for Kay, who awes me with her artwork and is such a pretty little peach

Landon goes first, gripping onto Ford's shirt as soon as we all stumble out of the bowling alley. The clouds are dismal and grey, and a light rain is falling onto the five of us as the world seems to weep for a friendship that feels more like turmoil now than it ever has. "What the fuck is your problem, huh?" Landon hisses angrily into Ford. "You think you can just walk in here and take advantage of Leah, again?!"

"Landon—" Ford starts, but is interrupted by Landon's fist colliding with his jaw.

Ford stumbles back, almost losing his footing, before coughing furtively. Landon isn't used to violence, and since Ford is being surprisingly nonviolent I think Landon is taking this chance to be aggressive. Ordinarily, Ford would easily kick Landon's ass because of his athletic background, but for some reason Ford is letting Landon hurt him when a simple push could have Landon lying on the ground in pain.

"Listen here, Turner," Kendra towers over Ford like a dark horse. "I don't remember ordering a class A ass hole from the alley diner so I don't really know why you're raining on our parade, but for whatever reason you need to make it a habit to NEVER do it again."

Kendra and Ford used to be so close. Ford always got her jokes, no matter how dark and sarcastic which only caused a strong bond between the two. I used to be so jealous of her because of how easy it was for them to talk and laugh, and I even thought that he had the hots for her at one point in time which only made my jealousy even more evident. But now that I'm watching her verbally abuse him in a way that seems more like bullying than just a silly argument, I take back all of my jealous thoughts and remarks towards them. What she's doing sickens me to my core, and they don't even know what didn't happen between us.

Landon pushes past Kendra and lands another punch in Ford's face before he stumbles and falls over, blood spewing from his nose as a pained cry escapes his lips. That seems to be the last straw for me, because I forcefully shove my way out of Brady's arms and run as fast as I can in the pouring rain while situating myself in-between Landon and Ford. "Stop!" I plead, my voice cracking from the combination of the freezing rain and my raging emotions. "Please, stop!"

Landon's eyes are dark and unfamiliar as he speaks, the rain having flattened his dark hair so that it sticks to his face in an ominous and dark way, "You don't have to defend him." Landon growls. "Not this time, I won't fucking let you."

"Will you at least just listen?!" I hopelessly look back and forth from Kendra to Landon. "He wasn't trying to take advantage of me, he was just ... just apologizing."

"Leah, you don't have to lie for him." Brady's soft voice breaks through the thundering rain.

"Why are you so quick to assume that I'm lying?" I sharply ask him, immediately becoming defensive over myself and Ford as I so commonly do. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that he's actually done something nice? Are you all that pessimistic?"

"Why is it so easy for you to believe him all of the time?" Landon hotly fires back, stepping forward so that he's mere centimeters away from me. "For fucks sakes, Leah, even when you weren't in love with him you were such a fucking push over."

"I'm not a push over." I meekly mutter.

"That's all you've ever been." Landon spits hotly.

"Hey," Kendra reaches for Landon's arm and attempts to pull him back. "Ease up, okay?"

"Fuck you." Landon snatches his arm from Kendra's grasp with his eyes still trained on me. "And fuck you too, Leah."

"Landon." Brady snaps, shoving him back until he's a good foot away from me. "You need to fucking chill before I punch you in your fucking face."

Landon, knowing that Brady could actually do some damage, tightens his lips and runs a hand through his wet hair. "Fine." He decides, looking back at me. "But I'm leaving." He looks at Brady, who nods, and Kendra, who looks at me for an answer.

"I'm staying." I decide.

The three of them hesitantly look down at Ford before simultaneously deciding to leave together. Landon drove us all here, so i don't actually have a ride, but I could honestly care less. The three of them leaving just goes to show that we were never on the same page about Ford and probably never will be, but if they're going to choose to be heartless jerks than so be it.

With a shiver and a sigh, I turn around to Ford, who's sitting on the ground still, panting softly. I slowly crouch down in front of him and, with cold and shaking fingers, gently grip his face and turn it so that he's facing me. Even in the rain I can make out the tears streaming down his face, and the way his breathing is so weak lets me know that Landon's punches and his words affected him. Everyone thought that I was the sensitive one but it was always Ford. He's the one who cried during Old Yeller and made me take the blame for it, he's the one who didn't like to cuss because it was dirty, he's the one who stood up for the disabled kids when people would talk about them behind their backs. Sure I was—and still am—a big baby but I'm not the only one.

"We should get you cleaned up." I murmur, trying not to be affected by how transfixed his gaze seems to be on me. "Where's your car?"

Slowly, Ford reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the keys to his father's truck, the truck that I fell in love with and in. I take a deep breath before taking them and standing up. When Ford doesn't move, I'm reminded of his cry of pain and how funny his ankle looked when he fell. I reach back down and wrap his arm around my shoulders before wrapping my own arm around his torso so that he doesn't suffocate me while I carry him towards his car. It works, and soon we're safe inside of the truck and driving towards my house where I know I can clean him up without my parents waking up because of how heavy of sleepers they happen to be.

About fifteen minutes later, I've successfully carried Ford all the way upstairs and into my private bathroom. I sit him down on the toilet seat, and quickly search through the secret compartment behind my mirror for some rubbing alcohol and bandages, along with toilet paper. While I was downstairs I grabbed some ice and put it in a plastic bag because I knew that Landon's punches couldn't possibly as weak as I expect them to be. I seem to be right too, because as I close my mirror cubby and turn to face Ford the bruises and cuts seem to cry out for help. There's three bruises total: on his chin, his nose, and his left eye. Cut wise there's about five little ones: two on each cheek and then one on his lip.

I sigh shakily, emptying out the ice cubes and rationing them into pieces of toilet paper so that there's enough for each bruise. Then I remember how his ankle is most likely messed up so I ration a little less to make room for that. I'm so busy and confused that I don't even hear Ford call my name, and I don't notice that he has been until I feel his warm hand on my wrist—halting me from moving anymore.

"Leah," He says, his voice sounding almost as constricted and pained as mine so often is. "You don't have to do this, I'm fine—really."

"Don't try it, Turner." I manage to say, a small smile gracing my lips. "You can lie as much as you want to the rest of them but it never worked on me."

Ford smiles as well, letting go of my wrist and allowing me to continue. I wet some tissue and begin to wipe the blood from his brow, and when that's done I get some rubbing alcohol and dab all of the cuts on his face. He doesn't so much as wince, most likely pretending that it doesn't burn. I know for a fact that whenever he'd scrape his knee it'd be a mess trying to heal him because of how sensitive and dramatic he used to be. Now though, I'm not so sure. When I've finished with the cuts I get all of the bundles of ice and tell him where each goes and make him promise that he'll take care of them, really promise me because I know that he forgets things very easily and that I probably won't see him again to remind him.

"Okay," Ford scrunches his eyebrows at the bundles, most likely having already forgotten which goes where. "I promise I won't forget."

"Okay," I giggle, throwing away all of the bloody tissues before washing and drying my hands. "Well let's head downstairs and get you home."

I look at Ford, and all that I can see is the familiar boy that I've been missing for the past year. "Well ... what if I just stayed here for the night?" Ford proposes.

I inhale sharply. "Sure." I quickly respond.

Ford beams before attempting to stand up and then immediately sitting back down. I laugh, making my way over to him and resuming our carrying position until I set him down on my bed. From there I head outside of my room and towards the hamper that sits by my parents door, which is convenient because Ford's going to need some clothes to sleep in and I don't think that either my moms or my pajamas will do. So, I dig around for a pair of my fathers dirty pajamas and then make my way back into my bedroom.

"Hey I found my dads—"

I squeak when I enter my room to find Ford sitting on my bed, his bare chest gleaming from the moonlight slithering through my blinds. He's not only shirtless but also pantless, showcasing his defined six pack, solid V-line and lean legs that seem to sprout with hair. I've seen Ford in a lot less—obviously, he took my virginity—but it's been so long that I've completely forgotten just how gorgeous Ford is. The body, his personality, and a killer smile are just a few reasons why it's so easy to fall in love with Ford Turner.

"Oh, sorry." Ford laughs lightly, picking up his soaked clothing from the floor where they lay. "They were just so wet and cold that I—"

"You're fine." I interject with unintentional quickness. "I mean–it's fine. These are for you anyways."

"Thanks," Ford takes them and slips into them with ease, the long sleeve orange cotton shirt fitting on his lean frame with some room and the blue and black flannel pants almost too large. "Your dad always did have great style." He sarcastically comments.

"That and my mothers cooking were always their best skills." I outwardly shudder.

"Remember when your mom made pancakes and we used them to play hockey on your dinner table?" Ford reminisces with a laugh.

"Yeah!" I laugh as well while digging through my drawer for a dry pair of leggings and a long sleeve tee that I bought from our last summer vacation destination. I change with absolute quickness as Ford's attention is directed on my bed. "And when she heated those chicken wings in tinfoil and almost burned the house down?"

"Oh God," Ford laughs obnoxiously, taking me way back to when that sound was just as common as birds chirping in the spring time.

"Those were great times," I sigh, plopping on to the bed before Ford joins me.

"They really were." Ford agrees softly, gazing at me with unfamiliarity written all over his face. It's like he's just now seeing me for the first time since I've brought him to my house, and I can't help but feel like something's about to happen.

When we were younger, I'd dream of moments like these. Being alone with Ford, our eyes locking, our bodies wanting nothing but each other. It definitely isn't all it's cracked up to be—with the wet hair and clothes and I didn't exactly imagine Ford with bruises and cuts lining his face. But still, I'm just as bubbly and excited as I was when I was a little kid wishing upon a star for this moment. Though my skin is slightly freezing, Ford makes up for the warmth as his body innocently brushes against mine while he snuggles underneath my covers. The moon continues to only focus on him, contouring his face so that the bruises seem more like beauty marks than acts of aggression, and his sharp cheek bones cut through any doubts or fears that I had about him. Right now, it's just us--Leah and Ford, Ford and Leah.

"I'm sorry about Landon," I find myself blurting, lying on my side so that I can soak up all of his beauty in utmost clarity. "I'm sure he didn't mean what he said."

Ford smiles softly, "You and I both know that he did." He murmurs. "It's a miracle that I'm even here with you now." Ford turns his head and looks directly at me. "Thank you, by the way."

Unable to hold his glance, I cast my eyes downward. "No problem."

"And I'm sorry that I ruined your night," Ford continues with his sympathy—as if I'm the one who got pulverized. "But in my defense you didn't look too happy when I found you."

"That's because I wasn't." I chuckle lightly. Feeling my emotions begin to spur, I busy myself by sitting up and slowly undoing my french braid.

"Do you mind me asking what was wrong?"

I press my lips together, knowing that what I'm about to say might take the moment that Ford and I have and stomp all over it. "No offense, but you don't exactly deserve the right to know."

And he doesn't. No matter how much I love the boy, it's not fair of him to think that he can just walk back into my life and try to fix everything. He had his chance to do that, he had his chance to be my rock and he completely blew it. That's not to say that I despise him—I love and miss him dearly—but what Brady told me was way too personal to share, and Ford and I aren't anywhere near the personal level that we were before he left.

"You're so right," Ford laughs lightly, much to my surprise. "I probably shouldn't have asked, but I've always hated seeing you cry. Even when I was the cause."

"It wasn't you," I assure him with a small smile. "At least not this time."

Ford sits up as well, and takes my hand as it completes its plight through my tangled brown locks. The movement not only sends lightning through my veins but reminds me of Brady, which hurts my heart and soul to think of at this moment in time. Not only do I not feel like ever speaking to him again, but I also feel like I've betrayed him by helping Ford. I mean, I've betrayed all of them but Brady is such a sweetheart that it stings me the most to know that I might've hurt him.

"Hey," He begins, rubbing soft circles onto the back of my hand with his thumb. "You know that no matter what, I'm always here for you, right? Even through all of this—" Ford gestures to my window, as if the night sky holds all of the peril that we've been through in the past year. "I'm always here."

"Okay," I smile, and attempt to release Ford's hand but he grips on even tighter.

"Promise me," He orders with eyes so vulnerable that I could puncture them with a feather. "Promise me that you'll never forget."

I look down from his hand and up to his brown eyes. This—tying my heart up into a situation that I can't refuse—is such a Ford move. I can recall countless times when he'd do this to me, from when we were little kids staying up too late at night to just a year ago when Ford would come to my doorstep drunk out of his mind and needing a place other than his own home to crash. I want to kiss him and hit him at the same time for doing this to me, but I know that only one of them prevails over all. I love Ford too much to ever refuse him, and I wish that I could say that I'm disappointed but I'm not. I'm used to this feeling of hopeless devotion.

"I promise."

↣↣↣↣↣↣

When I awake to the sound of shuffling, all I know is that it's late. My eyes take a moment to focus in the dark before landing on Ford as he hastily attempts to pull on his now dry clothing. My breath hitches in my throat, loud enough for Ford to hear as he turns and glances at me warily.

"Leah," He breathes softly before zipping up his jeans.

"You don't have to go." I croak.

"It's almost morning." He pointedly replies. "We've got—"

"I don't just mean from here." I sit up slowly. "We can talk to Landon and Kendra and Brady, maybe get them to see you differently for once. You weren't even doing anything wrong last night, right? You were just trying to apologize, a-and they completely overrea—"

"I can't." Ford interjects, and I can detect the broken tone in his voice that matches my own. He must be trying to hold back tears just as much as I am. "Leah you know I can't. Not with the team a-and the entire school—"

"Right." I nod bitterly. "Wouldn't want you to forget about the status quo and consider your true friends. That's just insane."

"You know that's not what I mean." Ford argues with slight aggression. "You don't know these guys Leah—"

"And maybe I don't want to." I hastily throw off my covers and with wobbly knees make my way over to Ford until I'm standing right in front of him. "Is that really so bad?"

Ford sighs softly, momentarily dropping the golden boy facade and actually becoming real. "No, it isn't." He looks up at me. "And I admire you for that, I really do. But I can't do what you want, at least not now. Please respect that."

The tears welding behind my eyes begin to spill, leaving a hot trail in their wake. "I love you." I murmur, just wanting to say anything to get him to stay—even for the night. "Does that mean anything to you?"

Ford shakily inhales, before gently cupping my cheeks and planting a soft kiss onto my forehead. He doesn't move away, he holds it for such a long moment that I'm able to place my hand a top his and relish in the moment as a soft sob escapes my lips. Over and over again he continues to remind me that I am not his and he is not mine, and over and over again I try to convince myself otherwise. Why, might you be asking? It's the question of the hour, of the year, of the lifetime, and no matter how many nights I lose staying up and thinking about it I just can't seem to formulate an answer. And maybe that's why he always seems to win.

"Goodbye Leah," He whispers into my skin.

I leave my eyes closed, trying not to listen to the sound of his breath decreasing in volume, or the sound of his limping footsteps getting farther and farther away. I don't even move when I hear the sound of his truck starting and driving out of my driveway. When I finally am able to breath and open my eyes, all I know is that Ford is gone, and while I know that I'll be shedding tears over him throughout the night, I also know that Ford didn't just take a piece of me with him this time.

He took my heart.

↣↣↣↣↣↣

a u t h o r s n o t e:

this was so painful to write omg. it needed to be written though, because I believe this is the turning point for Leah.

what'd you guys think? another action scene in the beginning and then it got emotional near the end, so sorry for that. i hope you guys enjoyed this though, no matter how annoying Leah must be lol.

in case you haven't noticed i brought back an old story, SPRING, so after reading this you guys should go and show that some love ❤️. but other than that, i'll see you all next week!