I am incapable of closing my eyes for too long. No matter how hard I try, it always results in me opening them again, only to be faced by darkness. It's been two hours and I haven't been able to fall asleep. Yann on the other hand is curled up on his reclined seat, face turned toward me. I look at him but I don't see him. Maybe that's what will always happen, I'll be looking at him but I will never see him for who he truly is no matter how hard I try to. I'll never know him because he has made the decision to keep his heart closed to people and prefers to bathe himself in loneliness.

I don't think I'll ever be able to fathom why his words hurt but I know they did. One opens up to people who matter. What did I expect? For him to pour his heart out in one night in a moment of pure emotional turmoil? No, certainly not. But neither did I expect it to hurt.

I look at him, stare at his face. His traits are unworried for once, the frown gone. I brush away a strand of his hair that has fallen onto his eyes like I usually do with Lucy, it's a reflex. Yann furrows his eyebrows in sleepy protest but he soon lets himself bask in the insouciance of sleep.

I'm cold despite the thick and heavy material covering me. Yann doesn't appear to be cold, but just to make sure he doesn't wake up sick the next morning, I decide to cover him as well. Unfolding the sheets, I deploy them to see how large they are. They're ample enough to cover the both of us. Carefully, I take a corner of the blanket and spread it over him. He seems to like the provided comfort as he snuggles like a child under the sheets.

I replace myself in a fetal position and face Yann. I think of how badly I wanted to escape him at all costs when we first met but truth is, I don't want to avoid him. I can't avoid him anyways. He's friends with Ellie and Will. It's nearly impossible; proof is, I am stuck in a car with him right now.

Once more, as my eyelids are drooping low and a yawn escapes my lips, I take a look at the guy who's so afraid to talk, so afraid to let in more people than he already has.

And in this moment, I am sure of one thing: I will not go down without a fight.

***

The next morning, movements in my jeans' front pocket wake me up and I jolt up in my seat. I face Yann who doesn't seem to be the least bothered by such an unusual awakening and continues what he is doing. His hand is in my pocket and he's pushing his hand further down.

Feeling violated, I shout, "What are you doing?" and try to slap his hand away but it doesn't bulge.

Instead of removing his hand, Yann looks up at me with a bored expression. "Don't flatter yourself." He rolls his eyes before adding, "I need to check the time."

He then pulls out my phone from my pocket, looks down at the screen, grumbles and throws the phone back at me. He falls back against his seat and sighs, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Couldn't you wake me up and ask? Or couldn't you wait for me to wake up? What normal people stick their hands into a sleeping girl's front pocket to check the time?"

He sighs again. "Graham," he starts, impatient, "it's seven in the morning. Please spare me."

He rubs his face into his palms again. I look at him, feeling a little sad that he's back to his usual self. The frown that was gone from his face last night is back, the worry once more contorting his features into something almost unpleasant to behold. What is he so worried about?

I decide to spare him as he requests and switch topics. "How did you sleep?" I ask casually with another yawn.

He shoots me a distrusting look. "Fine."

I check the time on my phone and notice that it's indeed seven. 7:14am to be more precise. I look outside the window, still wet with sparse raindrops and cold from the unforgiving weather of last night. The asphalt underneath us is surely still damp and the nature surrounding us is brighter, livelier with water calmly resting on the leaves.

"You're still cold?"

My head snaps to Yann, surprised as to why he's asking me that. "No. Why?"

He juts his chin out at the sheets. "You still have them around you."

"No, I'm okay. Thanks."

We sit in an uncomfortable silence and I wrap the sheets tighter around myself. I start to doodle again on the small surface of the window covered with mist. Surprising myself, I find that I wrote Will's name on the window. I smile and am about to write Ellie next to it before putting both names in a heart when Yann speaks next to me.

"Will, huh?"

I snap my head towards Yann who's looking at me with one eyebrow lifted up. He's looking at me, his face a mask I can't discern. But I hear it in his voice, the same envious tone from two days ago when I was going to the river with Will.

I decide not to beat around the bush. "Why do you sound so envious?"

Yann frowns at my words. "I don't sound envious. What are you talking about?"

"You may not realize it, but you do. And that's the second time you're doing it," I say as I still try to figure out where this envy comes from. "And both times, you were talking about Will."

When he says nothing, I ask, "Are you jealous of him?"

I realize this probably isn't a conversation to have so early in the morning but sometimes, words tend to leave my lips without my consent.

"And why would I be jealous of him?" Yann asks and tilts his head to the side as if daring me to find a proper answer.

I do have an answer for that, I just am not sure if it's the proper answer. "Many reasons, I guess. He's your whole opposite, kind of. He's likeable, nice and funny, he's got friends, he goes to college, he–"

Damnit! I think as I shut my mouth. That last one makes its way out before I can stop it. I clamp my mouth shut immediately but it's already said. I can see the moment Yann's features change and I find myself staring back at the Yann on the road that day, the one whose feelings got hurt when I not-so-nicely reminded him that he wasn't attending college.

I take a little too long to realize that Yann is leaving the car and as he always so gracefully does, he slams the car door. Struggling with the door handle in my haste to get out the vehicle, I end up opening the door with much force and my body is propelled out. Catching myself just in time, I start running towards Yann who's striding away. His legs are long, allowing him to take longer steps whereas I am running to get to him.

"Yann! Wait!"

I keep looking at him and not where my feet are going. Therefore, my shin hurts an obstacle on my way and before I can try to regain my balance, I am falling onto something rough. I roll over a hard surface, the sheets I have kept around me deadening the harshness of my impact. My cheeks however are not spared and I feel them scratch as something hard bites into my skin.

In the end, my body collapses onto the freezing concrete, the cold defeating the thick material of the sheets and reaching my tender skin. I let out a hiss of pain as I clutch my tibia to my stomach.

"Fuck, Graham!"

I fight back the tears that are begging to be freed to relieve some of my pain. I feel Yann's presence next to me and his arms around me as he lifts me up, resting my back against something behind me. A tree trunk, I realize as I feel the bark bite into my back.

"Why do you have to be so damn annoying?" He mutters before speaking more clearly, "Are you alright?"

I shake my head at him, unable to speak, afraid the tears will spill. I am still clutching my tibia very closely, hoping to cause more pain than the pain itself to see if Dad is right – he says that the cure to pain is pain. I believe he couldn't be more wrong and I stop pressing at my shinbone. I don't think hurting myself more is going to ease the pain. It hurts.

I wince in pain as Yann removes my hand and places his instead. I don't know what causes more pain, the coldness of his hand or the pressure he's applying.

He shushes me softly, cooing reassuringly. "Does it hurt badly?" He inquires as presses a little harder. I try to push his hands away but he only presses harder and massages. Apparently, Yann is one of those who believe that pain cures pain – along with my father.

"Fuck, stop!" I shout as I try to push his hand once more but he doesn't back down. "Yann, stop!"

He doesn't listen. He's not listening. It hurts. It hurts like freaking hell. "You asshole! Don't!"

Hopeless, I start kicking my feet out as I shower his chest with punches. He only massages my tibia harder, no word spoken, not a sound made at my assault. The tears are slowly falling and in my last resort, I do what I did the time a high school guy had tried to force himself upon me and kiss me. Swinging my head backwards, I bring it back forward and aim for Yann's forehead. However, he sees my intentions and moves a tad to the side, still not letting go of my shinbone. I manage to hit the side of his forehead and that destabilizes him a little.

Getting the opportunity, I snatch my foot out of his grip and crawl away on the ground, ignoring the growing throbbing in my head now.

"Shit!" He exclaims as he clutches the side of his head. "Why did you do that?" He grunts in pain.

"How does it feel, huh?" I spit back at him.

Both my forehead and my shinbone are in pain right now so I know I must be hurting more than Yann is, but it satisfies me nonetheless to know that he is hurting as well.

On his knees, he blinks several times before adjusting his view. The moment he does so, his gaze is on me and he gets up on his feet. He marches towards me and I back down as fast as I can using my hands and heels across the concrete to crawl away.

"Stay away from me!"

I keep backing as much as I can but he is walking faster towards me. He squats down before me and rests his elbows on his knees. "Hey," he calls softly in what he's forcing himself to be a soft tone. "How does it feel now?"

"Don't touch it!" I warn him with a finger in his face.

"I'm not going to touch it, I'm just asking how it feels!" He snaps in exasperation.

Tentatively, I palpate my tibia. When it doesn't hurt, I press harder, harder and harder until it hurts a little. "Better." I conclude.

He nods, as if expecting this answer. Before I can say a thing, he takes my hands in his and pulls me up to my feet. "Can you walk?"

I place my foot delicately on the ground and apply some pressure to it. It hurts a little but not that much for me not to walk to the car. "Yes, I can."

I lean on Yann as he helps me climb over the trunk. He steps on the other side and reaches out to take me under my armpits. Tenderly, he places me on the ground. He wraps his hands around my waist and helps me wobble to the car. He opens the passenger door and helps me in. Moving back my seat, he inclines it and lays me down carefully, folding the blanket around my body.

He takes off my sneakers and I don't have the time to tell him not to. I look away when he takes them off, a little bit embarrassed as I scold myself for taking my jogging sneakers. I've slept with them all night to top it all. I know they must reek of my foot perspiration.

Yann lifts my leg up, placing my foot on the dashboard. I thank the heavens that he is considerate enough not to point it out.

"You know," he says, "sneakers can be washed."

Those words are said just as my grateful mental prayer is done. Color mounts to my cheeks and I keep looking away obstinately.

"I'm going," he says as he closes my door. "I'll see if I can get someone to help us. Stay there."

I watch as he jumps over the trunk in the middle of the road and distances himself from me with long strides, in search of a living soul kind enough to give us a ride. I suddenly think of Ellie and Will. They must be worried about us. I reach for my phone but I know there is no point. I can't call anyways. No signal still.

Groaning in frustration and feeling helpless, I slouch in my seat. I want to start reading a book but I'm worried that Ellie and Will are worried about us. It makes me restless and I wish I didn't have a hurting shinbone right now. I could do something, anything.

I am still muttering curses under my breath when the sound of an approaching car catches my attention. Looking in the flip-down mirror, I realize there is no car coming from behind us. I then look out the windshield as what looks like a pickup truck makes its way towards me. I couldn't orient myself with sounds if my life depended on it.

Getting out of the car, I hold myself up with the help of the door and watch as the truck gets closer. It's a very familiar truck. It's Will's truck.

"Will!" I scream and start waving at him like an idiot. Of course he can see me. It's not like he has to look for me.

Before the car completely comes to a stop, someone jumps out of the passenger side and I recognize my best friend's brown hair as it floats behind her. I have barely made my way past the door when Ellie comes barreling at me, throwing me back as she flings her arms around me.

"We were so worried," she sobs out as she hugs me close.

I squeeze her back with both arms. "It's OK, El. We're fine."

As the words leave my mouth, I suddenly think of Yann. I am about to ask her where he is when I see him standing behind us next to Will. Finally, she lets go of me and I see tears shining in her eyes. "I swear, nothing much happened, Ellie. We're alright."

She nods, as if believing my words at last. The guys walk past us and Will gives me a quick hug while saying, "Good to have you back, Tracy." They carry the TV and the lamp from Ellie's car to Will's pickup. Ellie helps me limp to the pickup and I happily take a seat in the back. While I go to lie down, my eyes briefly meet Yann's in the rearview mirror and for a second I freeze. For a fleeting second, I see something resembling softness on his face but it is gone quickly and he looks away. Not thinking too much of it, I lay down and let my head rest in Ellie's lap. With her hands softy stroking my hair, I fall asleep.

When we get home, Will and Yann install the TV and Ellie connects the lamp. The guys don't stay and Will goes to drive Yann back home. Whereas Will takes the time to hug me again and send a warm smile my way, Yann doesn't even glance at me. I don't expect any less from him anyways.

That night, Ellie and I sit in front of the TV, eating too much popcorn (that we buttered too much) and drinking Cokes. That's our dinner, somehow. We have spent the whole day stuffing ourselves with sandwiches and ice cream as we recalled our first year of college, all the ups and downs. The time when I got drunk and could barely walk; when in her drunken state she kissed Thomas Pullock thinking it was her crush Nicolas Ward and claimed that they looked so alike (I swear to you, even drunk, Pullock and Ward do not look the same.); when I tried beer pong and whatever else college parties are made of. There wasn't one of those moments when Ellie wasn't by my side, and it was during all those times that I thanked God that we had been accepted in the same college.

"Where did you watch your show then, last night?"

Ellie sends me a glare at the teasing tone of my voice before taking a handful of popcorn. "I didn't. I was too busy worrying about you. I fell asleep around four in the morning and two hours later, Will was at last knocking on my door."

"What do you mean at last?" I frown.

"Don't you think we would have come get you guys sooner if Will hadn't been out of town?" She asks as if I should have thought of that before. Which I should have, really. "I was stuck here with no car and no one to turn to. With the trees that fell, there was even an accident last night, I heard it on the news. I swear, those roads are worse than black ice when it rains."

"What was Will out of town for, anyways? I thought he was at the fair thingie with you."

She shakes her head. "No, he just dropped me off then he went back to pick up his dad. They had this thing to do, I don't know what exactly."

We fall into silence as we watch the movie that's starting on TV. I feel content to have my best friend even if it's just for one night, as we watch some stupid rom-com. Her feet propped up on me, the popcorn resting in her lap, we're sitting so close you could think we're conjoined twins. She starts laughing at something someone says and as I laugh with her, I know there is nowhere else I would want to be tonight and right now.

•••

Chapter 14! I hope you enjoyed it :)
A huge thank you to all the people who voted and commented and added my story to their reading list! I can't get back to all of you yet (college life, ugh) but I will in the upcoming weeks. Thank you so so much!
Love <3