It's been a week since we landed back on Atlantan soil and... honestly, it's been fricking disastrous. It's been... tense... for want of a better word

I was devastated to leave New York and vowed to myself I would be back, no matter what, I will return. It's like my body awoke being in the City. After we'd been to the bookstore and had to endure Shakespear I met up with Helen and Shirley and we went shopping on Fifth Avenue... yeh fricking Fifth Avenue... seriously... Shirley held my arm the whole trip and bought me things that could probably fund me moving halfway around the world let alone the country. No matter how much I tried to protest she wouldn't listen, said as much as she loved Blaze and would never change him she always wanted an elder granddaughter to take shopping and do more girl things with. Being the only woman in a family of boys can be testing at times, she said... I swear my heart could have burst. Just spending time with grandparents who like me and want to spend time with me, my cracked heart was stitching up. I even got to join in the monopoly game the Becketts play every time they visit New York, the one they played at Christmas when I Facetimed Blaze. I don't think I had ever laughed so much, Bennett helped Gemma cheat, Shirley spent half the time reprimanding him and Helen just kept trying to scam Blaze. I sat on Blaze's lap in the warmth of the fire, his nose nuzzled against my neck, lips grazing my shoulder and I couldn't have wished for anything better, a family. My family.

But each day since we've got back Blaze has been getting... worse, firstly it's still kind of awkward between his mom and him. They talk and they're amicable but it's like there's a line they've crossed and neither one knows how to clamber back. Helen's worried he's going to fall back to his 'old ways' but I don't think he is, I just think he needs time and he needs to talk about what's going on in his mind. It's like as soon as the plane touched down a flip switched and he's back to being the moody pain in the ass I first met.

I've tried but he just brushes me off with a half-assed smile or a grunt saying 'he's fine' and pushes me to do something 'productive' so I'll leave him be... which brings me to the second reason I think he's in a slump. He's been mithering all week about how he's not heard anything from Alabama. Seeing me in New York and how happy I was... I think he's scared. Christ, I'm scared- it scared me how much I loved it there but I think he's scared he's either not good enough to get into Alabama and have nowhere to go, which is impossible because he's got offers from practically every team, or he's scared of what's going to happen... to us.

It feels like this invisible but heavy cloud over our heads, neither one of us wanted to breach the topic, scooting around the bigger issue. I wouldn't say we have...bad communication but I will say we're both petrified of opening the conversation up because we don't know where it will go. It's hard for us both to trust people and it's not an overnight thing, building trust sometimes takes decades. I trust Blaze more than anyone but it's still hard and normal to be scared.

We both understood the consequences of starting something with the end of the year looming over us and we took the risk, a risk I won't ever regret, but it's never seemed more real than now.

And finally, he's mentioned in passing snippets of how he's feeling but mostly about the situation with his dad... I know it's really cut him up and I want nothing more than to take the pain of that from him but when he won't talk to me about it I don't know how to help other than remind him I'm there for him. Helen is working with Brady's mom on the legal stuff, trying to sort restraining orders but that won't stop him, he'll easily walk through a piece of paper and that worries Blaze.

I sigh shutting my locker door, my cheek falling to the cold metal in defeat. Students bustle in and out of the classrooms rushing to lockers and classes but the noise reverberating around the hall doesn't seem to bother me today like it usually would. In fact, I welcome the unsolicited noise as a break from the endless miles of shit in my mind.

"Atty!" A voice tears through the rest, closer and more focused. I turn my neck to see Rutherford smiling, hands still cupped around his mouth and Emily wincing from the loud sound. Carrie, Vixxie and Brady follow behind. I muster a smile and greet them as they congregate around my locker.

"Hey! We've been calling you for ages." Carrie puts her arm around my shoulders, eyebrows pinched with concern.

"Sorry, daydreaming." I force a chuckle.

"Where's Blaze?" Rutherford asks peering further down the hall as if his words will magically make him walk through the double doors.

Ditching. Didn't want to get out of bed. "Oh, he's sick."

"Fuck, it must be bad then. Blaze never misses practice. He literally turned up with flu last year." Rutherford looks behind me to where Brady's arms are resting on my shoulders, he hasn't said anything this morning, not even an overly flirtatious hello.

"Yeah" I mumble, craning to look up at Brady, he gives me a small smile and Carrie seems satisfied with my answer as she delves into something Marco said to her in history. I'm not really listening and I feel slightly guilty but they don't seem to notice. Eventually, the bell rings down the hall and the mad dash of students starts again.

I peel off the lockers and move to follow our group to the science block, Rutherford, Emily and Carrie have geography but their class is near our science lab. As I fall into a line with Vixxie and Carrie something hooks around my waist and draws me back. What the-

I fall back into Brady flush to his abdomen, he looks at me from above and loosens his grip a tad so we're walking side by side, arm still around me but far enough back from the group they can't hear us.

"Whats up-"

"Sick my ass. How's he doing really?" I let out a rush of relief.

"Bad, B. He wouldn't get out of bed today." I feel Brady nod his head as I try and push the lump in my throat away.

"I don't know the ins and outs of everything that's happening at the moment and I know how screwed up he gets when his dad comes around but I know his dad isn't the only reason he's all wonky this time, right?" He questions, I nod my head, thankful I can talk to someone about this.

"Yeah, I think New York was a wake-up call in general. He's scared he's not going to get into Alabama after seeing me at Julliard. It reminds us... of the distance that would be put between us... wherever we end up." My breath catches in my throat. "I know he's going to get into Alabama, it's just a matter of time and I know that he can get through whatever this is but I just feel so useless, I just want to take his pain away, I want to do something for him." My eyes glass over and I know B can see when he tucks me closer to his chest and squeezes my arm.

"Oh my beautiful best friend, you already do so so much for him, more than you probably even know. This is hard on him but it's hard on you too. You have to think about yourself too," I look up at Brady confused, "I care about you both and I'm there for you both, I love you guys together and I love you as separate people. So when Blaze is like this, an ass, look after yourself and take a step back so you don't get overwhelmed." I stop in the middle of the hall and glance up at him, his dirty blonde hair falls onto his forehead above his vibrant eyes and curls slightly at the end. His smile is warming and manages to uncoil some of the muscles straining so hard in my body.

I wrap my arms around him and squeeze, "Thanks B. I'd never step back from him but I appreciate what you're saying. I love you too."

"I know you wouldn't and that's what makes you to danm amazing Atlas. You're good for him and all of us. You're my best friend as much as he is." He places a kiss on the top of my head and squeezes me once more before pulling away and tugging me down the hall, " He knows I'm there for him right?" He pales slightly and I lean into his arm.

"Of course he does." I smile and follow him into the science block, my heart melting at how cute B can be sometimes.

I couldn't give a shit about hydrochloric acid right now. I lean haphazardly against the bench as Brady tips a few liquids into a beaker, one hundred percent sure he stopped following the instructions five minutes ago. The liquid's slowly turning a rather ominous colour, I look around the class finding that the other beakers are still clear.

"B... I really don't think you're doing it right..." Brady smirks securing his Perspex science goggles further up his nose, somehow he still makes a lab coat and horrible glasses look adorably attractive.

"I'm just doing it better, I'm like one hundred steps ahead of the instructions. I can bring the dinosaurs back with this shit baby." He bites on his lower lip and drags the pipet into the air. A giggle escapes my lips which makes him chuckle and before anyone can stop us we're laughing uncontrollably, others turning to glare at us.

"Grove." A rough voice cuts through our laughter and I straighten up, red stinging my cheeks. I think the teachers just telling me to shut up and work but when I see Coach Niler, the coach Blaze hates, leaning against the door frame my blush intensifies. Most of the girls in the lab swoon but I just want to roll my eyes. He leans his bicep on the door, whistle hanging from his neck- he literally loves himself so fricking much it's gross.

"Grove." He repeats again, " Coach Simpson wants you in his office." He looks behind me to Brady whose arms are around my shoulders and narrows his eyes at him, "Now." He spits waiting for me to grab my stuff. I throw the lab coat and goggles into Brady's arms and shoot him a questioning look. He shrugs wearily. I grab my bag and dart through the rows of students I know are gawking at me.

Why does this keep happening to me! I'm a good student I swear!

I follow Coach Niler down the hallway, why the frick does Coach Simpson want to talk to me?

The walk to the gym block is silent, Niler a few steps ahead of me but when I get to Coaches office he's flicked away by Simpsons hand. I stand in the doorway awkwardly watching Nilers form retreat down the hallway onto the field, arrogance trailing behind him.

"Atlas, come in." Simpson gestures to the couch in front of his desk. I tentatively sit on the red couch, knees wobbling. "Don't worry you're not in trouble." He doesn't smile often but when he does he looks like a grandfather who's got toffee stuck in his teeth, he never loses that striking stern look but he at least looks... kinder when he smiles.

"Oh okay..." I nod, not really sure what I should say to that...

"How is he?" Coach lets out a breath and leans forward on his knees, the sincere concern in his eyes removing the awkwardness from the room, his face relaxes and he actually looks tired and worried, "I know he's not shitting sick. The kid would turn up to practice with a broken arm."

"He's... he's working through some stuff." I know Blaze is close with Simpson but I don't think he'd be comfortable with me going into detail about it, Simpson's like a father to him and I know he wouldn't want to be seen in the state he's in at the moment.

Simpson lets out a more disappointed sigh and sits up slightly, "He's tough. He'll get through it. Even more so with you by him." I blush a deep red and a chuckle slips past Simpsons lips, "He'd follow you around like a lost puppy but you're what he needs. You're good for him Miss Grove. Look out for him."

I nod, slightly choked by his worry and care for Blaze.

"I so would have loved to give him this in person but I don't think I can wait anymore. I bloody well know he can't." I frown... wait for what? Coach wheels back around to his desk and rummages through the draws coming up with a large A4 sized manilla envelope. "You give him this." He hands the envelope to me and the first thing I see is the University of Alabama logo stamped in the top right corner. My hands freeze on the paper that now feels as heavy as gold. This...

"This is... this is... it." My eyes widen to saucers, Coach nods with a prideful smile.

"It's not the done deal but I think he's going to be happy." Coach winks, I can practically feel myself vibrating with excitement for him. This is what he's been worried about. I fricking knew it! I fricking knew he could get in.

I stand abruptly from the couch clutching the envelope tight in my shaky palms, I need to show Blaze, I need to show Blaze!

"Where are you going ?" Coach asks as I reach the door.

"Home!" I practically squeal.

"You've still got three periods left." Coaches smile hasn't disappeared and I can see the amusement in his eyes.

"Oh... screw it. He needs to see this. I need to fricking see this!" I chew on my bottom lip shouting over my shoulder as I dart into the hall. My veins are buzzing... I'm skipping class and Blaze has a letter from Alabama... oh god and I told coach-

I dart back to the door, Coach shaking his head with a smile, "Sorry for saying screw and... uh skipping..." He chuckles, something rare and rather rich.

"You're fine kid, now go! I'll put a note saying you got a migraine." I back out of the office and start jogging again.

"Thanks!" I shout reaching the door to the main school. My legs burn as I dash down the halls, shoes squeaking in the deserted corridors. I push all the way to the bus stop down the street and navigate my way home- realising I haven't actually had to walk or take the bus since I moved in with Blaze. I hold the letter the entire way, glaring at the people who nearly crumple it by stepping on my short ass on the bus ride. I lunge through the estate, ignoring the mad looks and neighbours who can't mind their own business until I reach the matt black mustang in the drive.

My heart pounds against my chest as I climb the steps, half from running the whole way home half because of the letter in my hands. I turn the handle with shaky hands welcoming the warmth from the house. Closing the door behind me I look over into the front room where Blaze is laid out on the couch, at least he's left his room. He's shirtless, a book opened on his chest and he's wearing those cute ass glasses. I swoon when he looks over the top of the hardback, closing it quickly he gets up from the couch. His grey sweatpants hang low on his hips and his abs almost make me drop to my knees- it should be illegal to look this good when you're being a moody ass.

"What are you doing back so early?" He grabs my shoulders and runs his eyes over me, checking for a physical injury I think. The concern is thick in his tone but he looks too fricking hot in his glasses with the black ink curling around his biceps. I just want to admire him for a moment more, my stomach tightens and tingles... christ Atlas keep your hormones in check, that's not why you skipped class. "How'd you even get home?" He snaps me out of my heated thoughts.

"I...I... ran and... took busses..." I pant... you'd think I'd have more stamina but apparently not.

"Why? What's wrong? Are you okay? Did something happen at school? You could have called, I would have picked you up-"

I hold up the brown envelope and his lips snap shut, eyes glaring at the red stamp in the corner.

Fuck.

The stamp is as clear as day and as red as my girls flushed cheeks.

When she walked through the door I thought something fucking horrific had happened, she would never skip class and at that moment I realised she didn't even call me to come to get her because I'd been such an ass this week.

This is worse than horrific though. This is catastrophic.

"Coach called me in, he wanted to give it to you himself but... well... he didn't want to wait for you to have it either." She breathes, still heaving from running the way home.

I've spent the whole week fretting over whatever the fuck is in this envelope. This piece of paper that could change everything, that will change everything. Everything I've worked for and everything... I have to lose.

"Blaze." I draw my eyes from the brown envelope up to Atlas, her soft tone and bright eyes swimming with concern. Her dainty ring clad fingers hold the manilla envelope closer to me.

"Fuck." I want to run out of the fucking door and get in my car, drive the fuck away. "Fuck."

Atlas places her hand on my arm, running her thumb across my inked skin, she looks positively buzzing, more reason not to let her down too.

"Blazey. It's okay." She whispers, I still haven't taken the envelope from her.

"No. I can't." I shake my head, pulling away from the stamped paper. If I don't open it I can just pretend, I can pretend I still don't know, that I still have a chance, that I'm not disappointing anyone.

"You can." I pace the kitchen, my hands tugging at the roots of my hair. My mind is falling from my brain right now.

"No, I fucking can't. Everything. Everything changes with that Atlas." I point at it like it's a poisonous disease waiting to destroy the earth.

"It's going to be a good thing." She leans on the counter as I pace behind it.

"Yeah, that's worrying too," I mumble.

"What do you mean? Talk to me." I come to a standstill in front of her, her brows pinched together, hands reaching out to take mine. She carefully pries my hands from my head and holds them on the island between her own.

"Atlas Alabama is miles away from New York. And before you say all that crap about not getting into Julliard, I know either way that when the time comes you'll be on a plane to New York. It's where you're supposed to be." I squeeze her hands gently. "And then If it's bad... I... well fuck... " I blow out a deep breath, my chest already tight. "I can't open it... i-"

The front door falls open again and mom walks in, bags full of groceries, "Hi honey-" She shuts the door stopping on her way to the kitchen, "Atlas? Why are you home so early, are you okay?"

Atlas picks up the letter and I can see my mom visibly gulp, she walks straight to the counter- groceries forgotten by the door. "Well?"

"He won't open it."

"I can't!" I repeat, agitated. My mom looks at Atlas, a look of understanding passes through their features before Atlas turns to me, taking my hands again.