President William McKinley High School
 

President William McKinley High School, more commonly referred to as McKinley High School, is a comprehensive public high school in the Honolulu District of the Hawaii State Department of Education. It serves grades nine through twelve.

Spencer seemed to be trying, at least for the time being, and the last few weeks had been utterly blissful. At least until Violet discovered Leighton had a date a few days before the dance. She hadn't planned to tell her mother about Spencer just yet, because Violet could be a bit much. Leighton didn't want her mom to scare Spencer because the situation was already delicate enough. To Leighton's dismay, Violet forced her to invite Spencer over for dinner one evening so she could meet him adequately before the dance. Luckily, they hit it off, and surprisingly, Spencer could keep up with Violet's questions and annoying witty ways, even when blazed. Leighton had been impressed.

Leighton's relationship with her mother differed from most mother-and-daughter relationships. Violet was only seventeen when she gave birth to Leighton. So, the two practically grew up together. It could be a blessing and a curse because they have their similarities, but they also have their differences. Violet always did what she thought was best, but sometimes, it came at a cost. Like Spencer, Leighton had her demons. She just chose to carry her trauma differently.

The night had been perfect and was going far better than she had anticipated, even if Spencer didn't spend much time on the dance floor. But he got up and danced with her when it mattered, and that's all Leighton could have asked. So instead, she spent most of the night dancing with Sam and a few other friends while Spencer hung back at the table with Jess, occasionally disappearing for smoke breaks.

After catching Spencer staring a few times, Leighton walked over to him and held out her hand, "C'mon, dance with me. We can sway, it's fine," she assured him. The last thing Leighton was worried about was moving in rhythm to the music. It wasn't a dance competition. "Please," she begged, sticking out her bottom lip and wiggling her hand. When he finally agreed, her excitement was evident.

Once on the dance floor, they turned towards each other. Leighton rested one hand on the lower part of his neck and placed the other on one of his shoulders. She could feel herself melting into him as they swayed back and forth. She had an overwhelming amount of emotions when it came to Spencer. "See, not so bad," Leighton grinned.

Dances usually weren't Jess' thing, but since Sam wanted to go and Spencer had already asked Leighton, he figured it might not be that bad, and it wasn't. So he let Sam dance her heart away while he sat at the table chilling with Spencer and playing on his phone. "Shit. My phone's about to die," he frowned, hitting the home button before shoving it back into his pocket.

The dance wasn't the only thing Jess had planned for tonight. His parents were out of town, and his older sister was staying with her boyfriend for the weekend, so he had the house to himself. If his phone died, Jess couldn't make the final preparations. Some may say Jess partied too hard, but he was only trying to live his best life. Not many people could say they grew up in literal paradise.

"So, how's it going with Leighton?" Jess had heard bits and pieces from what Leighton told Sam, but they hadn't talked much about it. "You seem happier. Which is nice to see," he expressed to his best friend. They didn't have many, but they had their sentimental moments, and this was one of them. "I can't tell you the last time I've seen you smile as much as you have tonight. It's a good look on you, dude, for real."

After Leighton came over and pulled Spencer onto the dance floor, Jess followed suit and went to find his girlfriend. Once finding her, he slipped his arms around her from behind and pulled her body back against his. "Hi, my beautiful Valentine," Jess whispered into her ear before turning her around to face him. "How's my girl?" he asked, moving strands of hair out of her face. Luckily Hailie didn't go forward with pressing any charges. It was most likely because she knew she was the instigator, and it may not have worked out the way she wanted it to.

Jess had Sam's Valentine's Day present in his pocket. It was a simple white gold heart necklace. He thought about waiting until after the dance, but he was impatient because he was excited to give it to her. Jess spent some of his savings, but she was worth it and deserved something nice on their first Valentine's Day as an official couple.

Sam really didn't know how she had managed to get off without any repercussions for beating up Hailie, but she was considering it a win and moving on. An added perk: Hailie was far too afraid to harass Sam now, so she no longer had to deal with that bullshit either. Sam was free to date Jess in peace now.

Normally she'd rather celebrate anti-valentines or galentines instead, but this dance was actually proving to be quite fun, despite her impulsive last-minute decision to wear what was probably the most uncomfortable dress she owned. Still, she was making it work and having a blast with her friends. Watching as Leighton went off to get Spencer, Sam continued dance with their other friends. She'd been keeping her eye on Jess, just to make sure that no dumb bimbos tried to talk to him, but she wasn't going to force him onto the floor. He was dressed up, he was here, she was happy.

Still, it brought a smile to Sam's face when he snuck up behind her. It was wild to her to think how much could change in a year. If she could go back in time to last year and tell herself that she'd be falling for Jess, past Sam would probably laugh in her face. But here she was, falling hard for her best guy friend. "I'm a million times better now that you're here." Her hands joined together on the back of his neck, and she began swaying with him as she stared up at him adoringly. "Thank you again for bringing me tonight. I hope you're having some fun because if you aren't, we could totally spice things up. We could sneak off and find a classroom to make out in or I bet someone here smuggled in some of their parent's booze, just gotta sniff them out."

Was Sam trying a little too hard? Maybe but Jess had been treating her like a princess ever since they'd become official, and he deserved to be taken care of as well.

Spencer didn't understand what it was with girls and their strange obsession with dressing up. The clothes were uncomfortable, the dudes all looked like they were a part of some cult with their matching outfits, and to him it all seemed like more trouble than it was really worth. Leighton did look extra gorgeous too so maybe it wasn't all bad. Thankfully, she didn't even mind that he was stoned off his ass either. Probably because he'd managed to still make it through dinner with her mom without screwing things up.

Spending most of the actual dance people watching while Jess played on his phone, Spencer found his gaze landing on Leighton most of all. There were plenty of pretty girls here and he knew that if he wanted to, he could seduce a fair share of them. Hell, he already had done just that. He'd never actually been insecure about his body count until he started trying this whole exclusivity with Leighton. It could sometimes be awkward encountering exes when he was with her. Spencer squinted at his friend once he started talking to him again. "What?" he paused before his brain finally registered what had been said to him. "Oh right, she's amazing." he admitted, trying to play it cool. His friend knew him though, Jess could already see the signs of how much Spencer liked Leighton.

"I think you might be setting the bar too high for me though. Think you can tone it down with this whole perfect boyfriend thing?" he joked just before Leighton joined them at the table. "Hey. Uh..." he cleared his throat and loosened his tie slightly. "Yes, I can't say no to that cute face. Let's go." Spencer patted Jess on the back as he stood up. "See you later, lover boy." He took her hand and followed her out to the floor, his eyes locked on her the entire time.

One of Spencer's hands rested on her hip while the other one made its way to the small of her back and held her in close. "Nope. Not bad at all." Spencer smiled back. Swaying in silence for a moment before he finally spoke up again. "You having a good time? I mean, it looks like you are but is it everything you ever hoped for?" Spencer hoped that didn't sound too snarky. It was easy flirting with girls that he didn't care about but it was different with Leighton. He liked her more than he'd liked any girl and he constantly found himself feeling like an idiot when he was around her.

Leighton leaned in and kissed his beautiful luscious lips, which were softer than she had imagined. Then, pulling away, Leighton looked back at him adoringly. "It's better than what I hoped for," she clarified. "It's been perfect. You've been perfect. You've treated me like a princess, not just tonight, but for a few weeks now. I've been on Cloud 9." Leighton paused, wondering how much she wanted him to know. She didn't want to scare him away with her emotions. "Sometimes when we're together I have to pinch myself just to make sure this is real and not some crazy dream I'm having," she giggled.

As they continued to sway and rotated in a circle at their rhythm, Leighton looked down, suddenly feeling overwhelmed after noticing a previous flame of Spencer's was staring at her. It hadn't happened often, but it wasn't the first time tonight she had caught one of his ex's giving her the death stare. Leighton wouldn't have been surprised if he had told all his future conquests that Leighton was just a friend to avoid the conflict, but now here they were. She didn't know for sure, but that was the scenario her brain had constructed in the last hour or so.

Trying to calm herself down without Spencer noticing her going into panic mode, Leighton broke the silence. "Oh, I forgot to ask, how'd you do on your test?" Leighton had been helping him pull up the grades he had let slip at the beginning of the semester, which was pretty bad considering the new semester only started in January.

Jess slipped his arms around her slim frame, unable to erase the smile on his face. "Oh, babe, you don't have to thank me. I'm just doing my duty as a boyfriend," he chuckled. "I wanna make you happy, and if coming to the dance was going to make you happy, then we go to the dance," Jess shrugged. It seemed like a no-brainer to him.

"I'm having a great time! " Looking down at Sam, he chuckled, "That sounds amazing," he started to shake his head, "It's not necessary, though." As great as it was to be able to kiss and have sex with Sam whenever he wanted, he didn't want that to be the essence of their new relationship. Instead, they needed to be friends just as much as they needed to be lovers. Otherwise, Jess felt like their relationship wasn't going to work. "But if you want alcohol," Jess reached into the inner pocket of his vest and pulled out his flask. "I got this?" Jess said, tilting it back and forth.

After revealing it to Sam, Jess slipped the flask back into his vest pocket. Jess knew he had to be careful. He pulled down Sam's arms before taking one of his hands in hers and guiding her to an exit. As the pair made their way through the crowd, he quickly reconsidered his decision and moved Sam in front of him. Sam looked fucking gorgeous tonight, and he didn't trust the scumbags in their school not to get handsy.

The thought hadn't been original because groups of their classmates were already mingling across the green grass. So he carefully picked a spot for them to sit, somewhat secluded and away from other people. When he finally decided, Jess took out the flask, handing it off to Sam before taking off his vest and laying it on the grass for her to sit on. He hadn't thought this out because he would've brought a blanket if he had. Jess sat on the edge of his vest and patted the open spot between his legs. "Let's be corny and look at the stars," he chuckled, looking up at her.

Spencer just smiled at her as she rambled on about how happy she was. There was a little sparkle in her eye as she spoke, it was cute. It also felt amazing knowing that he helped caused it, but he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He'd been doing so well; it was only a matter of time before he fucked it up one way or another. "Good, I'm glad." he told her. "I was a jackass before. I should have been treating you like this the whole time."

With his eyes so focused on her, it had been hard not to notice her shift in mood. His eyes darted over in the direction she'd been looking, and it took him a moment, but he finally spotted the death glare. Returning with his own look of disgust before slowing then stopping the rotation once Leighton's back was to his ex. He didn't want to draw any extra attention to the situation than he needed to, but he was going to find his own ways to protect her from it. At least, as much as he could anyway. Spencer hoped that she hadn't had her own 'Hailie' tormentor that she wasn't telling him about because he had zero clue about how to ask her that. He was really banking on Sam or Jess telling him if that were the case and so far, they hadn't.

Spencer stared at her blankly for a few moments when she asked him about the test. They were already spending their free time inside the school, last thing he wanted to be talking about was school. "We'll find out Monday... but I have this hot tutor that has been helping me and she's also super smart, so I'm sure I killed it." Spencer smirked and winked at her. His problems at school were most definitely a result of his mental state and not his intelligence. Yeah, he certainly wasn't an AP type of kid, but he wasn't a complete moron either. He just seemed to have a hard time caring about school anymore. Or maybe it was a cry for help. Spencer figured his new therapist would tell him soon enough what his problem was.

The hand on her hip made its way up to her chin and lifted her face to meet his more so he could kiss her again. Spencer couldn't think of anything to say so he figured he would do what he knew best. His other hand pulled her in closer, so their bodies were pressed against each other as she kissed. Kissing her passionately enough to make her forget about the haters but not so much that they drew the attention of any adults, he found himself getting just as lost in the kiss.

"You weren't a jackass, Spence," Leighton disagreed. "You're a hot teenage boy, who likes many girls, and many girls like you," she started, giving Spencer the benefit of the doubt. "And I don't fault you for that," Leighton added. "I had hoped one day you would come around and see how great we could be together, and you did," she shrugged. "And it's not like we don't have things in common. Like, we both have family issues. You got trauma, I got trauma," she said comically to keep the conversation light-hearted. "I often wondered about the what if's, and now I don't have to anymore." Leighton quickly wondered if she overshared too much.

She placed one of her hands on the side of his face and pushed it gently to look back at her when she saw Spencer shoot looks in a familiar direction. "Stop. It's not that serious," she tried to assure him for both their sakes. "I'm fine. It's okay," Leighton added, moving her hand back to the nape of his neck. Unlike Sam, she wasn't an aggressive person. Leighton wanted to enjoy the dance without worrying about getting into a fight.

Leighton immediately started to blush after Spencer began to compliment her. She covered her face with both her hands. "I hate when you do this to me," Leighton said, a bit muffled. Then, after a moment, she pulled her hands away from her face and sighed. "Sorry. I'm still not used to all of this." When they were together, he often did and said things that made it feel like her whole brain dropped right out of her head.

When Spencer kissed her, she instantly closed her eyes, feeling her body loosen up. Her stomach felt full of fluttery butterflies, and her heart felt like it would jump out of her chest any minute when he deepened their kiss. She moved one of her hands to the back of Spencer's head while the other cupped the side of his face. Leighton pulled away briefly, opening her eyes to find Spencer staring back at her. She smiled before flirtatiously brushing her nose against his and kissing him again.

Sam had witnessed Jess be a boyfriend in the past and she definitely ganged up with Spencer to tease him about how soft and sweet he was whenever his girlfriends were around. But now? She was the girlfriend; all the sweet things were for her and it was making it hard not to fall head over heels for him. "I know that your parents are like relationship goals so you were raised right, but they aren't all like you. Thanks to you being amazing, I don't have personal experience, but there are a lot of boyfriends who don't even do the bare minimum." Sam peered down at the flask he held between them then back up at him and her smile turned much more mischievous. "Yay! Yes please."

Once outside, Sam clung onto his arm until they found their spot and he handed her the booze. Unscrewing the cap as she watched him get positioned on the ground, she built her bottom lip and tilted her head to the side. The pat on his vest snapped her out of her fantasies, she shook her head and smiled at him. Looking down at her short dress, then back at him, she let out a fake laugh. "That's a good one. I'll just stand here and let you stare at me. That seems easier." She paused to strike a couple poses before continuing. "Just kidding. Give me a moment to get down there."

Taking a quick swig off the flask, she cringed then shivered as the liquor burned its way down her throat, then she handed it to him and got to work on sitting in front of him without exposing her underwear to everyone. She'd bought those with the intention of Jess being the one to see them. 'I should have just stuck with the boring pink dress, but nooooo I just had to be flashy!' Sam finally got herself between her legs and she slightly leaned into him, trying her best not to hurt him with all the gems on her dress. "Do me a favor and remind me to burn this dress." Sam joked; she wasn't going to burn it, but she definitely would be getting rid of it after tonight though.

Sam tilted her head back until it rested on his shoulder, and she stared up at the night sky. This whole night had been special, but this moment right here was shaping up to be her favorite of the night. "You seriously are the best boyfriend ever."

Spencer could practically feel the evil stares piercing him as he kissed Leighton. Maybe it bothered him more than it did her, he wasn't sure, but he was ready to find somewhere without an audience. Pulling back, he smiled at her once more before leaning in close to her ear. "I want to show you something." Leaning away he grinned as he watched her get slightly flustered. "Not like that. I need you to trust me though and... maybe not ask questions about how I found it?" Truth was he'd found it when trying to find somewhere to make out with girls while at school, but he'd ended up liking it for his own private getaway. He wasn't the only one who knew about it - the trash they sometimes left behind told him that - but he'd never actually spent any time there with someone before.

"Here, come with me." Spencer placed one of her hands in his and lead her out into the outdoor corridors. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, he led her to the second floor and then finally a door that he'd originally assumed was just a janitor's closet. The school's janitor was old as hell and always forgetting to lock the doors, so he rarely had any issues getting in. It looked like a normal janitors closet but the back wall, there was a metal ladder built into the wall that led to a small hatch door in the ceiling. "This is what I wanted to show you, well... almost. It's up there." he told her and pointed. "and since I don't want you thinking I'm just doing this to get a free peep show, I'll go first so you get to stare at my ass."

Climbing up the ladder, he swung the door open and ascended onto the roof. Turning around to offer her a hand as she followed him up, he closed the door behind her. "This... is my secret hideaway." It wasn't anything spectacular, just a flat, square section of roof with some industrial looking ducting off in the corner but it was where he went to be alone and now he was choosing to share it with her. "Give me just a moment." Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket and picked the first love song playlist he could find and hit play. Setting his phone down on the ledge, he turned back to her and held out his hand once more. "May I have this dance?"

Spencer felt like a fool. He didn't know how to be sweet and sappy like Jess. It seemed to just come naturally to his friend, whereas Spencer had to watch cheesy chick flicks in private to get ideas.

“You seriously can’t get down here?” Jess stared back at his girlfriend before realizing it was all a ruse, and she started to pose for him. He rolled his eyes playfully at her and held up his hands for support if she needed it, and she did.

He probably found it funnier than it was, but he started to laugh and couldn’t stop watching her trying to sit down with him. When she finally settled, Jess gathered his composure, “I’m sorry,” he apologized with a hint of a chuckle in his tone. “Why’d you wear this dress anyway?” He started to pick at the gems on one of her shoulders. “I thought you were wearing that pink one?” Honestly, he didn’t care what Sam wore. She could wear a garbage bag, and he’d still think she was the hottest girl. “I have an extra gym uniform in my locker if you want to change out of this?” Jess didn’t want Sam to be uncomfortable if she didn’t have to be.

“Best boyfriend, huh? Can I get that in writing, please?” He teased and rested the side of his face against hers. “I have something for you,” this was going to solidify Sam’s statement. He leaned back so it was easier to rummage through his pocket. “Oh, here’s your phone,” he handed it over to Sam. He’d been her purse for the night, holding all her essential items. “That’s not what I have for you, though,” he clarified before pulling out the rectangular velvet box. “This is what I have for you,” Jess smiled, handing it over to her. “It’s not like Tiffany’s or anything, but it’s real gold. I didn’t want it to turn you green or anything like that,” Jess informed her. “I also paid extra for this thing called a warranty,” he shrugged. “The lady said it was a good idea just in case the chain popped or a stone fell out. You can get it replaced for free.”

Jess eagerly watched as she opened the box, “Do you like it?”

Leighton stepped back, allowing Spencer to go up the ladder first. Her gaze followed him. She smiled, “It’s nice,” she commented, referring to his butt before making her way up behind him. At this moment, she was thankful she didn't listen to her mother and wore the heels Violet had recommended. Instead, Leighton wore her comfy flats. She preferred baggy band t-shirts, jeans, and a pair of Vans. She liked to go unnoticed. Violet, on the other hand, was the definition of bold and beautiful. It could be challenging at times for Leighton because of it.

When they reached the top, Leighton peered over the ledge, inhaling the fresh air and taking in the view. Hawaii was much different from the mainland. It was like its own little world. When her mother moved them two years ago for reasons they still chose not to discuss, Leighton felt like an outcast. If it hadn't been for Sam, she wouldn't have survived alone.

“Thank you,” she placed her hand in his and closed the space between them. She thanked him for noticing she had been uncomfortable and was mindful enough to get her away from the situation. Leighton wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. The pair danced in silence as songs came and went. It wasn't an awkward silence, either. It was comforting as they held each other, stealing a few kisses here and there.

Leighton started to pull back, opening the space between them and finally choosing to break the silence. “You have any more joints, or did you and Jess smoke them all?” Leighton hadn't been into smoking marijuana until she met Sam, and now she wanted to do it more, especially with Spencer.

"Everyone already saw that pink dress on my stories soooo I wanted to give a little shock factor when I showed up in this." Sam shrugged. "Plus, it's fun looking and feeling like a disco ball when I'm dancing." Sam placed her pointer finger on her lips as she debated taking him up on the offer to wear his gym uniform, she knew she'd look cute in it but still, there was no such thing as beauty without a little sacrifice. "Thanks babe but I'll be fine until we finally get out of here and back to your place." She'd already stashed a backpack of stuff at his place for tonight, but she still fully planned on stealing one of his shirts to sleep in later. Sam had convinced Sophia to let them tell their parents that she and Leighton were staying the night with her after the dance so that they could crash at Jess' place without any issues.

"Sorry, I think I left my pen and paper in my other dress." she teased back. "For me?" she leaned forward and turned her upper body slightly to see better but quickly got distracted when he handed her phone to her. "Ooo. Thanks!" Sam pushed the button on the side to turn it on and check her notifications from the lock screen but once she didn't see anything needing her attention asap, she placed it pushed the button again and set it on her lap.

Looking down at the box, Sam's eyes got wide and her cheeks turned rosy. She took the box from him and held it in her hands for a moment before opening it, cherishing every bit of this and hanging on every word he said. Her cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so hard. "Babe, of course I like it. No, I take that back. I love it! It's gorgeous and you've really outdone yourself." She really wanted to turn around to hug him but that was impossible in this dress so instead she placed a quick kiss on his lips.

"Alright, now put it on me, please!" Sam pleaded, carefully removing it from the box and handing it to him. Turning her back to him again, she lifted her hair out of his way for him while he put it on her. Holding it in her hand and admiring it, she sighed. "I don't think I ever want to take it off. I'm gonna have to, clearly, but like it's so perfect." Finally letting go of it, she carefully leaned back onto him again in time for him to hand her the flask again. It went down a little easier this time but it still stung. "While I appreciate you having this and all, you couldn't have picked something a little better tasting?" she handed it back to him. That was enough for her for now, she could wait until they left.

Jess chuckled, listening to Sam’s reason as to why she wore the disco ball dress. “Baby, you give the shock factor no matter what you wear,” he told her. When she mentioned his after-party, Jess visibly got excited, “Tonight is gonna be so lit!” He was somewhat notorious for his parties and known for his connections. “And are you sure you're going to be able to stay the night?” Jess wanted to confirm. He had already gotten his hopes up and didn't want his girlfriend to let him down.

He was thrilled by Sam’s reaction to her necklace. Jess pulled back from their kiss, “Yeah? Honestly, I almost didn’t get it because I thought you might think it was too lame,” he said with a grin. Sam was loud, blunt, sarcastic, and chaotic, not that any of that was a bad thing. She was just a lot different than the girls he had previously dated. Plus, Sam used to make fun of him for how well he treated his girlfriends. With all that knowledge, it made him very indecisive about what to do. It wasn’t until he talked to his sister that he decided to go ahead and buy it. He made the right decision. Following her request, he took the necklace from her, put it around her neck, and clasped it.

Jess gasped, slightly offended by her remarks about his alcohol. “Please, this is better than whatever you sneak out of your parents' cabinet,” he shot back jokingly. “I’d give you a joint, but there are too many people lingering around right now,” he frowned. Jess wasn’t trying to get either one of them suspended or, worse, expelled.

He hadn’t cared about the stars. The entire time Jess wanted an excuse to be alone with his girlfriend. He didn’t mind the dance, but it wasn’t his thing. Honestly, he only came to keep an eye on his girlfriend and ensure she was safe. Jess’ eyes fixated on Sam’s side profile as she gazed up into the night sky. He had always thought she was beautiful, but now that they were a couple, he looked at her differently. Jess was falling in love with her. He loved all her little quirks and making her laugh. Jess fucking loved her laugh.

He shifted, trying not to make sudden moves because he didn’t want Sam to notice what he was doing. Jess took his phone from his pocket and quickly snapped a picture of Sam, wanting to remember this moment. He smiled when she turned to look at him after the flash caught her attention. “What? Look how fucking beautiful you are,” he passed his dying phone over to his girlfriend. “If you don’t like it, I don’t care,” he took his phone back, “It’s gonna be my new wallpaper,” he happily told her as he changed it.

"I got you." he assured her, placing a kiss on the top of her head before resting his chin in the same spot. Holding her close as they swayed, one of his hands made its way up to her head and played with her hair. Spencer didn't even realize how long they'd been dancing contently in silence until he realized how many songs had played. Stoned or not, he always found himself losing track of time when he was with her.

Licking his lips, Spencer smirked down at her when she asked him if he had any joints. Reaching his pointer and middle finger into the check pocket of his jacket, he held it up in between them. "I just so happen to have one left." They had more ready for the party but had only rolled as many as they'd thought they'd need for the dance. If the girl's wanted to stay much longer though, they definitely hadn't rolled enough.

Making their way over to the ledge to lean, he placed the joint between his lips and lit it. Puffing on it to make sure it got going good enough, he passed it over to her and exhaled. "Here you go." Rubbing his hands together, he realized how chilly it was up here now that they weren't pressed up against each other. Looking over at the goosebumps on her arms as a breeze hit them. Shrugging his jacket off, he wrapped it around her shoulders. "You look like you might need this more than me." Taking the joint back from her, he took a drag, let the smoke waft out then sucked it back in and smiled at her before finally exhaling it fully.

"About tonight. I want to make sure you know that I'm not like expecting anything or whatever. You can have the pullout all to yourself. I'll sleep on the floor or couch upstairs even. Hell, I'll sleep outside if I have to... I just want to make sure you're good and taken care of." He hadn't exactly meant to say all that, but it'd been on his mind. Could you really blame him though? He was a teenage boy about to spend the night with a gorgeous girl after partying the night away with her. Spencer already knew that Jess & Sam would end up making a bunch of noise upstairs, leaving them to figure out how they were going to spend their night in the basement.

Leighton took the joint but only took a few light puffs, not wanting to cough in front of him. She could sometimes be insecure about the most insignificant things that nobody else was worried about but her. She stared at him in awe as she took off his jacket and put it over her shoulders. “Thank you,” Leighton said, handing the joint back to him before adjusting his coat slightly. She watched as he did his little trick with the smoke, hypnotized by him. “Has anyone ever told you, you give off James Dean vibes?” Still confused about how someone as hot as Spencer could exist, let alone be interested in someone like her. Leighton was well aware of Spencer's taste in girls, she had seen enough of them come and go, and she was not it. “You got the whole broody bad boy thing down. It’s hot,” she said, nodding and smiling at him.

It caught Leighton off guard when he brought up tonight’s sleeping arrangements. She had thought about it, but none of the scenarios involved Spencer sleeping on the floor. “Okay, no,” Leighton scoffed, quickly disagreeing. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, Spence, and you’re not sleeping outside, either,” she chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief that’d he think she’d want any of that. ”When we’re together, I get these feelings and sensations that I’ve never felt before,” Leighton took a hit of the joint. After holding the smoke in for a few seconds before releasing it. She coughed a little, but it quickly dissipated. She handed the joint back off to Spencer as she continued, “And I want to see if you could make me feel other things too.” If she had to elaborate, she would, but Leighton figured Spencer might know where she was going with this. “And not just me, you too,” she added. Leighton was starting to feel the impact of the joint.

Leighton moved closer to him, slipping her arm underneath his and wrapping it around his back. She looked up at him. Her eyes glazed over and bloodshot. She cupped one side of his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek, “Hi,” Leighton said with a grin before kissing him.

Did her dress draw more attention to herself than she liked, probably. With her loud and wild ways, people stared whether she liked it or not so at least this way, she could tell herself they were hypnotized by her dress instead of judging her for being weird. Sam hated that she cared about others' opinions as much as she did, but she couldn't help it and had found ways to make it seem like it didn't care. "Oh my god, yes! Shit! I forgot to tell you. I totally owe my sis but she is covering for me. Leighton too. I told Spencer I'd go all Mortal Kombat on him if he tried anything stupid."

"Stop!" she playfully slapped him on the leg. "Seriously. You did great. I'm going to be so absolutely obnoxious about showing it off to everyone!" Sam knew she wasn't always the best at expressing how she truly felt so she wanted to make sure that he knew how much she truly loved her gift. "Whatever. You enjoy the rest of that, I'll just ride the high of this amazing night until we get back to your house."

Sam's face scrunched up after he took a picture of her, and she slowly turned her head to face him. Examining the picture on his phone before he took it back, she agreed that it was a cute photo, but she still couldn't help but pick apart every 'flaw' that she was convinced that she had. It kinda just came with being a girl. "You're lucky you're hot." Sam stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed her phone off her lap. Scrolling through the zillion photos stored on her phone, she was on the hunt to find a goofy one of him. Problem was, most of them were him looking fine.

Finally she found one she'd saved from a text session long ago when they were just friends he'd been trying to cheer her up because she'd been grounded and couldn't make it to a party. He still looked good in it to her - she loved his silly side - but it would work in a pinch. "You'll just have to deal with mine being this then." Sam informed him, flashing her phone's screen at him before returning it to her lap. "And I saw that almost dead phone battery on yours... Let's go to the car, charge it a little, and smoke that joint?"

“I don’t think you will have to worry about him. He’s trying to make it work with Leighton. I think he likes her, for real,” Jess revealed. “I tried to talk to him at the table, but she came over,” he shrugged. It wasn’t random for Jess to ask Spencer how he was doing or feeling. Jess cared for his friend and knew he struggled with his mental health. Spencer may not have always talked to Jess about his feelings, but at least Spencer knew Jess was there when he needed him. “He said I needed to tone down the boyfriend charm. I was just born this sweet. I don’t know what to tell him,” Jess chuckled.

Jess leaned forward to look at Sam’s phone. He sat back, smiling and reminiscing about that night’s event. “It’s still a shame you had to miss that one.” Jess didn’t care what photo his girlfriend had of him as her wallpaper as long as it was him.

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jess said as he started to gather his things and shove them back into his pockets before getting up. He looked down at Sam, grinning, wondering if he should let her attempt to get up alone. “Alright, how we going to do this, baby? Should I pick you up?” He asked, chuckling. After a few attempts, Jess finally got her up off the ground. He picked up his vest and flung it over his shoulder. Jess placed his hand on the small of Sam’s back and started to look around the area they had occupied to double-check they weren’t going to leave anything behind. When he was satisfied, they went on their way.

Once starting the car, Jess immediately reached for his charger and plugged in his phone, then placed it in the cup holder. He straightened out his body briefly to easily pull the metal container he carried with his pre-rolled joints out of one of his pockets. Jess’ pockets were like Dora’s backpack. He had everything in them right now. “I can’t wait to get home and get out of these fucking clothes,” he groaned, opening the container and taking out a joint. “Can you put that in the glove box for me, sweets?” He asked and handed it over to her.

After lighting it and taking a few hits, he passed it off to Sam. Jess shifted his body towards her, admiring her for a moment before speaking up. “So, you have a good time?” Jess asked before reaching out and placing one of his hands on her thigh.

Leighton was so adorable when she smoked. Everything she did was adorable to him, but he watched fondly as she took her baby hits off the joint. Not that it would bother him if she didn't want to smoke but he had to admit it was nice to be able to smoke with a girl and not have her be annoying. Taking another drag as she told him that he had the whole rebel without a cause thing going for him. "James who?" He asked as he held in the smoke and stared for a moment before chuckling and exhaling at the same time. "I'm just messing with you. Good to know you think I'm hot though."

Spencer knew of him, but he didn't know much more about the actor other than he had a tragic death in a nice car. Whenever someone brought him up though, Spencer did wonder if the dude ever felt as depressed as he sometimes did. Trying not to let the dark thoughts ruin the mood, he took another drag of the joint before passing it back to her. Holding the smoke in his mouth as long as he could so that barely any smoke came out when he finally exhaled.

It was nice knowing that she was down for him sleeping on the couch with her, but he was honestly a bit worried by it. It was going to be hell keeping his hands to himself and he was still trying not to rush the whole sex thing with her. So, no sex for him with her, no sex from other girls, Spencer was undoubtedly craving sex but for once, he didn't know if he was ready. That wasn't something he'd thought would ever happen. Maybe part of him was worried that once they had done it, he might get bored and want to go back to his 'forever a bachelor' ways. Only a little bit though, he was finally feeling high again and was too happy to be worried about the bad stuff right now. All he cared about right now was enjoying this amazing night that they were having.

Holding the joint to his lips with one hand, he stared ahead, listening to what she was saying but taking a while before comprehending what she was actually getting at. Yeah, it was definitely going to be hell. Hot, sexy, amazing hell. Now he was the one coughing on the joint. Clearing his throat once it had subsided, he used his free hand to adjust his tie as he tried to regain his composure but before he really had a chance to Leighton was drawing him in for another kiss. Kissing her back until he got tired of having to split his focus on her and making sure he didn't burn her with the joint.

Pulling back but only enough so he had enough space to put his pointer finger on her lips. "One second." Leaving his finger there but turning his head, he quickly snuffed out the last of the joint and set it down on the ledge next to his phone. Turning back to her, he removed his finger and placed his hand on her cheek instead. "Now where were we?" he asked with a grin before leaning in to kiss her again. Spencer remained gentle but kissed her a little more aggressively this time, he wanted to make sure she knew how badly he wanted her. The hand that wasn't holding her already made its way to her side, slowly working its way up to her breast.

Sam loved Spencer like a brother but she'd been on Team Leighton this whole time. His efforts to be better hadn't gone unnoticed but Sam was far more concerned by Leighton getting her heart broken than anything else. "Oh god, for real, don't get me wrong. I love Spence and all but like there no way he'll ever be as sweet or charming as a boyfriend as you! I do hope that for Leighton's sake that he does come close one day though." Sam wanted nothing but the best for her friends and loved ones and she'd absolutely already imagined how freaking killer it would they all grew up together being this powerhouse group of friends and couples.

Pursing her lips together as she sat there, shifting her legs and arms, trying to figure out the best way about standing without causing her dress to ride up in the process. Once Jess took pity on her and finally got her up, she muttered, "Stupid fucking dress." Pulling her dress down while he made sure that they had all their belonging, Sam was cursing herself out in her head because she knew she only had herself to blame for the dress.

Snapping a quick picture of herself with Jess in the background, she sent it to Leighton before setting her phone down on the dashboard. "Yep." Sam did as she was asked and placed it in the glove box before making herself comfortable in her seat. While he smoked, her eyes scanned the area and made sure no one was going to sneak up on them. Once satisfied, she relaxed some, took the joint from him, and got to smoking it. "Dances are definitely still lame but I actually had a lot of fun. I seriously can't wait for the after party though. And then the after-after party." Sam winked at him and blew her smoke right toward him before feeling bad and using her hand to help disperse it some.

Sex with her boyfriend was going to be the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae that was this amazing night. Sam had tried to sneak a couple bites of the cherry already tonight but Jess, but he hadn't seemed interested yet. She wasn't worried though. If he turned her down when she got naked in his bed later tonight, only then would she allow herself to start worrying about it. Right now, she figured he didn't want her thinking he'd only done all of this for her in hopes of getting laid. Her boyfriend was hot though, and the fact that he'd done all of this to make her happy, only made him that much hotter to her.

"I think that after this," she handed the joint back over to him, "We should track down Leighton and Spencer, and get back to your place?" she suggested. "I think we've spent enough time looking fabulous. It's time to get comfy and get our party on."

She rolled her eyes at him when he pretended not to know who James Dean was. “Of course, I think you’re hot. Was there any ever doubt?” Leighton chuckled, slightly confused.

Leighton was more experienced than she led Spencer to believe. It was a conversation she wasn't ready to have. Even if she wanted to tell him, Leighton didn’t know where to begin. She also wanted to spare him from the horrific memories she lived with daily. Leighton only said she was a virgin because she never got to make that choice herself. Her mom kept secrets and rewrote history, so why couldn’t Leighton?

Everything she told Spencer about her feelings was genuine. No one had ever made her feel the way he could when they were together. A simple brush of the hand could send shivers up her spine while his kisses sent shockwaves through her body. The effect he had on her was overwhelming and addicting.

Leighton swirled her tongue around his, occasionally sucking on it for shock factor. Feeling Spencer’s hand roaming her chest, Leighton adjusted her posture and straightened up, giving him better accessibility. As their kiss continued and his hand explored more, Leighton moaned against his lips. She didn’t want this moment to end, and she wanted more. Leighton didn't want to deprive Spencer anymore. She thought he’d waited patiently long enough.

Leighton moved one of her hands to Spencer’s lap and searched for his bulge. When she did, she began gently massaging it through his pants, wanting him to feel some sensation as well. She seductively bit Spencer’s bottom lip before eagerly kissing him again.

Jess smirked and squeezed her thigh when she mentioned their private after-party. He rested his head back against the headrest and looked over at her. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby. I can't wait,” he informed her, sliding his hand higher between her legs. He wished he could control himself, but he found Sam irresistible. Jess immediately felt himself start to get a hard-on and began pulling back his hand. He grunted, “Fuck,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.

“Thank the fucking, God!” He said, looking up at his car ceiling. “Yes, please,” he eagerly wanted to go home, but he didn't want to be the first one to say it. “I'll go ahead and text Spence. They can start heading this way now.” He picked up his phone from the cup holder and shot Spence a quick text message.

After texting his best friend and wondering where their friends could be, Jess turned his attention back to his girlfriend. He pulled one of her hands over into his lap and absentmindedly began playing with it. Jess loved her hands; they fit perfectly into his. He turned his head and looked over at her, unsure where the urge came from, but he said it anyway. “I'm falling in love with you,” Jess admitted. “Like, really falling in love with you.” He had always thought he'd experienced love, but these were feelings that none of his other girlfriends had ever given him.

Jess felt his heart drop when Sam didn't immediately say anything. He tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. It was just as a shock to him as it was to her. “Please say something,” he begged quietly.

"Well, no, not really, but it's still nice to hear." He shrugged.

Spencer hadn't exactly thought this all the way through. When Leighton shifted to give him better access, he cupped her breast in his hand. Even over top the dress, it was turning him on. The dress looked amazing on her but he was really starting to hate it once he realized it'd be impossible for him to feel her skin underneath as he fondled her breasts.

His closed eyes rolled into the back of his head the moment he felt her hand begin to stroke his penis and he let out a groan when bit his lip. 'Fuuuuuccck.' Leaving her breasts so that he could hold her face while he kissed her harder, groaning every now and then when her hand grazed the tip. He desperately wanted to tear that dress off of her but in the back of his mind, he knew that this wasn't the right place.

That didn't mean that they couldn't have a little bit more fun first. Placing his hand on her thigh, he wiggled his fingers down between the other one as she spread he legs some. From there he slid his hand under her dress until he felt the material of her underwear. Stroking softly at first, he gradually applied pressure until the underwear created a valley between her lips. Moving his finger around until he found a spot that made her moan back.

Once he heard that sweet sound he wanted, he deepened the kiss and focused his fingers on that area. Every stroke and moan just made him want her more and more and he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able control himself. Someone was looking out for him though in the form of a buzz in his pants pockets. With his mom in town, he had to answer her promptly or else she went into crazy mom mode.

Letting out one more groan - a mixture of pleasure from what was happening right now and disappointment because he had to be the one to stop it all. Withdrawing his hand and softly stopping hers as he pulled back from the kiss. "Sorry... It's... I..." Spencer tried gathering his thoughts while all the blood was rushing to his erection. "I'm loving this, I just think it'd be better, somewhere more private."

Sam mimicked his behavior, resting her head against the head rest and staring lovingly at him. She still couldn't believe it, but she was utterly smitten with the boy sitting across from her. Her eyes wanted to close as his hand drifted up her leg but before they had a chance to, his hand retreated, and she was left pouting at him. Quickly though, she found herself giggling when she noticed his movements and put it together. "Awwwww. Baby."

Laughing more when he celebrated the idea of leaving, she pulled her dress down a little bit and puffed on the joint before putting it out when she saw what she thought was a teacher. She was pretty sure it was a senior but still, she kept her eye on them until they drove away. Tensing up when she heard Jess speak again, she heard words she'd never expected to hear in this moment. Sam was frozen and she was panicking. She knew how to love family members and she knew how to love her friends, but now he was more than just a friend. Did she really even know how what romantic love meant? That was something she'd been questioning for a few weeks now.

Realizing she was sitting there with her mouth open as she stared, Sam's free hand made it's way to her mouth to close it. He started to look as terrified as she was feeling and that caused her to finally snap out of it. "Oh my god. I'm sorry. It's just... I've never. Uh. No. Let me start over." Sam took a deep breath before continuing. "Jesse Jessabelle Montgomery, I'm falling in love with you too. Actually, I think I might already be in love with you."

Leighton didn't know what happened. One minute, the four of them were as thick as thieves; the next thing Leighton knew, Jess and Sam were hanging out with Brooke, Jess’ sister, and she and Spencer were fighting. It felt like her life was falling apart. Because of all this, she’d been leaning on her mother more than normal. In all honesty, it brought them closer.

She could over Jess and Sam repeatedly disappearing on her, but she couldn't understand why Spencer’s mood suddenly changed. It was as if a switch had flipped. How could his feelings change so quickly? It made her head spin. After a long conversation with her mother, Leighton decided to take the leap of faith and try to salvage whatever they had left of their relationship one last time. Leighton hoped, at least.

He’d often been hiding in the library instead of his usual spots. He wanted to stay out of sight. Leighton knew it. Spencer knew trying to find him between the stacks would be harder if she went looking. She decided to skip her fifth period because she knew it was Specer’s free period, and he’d been in the library somewhere. After casually walking through his favourite genes, Leighton looked elsewhere in the library. She eventually found him in the biography section. He had propped up against a wall, watching or reading someone on his phone. It wasn’t clear. Before she could say anything, Spencer had already seen her standing before him. He always had a poker face, and Leighton could never get a vibe from him. It was unsettling at times.

When he took out his earbuds, Leighton knew it was her cue to go. “If you don’t want to be with me anymore, all you have to do is break up. You don’t have to hide in the fucking library,” Leighton spoke softly, but her tone, it was serious. She wanted to cry, but at this point, she was sure she cried out all the tears she could. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me, and you are. I don’t understand. Why did you ghost me? Why did you choose to abandon me after veering? I don’t understand. Make me understand,” Leightons expressed sternly.

She took a few more steps forward before sitting pretzel-style before him and placing her bookbag beside her. “Your turn,” her eyebrows raised as she said it. Leighton was being direct because her mother told her to do that. It may sound crazy, but while her mother goes through men like toilet paper, they fall head over heels in love with her for a time.

Spencer didn’t move at first.

He just stood there, back pressed to the wall like maybe it could swallow him whole if he stayed still long enough. Like maybe he could disappear into the cracks of the biography section and avoid the whole fucking mess he'd made.

But Leighton—
God, Leighton.

She sat there, cross-legged on the carpet like she wasn’t afraid of how badly he could still break her. Like she was willing to bleed it out right here if it meant getting the truth.

And the thing was—
She deserved it.
Every word. Every ugly, jagged, uncomfortable part of it.

Spencer scrubbed a hand over his jaw, staring down at her like maybe if he blinked hard enough, she’d vanish. Like maybe if he didn’t answer, he could pretend he hadn’t already destroyed the best thing he’d ever stumbled into by accident.

"You want to know why?" he said finally, voice rough and low enough that it barely made it past the rows of dusty shelves.
"You really want the truth, Leighton?"

He laughed then—a short, humorless thing that cracked on the edges.

"Because I knew I was gonna fuck it up," he said. "I could feel it. Like gravity, or a fucking hurricane coming."
His hands found the pockets of his hoodie, fingers curling into fists. "You looked at me like I was worth something. Like I could be good if I just stayed... and I wanted to. I wanted to be that guy so bad."

He shook his head, staring at the floor now.
"But I’m not. I'm not good, Leighton. I'm just some idiot kid who's better at running than staying. And when it got too real—when it stopped being easy and started feeling like it mattered—I panicked."

Spencer looked up finally, the mask slipping, just enough.
The hollow fear behind his eyes said more than the words ever could.

"I didn't ghost you because I didn't care," he said, voice cracking. "I ghosted you because I cared too fucking much, and it scared the shit out of me."

There it was.
Ugly. Honest. All of it.

And she was still sitting there, watching him, not flinching, not moving, just breathing him in like he hadn’t already torn a hole through the middle of her.

Spencer slid down the wall slowly until he was sitting too, knees bent, elbows resting on them. For a second, it was just the sound of the air conditioning humming overhead. The world felt smaller in that moment, pressed in tight around the two of them.

He picked at a frayed thread on his sleeve.
"When I’m with you... it’s not casual, Leigh. It’s not a joke. It’s not whatever the hell people think high school relationships are supposed to be."

He glanced at her, voice almost a whisper now.
"It's everything."

Silence. Then:

"I’m scared I’m gonna wreck it," he admitted. "Wreck you. And I’d rather have you hate me than watch you stay and regret it."

He didn’t reach for her. Didn’t ask for forgiveness.
Just sat there, broken open and waiting, letting her decide if he was worth salvaging.

Leighton didn’t answer right away.

She didn’t trust her voice—not when her throat felt like it was being squeezed from the inside, not when her heart was sitting in her chest like something cracked and wild.

So she just looked at him.

Really looked.

At the way his shoulders curved like he was still trying to fold into himself. At the twitch of his fingers against the threadbare edge of his sleeve. At the way his eyes didn’t beg for forgiveness—but didn’t run from her either. That might’ve been the worst part. That he didn’t expect her to stay.

“I would’ve rather you told me,” she said quietly. “Even if it was messy. Even if it was ugly.”

Her voice wavered, but she didn’t let it falter. Not now. Not after everything she’d been carrying around like armor and anchor and all the shit she didn’t want to admit had started to feel like love.

“You think I wasn’t scared?” she whispered, eyes locked on his. “Spence, I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to mean it. And you—God, you looked at me like I was real. Like I wasn’t just background noise in my own life.”

She reached for a thread on her knee, twisting it between her fingers like it could hold the whole moment steady.

“I knew you were gonna hurt me,” she confessed, tears pricking but not falling. “I knew it the night you climbed through my window and kissed me like the world was ending. I knew it the morning you didn’t text back. I knew it every time I saw you disappear behind your own eyes.”

A breath. Not quite steady, but honest.

“But I still wanted you.”

She blinked hard, forcing the sting back. “And now I’m sitting here in a fucking library while you tell me I was right—that you broke it before I could even say I loved you.”

The silence cracked between them again, not loud but deep.

And still, she didn’t look away.

“I don’t want perfect, Spencer. I never did. I just wanted you.” Her voice shook then, raw and real and razor sharp. “And you didn’t even give me the chance to stay.”

She let the words sit there, pulsing like something alive in the air between them. Then she pulled her knees up to her chest, chin resting on them, her voice small now.

“So… what do we do with that?”

Spencer stared at her knees tucked to her chest, at the way her fingers gripped the denim like maybe it was the only thing keeping her together.

And he hated himself.
Hated the version of him that put that look on her face.
Hated that somewhere deep down, he believed she was better off without him even as he sat here begging for a reason to stay.

His chest ached so badly it almost made him laugh.
Of course it would come to this.
Of course the one real thing he ever had would be the thing he ruined with his own bare goddamn hands.

"You want to know what we do with it?" he said, voice ragged and raw. "You walk away."

The words sliced out of him before he could catch them.
Before he could stop being the coward he always fucking was.

"You stand up," he said, every word costing him more air than he had to give, "and you go find someone who doesn't make you cry in libraries. Someone who doesn't treat you like a fucking second chance he never deserved in the first place."

He scrubbed both hands over his face, nails digging into his skin like punishment.
"You don’t stay here waiting for me to be someone I don’t even know how to be," he choked out. "You leave."

Silence again.
But this time it was heavier, crueler, bleeding out between them in the empty spaces where hope used to live.

Spencer dropped his hands, finally daring to meet her eyes—and it nearly gutted him.

Because she wasn’t angry.
She wasn’t yelling or throwing things or calling him every name he probably deserved.

She just looked hurt.
Quietly, devastatingly hurt.

And that was worse.
That was so much worse.

His voice cracked again, softer now, like he was already mourning her before she was even gone.
"I love you, Leighton."

The confession barely made it past his lips, fragile and wrecked and clinging to whatever pieces of him were left.

"I love you so much it scares me. It’s fucking ruining me."

A humorless laugh slipped out, broken and breathless.

"And I'm still telling you to go."

He didn’t reach for her.
Didn’t touch her.
Didn’t move.

Because if he did—if he so much as brushed his hand against hers—he knew he’d beg.

And Spencer Walker had hurt her enough.

So he stayed there, sitting against the wall, breathing like it hurt, waiting for the sound of her walking away to tear him in half.

Waiting to finally deserve the loneliness he’d spent his whole damn life bracing for.

Leighton didn’t move.

Not at first.

She just sat there, arms locked around her knees like they were the only thing tethering her to the floor, the only thing keeping her from unraveling in the worst, loudest kind of way.

And she was tired of being loud.
Of screaming for people who didn’t listen.
Of trying to hold on to things that let go first.

But then—then he said that.

And it shattered something in her. Not like glass. Like a dam. Like everything she’d been holding back came flooding to the surface and she couldn’t stop it, couldn’t contain it, couldn’t pretend like it didn’t matter that the boy she loved was too afraid to stay.

“God, Spencer,” she whispered, breath catching halfway out of her throat. “Do you think I want to leave?”

She uncurled slowly, like every inch hurt. Like standing in front of him was both a battle and a surrender.

“I don’t want someone else,” she said, voice shaking. “I chose you. Over and over again, I chose you. Even when you were pulling away. Even when I knew you were scared. Even when you broke my heart in the quietest fucking ways.”

Leighton stepped forward once, then again—until she was close enough to kneel in front of him, not touching, just there. Steady. Solid.

“You think pushing me away is some kind of mercy?” she asked, eyes shining with tears she refused to blink loose. “You don’t get to decide what breaks me. You don’t get to love me and then act like it’s some noble sacrifice to let me go.”

Her hands balled into fists against her jeans again, but she didn’t look away.

“I’m not leaving because you told me to,” she said, calm now. Devastatingly calm. “If I walk away, it’s because you gave up. Not because I wanted to.”

Then—softly, almost too soft—
“And if that’s what you’re really doing… then say it. Look me in the eye and say it. Say you don’t want this. Say you don’t love me. Say I’m not worth staying for.”

Her voice cracked.
But she didn’t.

She just waited. Breath caught in her throat, heart in her hands, holding space for the truth—whatever it turned out to be.

Spencer felt the words before he heard them.

Each one dug under his skin, burrowed into his ribs, twisted somewhere deep and ugly.
Because she meant it.
Every syllable. Every shake in her voice. Every tear she wouldn’t let fall.

And he—

He was wrecked.

Completely, absolutely wrecked.

Because she was still choosing him.
Even now.
Even when he was doing everything short of lighting himself on fire just to make it easier for her to run.

His chest heaved with the effort it took not to break. Not to grab her face and kiss her until she forgot every reason she should hate him. Not to fall apart in the only arms that had ever felt like home.

But that’s exactly why he couldn’t.
Because he would break her.
Maybe not today.
Maybe not tomorrow.
But someday, when the mess inside him won again—
When the weight of being loved by someone like her crushed the version of him that never thought he was enough—
He would shatter it. Shatter her.

And he wouldn't survive watching it happen.

So Spencer did the only thing he knew how to do.
He lied.

Not with rage.
Not with cruelty.
Not even with the sharp, jagged edges he usually wore like armor.

But with something worse.
Something colder.

"I don't want this," he said, the words thick and slow, like they were made of poison.
He forced his eyes to stay on hers, even as every inch of him screamed to look away.

"I don't love you."

It tasted like blood in his mouth.

"You’re not worth it."

The moment the words left him, he knew he was a coward.
A goddamn coward pretending he was doing the right thing.

He watched it happen—the way her face flinched, the way something inside her seemed to fold in on itself—and it felt like setting fire to his own goddamn soul.

But he stayed still.
Frozen.
Breaking inside where she couldn’t see it.

Because if she hated him—
If she walked away angry instead of broken—
Maybe it would hurt her a little less.

Maybe it would save her from the parts of him he couldn't fix.

So he sat there.
Silent.
Motionless.
Watching the best thing that had ever happened to him fall apart, and telling himself it was mercy.

Even when it felt a hell of a lot more like murder.

Leighton didn’t blink.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.

For one perfect, aching second, she just stared at him.

And then—
She laughed.

Soft. Sharp. Disbelieving.
The kind of laugh you only ever hear from someone whose heart just snapped down the middle.

“Wow,” she whispered, nodding slowly like he’d just proven every nightmare she ever had right. “Okay. Okay, Spencer.”

Her voice was thinner now, all the fight bleeding out of it. But she wasn’t crumbling. Not this time.

Because she knew him.

She knew the way his voice always dropped when he was lying. Knew the way he locked his jaw like he was trying to trap the truth behind his teeth. Knew the way he couldn’t meet her eyes when it really mattered—except now, he was forcing himself to. Holding her gaze like a knife.

And God, he really thought he was being noble.

She let out another laugh—hollow this time—and stood, knees shaky, soul worse.

“You almost had me,” she said, not accusing. Just… tired. “For a second, I almost believed you.”

She crossed her arms over her chest—not defensive, just trying to keep the pieces in. The ones he couldn’t see. The ones she didn’t want to leave behind.

“You know what the worst part is?” she asked, stepping back. “I still love you. Even now. Even after that.”

Her voice broke, finally, just once. But she caught it.

“I hope you win, Spencer,” she whispered. “I hope whatever war you’re fighting with yourself—whatever monster told you you’re not allowed to be happy—I hope it dies knowing it cost you everything.”

And then, almost gently:

“You were worth it. You always were.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond.
Didn’t beg him to take it back.
Didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

She just turned.
Walked away.
And let the silence behind her say the rest.

Spencer didn’t move.

Couldn’t.

Not when her laugh was still ringing in his ears.
Not when her words—I hope you win, Spencer—felt like they’d been stitched into his skin with barbed wire.

He sat there, breathing like he’d just been punched, every part of him vibrating with anger he didn’t know where to put.
At himself.
At her.
At the world that somehow gave him something good just to rip it away again.

She was gone.
Actually gone this time.
No slammed doors. No screaming matches. No second chances hiding in the cracks.

And it was his fault.
All of it.

He let out a low, bitter noise—something between a laugh and a growl—and shoved himself off the floor so fast he nearly slipped. His shoulder hit the bookshelf behind him hard enough to rattle it, but he barely felt it.

"Fuck!" he hissed under his breath, dragging both hands through his hair like he could tear the frustration out by the roots.

He kicked the wall once—hard, reckless, stupid—and the hollow thud didn’t even register through the roar in his head.

Because she had looked at him like he was still worth it even after everything.
Even after he handed her every broken piece of himself and called it love.

And she’d walked away with her head high, and he was the one left here—

Pathetic.
Angry.
Alone.

The worst part?
The part that gutted him and made him want to rip the whole damn library apart just to make the ache stop?

He wanted to call after her.

Wanted to run.

Wanted to throw every ugly, selfish instinct to the floor and chase her down the hallway, grab her hand, pull her back and tell her—

I lied.
I’m scared shitless and I love you more than anything and I’m an idiot but please, please don’t go.

But he didn’t.

He stayed frozen in place, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides like maybe if he stayed angry enough, he wouldn’t have to feel the part of him that was crumbling.

Because Spencer Walker didn’t get happy endings.
He got regrets.
He got almosts.
He got to live in the wreckage of what could’ve been.

He slammed his back against the shelf again, harder this time, needing the pain, needing something real.

And then—
When the library swallowed him whole and there was no one left to see how completely he was coming apart—
Spencer slid down the wall and dropped his head into his hands.

Breathing like he was drowning.

Hating himself so much he wasn’t sure he’d ever claw his way back out of it.

Leighton climbed the last rung of the maintenance ladder, nudging the trapdoor open with her shoulder like she’d done a hundred times before. The hinges creaked just enough to let him know it was her.

Spencer didn’t look up.

He didn’t have to.

He was sitting exactly where she knew he’d be—back against the faded brick, legs stretched out in front of him, hoodie strings chewed half to hell. The spot right under the rusted-out vent, where they’d made out after homecoming like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Like maybe it still didn’t.

Leighton stepped out onto the roof, let the door fall shut behind her with a soft thud, and walked over without a word. The sun was too bright and the wind smelled like asphalt and flowers from the science wing garden below, but it didn’t bother her.

Not when he was here.

Not when this place still felt like theirs.

She dropped her backpack between his legs as she sat down beside him, knees pulled up, boots planted firm on the gravel.

Spencer glanced sideways—eyes low-lidded, slow—and held the joint out to her.

She took it with her left hand.

But before he could pull his hand back, she caught it with her right—fingers slipping between his and lacing together like they were made to fit.

No hesitation.

Just muscle memory.

She brought the joint to her mouth, took a couple slow pulls, exhaled out toward the sky. The kind of hit that said I needed this. The kind that settled her ribs a little looser.

She passed it back without looking at him.

Then, after a beat, she leaned her shoulder lightly into his. Still holding his hand. Still quiet.

“You can keep skipping sixth,” she said, voice dry but fond. “But you’re gonna fail, Spence.”

Another puff of wind dragged hair across her cheek. She didn’t brush it away.

“And if you think I’m sitting through summer school with you again just to watch you doodle in the margins and flirt with detention, you’ve got another thing coming.”

But she didn’t let go of his hand.

Didn’t move away.

Just sat there next to him, staring out over the soccer field like it mattered, like the world couldn’t touch them this high up.

Because maybe it couldn’t.

Not here.

Not yet.

Not as long as they kept showing up.

He didn’t look at her when she sat down.

Didn’t need to.

Could feel her like gravity the second the trapdoor creaked open.

Leighton.

The only person in this whole godforsaken school who could tell him he was fucking up without making him want to disappear.

He passed her the joint without a word, let their fingers catch like always—like habit, like muscle memory, like maybe he needed the contact more than he’d admit. And when she kept holding his hand?

Yeah.

That wrecked him a little.

But he didn’t show it.

Didn’t say a damn thing when she leaned her shoulder into his.

Didn’t flinch when she said he was gonna fail.

Because maybe he was.

Maybe he didn’t care.

Or maybe he cared way too much about the wrong shit—Jess skipping econ to race the guys from the auto shop. Sam stealing cafeteria cookies like it was a mission from God. Leighton sitting beside him with her boots dug into the gravel and that fire in her voice when she called him out.

That was the stuff that mattered.

Not chemistry tests or college apps or getting lectured by people who didn’t know the first thing about him.

He exhaled slow, lazy, like the smoke could carry his whole mood with it.

Then he said it.

Low. Flat. Real.

“I’m not doing summer school again.”

Didn’t say for you.
Didn’t say because you’d sit through it with me even if you hated every second.
But it was there.

Right under his tongue.

He rolled his head toward her—just enough to catch a glimpse of her jaw, her hair, the way the sun kissed the side of her face like it knew she was worth worshipping.

Then looked back out over the edge.

His thumb was still moving against her hand.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

“I don’t give a shit about this place,” he muttered. “Never did.”

A beat passed.

Then quieter—

“But I care about you. Jess. Sam.”

Another pause. A shrug, sharp and silent. Like that should be enough.

Like of course that’s all that mattered.

And maybe it was.

Because this?
This roof.
This hand in his.
This girl who still showed up, even when he made it hard?

It was the only part of his day that ever felt real.

So yeah.

He was gonna flunk something eventually. Probably snap at a teacher. Probably smoke too much and show up late and let the world think he didn’t care.

But up here?

With her?

He cared enough to stay.

She didn’t look at him either.

Not right away.

Just let the silence settle.

Let the truth of it sit between them like a third person—loud, unflinching, maybe even a little holy.

Because he never said shit like that. Not out loud. Not unless it was burning a hole in his chest and had nowhere else to go.

So she sat with it.

Let it matter.

Let it mean something.

Her fingers stayed curled through his, thumb brushing once across the back of his hand like punctuation.

Then—quietly, not teasing this time—she said:

“Good.”

A beat.

The kind of breath that was less about air and more about feeling everything all at once.

“‘Cause I swear to God, Spence—if I have to watch you do another packet on ancient Mesopotamia while pretending you’re too cool to care, I’ll walk straight into traffic.”

But her voice was soft around the edges. Almost fond.

Like she wasn’t joking, but she was.

Like she’d do it all again if he asked.

Leighton took another slow drag, exhaled through her nose, watched the smoke drift up toward the clouds they used to name during seventh period psych.

Then, still staring out, she added—

“You don’t have to give a shit about this place.”

She turned to him finally. Just a little. Just enough to meet his eyes.

“But, I’m not letting you skip straight to dropout burnout phase—you don’t even have a tattoo yet.”

Another pause. Her voice dipped lower.

Softer. Real.

“But I’m glad you care about us.”

She gave his hand the gentlest squeeze.

Then she looked away again, leaned back on her other arm like she was trying to play it casual, like the moment wasn’t making her heart beat louder than it had all day.

The sun was high now. The sky was stupidly blue. Someone was blasting music from the art wing window down below, and it bled up into the air around them like an afterthought.

Leighton didn’t move.

Didn’t break the contact.

Just held his hand.

Like always.

Like she wasn’t going anywhere.

“You’re not alone up here, Spencer.”

A whisper, more than a promise.

“Not now. Not ever.”

She didn’t look at him.

Didn’t need to.

And that somehow made it worse.

Because Leighton sitting with it—like his words deserved the space they took up—hit harder than anything she could’ve said.

So he sat too.

Let her fingers stay tangled in his.

Let her thumb brush his skin like it meant something.

Because fuck, it did.

And when she finally answered—soft, sure, that little “Good” carrying more weight than a goddamn graduation speech?

Spencer’s throat got tight.

Stupidly tight.

He stared hard at the soccer field, jaw clenched, trying not to show it. Trying not to let her see how just being seen by her made everything hurt and settle all at once.

Then she dropped the Mesopotamia line and he almost smiled.

Almost.

A huff of breath escaped, nose scrunched, corners of his mouth twitching like he wasn’t ready to give her the full smirk yet but it was fighting its way through.

And then?

Then she turned to him.

Really looked at him.

And said that part about tattoos and burnout and “I’m glad you care about us”—

Yeah.

That one almost knocked the air out of his lungs.

He didn’t flinch.

Didn’t pull away.

But his grip tightened—barely, just enough for her to feel it. Just enough to say I heard you. I feel it too.

Because he did.

More than he could say. More than he knew how to hold.

He let his head fall back against the brick, closed his eyes for a second, let the music from the art wing drift over them like static and memory and every reason he wasn’t completely unraveling right now.

Leighton’s hand stayed in his.

Still warm.

Still there.

Still his.

And when she whispered “You’re not alone up here, Spencer. Not now. Not ever.”

He didn’t say anything.

Just turned his head, eyes opening slowly.

Looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered.

Because she was.

And even if he didn’t say it?

She’d know.

From the way he watched her like she was the only thing worth giving a shit about in a world that kept asking him to be someone else.

From the way he didn’t move.

Didn’t let go.

Didn’t run.

Leighton felt his grip tighten—just a little—but it said everything.

Said I heard you.

Said Don’t stop.

Said You’re the only one who gets it right.

And for a second, she just sat with it. Let the silence settle between them again like a secret only they knew. The hum of the school below, the scrape of sneakers on concrete somewhere near the gym, the warbled music curling up through the vents—it all faded into the background.

She let her thumb brush over the back of his hand one last time.

Then she let go.

Not because she was pulling away.

But because she wasn’t.

Leighton shifted slowly, pulling her knees up for balance as she slid her arm around his shoulders. Not cautious. Not uncertain. Just sure.

Just there.

She tugged him close, tucking him in like muscle memory. Like she’d done it a hundred times before. Like she’d do it a hundred times more.

And when his head tilted toward her shoulder—just slightly, just enough—she let hers rest gently against his.

Not to fix him.

Not to tell him it was okay.

Just to hold what he couldn’t say out loud.

Her voice was soft when it finally came, a murmur tucked into the curve of his ear.

“You don’t have to say it.”

She gave him the tiniest squeeze. Barely a breath. But it was full of everything.

“I already know.”

Leighton felt the way his body leaned into hers—slow, cautious, like he didn’t quite believe he was allowed to.

Like he was still waiting for the sky to fall, even with her arm around him.

So she stayed there.

Close.
Steady.
Silent.

Her left hand, now free from his, drifted down without thinking—fingertips brushing his knuckles, his palm, the curve of his thumb.

She started tracing idle shapes across his skin—lines, circles, loops—anything that might help settle whatever anxiety was still buzzing under the surface.

He was quiet, but she could feel it in him.
The tension.
The war.
The way his shoulders stayed tight, even if he was trying to melt.

So she kept going.

Threaded her fingers through his gently, one by one.
Pressed the pads of her fingers to his like a rhythm.
A pattern.
A promise.

She didn’t look at him when she said it, just let the words fall out soft and certain.

“I’ll do your homework.”

A pause.

Then, with a little more bite—Leighton-style affection disguised as threat:

“And your extra credit. Don’t argue. I’m not letting you miss out on our summer because you were too busy spiraling to pass Mr. C’s joke of a history class.”

Her arm gave the barest tug around his shoulders—closer, tighter, like she could physically pull him out of whatever place his brain was stuck in.

And then, still gentle, still grounding him in every way she knew how—

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Soft.
Certain.
Like it wasn’t the first time she’d done it and sure as hell wouldn’t be the last.

Her hand kept moving across his—calm and deliberate—like she was willing to play with his fingers all damn afternoon if it kept him tethered.

Because if the only way to make the world stop spinning was to hold on tighter?

Then that’s exactly what she’d do.

He didn’t mean to lean into her.

Didn’t mean to let his head tip toward her shoulder or his hand stay palm-up in her lap like some pathetic open metaphor.

But fuck.

It was Leigh.

And she did that thing—slid her arm around him like he hadn’t spent the whole morning convincing himself he didn’t need anybody.

Like she knew he did.

Like she always knew.

The kiss to his head nearly split him open.

Not because it hurt.

Because it didn’t.

Because it was soft.

Because it stayed.

And when she said she’d do his homework—his fucking homework—like it was some kind of lifeline and not a death sentence, he almost laughed.

Almost.

But his throat was too tight and her fingers were tracing little shapes across his hand and all he could think was God, don’t let this go.

He stared out at the sky like it had answers. Like it might tell him what the hell he was supposed to do with someone like her.

Someone who didn’t run.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t give up when he stopped showing up in every other way that counted.

His voice was raw when it finally came out—low, almost a grunt, like dragging it out hurt.

“…You ever think maybe I don’t wanna be fixed?”

He didn’t look at her when he said it.

Couldn’t.

Just stared hard at the horizon like it might swallow him first.

“I’m not some fucking lost puppy, Leigh. I’m not a project.”

A beat.

A breath.

Something soft cracked beneath his ribs and his next words came quieter. Less teeth. More ache.

“I just… don’t know how to do this without fuckin’ it up.”

Another beat. He rolled the joint between his fingers, watching the ash break apart in the wind.

“School. Life. You.”

He let the smoke curl out slow between his lips, staring straight ahead, voice getting softer and softer.

“I care about you so much it makes me sick.”

That part?

He didn’t take back.

Didn’t hide.

Just let it sit there.

Heavy. Unwrapped. True.

His fingers twitched slightly in hers, like maybe he wanted to pull away but didn’t know how to survive it if he did.

So he didn’t.

He just stayed.

Quiet.

Unraveling.

And hers.

Leighton didn’t flinch.

Didn’t rush in to argue or drown the silence in reassurances.

She just… stayed.

Stayed with his words.

Stayed with the weight of them.

Stayed with him.

Her fingers stilled on his for a second—just a beat—but then they started again, softer now. Slower. Drawing little loops across the back of his hand like maybe she could trace the ache right out of him.

When she finally spoke, her voice was low. Unshaken. Clear.

“Spence.”

Not sharp.

Not scolding.

Just real.

Like she knew how close he was to bolting. How much it took for him to even say that out loud.

Her hand tightened around his—gentle, firm, like an anchor.

“I don’t want to fix you.”

She let it hang there.

Let it land.

Then leaned in, her shoulder pressing warmer against his, like she was trying to close every gap he left between them.

“I just wanna be here. When you let me.”

A pause.

A breath.

Her voice stayed soft, but it didn’t shake.

“And for the record? You haven’t fucked it up.”

She glanced sideways—not enough to make him flinch, just enough to let him know she saw him.

All of him.

“You showed up.”

Another beat. A ghost of a smile tugged at her lips, sad and solid all at once.

“That’s more than most people ever do.”

She let her head tilt toward his just slightly, forehead nearly brushing his temple.

“You don’t have to know how to do this,” she whispered. “Not with me.”

Then, quieter—

“I’m not asking you to be anything but here.”

Her thumb moved again across his hand.

Soft.

Steady.

Real.

And after a long pause—long enough for the breeze to lift the smoke and the rooftop to go quiet again—she added, like it was the simplest truth in the world:

“I care about you too.”

And she meant it.

Every cracked, terrified, unraveling inch of him.

She didn’t pull away.

Didn’t let go.

She just stayed.

Leighton didn’t say anything else.

Didn’t push him to look at her.

Didn’t argue with the way his voice cracked around words like fixed or fuck it up.

She just sat with it.

Held it for a little while longer.

Then—without warning—she let his hand slip from hers.

She moved gently, slowly, deliberately.

Not in anger.

Not even in sadness.

Just something else.

A quiet sort of pause, like she was setting the moment down to see what he’d do with it.

She rose to her feet without looking at him, brushing her hands off on the sides of her jeans, the gravel under her boots shifting soft as she stepped away.

Her back was to him before he could stop it.

Not far.

Just… enough.

Enough space to breathe.

Enough space to leave, if he wanted to.

She walked toward the far edge of the roof—the same spot where they used to sit freshman year and watch the football games, pretending they weren’t just kids trying to survive each week. The wind tugged at her shirt, her hair.

She wrapped her arms around her middle, exhaling slow.

Didn’t look back at him.

Not yet.

She stared out at the quad below—the noise of lunch period, the blur of backpacks and bad cafeteria food and someone blasting music on a cracked speaker. It all felt distant. Like a different world.

Then, still facing away, she said it low—barely above the wind:

“I’m not gonna stand in your way if you want space.”

Her voice wasn’t cold.

It was quiet. Measured. Careful in the way only Leighton could be when she was breaking her own heart just a little.

“I meant what I said. I don’t wanna fix you.”

A pause.

Her fingers curled tighter around her elbows.

“I just don’t know if staying’s what you want. Or if you’re just waiting for me to leave so you don’t have to be the one to do it.”

She let the words hang there, raw and naked in the breeze.

Not accusing.

Not begging.

Just true.

And still… she didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t look at him.

She just stood at the edge of the roof—right where they made out after that first homecoming, where she swore she’d never let anyone get that close again—and waited.

Not for a grand gesture.

Not for an apology.

Just… for him.