19. Chapter 19

Chapter 1 9

Lacey

I tried and failed to carry Skylar back to his room.

To be fair, his slender frame is a lot heavier than it looks. It took less than two minutes for my arms to give out and for us both to go crashing to the floor. It was pathetic on all accounts, but the worst part was going to find someone to help.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" Vector glares at me before bending down to pick up his brother's unconscious body.

I glare back at him, the earlier taunts not forgotten, "He's been dealing with a lot lately."

"Apparently."

Shaking his head, Vector lifts Skylar off the ground and cradles him against his chest. I stare at the arm muscles flexing with the movement, the abnormal size difference screamingly obvious now that I know the truth .

It all makes sense now. The inflated muscles, the disfigured jaw, the irritated skin. If you know what to look for, Vector's steroid use seems like the most obvious thing in the world.

I sneak a glance at the cabinet sink holding his dirty secret. Returning the drugs to their hiding spot seemed like the right thing to do even though a part of me wanted to interrogate him. Ask why he would willingly take a drug that makes it impossible to control his temper. Why he would risk his varsity career just to be the biggest player on the field.

But in the end, I decided against it. Vector is allowed to have secrets, just as he is allowed to choose who to share them with.

Hurrying ahead to open Skylar's bedroom door, I wait until Vector has passed to slip inside. I watch as he gently lowers his brother onto the bed, his touch surprisingly tender as he pulls the bedsheets over his brother's small frame.

It hits me then, that it would be easy to hate Vector Vin.

The bully who can't control his temper, the lacrosse player who puts his opponents in the hospital, he's the perfect villain until you peer past the mask. Until you see the son who started taking testosterone supplements to protect his mom. The older brother who uses his strength to protect his younger one.

Then suddenly it doesn't become so easy after all.

"Do you need a ride home?" Vector glances at me before looking down at his sleeping brother, "I don't think he's up for the drive."

"No. I'm going to stay. "

"He's not a fighter, you know. Never has been and never will be."

I frown, "Who said I want a fighter?"

"Your books do." Vector lifts a brow, pointing to the romance novel sitting on Skylar's desk, "Don't fool yourself into thinking he's a fictional character who will change for his true love. He's not some scarred hero you can fix."

Anger bubbles up inside me, fuelling a sudden need to confront the man who made too many assumptions about me tonight.

"Skylar doesn't need to be fixed. He's my friend, not my hero." I blow out a breath, unused to the bold adrenalin coursing through my veins, "And I don't appreciate the comments you made at the dinner table. You know nothing about me or my life, so don't go throwing statements out that are based on nothing except superficial features. It's rude and unbecoming."

My heart is pounding as I wait for his reaction.

His face breaks into a smile as a chuckle slips out, "Now I see why he's so fond of you. Looks like you might be the fighter in this relationship."

"Just because he's small doesn't mean he's weak. Skylar is stronger than you give him credit for."

"Maybe." Vector closes the distance between us with a few strides. Even with my height, I have to tilt my head back to look at him .

"We have a rule here in Silverwood. A rule that I implemented when it became clear Sky would never hurt another person. Not even to defend himself."

I swallow drily, feeling my anxiety spike as he trails his eyes down my body. I'm used to having wandering eyes on me, but that isn't what this is.

This is a predator deciding which spot to attack first.

His eyes flick back to my face, a quiet anger simmering just beneath the surface.

"Break him and I will break you."

"Are you threatening me?"

He smiles then, a smile that does nothing to stop the fear from racing through me.

"It's not a threat. It's a promise."

I've seen firsthand just how many promises Vector has broken, but there is no doubt in my mind this is one he will see through.

"I'm not going to hurt him."

"We'll see." Vector brushes past me but pauses at the door, "Oh, and do me a favour. Don't leave him crippled on the floor next time."

He shuts the bedroom door before I can respond.

God. I think he's worse than my roommate.

Blowing out a breath, I walk over to check on Skylar's unconscious form. His face is pressed against the pillow, the tension drained from his features as sleep chases away the demons of today .

He normally sleeps in just his underwear, so I quickly tug off his jeans and carefully remove his shirt. He doesn't stir when I slide my hand across his chest, feeling the reassuring beat of his heart.

"It's okay, Skylar. You're safe now."

I whisper the promise before shedding my clothes and pulling on his discarded shirt. Sliding under the covers, I snuggle up beside him and let the warmth of his body soothe the anxiety from my mind.

It was a hell of a night, but Vector was right about one thing.

I will always fight for Skylar.

Skylar

She stayed.

My heart feels full as I drag my eyes over Lacey's sleeping frame, watching the way her chest falls with each breath. Dark curls cover half of my pillow as well as her own, and I can't help but touch a strand just to make sure she's real.

I can't believe she stayed.

Closing my eyes against the memories of last night's train wreck, I'm willing myself to fall back asleep when something wet presses against my nose. It happens again and the giggles that follow suit have my face breaking into a smile.

"Are you having fun?"

I open my eyes just in time to see Lacey try and lick my nose for a third time. She shrieks, pulling her tongue back into her mouth .

"You weren't supposed to see that."

"Uh huh."

Before she can blink, I lean forward and lick her lips. A loud gasp fills my room as big green eyes accuse me of initiating the game in the first place.

"You can only do it when the person is sleeping! It doesn't count if I can see you."

"There are rules?"

She smiles, "Of course. If the other person catches you, you lose by default."

I lean forward and lick her lips again.

"Skylar! I just told you that's how you lose." Her scolding tone breaks off in a laugh when I try and do it again, "What are you doing? The game is over."

My chest feels impossibly light when I look at her, the crinkles around her eyes putting the same ones in my heart.

"I wanted to taste your smile."

"You're such a weirdo."

She's smiling when she says it, and unlike the other times I've been called that, it sounds like something positive. Like maybe she likes my peculiar parts.

Maybe she loves them.

I stare at the girl lying beside me, the girl who told me she loved me. She said it after I spent thirty minutes crying out years' worth of guilt and grief over my brother's drug use. It's the last thing I remember before blacking out and that fact alone confirms the one thing I know about myself .

I am fucking pathetic.

"Flower." I swallow, wishing I had anything more to offer this girl than baggage, "I'm sorry about last night. From the comments Vector made to the way I broke down in the bathroom… I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of that."

She frowns, reaching over and bopping my nose, "We have a rule about apologizing. Don't go breaking it now."

"You deserve better."

"No, Skylar. You deserve better." A soft sigh escapes her, "You can't love someone else if you don't love yourself. It just doesn't work that way."

Shame has me breaking eye contact and looking down at my duvet.

"It's not that I don't love myself. It's just hard to look in the mirror sometimes."

"I know. But those are the days when you have to see someone else. You have to look past your own reflection and see the person you are getting out of bed for. The person you are choosing to live for."

She blows out a breath, "After the incident, I had to learn how to stop seeking ways to leave this world and start searching for ways to live in it. It took me a while but eventually I found a new appreciation through silly little things and it was enough to keep me going."

"Is that when your plant collection started?"

She nods, "And my romance addiction. As ridiculous as it sounds, I found peace in the predictable endings. In the simple routine of taking care of my plant babies. It doesn't have to be some great passion that pulls you out of the darkness. Sometimes all it takes is one friend who helps you forget about the scars lining the inside of your skin."

"Who was it for you?"

"Nico."

I glance at her in surprise and she lets out a laugh, "He made me this friendship bracelet when we were kids, told me to keep it until he could save up enough money to buy me a promise ring. This was before he knew he liked men, of course."

Lacey shakes her head with a smile, "None of the colours matched and most of the letters were different sizes, but it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was my most cherished possession until I lost it a few years later. I was so devastated that Nico bought me a new one as a replacement, but it just wasn't the same."

She pauses, staring at my ceiling like it might take her back to a different time.

"I ended up finding it two days after I tried to commit suicide. I hadn't seen it for seven years and it turned up 48 hours after I tried to leave my best friend behind."

There's an ache in her voice, the unbearable weight of regret filling each word. All I can do is look at her, look and see the strength of a survivor who chooses to get out of bed every day.

"Do you still have it? "

She nods, "I keep it in the pill bottle that almost killed me. It serves as a reminder of just how much I stand to lose if I choose to stop loving myself."

Gentle fingers run through my hair, pushing the strands back from my forehead. Lacey looks at me with eyes shining with grief and regret, but even in the darkness, a glimmer of hope remains.

"You deserve to be happy, Skylar. You deserve to be happy with me."

I stare back at her, clinging to that sliver of light in her eyes.

Since that very first message, this girl helped bring back the colours I stopped seeing. She became the light in a world gone grey, and with every correspondence, she slowly glued my broken pieces back together.

She helped me forget about the scars lining the inside of my skin.

"I love you, Flower." I whisper, trying not to break down into tears again, "I always have and I always will."

"I know." Lacey smiles, that same smile that stitched mine back together, "But now it's time to learn to love Skylar. He's pretty fucking awesome but sometimes he forgets that."

An unexpected laugh rips from my chest.

"I'll work on it."

"Nope. Not good enough." She grins, pressing a kiss to my cheek before sliding out of bed. I turn and watch her creep over to my desk.

"Are you wearing my shirt? "

A blush stains her cheeks as she snatches up my sketchbook and scurries over to jump back under the covers. Her long legs brush against mine as she awkwardly fumbles back into bed.

"I didn't want to be uncomfortable in my clothes. I hope you don't mind."

Her choice of words make me pause.

Turning over, I peer over the edge of the bed and spy the pile of discarded clothes on my floor. It doesn't take me long to spot the floral panties peeking out from the crumpled skinny jeans. I let out a quiet groan, replaying the image of my shirt brushing the top of her thighs.

"You shouldn't have told me that."

"Are you mad?"

"No." I blow out a breath, trying to keep my morning wood from becoming a real one, "My shirt fits you perfectly."

"You fit me perfectly."

Before I can react, Lacey steals my pillow and uses it to prop herself up. My head falls flat against the mattress but I'm too busy staring at the loose material covering her naked body to notice.

I want to peek so badly.

"Here you go." She thrusts the sketchbook at me and I take it, trying to tear my gaze away from the teasing outline of her breasts.

"What am I doing? "

"Art charades." She grins, tugging my arm until I'm sitting up beside her, "I'm going to describe something and you have to draw it."

"Do I get a hint of what it's supposed to look like?"

"Of course not. That would ruin the game."

A huff of laughter slips out as I unclip the mechanical pencil from my sketchbook. Turning to a fresh page, I give her a nod of approval.

"Ready."

"Okay, let's start with two circles."

I start to draw, letting my pencil spoil the clean surface of the paper.

"One is dark, the other is light. Shade in the dark one to be textured, like it's an endless number of layers that could go on forever. The other one should be bright, like how it feels when the sun finally escapes the clouds."

"How big are these circles?"

Lacey purses her lips, "Not big. Like a couple of quarters, maybe?"

I adjust accordingly and wait for the next round of instructions.

"Okay. So, these two circles are inside a bigger one." She forms the shape with her hands, "Like this, but bigger. A little sharper too."

I stare back at her, deadpan, "You want me to draw a sharp circle."

She laughs, "That's right. Don't question my logic. "

"Okay."

We keep going for an indefinite amount of time, Lacey's specific descriptions making it easy to follow along. Eventually she peeks over at my progress and claps in excitement.

"We're almost there! Okay, this is the most important part. I want you to draw two orange slices tilted upward… No. More curved. Picture a crescent moon, but one that's sideways."

I frown, staring at the paper in front of me. The dismantled parts had me confused but now I'm starting to see the connection. Erasing the curved surface of the so-called orange peels, I pull the corners up and connect the two halves to make a pair of smiling lips.

"That's it! Now, draw a speech bubble and I'll add the final part."

Dutifully, I hand over my sketchbook and watch Lacey scribble a sentence down. By the time she passes it back, there's a satisfied gleam in her eyes.

"Now you have a reminder too."

I look down and read her handwriting.

I'm something special.

My heart starts to pound as I stare at the familiar slant of her calligraphy, the familiar sound of her words.

"You got me to draw myself."

I stare at the mismatched circles that are supposed to be my eyes. Lacey's description made them seem like two sides of the same coin, the opposition of each one bringing out the beauty in the other. The sharp circle is supposed to be the edges of my face, the hard lines of my cheekbones cutting through the page where a couple of orange slices smile back at me.

I look happy. I look loved.

"Now you can see how I see you." She nudges me gently, "A beautiful combination of pieces that make up the boy I love."

A swell of emotions rush to the surface as my heart cracks right open. Blinking hard against the surge of tears, I can only stare as the image in front of me melts into an indistinguishable web of lines and pencil marks.

"I-I'm something special."

Lacey reaches over and takes my hand. She squeezes my fingers with the same amount of love as the picture she got me to draw.

"That's right, Skylar. And this time don't forget it."