"Tell me what happened," I'd demanded that night after watching Oliver held my breath as he shoved his face into his hands, sobbing for around five minutes after I'd shut the door in his face. I could sense the desolation as he carried his body down my steps and walked down the street, back to his home, tears being wiped from his face harshly by his bruised and bandaged hand. I'd had a headache from how much crying I'd done and my lips were chapped from the cold, hands shaking as I fought the urge to open the door and run after Oliver, begging him to talk to me.

"Emerson..." January had trailed off. He was in the middle of making the bed he was going to share with me that night since he hadn't talked to Jackson since he'd overheard our conversation. He'd frozen, body gone rigid and he'd allowed the sheet to slip out of his hands.

"Tell me, Jan." I'd gotten closer, turning him around by his wrist sharply, forgetting the problem he'd hand under his sleeve. January recoiled away from my touch, letting out a sharp hiss as his right hand came up to grip it, I could see the blood on his fingers when he pulled his hand away.

"I'm sorry," I'd said quickly, trying to get a look at it and being shoved away gently, "Jan-"

Cutting me off with a sharp tone, his voice was harsh, " It's fine. I just, I don't feel like talking."

"Do you not trust me?" was all I could come up with, my head spinning as I tried to recall when Jan became closer to Sidney than me and when he started leaving me out. I'd almost started to compare myself to Kat.

He was quick to stop me in my tracks, "Of course I trust you."

"Then why would you tell me? You told Sidney!" I fired back, not really understanding what exactly was happening. I was clouded with pent up emotions and all I could do was yell.

That seemed to be the same case for Jan, "Sidney was there, she saw it happen!"

"Saw what happen?"

He was silent, stopping in his tracks and debating what was going on before he grabbed my wrist and pulled me onto the bed with him. I obviously and without hesitation obliged, pushing my face into Jan's chest as we laid there, my hand entangled in his in the most meaningful yet meaningless way possible. And with a sigh, he began to tell me his story.

"You remember that project that I had last year in Mr. Sample's class? The one where I was partnered up with Oliver?"

I chuckled, recalling back to early may of that year, a few weeks after Jan had publically came out, "Yeah, you wouldn't quit talking about how hot he was and nearly fainted when he agreed to come over your house to work on it."

"Yeah," Jan blushed, the warmth spreading through his chest and I could feel his breath in my hair, "well, anyways, we started to hang out a bit and eventually we started talking outside of school. Everyone knew him, he was big in football that year, taking Phoenix's spot for a short period of time and you know that I had just come out of the closet."

"Wait..." it was sounding oddly like some godforsaken love-triangle and my eyes snapped open as quick as possible, "Do you- Do you like him, Jan?"

He was quick to deny, "No, God no! He's not even my type, you know I have a thing for guys with tans, he's way too fucking pale."

I laughed.

"I wouldn't even say we were friends. We didn't really meet up after the project was done but he seemed pretty cool," he pulled me tighter against his chest, "Well, you know Evan Morrison, right?"

I nodded, remembering how Jan had crushed on the guy for two straight years before he moved, always interested in what he was wearing and how good his butt looked in his track shorts. Jan was always a bit boy crazy.

"I had a crush on him forever," he'd admitted as if I hadn't already known.

"How can I forget?" a teasing smile spread across my face as I squeezed his hand in a loose grip, "You literally referred to him as 'hottie with a body',"

Jan pushed out an forced smile at that, cutting my laughter short and replacing it with confusion as I pulled away to look him in the eyes, "he was Phoenix's friend and around three months before I'd left, Evan asked me out. He said he'd liked me for a while-" Jan looked down when his words had been lost, voice thinning as he gasped for air, "we dated for a bit, in secret. Said he just wasn't ready to come out yet and I respected that."

"I was so fucking stupid," he shakily sighed as I squeezed his hand again for comfort this time, "I fell for him and I fell hard, he told me that he'd always be there for me and on our one month, he cornered me in the hallways with Phoenix and told me that I meant nothing to him..." I wanted to hug him, my heart breaking at the tears that rolled down his cheeks, "He said the guys had bet him to date the queer for a month and hadn't meant for it to go that far. I don't hate Evan, I wish I did but... I really don't."

"And that's okay," I assured, pulling him closer and rubbing his back gently as we laid there. All I could do was support him, regardless of anything, I had to be there for that.

"Phoenix harassed me about it, got mad at me for 'turning' Evan gay and wouldn't leave me alone. Drove me to the point where I was literally searching up how much Xanax I had to take in order to not wake up at all."

That was when I realized how long it took me to notice how sad he'd been, how he was fucking suicidal and I didn't know. "And then Oliver was with me and Sidney one day and he'd seen Phoenix shoving me into a locker. That was what the fought about, that was why he was sent to juvie."

"Is that why you left?"

Jan nodded and my world had stopped. I had a lot of questions, sure but Jan seemed tired and I didn't want top pry too much so holding him, I let him cry against my shoulder again, draining himself out until his breathing had leveled.

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

It was a Thursday when January first talked to a therapist.

That therapist just so happened to be my dad.

"Emerson?" I'd caught my best friend's gaze, biting my lip at the hope in his eyes. He'd wanted me to stay and I, quite frankly, wasn't sure I'd be able to without crying. Still, I sucked it up and say with him because January was important to me.

I loved him so much and even if that meant crying and pain and a stuffy nose, I'd be there.

My father sighed, giving January a genuine smile. I wanted to kick myself when I thought about how much easier it would be if Oliver was there, if he could help convince January that none of this was his fault.

"When did this all start?" He was talking about the self-loathing, I was sure. Jan's eyes shut abruptly and he ground out his answer through the silence.

And then he recalled the past year in front of me and my dad, blue eyes staring at his hands interlocked with mine. It was then that I knew we were going to get through it.

⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄⌃⌄

Through the couple days I'd been away from Oliver, I'd started to regret. Sure, I'd had a lot on my mind and I didn't regret having him leave at the time but I was regretting ignoring his calls and ignoring him altogether.

Maybe I was being selfish but I really wanted to talk to him.

I'd been dodging Oliver's calls, my heart too heavy at the thought but when January had found out about the whole situation, he'd forced a smile and demanded that I talked to the, and I quote, boy of my dreams.

Maybe that's how I found myself on my bed with my phone held in front of me as I played the three voicemails left on my phone. Jan was trying to patch things up with my brother and Sidney was home so for the first time that week, I was left alone to dwell in my own thoughts. I couldn't distract myself from missing him.

Coincidentally, they were from Oliver. I couldn't stop the small smile that spread across my face when I read his contact name, 'Princess Oli.'

I timidly checked them all, heart pounding, "Emerson, I need you. Fuck, I need you and I'm so sorry about everything... I-I'm trying to get better," And I listened to the first message, needing to hear his voice as if he were oxygen and I was dying, "I know that sounds stupid but I haven't had a cigarette in a week and I-I-I haven't fought since Ceaser and I just- I need you here; I- I need you to tell me that I'm not a fucking screw up and I need to hold you."

I listened to the second one, which was just silence for the first few seconds making me wonder if he'd just forgotten to hang up, that was until his voice sounded, breathy and pained, "Please stop ignoring me. I'm a fucking idiot and I'm sorry. You mean everything to me and... can you please just call me back?"

"I'm sorry." said the last one and that was enough to break my will, my mouth dry as I hadn't had any more tears left. All I could think back to was the last time I'd seen him, eyes red from exhaustion and voice strangled.

With shaking hands, I pressed my fingers to my screen, clicking on Oliver's number and smiling t his contact picture only to chicken out and press end as soon as it'd started ringing.

My pulse had quickened, my lips were bitten raw and my head was spinning with possibilities. What if he'd gone back to Jacie or gotten himself arrested or did something to get himself arrested, for real this time. Sent to big boy jail as my dad had called it when he'd caught Jackson smoking pot for the first time.

Maybe Oliver had taken my advice and gotten some help, realizing he didn't need me anymore. There were endless things that could have developed from this time away and I refused to think of the worst: that Oliver's sadness had turned into hatred and everything we'd worked so hard to conceive would've been destroyed.

That was by far the scariest.

I was trying to convince myself to call him back, my thumb hovering over the call button but never quite pressing it. I'd had butterflies in my stomach- a thought that grossed me out- and I'd been sweating at the memory of his voice, pained and distraught. Maybe I didn't deserve a second chance; maybe I'd pushed him too far this time and there was no coming back.

My phone rang in my hand, the sound rigging me out of my thoughts and I'd seen that picture I'd put as his contact icon, my throat closing up. I felt an unfamiliar feeling coursing through my body, a feeling I'd first felt a few days prior. I was terrified.

The only thing that could partially calm me down was his contact name 'Princess Oli', I'd thought about the day I'd saved it as that, the day he'd almost pounded Phoenix's face in for the second time.

The day we were laying underneath the horrible excuse for a tree and Oliver's face had looked so chiseled, perfect cheekbones and defined jaw on display. He'd accused me of staring too much and compared himself to a prince in which I responded with "More like Princess," I think that was another trait I liked about Oliver.

He was goofy underneath all that hard exterior and I could see many sides of him, he wasn't just a blank slate but he was deep and captivating. Maybe I was scared because I liked him so much, maybe that was what terrified me. I didn't know him enough to be this infatuated.

Before I could over think again, I'd answered his call, his voice coming out in a shallow breath almost instantly, "Em..."

I could barely hear him over the noise in the background but I could tell that he was in a crowded room and there was music playing loud enough for him and those around him to go deaf,"Oliver?"

"Emerson, I miss you so much, so so much," he was dragging out his words, a lisp at the end of his speech and I could tell he'd had a few, "I messed up... I've lost my fucking mind without you here," I could hear things being knocked over as his words had started to slur together and in a second, I could hear the sound getting further and further away, "woah," he'd barked out a loud laugh ending it with a wheeze-like cough, "I've lost my fucking mind, it happens all the time," His voice sounded off as did the little giggle-like sounds escaping him.

He chuckled and then he changed songs, attempting to sing which on a normal would be a nice sound but with him being so obviously intoxicated and the fact that he was being so loud, I'd cringed, "I'm flesh and bone; I'm a rolling stone. Soooomethig, something, give me therapy, I'm a walking travesty but I'm smiling at everything." I'd recognized the lyrics, him mumbling it frequently sometimes while I'd patched him up from fights. I'd known that it was the same song that his tattoo on his forearm was quoting and I'd also known that this was the same band that was printed on one of his shirts that just so happened to be in my closet.

That song started playing in my head as I thought over the lyrics and I could hear his mumbling before it stopped all of a sudden; all I could hear were shallow and harsh breaths.

"Oliver?" I'd called after he hadn't said anything for a while only to be interrupted with quiet and strangled sobs.

My heart clenched.

"Oliver, are you crying?"

He didn't respond for a bit, proving my assumptions right and when he spoke, I could hear the sadness in his voice, "Do you know how much I love you?" He'd hiccuped and my world had stopped. I was forcing myself to believe that he hadn't meant it, it was only the alcohol talking and he clearly didn't love me. We weren't even dating.

He must've took my silence as an answer,"No wait, you don't, right? Well,I love you, I love you more than I've loved anyone and you don't love me back because I'm crazy." I wasn't really sure if he were laughing or crying, maybe it was a mixture of both but it made my heart ache and my head throb, "No one loves me; no one loves the psychopath. God, even Elliot hates me."

Arrogant boy, love yourself so no one has to.

"Oliver, where are you?" I'd asked suddenly becoming worried about his safety. Oliver was unstable enough as it was and with alcohol and/or drugs added to the mix, it couldn't possibly get better. There was only down to go with him in that state of mind.

"Why do you care?" he fired back and I could hear utter confusion in his voice as I'd heard another muffled voice, "Leave me the fuck alone, Logan."

I tried to ignore the anger in his statement towards Logan, answering his question, "Because I care about you."

"You're lying," he chuckled before singing to me. It was as if he'd forgotten how sad he'd been, his emotions moving too fast for me to keep up, "Why the fuck you lying? Stop fucking lying."

He'd went on mumbling about something incoherent and in that time, Logan had seemingly gotten closer because I could hear a gruff and more mature voice on the other side of the phone, asking Oliver to give him the phone. I could hear struggling and then, "Why do you hate me?"

I was shocked although I probably hadn't had a right to be, "I don't hate you-"

I could hear struggling and the sound getting louder but not quite reaching the level it was before as he was most likely moving towards the source but never entering, "It's fine that you hate me, I hate me too."

But I could never hate him, not matter how much I'd tried,"Oliver-"

I was cut of by a shatter and then Oliver cursing quietly. He must've knocked over something in his drunken haze, "Poor plant, Jesus Christ," he'd cried out and I could hear the sniffle in his voice, "I'm such a fucking screw up. Maybe that's why Elliot hates me. I mean, I make bad decisions but I don't mean to. I never mean to hurt anybody; I didn't even mean to hurt this fucking plant."

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or coo but I knew neither were appropriate for the situation so instead I called for him, "Oliver..."

"I love you, can you please love me back?" were the first words he'd said, a resounding 'God, you're drunk' coming out muffled and describing everything I'd felt in three words. Oliver clearly couldn't handle being this wasted. I could briefly hear Logan excusing himself and telling the drunken boy to stay where he was before it was just me and Oliver conversing. Maybe that wasn't the best idea.

"I don't know you enough. I've got a lot of questions about you and I'd ask them now but you're drunk and..." And I don't want to make you tell me anything you don't want to.

"My dad's in jail."

My breath hitched and it fell silent, Oliver struggling to keep his voice strong as he stuttered through his explanations.

"My mom raised me and Elliot up until I was first arrested. I always had problems, I knew that but I-I didn't know that I could almost kill someone. And-And then when I was in juvie, my mom got a boyfriend-" he stopped himself, voice shaky.

"Oliver, stop." I didn't know what else to say but I knew I had to stop him, someone had to stop him. The need to know what he was saying was clawing at me but overpowered by the fact that I couldn't just pull this out of him when he wasn't sober, "You don't know what you're saying right now and you're gonna regret this in the morning."

"I need to you love me a-and if telling you all this stuff is going to make that happen, then so be it."

And I fell silent, not knowing how to respond to that but my heart was pounding and I could hear it and I didn't want this boy gone from my life no matter how much I pushed him away. So I listened to him.

He took a deep breath, "Seth wasn't that bad but when he drank a lot, he got violent." his voice was getting more jagged, the words tumbling out as if he had not control, "he hit my brother, Emerson and I wasn't there to stop it. I was in jail because I'm crazy and I don't know when to stop. I don't know how to stop."

He was sniffling again, whether it be from the cold or his emotions, I hadn't known, "I didn't know any of this until I came back. I didn't hate Seth at first, actually I liked him until we all first had dinner together. That was when I saw something off, the way Elliot had flinched every single time Seth reached for his drink. Everything was fine until one drink turned into three. He started getting mad about something, I think it was about the dishes, I don't know but then he started yelling..." Oliver sucked in a breath, "My mom was confused and- and then everything's a blur. The next day, he came through the door in the same clothes he'd worn at dinner, there was blood under my nails and- and he was gone in an hour."

"I think I hurt him, Em," I couldn't breathe, "Please say something."

I couldn't form anything to say, I was in shock. I had so many questions and no answers but I must've took too long because I heard Oliver letting out a strangled cry as he begged me to say something when nothing would come out.

Eventually though, he stopped trying, "I mess everything up... I'm sorry."

And with that, the line went dead.