The drive home is dead silent. My emotions are being held together by a single thread, and I'm afraid I'll lose it all over again if I say anything. We both stare straight ahead at the road. I feel weighed down by my problems, and I hate myself for putting this on Grayson.

He shouldn't have to worry about me, but I know he is.

His tender words weigh heavy on my mind, confusing me even more. They're tiny sparks of light in the darkness of my thoughts. But feeling the truth and accuracy of his words only reminds me that Gray has his own demons that threaten to drag him under.

I say none of this, of course.

When we pull in front of my house, neither of us move. The air is thick with unspoken words, and I can feel both of us itching to just let it all out.

"I wish we could've stayed longer," Grayson says, cutting through the silence. "But Gracie's with my aunt and I don't want--"

"Gray," I stop him. "It's okay. You don't have to explain yourself."

He runs his hand through his hair, something I've noticed he does when he's nervous. "Yeah, I kind of do, Riv. I can't let you..."

His fists are balled on the steering wheel, and he fails to find the right words. I save him from his internal struggle. "I'm fine, I promise. Don't worry about me."

I kiss him on the cheek, trying to keep him from worrying anymore. He grabs my hand before I can open the door.

"River." I turn back to him, already feeling tears well up. I can't do this right now.

"I'm right here. Remember what I said because I meant every single thing that came out of my mouth." He's looking right through me, looking almost as pained as I feel. I feel a single tear run down my cheek and I just nod feebly at him.

I tear myself from the car and take my bag from the trunk. Then I run inside, unable to look back at him. I don't hear his car leave until the front door closes behind me.

I let out a breath too soon. Sitting in our formal living room, with their hands folded, are my parents. They're staring at me with straight mouths.

"You know we're not stupid. Right, honey?" My mother says, tucking a perfect curl behind her ear.

"The tracker on your phone has been very useful. We know where you've been," my father says threateningly. I hardly feel afraid. "You think you're so much smarter than us, don't you? Going on about all your achievements, how much we don't care about you. Well, River, we gave you the benefit of the doubt but after--"

"Then we figure out that you've spent the night with some boy like a slut," my mother cuts in, screaming. "What do you expect us to do? What are we supposed to do with a daughter like you, who whores around, trying to destroy our reputations?"

I just stare at them, unfazed. It's almost comical at this point.

"So you know what I've been doing?"

My mom nods, as if she's winning this battle. "We know everything, River."

"Great. So I don't have to fill you in," I say. Then I run upstairs, not bothering to relish the frustrated looks on their faces.

"Don't come crying to us when your little shenanigans get you pregnant!" My father yells after me, trying in vain to tip me over the edge. "We won't put up with your shit much longer, River! RIVER!"

I slam my door closed and flop onto my bed, numbing myself to everything. Slowly, I strip my clothes off and swaddle myself in my comforter, creating a protective layer between me and the outside world.

I shut my eyes and let the world fade away. At least when I sleep, the darkness can't find me.

♔     ♕     ♔

The doorbell wakes me up. Anticipating one of my parents rushing to open the door, I ignore the doorbell and flip over, trying to tune the world back out. But it rings again. And again. Then they resort to knocking on the door, hard. My parents must not be home.

I want to scream. I rip my cocoon off of me, not knowing what time it is, only feeling disoriented. After throwing on a tank top and pajama shorts, I stomp down stairs and to the door. I can't even imagine how bad I look.

I open the door, expecting to see one of my parents' stupid, pretentious friends. Instead, a young delivery man stands before me, stunned by my aggressive attitude. His eyes scan up and down my body, and I remember I didn't put on a bra. His eyes eventually land on my scowled face, and he nervously juts a clipboard out to me.

I take the stupid clipboard and catch a glimpse of the stupid date at the top. Monday. My eyes shoot to the time slots and I realize it's Monday afternoon. I slept for more than 24 hours. On top of that, I missed an entire school day.

My head starts spinning, and I quickly sign the sheet. The delivery man then picks up a box from behind him, shaped like a very fat paper towel roll. With wary hands, I take the light-pink box and thank the man. He practically runs back to his truck.

I take the box inside and set it on my dining room table, examining the delicate red bow tied around it. The whole thing is beautiful. My first thought is that the delivery guy, in his nervous haste, got the wrong address. But stuck to the bow is a tiny, creme-colored card with my name written in boyish handwriting.

Grayson.

A feel a mix of surprised and excited, as I pop the lid of the box off and find red petals staring back up at me. At least a hundred roses, placed delicately into this box, fill my heart with warmth. It's one the most gorgeous things I've ever received. They smell amazing.

Then I see a small card tucked into the side, begging me to pick it up. I do, tracing my fingertips over the thick, creamy paper. On the same side, I find more of the boyish handwriting.

"Light is easy to love.
Show me your darkness."
- R. Queen

I resist the urge to cry again, flipping the card over to hide the words. To my surprise, there are also words scrawled on the other side.

Nothing you say would ever keep me away from you.
- Gray.

His own words, echoing the same words I said to him a few nights ago, resonate deeply. My heart pounds loudly at the thought of him going through all this trouble just to send me this message. I feel how much he cares for me, just through this small card.

I bring the flowers up to my room, admiring their simple beauty on the way up. I place them next to my bed, taking the note into my hand. After reading the words over and over, committing them to memory, I slip the card under my pillow.

I smile, feeling the urge to take the card back out and read the words a thousand more times.

Instead, I call my school. Putting on my best motherly voice, I inform the school that I am out sick with the flu, and that I will probably need the whole week to recover. After going through a few polite formalities, the office lady excuses my daughter's (my own) absences and gives my daughter (myself) her best wishes. It's almost too easy.

I check my phone, replying to all Violet's and Peyton's messages with the same text. I'm fine, just feeling a bit down. Could one of you cover my soccer practice today?

School should get out in less than an hour, so I have a while until they bombard me with questions. My fingers are itching to text Gray, to thank him for the present, but it feels insignificant compared to what he did for me. I want to do something for him.

Before I can second-guess myself, I get dressed and drive to the mall. I buy a present for Gray, along with a nice, indigo box to put it in. At an overpriced stationary store, I buy the nicest card I can find.

In my car, I put the air conditioning on blast and write a note to put in the box. To feel inspired, I play sad, romantic songs through my radio and write purely from my heart. After at least an hour of overthinking and writing, I finally close the present and drive to Gray's penthouse.

Because I'm a pussy, I leave the box with his doorman with specific instructions to wait until I'm gone before he sends the present up.

Then I swallow my pride and speed back home, trying to not let my nerves get the best of me.

To my surprise, a car is waiting for me in the driveway. Not my parents'. Not Gray's. Violet's.

"I should have known," I say as I exit my car. They're both leaned up against Violet's car, still in their school clothes. Violet is wearing large black sweater and a black-and-white plaid skirt. Her hair is in spacebuns. Peyton is wearing an oversized t-shirt from a soccer camp, dark green track shorts, and Vans. They both look like they've been waiting for a while.

Violet tucks a stray strand of her black hair behind her ear. "You must be out of your mind if you think we didn't see right through your little "I'm fine" text message."

"I had an interesting weekend," I reply, walking up to my front door. They follow me, as I expected. Even though I wanted to be alone tonight, their silent support is nice.

Violet slides up and sits on my kitchen island. Peyton starts digging in my pantry, probably looking for a chocolate pudding cup.

I say lazily, "So how was school?"

"Amazing," Violet sighs. "According to Trevor, you and him have slept together. Several times."

I don't even have the energy to care. Fuck that dude. Should've never given him my homework. "Maybe we did sleep together. Maybe he has a huge dick."

"I find it hard to believe either of those statements, Riv," Peyton says from the depths of my pantry. I hear the crinkling of snack wrappers. "Where the fuck are those tasty pudding cups?"

"Up your ass," I answer, getting a glass of water.

"I have a big dick, in case either of you were wondering," Violet chimes. Peyton and I both ignore her.

We stand silently in the kitchen for a few minutes. Violet redos one of her buns. Peyton finally finds the chocolate pudding and begins to stuff her face.

The words come falling out before I can stop them. "I think I'm falling in love with Grayson."

The two of them stare at me, processing what the bomb I just dropped. "You think or you know?" Peyton finally asks.

I think of the note lying under my pillow and the beautiful box of flowers. I think of the way he's pulled me back from the deep pits of my mind, and I remember the way he kisses me as if he's a dying man taking a drink of water. I think of his eyes.

"I know," I say. And I know that I know.

"Well this means one of two things." Violet hops off the counter. "We either have to kill him. Or you have to let us meet him."

"You have met him. At practice that one time."

"You know fully well we didn't really meet him. Violet was too busy shitting herself and I was...also too busy shitting myself," Peyton justifies. "We need to sit down and talk with this bitch."

"He's not a bitch," I say into my lap. Violet giggles.

"You get what I'm saying, Riv." Peyton throws away the empty cup, wiping her hands off on her t-shirt. I spot a little pudding on the side of her mouth.

"Saving some of that pudding for later, Pey?" I gesture the stain on her lip.

Peyton reaches up and feels the clump of pudding. "Actually, I was. You know my parents don't let me eat this shit." She wipes the excess pudding off, places her finger in her mouth, and smacks her lips dramatically toward me. I fake gag.

"Maybe when we meet Grayson, Peyton could bring along her new friend," Violet says pointedly, looking suspiciously at Peyton. "Right, Pey?"

Peyton just turns red in the face, not saying anything.

Violet sighs. "Come on. I know you have someone. Why won't you just tell us who it is? Is it Ryan from fifth period? He's...okay looking! I promise I won't judge!"

I make eye-contact with Peyton, sensing her nerves. Neither of us speak up, letting Violet spew her predictions about who Peyton's mystery 'man' is. I'd laugh if I didn't see the panicked look in Peyton's eyes. I can tell she wants to hang onto her secret for a bit longer.

"She'll tell us when she's ready," I say gently to Violet. Violet has given up guessing and has resolved to sulking against the counter.

"Her name is Sadie," Peyton blurts. "She goes to Ridgecrest and she plays flag football and I really like her. It's been five weeks."

Violet is taken back, before her eyes widen and she starts jumping up and down. Her space buns are falling out, but she doesn't seem to care. She's a tornado of cheers and claps. "Holy shit, Peyton! Holy fucking shit! I'm so happy for you!"

Peyton shyly accepts an energetic hug from Violet, careful to not get knocked over. "Thaaaaaanks."

My phone dings on the counter, telling me I have a new text message. I try to ignore it, although I know it's Grayson and my hands want so badly to see what he said. I focus on Peyton and Violet.

"So, naturally, we have to meet this Sadie girl eventually. It's only fair," I say, giving Peyton a teasing look. She crinkles her nose, and I know she wants to kill me.

"Double date!" Violet squeals. "I'll invite Mr. Dillard and it'll be a triple date! Woah."

I roll my eyes. "Violet, hop off Mr. Dillard's dick already. You could do so much better than him. He's old and wears a motherfucking toupee."

Violet flips her hair. "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she says, with a hint of sadness in her voice. Now that I think of it, Violet hasn't had a boyfriend in quite some time. Looking at her slightly wistful face and thinking of all the times she's joking about her singularity, it all seems to make sense.

Holy shit, I'm the worst friend ever. I've never even cared to notice this about Violet before. Fuck me.

I change the subject back to Peyton to take the spotlight off Violet and her lack of a significant other. "So, show us this girl of yours, Pey. I've always pictured you with a hot brunette, but I could see you with a cute blonde. What do you think, Vi?"

Violet thinks for a second, twirling her loose hair around her finger. "My money is on a hot brunette. With tattoos. And hot, rippling muscles. Oh, hell yes." She almost growls out the last part. Something tells me that her prediction isn't for Peyton.

Peyton sighs at us and brings out her phone, acting like this is the last thing she wants to be doing. But as she pulls out her phone, I can see a beautiful spark in her eyes, a certain clearness from thinking about Sadie. I'm reminded of the way Grayson looks at me, and the way my own mind lightens when I'm around him.

Only one day since seeing Gray, and I'm already missing him.

We gather around Peyton's phone as she pulls up Sadie's Instagram. Peyton pulls up a picture of a pretty blonde-haired girl with a puppy. Her voice takes on a certain happy lilt when she starts talking about her girlfriend.

"So this is her looking super cute at the animal shelter she works at..."