My dad didn't show up.

I wasn't sure which was worse, the possibility of me repeating Philosophy next semester (I failed my fucking midterms) or my dad not bothering to visit me here.

Funny, I seriously thought he'd come to Parents Weekend here at KPK. I knew I wasn't his favorite child, but still.

I should've known better.

Thank God, the squad was handling the group mission like pros. They let me handle the little stuff, like talking to sponsors and emailing back and forth with the events team. Honestly, I couldn't concentrate with all the shit that was happening to me right now. But that much, I could do.

A couple of girls passed by, looking at me and whispering. I was sitting in the middle of the front lawn of the KPK house, getting some fresh air. I raised an eyebrow at them, daring them to say something to my face.

After seeing my expression, they squeaked and hurried away.

Dicks.

I pulled out my phone and checked my instagram, mostly out of boredom. A lot of people had been tagging me everywhere, telling me I was a slut, a gold digger, a two-timer.

Funny how they were all basing this off a couple measly stolen shots that didn't even really prove anything. They weren't even remotely fucking scandalous.

But I guess they were bored out of their goddamn minds and lapped up a stupid as shit rumor. Some even kept telling me I didn't deserve Scout.

It was getting old.

And while reading those kind of comments wasn't great, I'd be lying if I said that they didn't affect me even a little bit. I didn't need them to tell me I didn't deserve Scout. I knew that already.

He deserved someone sweet, caring, and proper. He deserved someone who'd bring him sunshine on his cloudy days, not me who'd bring on the storm instead.

I checked my private messages. Still no news from Frisco. I stopped asking him for daily updates a few days ago. If he had something, I knew he'd tell me right away.

Suddenly, I received a notification that Drew just posted a new photo. Wanting to see something that would at least brighten my already shitty day, I clicked on it.

It was a photo of him... and Dad.

Dad went to see him. He took a flight to see Drew, couldn't even be bothered to drive a couple of hours to check on me. Not even give me a text.

Nothing.

Drew looked so happy.

He didn't know.

He had no idea that Dad was supposed to meet me for Parents Weekend. He had no idea that Dad never once reached out to me to ask how I was doing. He had no idea that Dad didn't love me as he loved him.

Tears escaped and rolled down my cheeks before I could blink them away. I quickly wiped my face dry before anyone had the chance to see, which was unlikely as everybody was inside with their families.

I took deep breaths, willing myself to calm the fuck down and keep the tears at bay. I wouldn't break down in public. No fucking way.

Without thinking too much about it, I shot to my feet and left the KPK house. There was no point staying, the sun was setting and everyone else was busy.

I headed to one of the pubs in town, the one where middle-aged locals went to. I didn't want to run into any familiar faces. I just wanted to get away.

I wanted to forget.

* * * * *

Someone whistled. Someone else hooted. Someone even slapped their wooden table with their beer mug – or maybe it was a bottle.

Don't know. Don't care.

I kept my eyes closed, swaying my body to the music. I drowned out the noise, focusing on the beat and trying not to slip out of this table I was standing on.

Yeah, I was dancing on top of a table.

Who fucking cared?

No one.

No one ever did.

"Take it off!"

Laughter surrounded me. I shut them out.

"Strip, sweetheart!"

They continued to try to egg me on, but I ignored their motherfucking voices. I wasn't here to entertain them. I was here to forget.

Wait, what am I trying to forget?

I giggled to myself.

Huh, looks like it's working.

It had been so long since I got drunk enough not to care about anything. I loved this feeling. God, I missed this. I missed not giving a fuck.

Scout made me soft.

Back in high school, I could handle just about any shitty thing. I wasn't fucking weak. I wouldn't crumble at having bad grades, getting cyberbullied by jealous skanks, and not receiving love from my dear old father.

Back in high school, I'd just join my friends in whatever illegal shit they were up to and let the rage roam free. I had an outlet. I had them.

They didn't ask questions. They understood.

Here... it was different.

I forgot how to deal with shit like this. I forgot how to be blissfully indifferent. I forgot how it felt like to be... me.

And I only had one person to blame.

Scout fucking Crimson.

"Anderson, get down from there."

Great, now his voice of conscience was invading my mind.

"Now."

My eyes snapped open. My ginger angel was right in front of me, watching me with his piercing green eyes. His expression was one I've never seen before. He looked so angry, angrier than that morning he caught me with Alfie.

"I swear, I'll drag you down if I have to."

Who the fuck was he to order me around?

Glaring at him, I jumped down from the table and swayed for a bit. He reached out to balance me but I stepped back, out of his reach. I didn't give a fuck how he found me, or why he was even here.

Turning my back to him, I ran to the back exit. I didn't want to face the person who made me weak. He turned me into this version of myself that I didn't like.

He ruined me.

"Anderson!"

I hurried my pace as I ran down the alley, craving to crawl into bed and just forget this fucked up world even for a little while. But I guessed I wasn't fast enough. Scout's warm hand grabbed my arm and forced me around to look at him.

"I heard from Madeline."

Madeline and her big fucking mouth.

"What did you hear?" I demanded, crossing my arms.

"That you failed your midterms."

I waited, knowing there was more.

"And that your dad didn't show up today."

Thanks for the fucking reminder.

"You're not alone. I get it."

"No, you don't," I argued.

"Let me understand, then," he said.

My jaw clenched, hesitating. But then, I shook my head.

"No, you wouldn't understand."

"Try me," he urged.

"I already fucking told you!" I snapped, shoving him hard but the motherfucker didn't even budge. "You and your perfect life won't get it!"

"Yeah? Well, guess what?" he shot back, stepping closer as he scowled at me. "My life is far from perfect. But you don't see that because you'd only rather see the Scout everybody else sees."

I breathed hard, not backing down from his glare.

"Like you don't think I'll understand your need for revenge?" he continued. "Do I need to remind you that Finn McKinley was my best friend?"

Finn McKinley, the one who burned down the high school football building two years ago. He did a lot more fucked up shit than that as senior year rolled around.

"Did you know that I spent months trying to figure out what I could've done to help stop it – to stop him?" added Scout, shaking his head in disbelief. "I ask myself almost everyday why I didn't see it coming, why he didn't let me in. I could've helped him. I could've..." He paused to take a deep breath. "I could've saved him."

I doubted it. His psycho best friend was far off the edge that even Scout couldn't do anything to stop that dipshit from losing it.

"Did he think I wouldn't get it because he thought I was stuck in my own little bubble in my perfect little life?" He barked a humorless laugh. "I'm not fragile."

He locked his green eyes with my blue ones. His expression was mixed with lots of things – hurt, anger, betrayal, and sadness.

"And I'm not fucking perfect," he hissed, through gritted teeth.

This was probably the first time Scout shared something real with me. I'd seen him mad, I'd seen him playful, and I'd seen him happy.

But I've never seen him vulnerable.

Just now, he told me something that had been eating him up inside since the events of last year. I knew it made him realize the true meaning of friendship, and he lost his friends because of it. But I had no idea it affected him this deep.

I had no idea that a part of him blamed himself for what happened to Finn.

I looked away from him, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"My mom bailed when I was five," I confessed.

Scout didn't say anything. He stayed quiet, waiting for me to continue.

"Drew said he heard our folks arguing about money all the time back then. I guess one day she couldn't take it anymore, packed her bags, and left."

Just like that. And she never looked back.

"You know what the best fucking part is?" I smiled at him, but it didn't reach my eyes. "I'm not even Dad's. He's not my biological father. She cheated on him and got pregnant by some asshole who didn't want anything to do with me. Dad knew, and he still kept me and raised me like his own. But as I grew older, I looked more and more like the bitch who left him. He didn't like the reminder, so he grew distant. So much so that it's as if I don't exist anymore."

The rage was gone in Scout's eyes, only sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Connie," he said.

I shook my head, looking up to stop the tears from falling. "Sometimes, I think it would've sucked less if she died instead."

"You don't mean that."

"But I do," I told him, meeting his eyes straight on. "Sure, maybe you're not perfect. But you didn't grow up with practically nothing on your back but clothes. You didn't live in a crappy house on the wrong side of town. You didn't use to have a crazy bitch of a stepmother who treated you like shit. You didn't have a dad who loved you with all his heart, and then suddenly stays away from you like the plague."

Shit, my nose was clogging up. But fuck it, I wasn't stopping now.

"You don't always have to prove yourself. You don't care if people get too close because you got nothing to hide – no fucking demons haunting you. You don't have trust issues because you're not too chicken shit to let other people see the real you."

Like I am with you.

"You're not afraid to be happy because you're not worried that it would bite you in the ass and leave you wrecked. You don't wanna admit that even though you're used to the fucking disappointments in your life, you still have that tiny bit of hope for things to fall into place. But they never fucking do."

I couldn't help the tears from escaping anymore. I let them roll down my face, not caring anymore whoever saw me like this.

"All my life, I've done nothing but hold on to that hope and fight."

I didn't want to fight anymore.

"I give up."

Closing my eyes, I let my head fall forward as I wiped my tears away. I was tired – physically, mentally, and emotionally.

"I'm still here," said Scout softly.

My blue eyes filled with tears opened, locking with his green ones. He gave me a sad expression – an almost pleading one. The kind that I knew I'd give him anything he wanted just to make it go away.

"Fight for me."

A fresh batch of tears streamed out and I bit my lower lip, trying so hard not to sob. He stepped closer to me, his warm hands reaching out to grab my elbows.

"I'm not going anywhere," he assured me.

I only looked up at him, my face not hiding anything anymore. I was too tired to hold up a strong facade. I let him see the mess I truly was.

He put his strong arms tight around me, as if he was shielding me from the world. It felt so safe being surrounded by his smell and his warmth, that I couldn't help the loud sob that escaped. I held a fistful of his shirt, grabbing onto him as I let everything pour out.

Every pain.

Every feeling.

Everything I buried deep inside came out all at once.

"I'm not going anywhere," he repeated, kissing the side of my head. "I promise."

I let myself believe him.

_____________

Next update: Sunday (March 22)

#SavageMeWP