With my playlist on full blast, I shut out my surroundings. My reality. Homework is a welcoming distraction from the constant pressure. The need to catch whoever is responsible.

Chloe and Brooke privately took their allegations to the police after informing family members. Thankfully, the case is being handled with care and police are treating it as a motive for Chad's death. Someone—whoever the killer is—murdered Chad as a form of punishment. Sienna and Principle Wilson too. The question is, why?

Ping!

A text comes through from Elliot, gaining my attention

Elliot:
Are you busy?
I need your help!!!

Helena:
Nope, not busy.
What's up?

Elliot:
Can you come over?

Helena:
Be there in 5.

I silence my music and fly downstairs, finding Mom in the kitchen. She's on the phone and doesn't notice my arrival.

"You can't keep doing this, Dan."

Dad must need more money.

"Just because I'm good for it doesn't mean I should willingly give it up." She sighs. "We're not together anymore."

I walk through the door, deliberately making a noise as to alert her of my presence.

"Helena's here. D'ya wanna chat?"

I widen my eyes and gesture for her to keep the phone. "I'm going to Elliot's."

Mom puts Dad on speaker.

"Who's Elliot?" he asks. "Boyfriend?"

"No."

He laughs, not buying it. "Mom told me about Penn. That's fantastic! Would've been nice to hear it from you, pumpkin."

"Sorry. I've been preoccupied lately."

"With Elliot?" he teases.

I choose not to reply.

"I'll be a few hours," I inform, gesturing for the car keys.

Mom tosses them from across the table. "Text me when you get there, please."

I nod. "Bye, Dad,"

"Love you."

"Uh-huh."

I practically run to the car and head to Elliot's, happy for the change of scenery. It takes no more than five minutes and upon arriving, I text Mom.

Helena:
Here now.
Still alive.

Momma:
Damn.
Maybe next time? ;)
LY xo

I trek towards the front door and press the bell, hearing nothing upon doing so. Figuring it doesn't work, I try knocking, prompting Elliot to answer within seconds.

"Everything alright?" I ask, immediately noticing his dishevelled appearance.

He nods. "I'm fine." He gestures for me to come in.

I enter what looks to be their living room, though with no T.V or sofa, I can't be sure. The wallpaper is pealing in the corners; stained yellow by nicotine. There's a rug in the middle of the room, faded by the constant stream of sunlight coming in through the curtain-less window.

"Celia isn't."

"Why?"

He lifts his gaze towards the stairs. Towards where I assume her bedroom is.

"She started her period this morning," he informs. "I went to the store to get her everything she needs and to be honest, it all looks confusing."

"What does?"

He grabs a carrier from the small coffee table and empties it out. "This."

Every possible brand of female hygiene item sits in and amongst the pile, alongside a hot water bottle, Tylenol and chocolate.

"I have no idea how to use any of this stuff. You have to help me, Lena. Please!"

By now, he's frantic. Pulling his own hair out in worry.

"Relax. I'll go talk to her," I insist. "This is the kinda conversation you don't want to have with your brother." I gather the things and shoot him a smile. "Which room is hers."

"First door on your right."

"Stay here," I instruct, kind in my saying so.

I make my way towards her bedroom door and knock, receiving nothing in the form of an invitation.

"Celia?"

Again, nothing.

I press forward, finding her in bed, earbuds in. "Hey."

She notices me despite music blasting into her ears and manages a smile, simultaneously sitting up.

"Helena?"

"I hope you don't mind. Elliot called."

She nods, briefly looking to the carrier bag in my hand. "He's freaking out, isn't he?"

"A little bit."

She smiles. "Would you mind walking me through some of the stuff he bought. I'm scared to Google it in case I get a video tutorial."

I laugh. "Of course I don't mind."

I empty the items out onto her mattress.

"Thanks."

I start with the box of tampons. "These aren't for everyone. They can be hard to navigate and a little painful. Especially if you're a Virgin."

She picks up the box and studies it for a moment.

"I don't use them," I offer. "The alternative is sanitary pads. Easy to use. You need to replace them every few hours, depending on how heavy you are."

"Heavy?"

"Hmm. You're usually heaviest mid-cycle. These ones are good for that," I state, picking up the dual protection pack. "And for through the night."

She chews her lip in concentration, a trait she shares with her brother.

"Always get ones with wings, otherwise they get twisted."

"Okay. And what about cramps? I've not had any but I do feel bloated. Is that normal?"

"Yeah. Take Tylenol for cramps. Hot water bottles are great too. I sometimes drink peppermint tea if they're really bad."

She takes her time reading each pack and smiles upon choosing one. "I think I'll use these for now."

"Good choice."

She bags the rest of the items up and shoves them in her closet, no doubt for a later date. I then offer to leave her to her music, though not before adding my number to her contacts. "Call me if you ever need anything."

"Thanks, Helena. I really appreciate your help."

I close her bedroom door and find Elliot where I left him, downstairs.

"Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," I ensure, soothing away the creases in his brow by gliding my fingers across his forehead.

I'm about to say more when the front door suddenly opens and slams shut.

"Elliot?"

He tenses, pulling back.

"Elliot!"

"In here," he informs.

In walks Sarah with a face like sour milk. She clocks me instantly and scowls, her face wrinkling as a result. She's nothing like Elliot with bleach blonde hair and chestnut eyes. Nor does she share any similarities with Celia. A tattoo on her wrist stands out against her pale skin, its shape unlike anything I've ever seen. A symbol of some sort. Perhaps tribal?

"What's she doing here?"

Umm...

"This is Helena," introduces Elliot.

I step forward, attempting a half decent smile.

"I don't care. I don't want your girlfriend in my house."

I keep my mouth shut, not wanting to make things worse for Elliot.

Especially not her. Gallagher's aren't welcome here."

"You know I'm a Gallagher?" I question.

She snarls. "Of course I know. You look exactly like your mother."

Oh.

I don't bother asking if she knows her. It's obvious she does and judging by her reaction, I'd say there's bad blood between them.

"This isn't a free-for-all, Elliot."

"Yeah, I get it," he says.

"I don't expect to come home to this."

"I said I get it, Sarah!" he snaps, gaze furious.

I instinctively move closer to him, silently calming him with my closeness.

"I'm going out," she spits, done with having to look at her nephew. "Make your own dinner."

He waits for the front door to close before launching into a rant about family values and disrespectful behaviour. "I hate how she spoke to you. Why did I let her get away with that?"

"Elliot."

"She's a fucking bitch, Helena. A cold hearted bitch who gets off on embarrassing me. On belittling me. For years, I put up with my Dad's abuse and I promised myself never again."

"It's fine..."

"It's not fine!" he insists, close to tears. "I'm sick of being treated like this. What did I ever do to deserve this? What did I do that was so wrong?"

"Nothing," I ensure. "Absolutely nothing."

"It's not fair. I want my family to love me, Lena. Why don't they love me?"

My heart slams into a brick wall.

"Why am I not enough?"

I press my lips to his in a kiss that I hope speaks to him. It's mortifyingly clumsy. Messy. And nothing prepares me for the onslaught of feelings that pass through me as a result. My stomach twists and my head spins, both of which are truly magnificent.

"You are enough," I state, pulling back.

He rests his forehead against mine.

"Please don't ever doubt that."

He says nothing for the longest time, followed by, "Will you go to prom with me?"

I almost laugh.

"What?"

"I've been wanting to ask you for a while now."

"Why haven't you?"

He shrugs. "Too nervous."

His body is shaking and although I like to think it's from our kiss, I know Sarah is mostly to blame. Stupid, fucking Sarah.

"Of course I'll go with you."

"Really?"

His lack of confidence kills me.

"Yeah. Now, how about we head upstairs for a brainstorming session? Things have gone quiet and I don't want us to slip."

He fumbles around, looking nervous. "You don't have to stay here, Helena. It's a shithole and my Aunt made it pretty clear you're not welcome."

"I don't care about the condition of the house," I state, rather firmly. "It's the guy in it I like. Didn't our kiss prove that?"

"What kiss?"

I stare at him, scared I imagined the whole thing.

"I don't remember you kissing me. Perhaps you need to re-jog my memory."

I shove on his arm and heave a sigh. "You dick!"

"Seriously. I think I need you to kiss me again."

"Nope."

"No?"

He looks wounded.

"Not until we find the killer."

"You drive a heard bargain, Gallagher."

"It'll be worth it," I reply, heading for the stairs. "Now, come on, Evans. This murder won't solve itself."

****

WE HAVE A KISS!

An awkward-as-balls kiss but still...

💋💋💋