City Park was devoid of any noise if it weren't for the crickets and the occasional fallen leaves I stepped on. The air grew still and chilly, the coldness wrapping itself around my frame. Tonight had become the night my escape from the house was a necessity—and it truly was no one else's fault if it wasn't mine.

Despite my mind wandering off to the past, it tiptoed around Evan Parker, and all his glory of sinful little smiles and occasional remarks which made me do a double take. Even if his presence were not needed at the moment, I couldn't shake onto the need of wanting to see him here.

The tables had turned, indeed—and it was funny how I would've traded my life for not being alone with him, and I almost wanted to see him right now. The reason still remained his absence from school and the tenseness among the guys, but I could use a little reassurance, too.

I walked a little across the cobblestones before the air had gotten too cold to be stayed in. Tiredness seemed to catch up, too, and my shoulders hunched and eyes felt droopy when I took a final turn to examine the swings which stood many feet away. I could picture Liz and I on the swings, much like how we were at the age of seven—and the thought was enough for me to sprint right out of the park.

I collided with someone instead.

My reflex was to tumble a good number of steps away. A hand gently tugged at my wrist to stop me from crashing on the floor, but I shook out of the grasp. Panic ceased my features and restrained my limbs before I could raise my eyes from the floor.

Evan stood in front of me, attire beyond dressy and eyes fixated on mine. Even in the propelling darkness, his frame of dark locks was vividly evident, and so was the brightness in the pair of eyes looking right back. By the time I had fully recognized him, he stood several steps away—hands crossed and poise all-too intimidating. I waited for him to start talking, but that was a bit too much to ever ask for.

"Hey," I began, voice faltering before I even came to point. "Why weren't you at school today?"

He didn't utter a word, and I just stared at him like my life depended on it. "Evan."

After a while, I reckoned that I was, indeed, getting the silent treatment. I mocked a laugh, pursing my lips. He was closer, somehow—or maybe it was my brain conjuring up things—but I was hurt when he refused to speak anything to me. His face was morphed with conflict, eyes still holding onto the stare which could break ice.

"I don't have to answer you."

I looked back up to see if he was joking. If he was, there would've been the smallest smile running along his lips, eyes playful, and posture friendly. None of that happened. I barely knew him, and boundaries were to forever be respected—yet, I knew the coldness in his tone hurt.

I pretended to be so aloof that it came off satirically.

"Sure, of course. I'll just leave, then."

When he turned around to face me, I knew I wasn't going to be gone anytime soon. His voice was fitting in the air, dangerously chilling and rough. "Why are you here today?"

"I. . .I need to clear my headspace. I thought we had already been over this," I chuckled lightly, words panicked.

"I said today. Why today?"

At this point, it was getting ridiculous—both the weather and him. "I gave you the reason already, but since you are so adamant on finding out the truth then you can have it. You are a reason today. What else am I supposed to do when your own friends make such a huge deal out of you being absent for a day?"

"You came here for me?"

I just peered over, hands fisted inside the pocket of my hoodie and cheeks burning. Of course not, I just like to suffer in the coldness of midnight—and now you're making me wish I didn't.

Evan's eyes were anywhere but on me, hands still to the sides. I tried to take one calculated step towards the exit again, but he had stepped in before me.

"Stop worrying about me," his face was so near that I could see the tilt of his nose up close and the slight gray in the eyes. I had often wondered if battles with poison rain left scars, but now I knew they did. They glowed like burning embers—and a slight touch could scathe forever.

"Stop. . .whatever you're doing for me, okay? I don't want to. . ."

He paused, but I didn't say anything.

"Just stop, okay? Stop thinking about me. If I don't come to school one day, I don't want you on my back."

"Sue me for being concerned for a friend, then," I demanded, hands flying in the air. In this moment I truly wished to have not left my house today, since anything was more appealing than having this talk with him.

His laugh was what took me off-guard. "You don't even know me," he paused for a second, eyes meeting mine. It was a bad move to look right in them—since they could hold me captive forever.

"I could get to know you," I proposed, hands and tongue tied. "How friendships generally work—"

"Laura," he rose a hand. "Stop. Just leave."

What?

He wasn't done. "I don't want to do anything with you."

For a reason unknown, his words stung. For what? I had barely known him for a month, and we had constant bickering as a form of communication anyway. It was for the best—even if I wanted anything but.

I didn't want anything else, either. I had stopped wanting much.

"Fine" I blurted, voice pitchy and cheeks heated. He didn't want to do anything with me, or so it seemed—and it was clarified for the best right now, before I ended up giving him a bigger place in my life.

"Goodnight, Evan."

With that, my feet took off.

▂

"Do that one more time," Stella grunted and paused, hitting her shoes on ground. "and I wouldn't hesitate to step on your face."

Raymond scoffed, eyes still glued to his burger. His dirty blonde was messed all over his forehead, something which barely made his eyes visible. "I don't think that is much of a threat, Stella. Try harder."

I rolled my eyes while Xavier passed her a discreet look—eyes beyond mischievous. It really was no lie that he risked his life everyday just to steal food from her plate, but he enjoyed it too much to care. There was something about the guys which never felt strange or uncomfortable—like a warm blanket on a winter night: earnest and beyond lively. It always made my mind divert from how similar the Cafeteria looked to my previous schools', a thought that weighed me down and left a bitter aftertaste.

Evan was sitting a table across, eyes occasionally darting towards mine. He sported a grey hoodie and listened to some music through his headphones, mouth twisted downwards. I dared not to look at his direction, only keeping my eyes focused Stella and Chloe, but couldn't help glancing from time to time only to see how uncertain he looked. My heart felt torn too, especially after that conversation with Liam, and the knife just dug deeper when things didn't go as planned.

Reluctant lines spread on Stella's forehead when she saw the tenseness between our gazes. "I can see you ignoring him."

"No, shit," I rolled my eyes.

"From the looks of it, he wants to talk to you," Chloe added. Nothing went unseen with them, and it was both a blessing and a curse. I thought somebody wanted nothing to do with me, I thought, and then scoffed. The bell rang soon enough, and my answer remained dragging the girls to Biology.

▂

Days were a blur nowadays, mornings conflating into nights in a matter of seconds—or so it seemed. Back in Tennessee, it was almost as if a painful nightmare were unfolding in front of my eyes: slow and steady, holding me captive—as though I had fallen deep into a warren I could never get rid of.

Whilst Liam did the dishes, I hummed to the music I played in the background while cleaning my study table drawers. I couldn't meet or call Stella after the incident in school, but I was still sour about the whole ordeal. Despite feeling like the need to talk to someone, Liam couldn't be the person right now. He minded his own business—and from the looks of it, he didn't want to be bothered. I could imagine what his schedule was after this: burying himself in the heaps of assignments and books he had to read for English Lit, all while crying about it the same.

The contrast between us was comedic gold. He radiated energy in a workspace, never not ticking things off his list—while I, on the other hand, was the personification of an assignment done an hour before the submission: rough on the edges, panicked, and the bare-minimum. It was the only way I functioned, I realized—and the chaos just seemed to add to the spice.

My mom dropped me a lot as a kid, what can I say?

With the excessive serotonin now fueling my system by the music I had opted for the cleaning, I sat down on my bed to do a class reading before going to bed early. Today seemed like the perfect day to get my life back on track, and correcting my messed-up sleep schedule was the first thing on the list.

What I hadn't expected, however, was a call from an entirely unknown number. At 11.30 P.M.

I never picked up calls from numbers I didn't save, but something made me grab my phone in a bizarre keenness. The line was silent for the longest time, and I almost hung up. The air ran cold, somehow—probably because I forgot to shut the windows while retreating back to my bed—and secured my skin with countless shudders.

"Is this. . .Laura?"

My mouth had dried up by the time the voice reached me, reminding of the hallucinations I hadn't had in months.

• • •

hey! how are you doing? i hope you're doing well. i have been quite consistent in uploading chapters if i say so myself, and would continue to do so as long as i can—but my finals are starting soon, and it's been a whole mess trying to prepare for them. if i miss out on updates sometime, just know that school is really hard atm! i love you, take care of yourselves. you're golden