NOTE: Need a little romance in your life this weekend? Tune into kaelking12's performance to get your daily dose of the feels ;).

https://youtu.be/40qfFOIOOX0

CHAPTER 33

Lacey

Elias hasn't been at school all week.

I've been trying not to notice.

Forcing myself to believe that I can go back to who I was before he made me feel a little more alive and a little less lonely.

But that's the thing about loneliness, eventually it sinks into your skin. You learn how to deal.

How to tolerate it.

How to get to that point where you almost forget that it's there.

But absence refuses to go unnoticed.

And Elias's is impossible to ignore. His name's been on the lips of every single person at Mission Bay to the point where even the teachers have gotten involved.

On Monday, everything at school shifted. Principal McGill called all of our teachers into his office for a mandatory meeting before the first bell. The always punctual Mr. Kissinger showed up ten minutes late for class and skipped over Elias's name on the roster like the class wouldn't notice.

We did.

I spent the rest of science class that morning staring at Elias's empty seat trying to come up with reasons for why he wasn't in it.

I'd barely gotten halfway through imagining which one of the girls on the cheerleading team had managed to snag his attention when the school secretary, Mrs. Halbert, walked in and shattered my theories to pieces.

She called Mr. Kissinger out of the classroom only for him to come back a few minutes later, pale and uncharacteristically quiet. He gathered Elias's things from his desk and handed them to Mrs. Halbert, and then brought class to a swift end without mentioning what had happened.

That was the beginning of the rumors.

By the time morning break ended, clusters of hushed conversations spread like wildfire from the freshman class all the way up to the seniors. Gossip leaked out of our little science room, into the hallway, and has been poisoning the entire school ever since.

Four days later, I still can't stand the whispers. The way people have taken their reckless assumptions about the King brothers' absence and turned them into ammunition.

"I heard their parents are splitting up."

"Their dad moved out."

"The cops showed up at their house."

Stories about Elias's family have been bouncing back and forth in under-the-desk texts all morning, and class hasn't even started yet. Whatever nonsense is made up in this room will blossom into full blown gossip outside in the hallway—but I'm refusing to add to the noise.

I remember the sound of it too well. My life at Cardinal looked a lot like Elias's at one point. But instead of my classmates spreading lies about my family around school, they actually managed to dig up the truth.

And if there's one thing worse than an ugly rumor making its way around campus, it's the uglier reality cementing itself into the walls where no one will let you forget it.

"Morning, spacey-Lacey!"

I glance up from the aimless spirals I've been drawing down the margins of my notebook and find Lucas hovering over me. His sun-kissed forearms are braced on either side of my desk preventing me from looking anywhere else but up at him. Lucas is without a doubt as close to textbook perfect as a person can get.

He's got a future politician's smile—the kind that's trustworthy enough to win you over without having to say a word. His slightly lopsided dimples soften the intensity that burns in his eyes whenever he catches your gaze. He's barely said two words to me, and I'm already staring—but not for the reasons most girls in our class would.

I'm studying him the way I study books. Searching for the truth behind why someone as dazzling as him would waste so much of his time, attention, and late night texts on someone like me.

"Hey, Lucas. Sorry I didn't get back to you last night. I kinda passed out after softball practice. Conditioning's a lot harder than I thought," I say, and most of it's true.

I did eventually fall asleep after I got home, but not before spending most of the night contemplating whether or not I should text Elias. Of all the messages that have been going around about him at school, I wonder if anyone's actually taken the time to see if he's okay. 

I should. I want to. I've wanted to say something to him since last Friday. But I haven't. 

Every time I open my inbox to write to him, my fingers freeze. I don't know what I'm more scared of at this point—not getting an answer at all or actually hearing what he might say.

I've been stuck trying to figure out the awkwardly silent space between me and Elias. But, recently, Lucas has started to fill in the gaps. Every night he texts me until I fall asleep mid-conversation or use homework as an excuse to sign off. I have learned very quickly that Lucas Harris is the type who always checks in. Always. Ten o'clock rolls around, and he's scarily punctual and overwhelmingly talkative. Meanwhile, I'm so bad at keeping up with his texts I look borderline anti-social.

It's not that I'm not into talking to people because—I am. But Lucas is Lucas. Our class unanimously voted him into his position as president. He's clearly amazing at what he does. And, everyone loves him.

At the end of the day, he's used to getting attention. The confidence in the way he carries on a conversation is a testament to that. So, when he casually texted me barely an hour after he met up with us at the nursing home, I was surprised and confused. I expected him to maybe ask about our science homework or check in to see when the next volunteering event was—but instead he asked me about—me.

Since then, Lucas has sent a million charming questions over the course of a string of texts that I wished were coming from someone else.

But I don't let that truth swim up to the surface. Instead, I push down the memory of the boy who excited and mystified me in the space of a single afternoon, and pretend that the butterflies left flitting around my stomach are meant for Lucas.

He leans a couple inches closer to me, runs a hand through his loose Afro curls, and follows the gesture with another killer smile.

"It's all good. I like a girl who keeps herself busy. Speaking of that, what are you up to after school today?"

And this is the one question I've been able to avoid over text—until now. I take my eyes off Lucas and grab my planner like I'll find a non-existent scheduling conflict somewhere in the pages.

"Actually, I'm—"

"She's running an errand for me—if she agrees of course. Ms. Sanders, I'd like you to come see me after class. I have a favor with your name written on it. Sorry, Mr. Harris, you'll have to take a rain check on your date."

Mr. Kissinger appears behind Lucas and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder before winking at me. My whole face flushes, but I try my hardest not to come off as flustered as I feel.

"It's not a date or anything, Mr. K. We were just going to meet up to work on our—"

"Actually, I was hoping it would be, but I can wait. Slow and steady wins the race, right?"

Lucas flashes another heart-stopping smile in my direction, and my stomach flips and tumbles like it's auditioning for the US gymnastics team. This is why Lucas probably gets everything he wants. The only mystery about him is, what or who he's after.

In the short amount of time I've been here, I've overheard the girls in our class gossiping about how him and Vera Kim, our stunningly gorgeous and incredibly capable class Vice President, should date. 

For some odd reason, Lucas hasn't asked her out yet despite everyone urging them to couple up since the start of the year. From what I've seen of Vera in the one class we have together, I can safely say that she'll most likely head the United Nations one day. Maybe after Lucas makes his way into the White House after college, they can get married and have little powerhouse babies.

The two of them are untouchables. Period. And, as the saying goes, like is supposed to date like, and I am nothing like Lucas.

Or Vera. Or any of their star-studded friends.

He's surrounded by people who he's known all year, and up until a week ago, he didn't know me.

He still doesn't know me.

And part of me thinks he never will.

Mr. Kissinger slaps Lucas on the back and shoots him a look that dads do when their sons are getting ahead of themselves.

"I was kidding, you two. But if I were you, Mr. Harris, I'd take a number. You're not the first person to realize what a smart, capable lab partner you've got there."

Lucas laughs to himself, and it's cocky enough to set off more than a few alarm bells, but maybe I'm reading into things.

"You're definitely not wrong about that. But noticing is one thing. I'm the type to act—"

His deep set eyes flit over to mine. There's a new kind of spark in them, one that makes me silently uncomfortable, the longer he holds my gaze.

"—especially if I like what I see."

Mr. Kissinger aggressively clears his throat and puts a very necessary end to Lucas's one-sided staring contest.

"Well, let's keep our personal likings to ourselves until class lets out, okay? And Lacey, don't forget to stop by my desk before you leave. It's important."

"Will do, Mr. K!"

He throws the two of us a salute and then walks over to his desk to bring up the PowerPoint for today's lesson. I very intentionally make a point to stare at the projection screen just behind Lucas like class is starting even though it's not. He cuts off my line of sight with his broad shoulders for the second time today.

"So, after you check in with Mr. K after school, would you wanna grab dinner or something? My older sister's working part time at this great burger place downtown. She can drive us later and maybe score us a free meal before we drop you home. You're okay with eating meat, right?"

"Lucas, listen, dinner sounds really nice and everything, but you were kidding about the whole dating thing, right? I mean I'm fine with a study date if we're just going to study, but I can't really, date-date anyone right now. Sorry, I—"

"It's cool, Lacey. Like I said, I have no problem waiting on a good thing."

"Lucas—"

"Psyche! I'm just messing with you. Let's get to work, study buddy."

The sound of the 8:30 bell derails the conversation and sends Lucas confidently strutting toward the stool next to mine. He sits down and the loud screech of the metal legs across the linoleum pulls me out of the moment.

I slip back into a memory that feels close enough to touch. I'm sitting in this same chair, but Elias is in Lucas's place. I remember how he quietly introduced himself while trying to hide the sticky juice stains on his t-shirt. How he stumbled over every word because he wasn't confident.

Because he wasn't perfect.

He was unsure.

Awkward.

Earnest.

Real.

Which is everything I look for in a person.

And everything Lucas isn't.

###

I spend the rest of science class thinking about the imperfect boy in my memory instead of paying attention to the perfect one next to me. Mr. K is quick to scold me for this the second I approach his desk after class lets out.

"Quite the daydreamer today, Ms. Sanders. You've been a little misty-eyed all week, but this morning definitely takes the cake. Something on your mind?"

Him.

"No, not really—"

"Maybe a certain former lab partner of yours?"

Blush creeps up the sides of my face—too fast for me to try to hide it. Mr. K eyes me from behind his black-rimmed glasses and laughs to himself when I fail to give him an answer.

"I'll take that as a yes, then!"

"Wait, no, it's not that, I just—"

"Since we're on the topic of the elusive Mr. King, I was hoping you could run a small errand for me. Don't worry, I won't fail you if you say no. I just thought that if I could ask anyone to do this for me, it would be you."

I wring my hands together hoping it'll take a little edge off my nerves.

"Sure, what did you have in mind?"

Mr. K pulls open his lowest desk drawer and unearths a thick accordion folder filled with neatly organized papers. I step closer to get a better look at the name written in chaotic black Sharpie across the front label.

E. King.

"If it's not too much trouble, would you mind dropping this off at Elias's house this afternoon? Given your performance in my class so far, I figured you'd be the best candidate to explain this week's assignments to him and possibly cheer him up a little while you're at it."

"What do you mean?"

Mr. K leans back in his chair and stares outside our classroom window and over the sports fields toward the ocean.

"Elias's family's going through a tough time right now. His mother has been struggling to make time to come by school to pick up both of her sons' assignments. The situation at home isn't something I'm privy to talk to you about, but this week's been challenging for them to say the least. Luckily, the older sibling's girlfriend has been bringing him his assignments since Monday, but Elias doesn't have anyone to—"

"I'll do it," I say a little too quickly.

Mr. K lets out a hearty laugh and then slides Elias's folder in my direction.

"Are you sure? You don't have to do it because I'm asking you to, Lacey. I understand you have your life and your own priorities."

"And this is now one of them."

"At least check the address first. It's written on the label stuck to the back side. I don't want your father having to go too far out of his way to help you do this."

I take the folder off the desk without so much as glancing at the label and tuck it securely under my arm.

"It's okay. I can do it. I want to. I think—it'll be nice for him to see a familiar face."

"Especially, if it's yours."

"What?"

The 3:30 bell rings and Mr. K rises out of his seat abruptly, stuffs the messy stack of half-graded science quizzes into his leather messenger bag, and grabs his coffee mug. He brings the lid up to his lips and tilts it back only to soak part of his mustache in what I hope is lukewarm coffee.

"I'm sorry to leave you hanging, Ms. Sanders, but if I'm not in the teacher's room in the next five minutes, Principal McGill might be tempted to fire me for showing up late to a staff meeting. I'll see you on Monday, and don't forget to let me know how your drop-off date goes!"

He zooms past me so fast I barely have time to let his words settle in.

"Date?" I ask.

Mr. K stops in the doorway and turns back to face me.

"Did I say that? Slip of the tongue. I'll see you Monday."

He disappears into the hallway while I stay behind still smiling down at Elias's folder in my hands. My phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I open the screen to find a new message from Lucas sitting at the top of my inbox.

Lucas: Hey you :). Just got out of a treasury meeting. You still around?

Me: I am. Actually, I have a big favor to ask.

Lucas: I'm all ears ;)

Me: Mr. K asked me to drop off something at a friend's. It's kind of urgent, so I was wondering if...

Lucas: You need a ride? Done and done. Where to? My sister's still around. If it's not too far, I can ask her to drop you off before she heads to her shift. She's gotta take me home first anyway.

Me: La Jolla.

Lucas: Crazy, that's not too far from my house. I'll ask her right now.

Me: Thank you so much!

Lucas: No problem!

Lucas: She's cool with it :). Meet us in the front parking lot in ten

Me: Kk

Lucas: P.S. Student gov just printed out the finalized flyers for Spring Formal. I left one on your locker. Let me know what you think :)

Me: About the design?

Lucas: About going with me ;).

###

Lucas's text leaves me close to speechless on the ride over to Elias's house. If it hadn't been for his sister, Ashley, doing her best to make casual conversation, I would've drowned in the awkward silence filling the car. 

I don't know if Lucas noticed me avoiding his stares through the rearview or if he even picked up on my uneasiness at all. He spent most of the drive over talking and smiling like nothing was wrong.

But I guess that's where we're different.

He exists too far above other people's problems to realize that they're there.

But I couldn't ignore them if I tried.

"Is this it? Wow, you've got friends in high places, Lacey," Ashley says as she slows her car to a stop in front of a mammoth of a house overlooking the ocean.

"I think so. Thanks so much for the ride, Ash. I owe you both," I say while trying my best to swallow the surge of nerves rising in my stomach. Lucas clicks off his seatbelt and turns around to face me looking a little less sure of himself than usual.

"Whose place did you say this was again?" He asks through a tight smile.

I grab Elias's folder off of the empty seat next to me and grip it tightly in my hands.

"Just a friend—"

"Elias—right?"

My breath hitches in my throat.

"Yeah, anyway, I should get going. I'll see you at school on Monday."

I reach for the door handle only for Lucas to reach for me before I can open it.

"You'll think about what I said right? Spring Formal's only a couple weeks away, and if I'm gonna get us tickets—"

"I'll let you know. See you, Lucas."

His face falls a little as he settles back into his seat without saying another word. I exit the car and Ashley waves goodbye while Lucas stares blankly into his phone without looking back at me once. The gesture's cold and unlike him, but my mind's too busy racing over the thought of seeing Elias for me to worry about anything else.

I stand on the sidewalk and watch the red glow of Ashley's tail lights until they disappear out of the gated entrance we came through.

My heart rate spikes once I shift my focus over to the lonely silhouette of a house blocking out the San Diego sunset in front of me.

Elias's house is quiet. Intimidating. Even with the lulling of the Pacific breaking against the beaches a couple miles below, there's a stillness in the air that makes me uneasy.

I should be more at peace than I am. I should be wildly impressed or overly excited about being in front of a place like this, the way Ashley was back in the car.

I'm steps away from a beautiful two-story, beach-side home nestled between rows of neatly planted palm trees in one of San Diego's richest neighborhoods. Everything about this place is unreal. Untouchable. 

The carefully manicured plants in the front yard are placed along a low-lit slate pathway leading up to the front of the house. Wide bay windows face out toward the street and would be welcoming if the curtains weren't drawn on the other side. There's hints of Spanish style and warmth in the red-shingled rooftop and the hanging flowers dripping from the window sills on the second floor. People dream about owning places like this.

My dad did.

This was the kind of home he could've had if he'd chosen his career in baseball over me and Mom. Sometimes I wonder if he still dreams about this kind of life—coming home every night to a three-car garage, a balcony with an ocean view, and a grander existence than the one he settled for.

But if he'd chosen all this, he would've been lonely. He wouldn't have had the kind love that used to be tangible in our tiny two-bedroom home. Estates like these are striking, impressive, but almost always terribly lonely.

Elias's eyes were proof of that. And now that I'm standing outside of his home, I feel the sadness it's so desperately trying to hide.

But, the truth is, no matter how big or small a home may be, sadness has a way of always making itself known, overshadowing everything, filling whatever space it can to the fullest.

Before the familiarity of this feeling can settle in, I force myself to take a step forward, to push past the impulse to run back down the hill, call my dad, and pretend I wasn't here at all. It's easy to leave people and their complications. I've seen it happen time and time again, but I've never been in the position of leaving someone. I'm always the person who's left behind.

There's an awful emptiness in knowing that someone could've been there for you, but chose not to.

So I choose differently.

For myself.

For him.

And it's that choice that drives every single one of my steps forward until I reach his front door.

I stare at the doorbell for a few long uncomfortable seconds before raising my trembling fingers to ring it.

The door flies open fast enough to startle me, but I hold my ground. Elias appears in front of me, eyes sunken, tired, and beyond broken but still hopeful.

Still breathtaking.

Still terribly lonely.

"Hi. Um, I'm s-sorry to show up unannounced like this, but I—"

"I saw you. From upstairs, I mean. I wasn't trying to scare you by opening the door like that I just—"

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip and stares down at his bare feet.

"—I just had to see if you were really—here. You are, right? I'm not seeing things."

I fight back a smile and hand his science folder to ground him. He takes it from me with unsteady hands.

"No, you're not seeing things. I actually came here because—"

I think I miss you.

"—because I wanted to know if you were okay. And, if you're not, just say the word and I'll go—"

"Don't—"

Suddenly, he's holding me.

"—please don't go anywhere."

Suddenly, I'm surrounded by the careful strength of his arms, the unsteady rhythm of his breathing, and the intensity of his silence.

He lowers his head in the soft slope of my shoulder and something inside me breaks. The mile high wall of steel and concrete I'd built between my heart and my head dissolves in a matter of seconds.

I tighten ten unsure fingers around the cloth of his t-shirt and hold him steady. I let him in. Just for a little while.

Just long enough to realize that the weight of my emptiness is a little lighter when he's this close.

The thought excites and eventually terrifies me to the point where I pull away from him.

I don't do it because I want to but because I'm getting lost.

In the moment.

In the mix of sea salt and soap rising off of his skin.

In him.

And somewhere in the middle of me struggling to find my feet, the heart of Elias's sadness finds its way to me.

I glance down at the collar of his t-shirt and catch sight of the red-purple bruising staining the skin around his neck.

And my heart drops.

Violently.

Unexpectedly.

It crashes out of my chest and shatters all over his front steps.

I force my eyes back up to his and try harder than I ever have in my life to smile like everything's fine.

Because he needs things to be fine.

Because I need to be fine for his sake.

Because I don't want him to feel like I'm prying into any part of his secrets.

But the muscles in my mouth won't move.

My teeth stay hidden behind two trembling lips as tears streak down the curves of my cheeks.

Elias pulls me close again, and I fall apart in a way that I've haven't allowed myself to in front of anyone.

Not for a long time.

I want to apologize.

I want him to forgive me for being this weak when he needs someone strong.

But I can't speak.

And strangely enough, he doesn't seem to expect me to.

I don't know how long we stay like that, but after a while, he steps back and gently lifts my chin up so we're facing each other.

So neither of us can hide.

He stares at me, lips parting slightly as a ghost of a breath passes in between, and I wait.

I wait for him to break through the quiet, to fill it with forced conversation and bury the memory of this moment like it never happened.

But he doesn't say a word.

And his silence says everything.

###

Thank you guys so much for reading/listening/tuning in this weekend! We hope you enjoyed this moment between Elias and Lacey! Next weekends update should be on time unless we say otherwise (although I might be getting a wisdom tooth pulled on Friday). I'll keep you posted! 

 #RealTalkQuestionofTheWeek

1.  Has anyone ever liked you/pursued you who you weren't interested in? How did you let them down/get them to stop making advances?

2. What do you think is the best thing you can do for someone who is stuck in an abusive/violent situation?