30

I woke up with a migraine on Saturday, like I knew I would. I dreaded October 12th every year, and I wanted to just crawl back into bed. Instead, I facetimed Sierra.

"Morning!" She greeted me. She was trying to be chipper, but I could tell that she was down, too.

"I want to go back to bed." She gave me a sad smile, knowing that it was going to be a rough day for me. I groaned, burying my face in my pillow.

"Lexi," she said softly, waiting for me to look at her before she continued. "No one is going to expect you to do anything today. It's the beginning of Founder's Day weekend. I bet everyone else is still asleep. Or, drunk," she shrugged.

Both our schools celebrated Founder's Day on the second Monday in October. I'd been looking forward to relaxing over the long weekend, but I saw that quickly slipping away.

"I need to do Spanish and Chemistry homework," I said, sitting up. "And, I'm so behind on my reading. My paper on The Outsiders is due on Tuesday, and I haven't even started it yet. And, I'm supposed to go to that ADB party on the lake with Luisa tonight."

"You've read that book a million times. Your paper can literally write itself. Oh, don't glare at me, you know I'm right."

"How are things with Tyeshia?" I asked her, intentionally changing the subject. I started flipping through The Outsiders, trying to see how long I could get away with tuning her out. A cool breeze came in through my open window and I snuggled down in my bed more to prevent the cold.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Hmm?" I closed the book and looked back at Sierra.

"You and that book." She shook her head. "I'll never understand the fascination."

"This –" I held up my worn, beat-up copy. " – is absolute gold. And, The Old Man and the Sea was a lot better than I was expecting it to be."

"I told you it was good. I sure hope your boyfriend likes books. Then, maybe—"

"Not my boyfriend," I interrupted. "I'm supposed to hang out with him before I go to that party with Luisa, but I really don't want to do that either."

Her expression softened. "Worry about yourself today. Take some ibuprofen, drink something with caffeine, eat something, and go back to bed. Your homework and books will still be there tomorrow. I'm sure Luisa will understand if you can't make it tonight. You can hunt Tyler down tomorrow, too." I nodded. "I'll text you later."

I sent a quick text to Luisa telling her that I was probably not going to be able to make it to the party that night. She said it was fine, and she was going to see if her roommate wanted to go with her.

I was about halfway through The Outsiders and my second soda of the day, laying on my futon when Tyler called me. He'd never called me before. I was so surprised, I stared at the screen for so long I ended up missing the call. He immediately called back.

"Are you home?" he asked as soon as I picked up. I realized that I'd never heard his voice before. I noticed an accent, but my head was pounding too hard to try to place it.

"Mhm. I'm not planning on going anywhere this weekend." I forced myself to finish the bottle of water that I'd started earlier.

"Does your offer still stand?" He had a note of something I couldn't place in his voice. Sadness? Panic?

What offer? The only thing I'd remember telling him was to crash here when Cameron's girlfriend was staying over, but I distinctly remembered him saying that they were going to be gone this weekend.

He obviously picked up on my hesitation. "I don't…I don't know that it's safe for me to be alone today." Then, he added in a whisper. "Please."

"Of course," I quickly responded, my heart in my throat. A million bad scenarios started playing in my head.

"Give me twenty minutes," he said and hung up the phone.

I quickly showered and had just opened the door when he arrived. He handed me his guitar case without a word, dropped his backpack and duffel and slumped to the floor against the wall with his head in his hands. He was taking really shaky breaths.

"Sweetie," I whispered, closing my door. "Talk to me."

I knelt down, placing myself between his knees, so my eyes were level with his. I tried to pull his hands away from his eyes, but he resisted. He shook his head.

"I can't."

I took a deep breath. My pounding head was not helping me right now, but helping Tyler was more important.

"Look at me," I insisted quietly, gently pulling on his hands again. He did, and I saw such pain and desolation in his eyes that it broke my heart.

"I can't," he repeated as a tear rolled down his cheek.

I wiped the tear away with my thumb. "Let me help you."

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. "That's why I'm here."

"Let's go sit down," I said, standing and offering my hand. He took it, stood, and I pulled him into a hug. He hugged me back and held on tight.

"You're the only one I have here," he whispered into my hair. "Thank you for being here."

After several shaky breaths, he let me go. He sat on the futon and held a pillow to his chest, just staring straight ahead. I rubbed my head and squinted my eyes as I had a flash of pain. I eased myself down next to him, brushing my shoulder with his.

"You know you'll feel better if you just let it out," I said, leaning my head against the wall and closing my eyes.

"No, I'll feel worse," he disagreed. "The headache that comes after crying is worse than what I'm feeling right now."

"Well then, we can have horrible headaches together," I blurted.

I felt him turn to look at me but didn't open my eyes.

"Tyler," I whispered, "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer. When I looked up at him, I saw tears in his green eyes. "I don't think I've been okay for a long time."

"What do you need me to do?"

He shrugged.

I turned, so I was completely facing him, slamming my eyes closed because of the pain in my head.

"You need to take care of yourself before you can help me," he said, putting one hand on my waist and the other on my cheek.

I started focusing on his voice, trying to place his accent. I thought about it too hard, making my headache worse.

Why do I always do this? Why do I try to ride these headaches out instead of just taking something right away?

I knew why.

I slowly got up and grabbed a bottle of water from my mini fridge and the bottle of ibuprofen from my desk.

"Is it okay if I call you ‘Ali'?" he asked me quietly as I took two tablets and drank some of the water. I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't explain.

I nodded slowly then sat next to him, resting my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes. After a few minutes, the pain started to subside, and my mind started to wander.

I knew I wasn't in the best shape to help Tyler the way he needed. I also knew that I was probably more qualified than most, I just didn't know how much information I could trust him with.

"I don't like taking medicine for my headaches." I leaned forward, picked up a pillow, and put it between my head and his shoulder. "I took way too many one time, and it was…almost really bad."

I opened my eyes to see him watching me.

"It was on purpose," I whispered, keeping eye contact. His expression softened, and the tears in his eyes returned.

"Come here," he whispered, patting his chest. He gently pulled me onto his lap, wrapping his arms around my waist, and I rested my ear against his chest.

He took a shuddering breath and then reached for the box of tissues that was on my windowsill, setting it down next on the futon next to us. I heard him shake a few tablets out of the bottle and wash them down with water.

"You know I trust you, right?" he whispered.

I gently nodded, and he resumed holding me, more tightly than before.

"I want to tell you the truth. All of it. I just…I don't know if I can." His voice cracked, and he sniffled.

"You're not under any obligation to tell me anything," I said softly, rubbing his arm. "I just want you to be comfortable with me."

"I am."

After he stopped crying, we were both quiet for a very long time.

"How's your head, Ali?"

Ali. I love the way it sounds when he says it.

"Getting better. How's yours?"

"Better than I was expecting."

I was so close to figuring out his accent. It wasn't German, French, or Spanish, but it was definitely European. British? That didn't feel quite right. He'd never given me any hints or clues, but I didn't want to ask him directly.

I stood up to stretch and look out the window at the leaves that were beginning to fall. I finished the bottle of water and turned to see Tyler laying on the futon looking at my framed picture of Sierra and Tyeshia.

"Sierra and Tyeshia?" He asked, taking the frame from the top of the mini fridge for a closer look.

I nodded, taking my glasses off. I sat next to him on the futon, willing the rest of my headache to go away.

"You can tell they're happy together."

I set my glasses down, then turned to lay down next to him. I'd seen the picture every day for almost two years, but I took the chance to actually look at it. Sierra sat in the rocking chair on our porch, her brown hair curled and falling down to her waist. Tyeshia stood behind the rocking chair with her arms around Sierra's shoulders, kissing her cheek.

"They are. They're so good for each other."

The sleepiness that always hit me after a migraine was starting to set in. I scooted closer to Tyler and rested my head against his chest. He started rubbing the back of my head, and I fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke up with a jolt. It took me a minute to remember where I was.

"What time is it?" I mumbled.

"Nearly five o'clock," Tyler answered.

I scrambled to get up, pushing off his chest and almost falling off of the bed. His arm tightened around my waist, saving me from falling to the floor. He gasped and coughed once as I pushed on his chest.

"Sorry," I blushed as my stomach growled loudly.

He nodded, releasing me as I stood on the floor.

"I've been wanting to try The Spot for a while. What kind of pizza do you want?" he asked.

I shook my head, and he handed me my glasses. "I don't feel like walking that far. Let's just go to the dining hall."

"They deliver to the dorms, and I'm ordering pizza whether you want any or not. Pepperoni?"

I raised my eyebrows.

He sighed. "You know I'll win this staring contest, darling."

"Pepperoni is fine," I said. "Breadsticks?"

"You got it." He finished ordering on the website and said, "It should be here in half an hour."

"How do you feel about Mario Kart while we wait?" I asked.

"I like a challenge," he chuckled as I powered on my N64.

I laughed. "This will definitely not be a challenge for you. I'm probably the worst Mario Kart player to walk the Earth."

"I highly doubt that," he said as I handed him his controller.

He soon learned how wrong he was. I couldn't stay on the track and kept getting hit by shells and lightning from other players.

"Ali," he laughed during our second game, "I'm going to lap you."

"It's your own fault for doubting me. I tried to warn you."

He paused the game to check a notification on his phone. "Pizza's here!" He got up and reached for his wallet. He swatted my hand away.

"I'll be right back. I told you, pizza's on me."

The smell of pepperoni and cheese filled my room as I was clearing off my desk. Tyler walked in through my open door, placed the pizzas on the desk, and handed me the bottle of Sprite. I filled two cups, and we sat on the floor and started eating.

"I'm sorry I've been ignoring you lately," he said, closing my door. "I haven't been in the best mental headspace lately, and I needed some time to figure things out."

"Ty —"

"Let me finish. You are the most incredible person that I have ever met. You've been nothing but kind to me, even when I ignored you. I've never properly thanked you for that. The last month with you has been… amazing. It was the most fun I've had in a very long time, and I was glad that it was with you. Ali, I think you know that there's more between us than just being friends."

I nodded. "I've thought that for a while."

"I just can't go down that road right now. I'm not in a place where I'd be able to be the official boyfriend someone like you deserves."

I took his hand in both of mine and squeezed. "So, we'll just leave things the way they are. I don't want to rush into anything. We can just take it slow."

He took a deep breath. "Tonight is about honesty. I will tell you anything that you want to know."

"Where are you from?" It wasn't the question that I'd expected to ask him, but it seemed like a good place to start.

He looked very surprised for a second. When he finally replied, he stood and collected the trash from our meal. "California."

"You are not!" I jumped up, astounded. His accent was most definitely European. I'd spent time in California. There was no way he was from California.

"Do you want to see my driver's license?" He asked, sitting back on the futon.

"I'd rather see your birth certificate," I mumbled.

"Where do you think I'm from?"

I stood up and grabbed our history book and opened to a world map. I sat on the futon next to him and leaned against his shoulder.

"So, are you going to tell me where you're really from?"

He smiled and wrapped one of my curls around his finger. "It's definitely in there somewhere."

"You're such a pain." I flipped the pages to Europe and gestured to the entire page.

"Yes, I indeed was born in Europe." He laid his other arm over my waist.

"Care to be more specific?"

"Not Eastern."

"Yes, darling, because Eastern Europe is mostly Russia."

I started listing off countries I didn't think he was from, and, at the end, I was left with Scandinavia and the British Isles.

"You can't just tell me?" I jokingly begged.

"I suppose I could, but this is much more fun. You should have been better at geography."

"How rude!" I turned to mock glare at him. He smiled at me, his eyes sparkling. He was enjoying this more than I was, for sure.

I turned back, closed my eyes, and picked a place on the page.

He made a noise in his throat. "Try again."

Keeping my eyes closed, I tried two more times before he chuckled and said, "Bingo."

I opened my eyes and saw my finger covering the majority of Ireland.

That makes so much sense.

He moved my hand out of the way and didn't let go of it. "That's actually pretty close to where I grew up."

"So, how did you end up at NFSU? If you're really from California –" I glanced up at him, and he nodded, "– why would you want to come to Colorado?"

"Short story, the pre-vet program is good, and I wanted to get away from my grandmother."

"You know that I don't have anything else to do tonight."

He slightly adjusted, getting more comfortable and tightening his arm around my waist. He kept wrapping my hair around his finger and letting it go. I leaned back fully against his shoulder.

"I was born in Ireland. My sister, Siobhan, was born when I was four. My mom was originally from California and met my dad when she was studying abroad in college. She fell in love with it and my dad, and she never left. My grandmother was so upset, she didn't talk to my mom for years after she moved across the pond. I'd actually never met her until my parents died."

"Tyler," I whispered, heartbroken for him.

"It's okay, darling. It was a car accident. They were coming back from buying me a new guitar, and my aunt was watching us. I was twelve, and Siobhan was eight. After bouncing around between aunts and uncles in Ireland, we ended up moving to California to live with my grandmother. She and I have never really gotten along. Siobhan resembles our mom, but I look just like our dad. I think our grandmother still blames our dad for taking her daughter away, and I'm a reminder of that for her."

"That's awful."

He shrugged. "It's always been that way."

Deciding it was a good time to change the subject, I said, "Show me a picture of Siobhan."

He took his phone from the top of the mini fridge and opened up his messages.

"Wait," I said, scrolling back up on his screen to our text message chain. "Why does that have three hearts behind it?"

He was still for a minute, his thumb hovering over my name. No, not my name.

Darling.

"Because…" he whispered after a brief moment of hesitation, "That's the number of times you've saved my life." I started to get up to look at him, but he tightened his arm around my waist. "Please don't make a big deal about it."

I laid back down and sighed. It was absolutely a big deal. That was probably what he meant by being honest with me, not just revealing where he was from. I found a loose thread at the end of his sleeve and started playing with it.

"You're not going to ask?" he whispered.

"About what?"

"Just…anything? The hearts? The whole talking thing?"

The whole talking thing had been at the top of my list of things to know for a long time, but I didn't want to overstep. I figured we were past that at this point, but I had worked so hard to gain his trust. I didn't want to do anything to risk breaking it.

"It's your story, Tyler. You can tell as much of it as you feel comfortable with, and I'll be here to listen."

"I was made fun of for my accent a lot after we moved here."

"Middle schoolers are definitely cruel," I agreed.

"Mhm. Siobhan fit in better because there were two kids in her class from London." He opened his phone again and opened the messages from his sister. He pulled up a selfie that she had recently sent him. She had long flowing blonde hair and striking blue eyes, a stark contrast to his dark hair and green eyes. I could definitely see the sibling resemblance though.

"She's beautiful."

"So are you." He pressed his lips gently to my temple.

Don't overthink this tonight. Deal with this tomorrow.

"I used to talk all the time. Back home, the teachers could never get me to stop talking in class. But, here, little-by-little, I just stopped. I've known Cameron for a few years, but, other than him, I haven't really talked to anyone since high school graduation. Until you."

I laughed.

"Alexia." His voice was serious now. "Are you sure you want me to tell you everything? It's not a happy story."

I rolled over onto my stomach to look at him. "I don't have a happy story either. My mom hates my dad for… a lot of reasons. She probably hates me a little bit for not joining Alpha Delta Beta. I told you, I have zero expectations. If you tell me everything – or if you tell me nothing – I will still be here for you. You're my friend, Tyler. Before all this –" I gestured to how close we were lying to each other, "– you were my friend. That is what's most important to me."

"If you're sure."

I nodded.

He stood to watch the sunset out the window.