Like hearing another language.

“You should smile more, by the way,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“You look less haunted when you do.”

I stared at her.

And for the first time all day—

The tightness in my chest loosened slightly.

Time slipped strangely after that.

Conversation came easier than I expected.

Mostly her talking.

Small stories.

Class complaints.

A rant about cafeteria coffee tasting “emotionally aggressive.”

And somehow—

I kept answering.

Little things.

Tiny pieces of myself.

Enough that when my phone finally buzzed, it startled me.

Mom.

My chest tightened instantly.

I answered quickly.

“Hey.”

“Honey, I’m outside Lucas’s apartment.”

Oh.

Right.

Reality crashed back in immediately.

“I’ll come down.”

“You okay?”

My throat tightened.

“Yeah.”

Lie.

“I’m coming.”

I hung up slowly.

Leana watched me carefully.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” I said automatically.

Then quieter—

“No. But… I will be.”

Her expression softened again.

“Well,” she said gently, standing and gathering her books, “for what it’s worth, I’m glad you talked today.”

Something about that made my chest feel heavy.

Because no one ever really said things like that to me.

Not outside of Lucas.

“Thanks,” I said quietly.

She smiled.

Then headed toward the front entrance.

And the second I stepped outside, I saw Lucas leaning against the brick wall.

His head tilted back toward the sky like he was trying to hold himself together.

I was startled when I saw him.

“Who is she?” Lucas asked.

He didn’t even look at me.

“J-just a girl from English class…”

How long had he been there?

How much had he seen or heard?

I didn’t do anything wrong, but looking at him like this made me feel like I had.

“Okay… I guess your mom’s here?”

“Yes.”

I said, holding my book tighter than before.

“Is it okay if I walk you to her?”

“Yeah.”

The walk was quiet.

I didn’t know what to say.

And I guess Lucas was thinking about Leana.

I wanted to say something.

Tell him not to worry.

Maybe apologize.

But my mouth wouldn’t budge.

When we got to the apartment parking lot, my mom was already waiting outside her car.

The second she saw me, she hurried over and wrapped her arms around me.

“Noah, baby, I’m so sorry. Thank you for calling me. Everything is going to be okay. I put your dad out again. He’s not allowed back at the house for now.”

My mom squeezed me tighter.

Lucas drifted away.

My mom kept apologizing.

Wouldn’t let me go.

And Lucas was already on his way back into his apartment...

Our apartment.

“Mom, stop. It’s okay, really. Let’s just go.”

“Lucas went back up?”

“Yeah.”

My mom went quiet.

She stared up at the apartment building for a moment before sighing and getting into the car.

I followed.

At first, the drive was silent.

But I knew my mother’s head was flooded with questions.

“Noah...?”

“Yes, Mom?”

She kept her eyes on the road.

“Are you and Lucas okay?”

My heart started to pound.

Because I didn't know.

Not anymore.

“I think so.”

“You think so?”

I looked out the window.

The campus was slowly disappearing behind us.

“I don't know.”

My mom was quiet for a second.

“Did something happen?”

“Yes.”

The answer came out before I could stop it.

She glanced at me.

Concern immediately appearing on her face.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

Too fast.

Too defensive.

“No. Not really.”

My mom's grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

“Not really?”

I looked down at my hands.

“He grabbed me.”

The words sounded worse out loud.

Mom's eyes snapped toward me.

“What?”

“He was upset. For me. He didn’t mean to.”

“Noah.”

“He let go as soon as I told him he was hurting me.”

Silence.

“He's never done anything like that before.”

My mom sat with that for a moment.

Then shook her head.

“I swear to God, Noah...”

Her voice cracked.

“If that boy hurts you after everything you've already been through...”

“He won't.”

The answer came immediately.

Certain.

“He wouldn't hurt me on purpose.”

Mom didn't look convinced.

“He said he only treated me badly in high school because he was trying to stop himself from having feelings for me.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Mom laughed once.

Not because it was funny.

Because she didn't know what else to do.

“Noah.”

“I know.”

“I watched what he put you through.”

I stared at my hands.

“I know.”

“I watched you come home crying.”

My throat tightened.

“I know.”

“And now I find out your father was hurting you too.”

That was the thing that finally broke her.

Tears filled her eyes.

She tried to blink them away.

Failed.

“Mom...”

“No.”

Her voice cracked.

“No, because I keep thinking about you going through all of that by yourself.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“And I didn't know.”

“Mom, I'm fine.”

“You are not fine.”

The words came out sharper than she'd intended.

She immediately softened.

“Honey...”

Her voice broke completely.

“I don't care who you love.”

Another tear fell.

“I don't care if it's Lucas or anybody else.”

She swallowed hard.

“I just want you safe.”

I felt my own eyes start to burn.

“I know.”

Living with a gun doesn’t exactly scream safe to me but…

“I just want you to be happy, Noah.”

For a second neither of us spoke.

The only sound was the tires against the road.

Then she reached over and squeezed my hand.

And didn't let go.