The trial was fast approaching, in just one week I was going to be on the stand testifying against Adam. My therapy sessions with Dr. Meyer were going well, I think over the last couple of weeks I caught her completely up to speed on my life. We didn't do too much dissecting of my life and my trauma yet, but Dr. Meyer said that would come in the following weeks. She told me to keep snapping a rubber band against my wrist if I wanted to cut, that was supposed to be the last resort though. I was supposed to try journaling, going for a walk, or calling a friend first.

I relapsed exactly one week before the trial. That Wednesday night I couldn't sleep. All of the pressure was hitting me. I kept replaying my meeting with our lawyer in my mind over and over again. The last week I had been meeting with her to practice for the trial, get my statement together, practice answering questions from the defense, make sure I could hold it together up there. I couldn't get through one session without cracking.

"Now, Mr. Daniels, how long have you known the defendant?" Katrina, our lawyer, asked pretending to be Adam's lawyer.

"S-Since I was born." I responded.

"And what was your relationship with him like when you were little?"

"I-It was good."

"You two were close?"

"Yes..." A weight grew on my chest, restricting my breathing.

"Would you say that he was kind to you, loving, almost a father figure?"

"Y-yes," I stuttered.

"Yet you're accusing my client of viciously raping you from the time you were ten years old? A man who was like a father to you?" The weight on my chest increased, and I thought my heart might beat out of my chest.

"I," I gasped, "I can't do this!" Katrina sighed and pulled up a chair to sit next to me, but not too close. She realized after our first meeting that she couldn't come near me.

"Grayson, you have to be able to answer these questions. I guarantee you his lawyer is going to ask questions just like this, if not worse."

"Are you s-sure there's no way to g-get me out of testifying?"

"You are the only victim, honey. We looked, we talked to other families who knew him, no one else came forward with anything."

"S-So I'm the only one t-testifying against him?"

"No, of course not, Trent is also testifying." My head shot up to look at Katrina, my brows furrowed. "He didn't tell you?"

"No," I whispered, looking down at my hands in my lap. Why wouldn't he tell me that he was testifying?

"Well, I'm sure he just didn't want you to worry about it," she said nervously. I nodded. I was getting real sick of people not wanting to worry me.

"Are you ready to go again?" She asked, standing up.

"I think I'm done for today." I was still on the verge of hyperventilating and I did not think I would be able to answer any more questions.

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow though," Katrina said as she packed up her case materials and left my house. That night I laid in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Why wouldn't Trent talk to me about the trial? How was I going to handle the trial? I was so overwhelmed by everything. I had exhausted every coping technique Dr. Meyer had taught me.

Helplessness completely washed over me that night. I sunk into a dark pit of despair that I couldn't see a way out of. I was completely blinded by the darkness, stumbling around looking for a way out that just wasn't there. In my helplessness all I could think about was how I had been victimized, how I would have to face Adam in a week, recount what happened to me to a room full of people. I was desperate to make the feelings go away, to get some fucking sleep, so I relapsed for the first time, and hopefully only time. It helped, but then I felt overwhelming guilt for what I had done, and I still couldn't get any sleep that night.

"You look like shit," Trent commented as I approached his truck the next morning.

"I feel like shit," I muttered, climbing into the passenger seat as Trent held the door open for me.

"What happened?" He asked as he got back into the driver's seat.

"I-I relapsed," I stuttered quietly, eyes glued to my hands in my lap.

"Gray," Trent started.

"I'm r-really s-sorry," I choked out, trying to hold in sobs. "I just f-felt so d-depressed and I was thinking about the t-trial and how you didn't t-tell me you were testifying and,"

"Grayson, slow down, it's okay. Wait, how did you find out I was testifying?"

"Katrina," I cried.

"Look, I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to worry about it, that probably wasn't the best thing to do, but you had so much going on and you had your own testimony to worry about. I can handle this, it'll be fine."

"P-please don't keep things from me. I want to know, whether or not I can handle it I w-want to know."

"Okay, I'm sorry," Trent said, taking my hand in his as he drove away from my house. "I'm not mad at you for relapsing, by the way. I assumed it would happen, not because I don't have faith in you. Relapse is just inevitable. The important thing is that you get back up and try again."

"I promise I'll try."

"That's all I ask. I'm really proud of you Grayson," he said as he squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Why? I fucked up."

"Yeah, but you were honest about it. You honestly made it longer than I would have," he said, guilt on his face.

"Trent, d-did you do something?" I asked. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, pretending he was just scratching an itch and not wiping tears.

"I'm really sorry," he muttered.

"Wh-What happened?"

"I was hanging out with Sean the other day, and I um, I did coke with him. Not a lot. But I just needed an escape."

"If you needed an e-escape you could have talked to m-me." I spat.

"I didn't want to worry you."

"Everyone needs to stop fucking saying that!" I shouted, surprising Trent. "I'm never going to get better if everyone keeps sheltering me."

"You're right, I'm sorry. I just don't usually do feelings, especially not the fucked-up kind, I just do drugs about it." I sighed as I realized my hypocrisy. I was getting angry at Trent for using, but I cut for the same reasons.

"I th-think we both need to figure out how to d-do feelings."

"I think you're right, and we have to learn to trust each other too." Trent had parked in the school parking lot and we were just sitting in the truck looking at each other.

"S-So how do we do that?"

"I think I need to take a lesson from your book and get some therapy, deal with all my shit. I don't know if my dad will let that happen, but I'll try."

"What about Mrs. Sislian?"

"The school counselor? I guess I could try talking to her."

"Thank you," I said with a big grin on my face.

"What?"

"It just means a lot to me that you're going to do this. I really appreciate it."

"Of course, Gray. I still haven't really figured out what these feelings are, but I know that I really like you, more than I've ever liked anyone. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep you, and to be the man you deserve."

It was in that moment where I felt it, felt that I loved, or could love, Trent. I was so overwhelmed with emotion, admiration, attraction. I felt safe and protected sitting in his truck. It was just me and him, in this moment it felt like we were the center of the universe, no one else existed. I was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him, to feel his lips on mine and express my feelings for him in the best way movies and tv had taught me how. So I got up and leaned across the cab, Trent's brows furrowing in confusion as I inched closer until our faces were just centimeters apart. I took a deep breath and gently kissed my lips to his. I felt a jolt of electricity through my whole body, and I pressed my body closer to his. Trent's hand instinctively went to the back of my head, deepening the kiss. My breath caught in my throat but I ignored it, not wanting to lose the feeling of Trent's full, soft lips caressing mine. My hand found its way to cup his cheek, and my thumb gently stroked his cheekbone as we continued kissing, just innocently, holding each other close our lips moving as one.

A knock on the window caused me to jump, bumping my head on the roof of the truck. I cursed under my breath as I separated from Trent, looking behind me panicked for the source of the knock. It was just Brayden, with a devious grin on his face. He would definitely be giving Trent shit for the rest of his life for this. I breathed a sigh of relief that it was only Brayden and not Kyle or some faculty member. Trent just grumbled, upset that our make out session got cut short. We hopped out of the truck and Trent made his way over to me, kissing my head and locking our hands together.

"Sorry, didn't know I would be interrupting anything," Brayden laughed with a wink.

"Y-you weren't, we w-weren't!" I stuttered; eyes wide as I realized what Brayden was implying.

"Relax, relax, I was only joking," Brayden said softly.

"What was so important that you had to knock on the window?" Trent asked, a razor-sharp edge in his voice.

"Nothing, I just wanted to be a dick," he laughed as Trent shoved him playfully.

"I really hate you sometimes dude," Trent sighed.

"Not as much as I hate myself," he retorted.

"Big mood," I said quietly under my breath, causing both Trent and Brayden to laugh out of surprise.