"Hey, man," said Knight.

"You're such a dick," supplied Austin cheerfully.

"I've had an emotionally traumatic day, no need to pile on," Knight complained, but he couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face.

It was as if, the moment he'd walked across the threshold, a weight had tumbled down his shoulders, and he was no longer forced to bear the weight of the world. His smile was brighter, his shoulders lighter, and his eyes no longer held the haunted quality of one battling their inner demons.

"Well, there was no need for you to be a bitch and go have a sob story in a tree," said Austin, in a display that was rather insensitive, if you asked me. He'd clearly spent too much time with me.

Knight shrugged. "It was just a cry for attention," he said, in an epic understatement that made me roll my eyes. "Lena says I'm an attention whore."

I crossed my arms. "You are an attention whore."

"Pile on, pile on!" Knight called, pointing at me accusatorily. I hit him in the arm playfully.

From behind him, I could see Liv racing down the stairs, relief easing the worried lines in her forehead as she noted Cole standing in the entryway. Liv's hair was windswept and wild and she had dark circles under her eyes—evidence of the previous night, as I'd wept and she'd searched—but it was all masked by the light in her eyes and she saw me standing next to me best friend.

Knight turned to her with sheepish grin, as if to apologise for the last day, and to thank her for all the days that were to follow. But, in true Montez fashion, he was hardly going to say that. He batted his eyes at my sister. "Liv, she's being mean to me."

"You're such a snitch, oh my god."

"Are you trying to get him to leave again?" Liv asked me, laughing.

"Give it another few hours, and I'll probably say yes."

Liv rolled her eyes.

Mum and Dad stepped out of the kitchen and into the entryway with matched expressions of awkwardness and gratitude. They didn't know Knight, not really, but they'd seen the desperation on my face and heard the pain in my voice when he had vanished. I watched as they clocked the smile on my face, and shared a look of thankfulness.

Even if Jace was killing me, Knight was back. He was home. And that was all that mattered.

If I kept telling myself that, I might believe it eventually.

"Hello, Eliza and David," said Cole, almost bashful. "Thank you for, uh, having me. And looking for me. I really appreciate it and I'm very grateful."

Mum smiled kindly at him. "No worries."

"That's okay, mate," said Dad gruffly. "I guarantee you're an upgrade on my own children. Maybe you can teach them a thing or two."

"I don't know about that. Your children are pretty special," Knight said, and when he looked over at me and smiled, my chest felt warm and whole. "By special, I mean that Liv and Austin are great, but Lena is more the whacked on the head as a child, overly-stubborn kind of special. Did you have really narrow walls when she was a kid?"

Never mind. He sucked.

Mum and Dad laughed, in a traitorous display of betrayal. My whole family, it seemed, had caught Knight's suckage. It was contagious.

I couldn't exactly stay mad at Knight for long, because when their laughter died down, he looked back at my parents with a small frown. I could tell he was fighting to keep his voice steady. "Did you, um. Did you speak to my mum?"

Dad sighed, and in the reproachful set of his jaw, I could see the answer to Knight's question. My parents had spoken to Carl and Daniella, and the verdict was that they were officially the worst. I watched as Knight's resolve turn to steel, even as he loosened his shoulders in a display of complete nonchalance. Pride; the fatal flaw we both shared. But he cared. I knew he cared.

"I'm sorry," Dad said. "They didn't admit to the marriage thing, but they—"

"They suck," Mum interrupted, glaring at the corner of the room as if the Knight's were standing there, being their usual pretentious dickface selves.

"You are very much like your daughter," said Knight with a tentative smile.

Mum placed a hand on her chest. "Oh, god. I have to immediately change everything about myself."

Well. That was rude.

I turned to Knight. "Are you sure this is the family you want to join? We could find a new one?"

Knight slung his arm around my shoulders and I bumped my hip into his. Then, Knight turned to my mother and said, "No offence meant to you, Eliza. I'm sure you have many fine attributes and don't share all that many with your daughter."

Well. It seemed I was in the market for a new best friend.

But Knight was hiding his pain behind his jokes, and that charming grin. "So, what did they have to say?" Knight asked, in a pitiful display of nonchalance."

Mum glanced at Dad, who gave her a look in return that said, well, I don't know how to soften this blow. Mum had been right; the Knights sucked. My Knight excluded, of course.

Mum sighed. "They said you left of your volition," she said, looking Knight in the eyes with sympathy and determination. She knew her words would hurt—hurt perhaps more than if she had struck him—but there was no hiding from the truth. "They said you chose not to be a part of the family anymore, and they wouldn't stand in the way of your decision. But they also said they couldn't support a child who didn't believe in their family values, and who had chosen to leave their lives."

"Did you tell them to stick it up their asses?" I burst out, fury turning my words into violent, harsh sounds. "That we knew Knight, and he did no such fucking thing?"

Dad didn't criticise my language. He opened his mouth to respond, but Knight cut in, a weary, world-heavy set to his shoulders. "But I did."

I whirled on him, and I knew my eyes were blazing with unchecked rage. "What do you mean?"

Knight shrugged hopelessly. "They did give me a choice, and I chose to leave." A wry smile lifted the corner of his lips. "And I didn't exactly support their family values. I removed the stick lodged up my asshole."

I considered this for a moment. He wasn't wrong, not exactly. What the Knights had said was true, to a point, but framed their son's actions as traitorous, rebellious, insolent. It was an explanation that lacked all of the nuance; the psychotic arranged marriage, their callous ultimatum. The untouched stack of books; the one that said they hadn't even entered their son's room since he left, hadn't even cared that much.

I hope Knight left a shit tonne of food in there, I thought savagely. Then the Knights can decide what's worse; mould, ants or rats.

Being ostracised and thrown from your childhood home by your parents was probably still worse though. The rats were a close second.

"They still suck," I grumbled. "But also, there is definitely still a stick up your ass. You're extremely pretentious."

Knight muttered his protests, as I kicked out at his legs. My parents shared a glance, as if to say, great, more bickering children.

"So, Cole," my mother said at last. "Are you going to be okay?"

There was silence for a moment, the five of us looking at Knight expectantly for his answer. Okay; how could anyone ever be okay after something like this?

But Knight just walked over to the kitchen island and sat down on one of the stools, spinning around experimentally to face us. He was smiling. "More than okay. You guys have better food anyway."

And I knew then that we were good. Because just like that, he wasn't Cole Knight anymore, not really. He was Cole Montez; honorary member of the family.

I was still going to call him Knight though.

About half an hour passed before exhaustion claimed Knight. As it turned out, a tree did not lend itself to the highest quality of sleep. It was not a location I planned on trying out, personally.

I sent out a series of texts to all of my friends and family who'd helped me search for him, letting them know that he'd been found. McKenna, Daria, Kaelin, Jonah, Callie, Alex. Everyone who's sacrificed their time for him. Knight would have been equal parts annoyed and flattered by the search, I knew. I hate that I ruined their night, but I love that they allowed their night to be ruined for moi. He was totally pretentious.

But I called Jace instead. For some reason, I thought he deserved more than a group message and a few paltry words. Maybe it was because he'd been the one to really help me find Knight. Maybe it was because I wanted to feel worse. Maybe I figured it would be easier to get over him if I had to talk to him, and was reminded of every reason I'd ever thought of to hate him.

His voice on the other end of the line sounded different, I thought. It wasn't; it was the same as it had always been. But it was different to me. It was a sound that cleaved my chest in two.

"Lena, hey," Jace said. His voice was soft, gentle, kind. I could almost imagine in that moment that we could someday be something more than this. But that day was long gone, and belonged to a different girl. And so, my chest tightened. "We haven't found him, and I had to stop home for a little bit, but—"

"It's okay, Jace," I said. The sound of his name was still foreign to me. He would always be Hartley to me—the boy who challenged me and fought with me and laughed at me—but sometimes, when he searched for my friends and smiled at me and when he kissed me, it was all Jace. "I found him. I'm sorry for not letting you know straight away, it was just... hectic."

"Oh. Well, that's good," he said. "Is he okay?"

I looked over at Knight, who had fallen asleep on the couch in the corner of my room. The sound of my voice had woken him up—which made me feel a little bad, until he gave me an effusive thumbs up, grinning like an idiot. He was also doing some sort of weird Irish jig while lying down, as if he could cheer me up by being as much of an idiot as possible. It worked, a little bit. I rolled my eyes. "If you count Knight's normal as someone being okay. I think he needs to get his head checked."

Jace laughed. "You two could do a group session."

I gasped down the line. I could do this; I could snipe and tease and laugh with him. Because, despite everything, we were friends now. "Why, Hartley, that was uncalled for. What happened to us being friends?"

Knight frowned and pointed at himself, mouthing, but I'm your favourite friend, right? He loved to ruin the moment.

"I can't just be nice to you all the time," said Jace. "You'd lose interest."

It wasn't true, but I couldn't tell him that. Instead, I forced myself to say, "You're right. Being mean to me is half of your personality, and the only interesting part."

"Well, being meant to me is all of your personality, and it's still not all that interesting."

I laughed. And that warmed my heart, just a little bit. This other girl could be pretty and wonderful and kind and generous. There's no other girl in the world like you. But she would never be able to match Hartley like this, step for step, quip for quip. We were equals in that, at least, and no one else would ever be able to keep up.

Although, I thought moodily. That probably wasn't true. I wasn't special, or one of a kind. There were lots of girls who were pretty and smart and clever and stubborn. And probably not even half as much of an asshole, I could imagine Knight saying, if he could read my thoughts.

Fortunately, he couldn't, because I could imagine plenty of choice commentary that I didn't particularly want to hear.

"Hey, Jace?" I said.

"Yeah?"

Why do you have to love another girl? Why do you have to be the only one who can match me? Why do you have to call me Elle and steal my heart? And why do you have to break what you, ever so unwittingly, stole? The cold, hard glass of the phone dug into my sleeve and pressed into the flesh of my wrist as I gripped it tightly. "Thank you. For helping me find Knight."

For his part, Knight was mocking a fake gag, as if to say, ew, Lena, don't use me as some weird cover for your flirting. But I wasn't; I had no need to flirt with Jace Hartley.

"Anytime, Elle."

I hung up the phone a tucked in it my back pocket for safekeeping, along with my heart. It wasn't safe to leave what could so easily be broken pinned to your sleeve.