Sarah Campbell
*trigger warning*

"I don't want to go," Aubrey complained, throwing me an annoyed glare.

"But I've been doing so well," I whined, climbing in next to her in her bed. "You have to come with me!"

"I'm not a gym person Sarah. I don't do the gym."

"In the five years that you've known me have I ever been either?"

"So why must we start now?" she groaned, shoving me off the bed.

"Because I can't break my three-day streak!"

"Go with your brother. He lives there doesn't he?"

"Well yeah," I agreed. "But he's taking a rather forced break for a couple of days, courtesy of Cade. So now you have to come with me."

"So I have Caden to thank for this?"

"Precisely."

"What do I get out of this?" Aubrey demanded, lowering her eyes at me.

"Better health?"

"Not good enough."

"I'll go to your 8 AM tomorrow and take the notes."

She raised an eyebrow at me as she carefully considered my offer. "You'll stay the entire time?"

"The whole hour-fifteen."

"Deal. Give me ten minutes to get ready."

As I was waiting on Aubrey to get ready, in her ever so slow fashion, my phone buzzed.

"That's a complete mood 360," Aubrey commented, as she jumped onto my bed. "What's got you pissy?"

"Adam Watson."

"That hunk of ass?"

I gave her a hard shove to which she just laughed. "Come on Sarah, even you have to admit that he's a beautifully sculpted man."

"Not in this lifetime." I shoved myself off my bed, offering my hand to Aubrey. "Ready to go?"

"Not in the slightest. But I'll do anything to get out of that 8 AM, so let's go."

~*~

"So I haven't received a report from you on A. Watson in two weeks," Mark said, leaning back in his desk chair.

"I know."

"Sarah, I've got the Athletic Department on my ass. His meetings are mandatory, I've got to get a report."

"I have him begging," I promised. "We'll meet this week. Mark my words."

Mark lowered his eyes at me as I cracked up at the unintentional pun.

"If you don't get something to me this week I'm going to have to report his absences," Mark warned.

Like hell he will.

I'm not having Adam's black mark on my blemish-free record.

"Trust me. I've got this all under control."

"I've never doubted you."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. "How's my brother?"

"That's classified."

"Just between you and me."

He leaned forward, his face inches from mine. "Still classified."

I fell back with a sigh, shooting him a glare. "You're an ass."

"An ass who likes his job."

I stood up and Mark followed my lead.

"Report. My desk. End of the week."

"Will do. Short sentences. Accentuate your point."

Mark rolled his eyes as I shot him a smile before walking out of his office.

"You have that smile," Aubrey commented, as I walked into our dorm room.

She was seated at her desk, her legs kicked out onto her bed as she held a textbook in her lap.

"What smile?" I questioned, climbing up onto my bed.

"That smile," she reiterated. "You know, the one when you've done something."

"Vague."

"I know what I'm talking about and that's all that matters. So Sarah Louise, what did you do?"

"Never speak my middle name."

It made me cringe.

Aubrey just laughed.

"I won."

"Oh boy." She placed her textbook down, letting out a sigh. "This sounds like a story."

"One for the ages."

"Well let's hear it. Better than having to study for Humanities, bullshit class that is anyways."

~*~

I was running late.

Now Adam knows how it feels.

I could feel my phone buzzing in my back pocket as I zig-zagged my way through campus, the Starbucks in sight.

I knew that it was probably Adam calling me, irritated because I was already ten minutes late and counting. But I'd wanted to make the most of my Starbucks visit, since I hadn't gotten any homework done in my dorm room yesterday.

Aubrey and I had a gossip session followed by a Netflix marathon. It was hard rooming with your best friend when you had actual schoolwork to get done too.

I figured that after my meeting with Adam it would be the perfect opportunity for me to take some time for myself.

But then I found myself scrambling when I couldn't find my planner, which had my entire life scheduled in it. That search set me ten minutes behind, and my room was disastrous because of it.

"You're late," Adam commented, as I took my seat across from him.

He was at the same table we were at last time, his gaze concentrated down on his phone.

"I know from your phone calls."

"I haven't called you."

I dropped my backpack on the ground, pulling out my phone as I sat down.

Two missed calls from Joel.

I turned my phone on silent, sliding it to the side of the table.

"So I'm here. I'm alive. I'm breathing. We good?" Adam asked, his tone flat.

"I'm going to need more than that if you want a new report."

He lowered his eyes at me, his jaw twitching. "I'm not here to blackmailed."

"I'm not blackmailing you. I'm asking you to show up to our meetings. Congratulations, step one complete. Now I'm asking you to just talk to me. It doesn't have to be about anything important. Talk to me about your day. About your roommate whose name I can't remember. Talk to me about your teammates. You're QB 1, I'm sure you have something."

He leaned back in his seat, his face impassive.

I wish I could read him, know what he was thinking.

"And what do you get out of this?"

I raised an eyebrow at him in question.

"Meeting me once a week. Listening to my ramblings. What's your take out of it?"

He could try to pry his way into my life but I had nothing to hide.

"I get a graduate school review."

And at this point it was bound to be state-of-the-art.

"And what is it you want to be?"

"I want to get my Masters in Political Science."

"Why?" he asked, shaking his head. "That's a fucking waste of money."

"I think that's for me to decide."

He idly picked up the half-wrapped straw in front of him, letting it dangle in his hand for a few moments. "My week has sucked. My game was shit. My coach is pissed. And my roommate, whose name is Terrence by the way? He's being a fucking douche."

I raised my eyebrows, surprised at Adam's outburst.

"So there. Are we done here now?"

"Is there anything you want to elaborate on?" I asked, leaning forward to rest my elbows on the table.

"Not really." He picked back up the straw, twirling it in his fingers.

Adam looked different today. Usually it was like fighting fire-with-fire, his presence filling up the room. But today he was subdued, his face relatively blank.

"I think you have a lot on your plate right now. And it doesn't really help you if you try and carry the entire weight of the world on your shoulders."

Adam shot me an annoyed glare. "I didn't know I had a therapist now."

"I'm just saying. You don't have to keep everything bottled up. I'm literally right here. You can talk to me about anything you want to."

"So you can write it down and turn it in. Yeah, no thanks."

"I only have to write down that we met and a brief overview of what we talked about. I don't have to include whatever you don't want me to."

"Then why the fuck did you include my alcohol spiel last time?" he demanded, anger seeping through his impassive demeanor.

"Because you literally didn't give me anything else to work with and refused to meet with me. What did you expect me to do?"

He didn't answer, slumping down in his seat in silence.

It was like dealing with a toddler having a tantrum.

"It's not like it fucking matters," he muttered, ripping off the remaining wrapper of the straw into pieces. "I'm 18 now, nobody can force me back into rehab."

As soon as the words left his mouth his entire body stiffened, his eyes shooting up to meet mine.

I could've asked. He'd opened the door and it was mine for the taking.

But his body language was quite the opposite. He was waiting for my attack, ready for a defense.

So I just reached out and took the straw that he was so tightly gripping onto, gently placing it onto the table. "Relax QB 1. I'm not here to wrestle your deepest darkest secrets out of you. I'm just here to be that friend that you never wanted."

He let out a small laugh at that, his body relaxing a bit. But not quite enough. He was still tense, still unsure.

"Intentional or not, I appreciate the insight. It helps me see a clearer picture of you."

"The QB who can't keep his shit together?" Adam asked, his voice slightly shaking. "Fucking great."

"No," I declined, offering him a small smile. "That's not how I see it."

He stared at me, his jaw tense as he awaited what I'm sure he thought was going to be a verbal slap.

I had a feeling that's what Adam received a lot of, intentional or not. And that he had trouble accepting any sort of encouragement or emotional support.

"I see you as every other college kid here. Living on their own for the first time, trying to make a go of things. And getting a little mixed up along the way. No shame in that."

Adam let out a long laugh, letting his head dip back. "Share your wisdom with my father, would you?"

"I'd be happy to."

Adam cleared his throat, glancing away from me, clearly signaling that this conversation was over.

He then checked his phone, casting me a glance. "So are we done here then?"

I guess that's all the feelings that Adam Watson could muster up for one afternoon.

"Have somewhere else to be?"

"Yeah, my afternoon nap."

I went to check the time on my phone, instead being greeted by missed calls from Joel.

"Okay, well that sounds like fun," I said to Adam, glancing down at my phone as I stood up. "My brother's been trying to call me for the past hour though, so I'm going to answer this."

He waved me off with a flick of his wrist, already walking out of the coffee shop door.

"Hey Joel, what's up?" I asked, crossing my left leg over my right.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice hoarse. "Are you, uh, busy?"

"Nope, just over at the campus Starbucks. Why? What's up?"

"Could you maybe come over?" he questioned, quietly. "And stay for a bit."

I grabbed my backpack before standing up to leave, my eyebrows wrinkling together in concern. "Of course J, is everything okay?"

"I'll just see you in a few, okay?" And then the line clicked dead.

I made my way across campus to Joel's on-campus apartment complex. I let myself inside, waiting for him to come downstairs and let me up.

Instead I came face-to-face with his roommate.

"Joel texted me saying that his sister was coming over? Said he'd pay me five bucks to come down here and let you in," his roommate said, flashing me a smile.

I followed his roommate upstairs, thanking him for letting me in as he collected a five-dollar bill that Joel had left out on the counter.

I pushed open the door to Joel's room, shutting it behind me.

Joel was sitting criss-cross on his bed, his eyes closed as he leaned back against the wall.

"J?"

His eyes immediately shot open as he glanced over at me. That's when I noticed that they were red and puffy, as though he'd been crying.

I dropped my backpack on the floor before climbing up into his bed next to him, sitting criss-cross so that our knees were brushing against one another.

Joel closed his eyes again, letting his head fall back so it was resting against the wall. "I've had a rough couple of days," he informed me, quietly.

"What's going on Joel?"

"I tried getting ahold of Cade but he isn't answering."

"Good to know I'm your second choice then," I teased, knocking my knee against his.

He let out a quiet laugh, but I could tell it wasn't genuine.

"You can talk to me," I encouraged. "You know I'm always here to listen."

Silence stretched between us for a few moments, Joel remaining absolutely still as his chest rapidly rose and feel in an irregular pattern.

"I've just had a rough couple of days," he reiterated, reopening his eyes to glance over at me. "Can we just leave it at that."

I nodded. "Of course."

For now.

"Why don't I make us some dinner?" I suggested. "And then we can watch a few episodes of Baby Daddy while we eat."

Joel began tracing circles on the bed, avoiding eye contact with me. "Yeah, okay. Sure."

"Which season are you on?" I asked, pushing myself off of the bed as I ignored the clear tension in the room. "Please tell me you've gotten to the part where-"

"Season 3, Episode 4. Don't ruin anything for me Sarah or I swear to God."

"You'd have to pray to him first," I sang, getting a glare from Joel as I headed out into the kitchen.

I ended up making spaghetti, something easy when nothing was pre-prepared.

I brought two plates and forks back into Joel's room where he'd already started Baby Daddy, the wet tissue next to him showing that he was a bit distressed.

"You're going to stay for a bit, right?" Joel asked, reluctantly taking the plate from me as I sat down next to him.

"I don't plan on going anywhere."

He slowly twirled his fork around, watching the remainder of the episode before taking a bite.

"Are we going to ignore this?" Danny Wheeler's character asked.

"Yep," Tucker Dobbs answered.

"Are we going to get blamed for this?"

"Yep."

"Are we going to call off the bet and declare me the winner?"

"Nice try," Tucker Dobbs said, causing Joel to crack a smile.

"Are you still hungry?" I asked Joel, as he clicked his fork against his teeth.

His head whipped to face me in surprise.

"I can make you something else?"

He slowly shook his head, clearing his throat.

"Okay. But if you change your mind, I can make you that killer kale smoothie that you like."

"Oh my God, yes, it's my party. Yes, I'm drinking a beer. And yes, I made a sex tape," Piper Stockdale's character said on Baby Daddy. "And yes, you probably didn't need to know that."

Joel's stomach growled, and he cleared his throat once again. "So, uh, kale smoothie you said?"

I flashed him a smile, grabbing both of our plates and heading back out into the kitchen. But I left his bedroom door ajar so I could hear what was happening inside.

Joel, being the health enthusiast he is, had fallen in love with my kale smoothie when I'd made it for him during a health kick of my own during high school. And he'd often bribe me to make it for him.

I brought him back his smoothie, and he silently accepted it.

"Riley is going to blackmail Piper I think. And Bonnie had some revelation I think on how she's going to sell that apartment from hell."

About halfway through the smoothie Joel sat it down next to him, taking the straw and twirling it around.

"Killer right?" I asked, leaning over toward him with a smile.

"Killer is the right word here."

I hated the monotony of his voice, the way he stared at the straw instead of at me or even the Netflix show.

"J please talk to me."

He pressed his hand to his eyes, but not before his shoulders began shaking and I knew he was crying.

I passed him the box of tissues, tracing my fingers down his back as I waited for him to sober up.

"Nobody understands how hard it is," he choked out. "I have these voices in my head that I can never get rid of, an eating disorder than I'm constantly battling. How am I supposed to beat my own mind?" He glanced up at the ceiling, blinking back tears.

"By leaning on us," I said, pulling Joel close to me. I buried my face in the crook of his shoulder. "We're here for you always Joel."

He rested his chin on the top of my head, tears still streaming down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, quietly.

"You don't get to say that right now. Just accept my love and don't spill that smoothie."

He chuckled, picking up the discarded smoothie and resting it on his nightstand.

I heard Joel's front door opening, and I turned to see Caden strolling in.

"How did you get in here?" Joel asked him.

Caden was leaning against the doorway, his chest heaving as though he'd sprinted here.

"Did you really think they were going to keep me out?" Caden demanded, between his wheezing. "Please Joel, have a little faith."

He strode over to where Joel and I were seated, resting his hands on the edge of the bed. "Why am I here?"

"I don't know," Joel declined. "I'm not you."

Caden reached over and paused Baby Daddy, casting us a disgusted look. "Pick a real show."

Joel didn't even crack a smile.

"How many times today Joel?"

I glanced between Caden and Joel in question.

"Cade, please-"

"I'm done bullshitting J. How many?"

Joel pressed his eyes shut in silence.

"Caden," I murmured, shooting him a glare.

"None," Joel mumbled. "That's why I called you and Sarah."

Caden relaxed a bit, his shoulders uncoiling.

"What's going on?" I asked, my fingers trailing up and down Joel's tensed back.

"It's just been a rough few days, I told you," Joel said, quietly.

Caden's face said everything I needed to know.

"Do mom and dad know?" I asked, glancing between the two of them.

"No," Joel snapped, his head whipping around to face mine. "And they're not going to, understand?"

"J, relax," Caden ordered.

"It's not a relapse," Joel said, his voice rising. "This just happens, okay? It just happens."

"We know," Caden said, glancing toward me for support. "Nobody is saying anything different, you are."

Joel's anxiety was something I wasn't used to dealing with, and I felt frozen in the moment.

I could deal with the people I mentored, help them through their fears and anxieties. But it was different when it came to Joel.

Joel was the brother that never got too old for me. He'd let me ride passenger in his rusty old pick-up when his friends were piled up in the back. He was the brother I went to when I had my first heartbreak, the person I went to when I needed a smile or laugh.

And so I needed to muster up and