Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The air in Clearwater always sticks to you—warm, heavy, salty. Even away from the beach, it’s there, like the ocean’s always following close behind.

By the time I pulled into the Raeken driveway, my shirt was sticking to my back from the walk up. Their place looked the same as ever: white walls, wide windows, red tiles catching the sun. Adrianna had texted me “don’t be late or else” about ten minutes earlier, which didn’t mean anything except that she wanted material to mess with me about.

I knocked once before the door flew open. Adrianna Raeken stood there, pencil behind her ear, hair in a messy bun, smirk already locked in.

“You’re late,” she said.

I held up my phone. “It’s 4:31.”

“Exactly.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So by your logic, I’m supposed to show up early just to be on time?”

“Finally, you’re catching on,” she said, stepping back to let me in.

I laughed, dropping my backpack on one of the kitchen stools. Their house was cool and spotless, every countertop gleaming like someone had been polishing it an hour ago. My place wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t this… precise either. My mom liked things to look lived in, like a home, not a furniture ad.

Adrianna had her notebooks sprawled across the counter already. “We’re starting with government.”

“Of course we are,” I said, sliding onto the stool. “Because nothing screams ‘fun Friday afternoon’ like federalism.”

“You’re welcome,” she said sweetly.

We weren’t even five minutes in before a voice cut through from the hallway.

“Wow. Didn’t realize this was a study group.”

Theo Raeken strolled in, barefoot, hair still damp from a shower, basketball shorts hanging loose. He had a glass of water in one hand and leaned against the fridge like he had nothing better to do. His eyes flicked from Adrianna to me.

“It’s called homework,” Adrianna said without looking up.

“Same thing,” Theo said, smirking. He cracked open the fridge and grabbed another water, twisting the cap as his gaze landed on me. “What’s up, Liam Dunbar?”

“Not failing government, hopefully,” I said.

Theo’s smirk widened for half a second. “Ambitious.”

Adrianna gave him a look. “Don’t you have literally anything better to do?”

“I do,” Theo said, but stayed leaning there like the kitchen was his stage.

I snorted. “You’re really committed to doing nothing.”

He pointed his water bottle at me. “Takes talent.”

Adrianna groaned. “Can you not annoy my study partner for once?”

Theo finally pushed off the counter. “Fine. Just don’t let her boss you around too much, Liam.”

“Yeah, thanks for the heads-up,” I said.

He wandered off, the TV flipping on a few seconds later. Adrianna muttered something under her breath but couldn’t stop grinning.

“Brothers,” she said like it was a disease.

A little later, Mrs. Raeken’s voice called from the hallway: “Dinner in an hour!”

“Okay!” Adrianna shouted back. She looked at me. “You’re staying.”

I held up my hands. “I didn’t—”

“You’re staying,” she said flatly. “No take-backs.”

I rolled my eyes. “Wow. Thanks for the choice.”

“You’re welcome.”

A few minutes later, Mr. Raeken came through the door, pulling off his tie. “Evening, Liam,” he said warmly.

“Hi, Mr. Raeken.”

He pointed at Adrianna. “She keeping you focused?”

“Barely,” I said.

“Funny,” Adrianna muttered.

He chuckled and disappeared upstairs.

Dinner ended up being grilled fish with lemon, salad, and bread that smelled like heaven. I tried to say I didn’t want to intrude, but Mrs. Raeken waved me into a seat like she’d already set a place for me.

“So, Liam,” she asked, handing me the salad, “how’s school this year?”

“Good. Busy,” I said.

“Busy?” Adrianna groaned. “We’ve had like, what, three projects?”

“Three too many,” I said, and Adrianna pointed at me like I’d just proved her case.

Theo chuckled from across the table. “You two are dramatic.”

“Not dramatic. Honest,” Adrianna shot back.

Mr. Raeken shook his head. “You two could argue with a stop sign.”

The rest of dinner was easy. The Raekens always had this warm, loud energy at the table—little jokes, quick comebacks, everyone comfortable. I mostly listened, but it never felt awkward.

At one point, Theo looked over at me. “You still swimming a lot?”

“Yeah,” I said, a little surprised he remembered. “Pretty much every weekend.”

“Clearwater Beach?”

“Sometimes. Sand Key, too. Depends.”

He nodded, sipping his water. “We should all go sometime.”

“Not if you’re gonna drag half the sand home again,” Adrianna said.

Theo gave her a look, but his smile gave him away.

After dinner, Adrianna and I set back up at the counter with our math homework. Theo stayed behind to help his mom with dishes, the sound of plates and low voices carrying from the kitchen.

“You screwed up step three,” Adrianna said, leaning over my shoulder.

“Thanks for the positivity,” I said.

She corrected it with a quick swipe of her pencil. “That’s why I’m here.”

I twirled my pen, listening to Theo laugh quietly at something his mom said.

The house felt alive—TV murmuring in the other room, soap and lemon drifting from the sink, ocean breeze sneaking through the window.

For once, I wasn’t in a hurry to leave.

Chapter Text

Sunny Side High always smelled like chlorine. Not because of the pool—we weren’t lucky enough to have one—but because of the janitors. They cleaned everything with some mystery chemical that burned your nose and made the hallways feel like a giant YMCA locker room.

I was already sweating by the time I made it to second period. Clearwater heat didn’t care if you were dressed for school or the beach—it melted you either way. My shirt clung annoyingly to my back, and my pulse thudded harder than it should’ve from just walking across campus. I slid into my seat, dropping my backpack with a thud and wiping the back of my neck with my sleeve.

Adrianna sat two rows ahead, already pulling notebooks out of her bag. She looked back at me and smirked. “You look like you ran here.”

“I basically did,” I said, leaning back in my chair, trying to slow my breathing without making it obvious. “The AC in this place is a scam.”

“You’re just dramatic.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the sound of another chair scraping beside me made me glance over. And there he was.

Theo Raeken.

He dropped into the seat like he’d been sitting there all year, sliding his binder onto the desk with one hand, water bottle with the other. His eyes flicked toward me. For a second, his gaze seemed a little far-off, like he’d been somewhere else entirely before he locked back in on the room.

“Hey,” he said.

“Uh—hey,” I answered, trying not to sound caught off guard.

We weren’t usually in the same classes. In fact, I was pretty sure this was the first time. Maybe our schedules had finally collided.

Theo leaned back, casual as always. “Didn’t know you had government second period.”

“Didn’t know you had it either.”

He smiled faintly, like that was the exact response he’d expected.

The teacher started droning about the branches of government, but no one was paying attention. Pens clicked, phones hid under desks, someone in the back coughed loud enough to set off a ripple of snickers. I tapped my pencil against my notebook, more focused on keeping myself awake than separating judicial from legislative.

Theo leaned closer, voice low. “You always this restless in class?”

I smirked. “You always this nosy?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners, like he was holding back a laugh. For a second, he blinked slow, almost too long, like he’d zoned out before snapping back with a quiet, “Touché.”

I went back to pretending to take notes, but his presence was distracting. Not in a bad way—just… different. I’d known him forever, but this was the first time he’d actually felt close, like we were sharing a space instead of just orbiting the same people.

Halfway through the period, when the teacher started passing out worksheets, Theo tilted his head toward me. “You ever notice how half this class is asleep?”

“Can you blame them?” I whispered back. “This is, like, the verbal equivalent of NyQuil.”

That got him to laugh—a real laugh, quiet but sharp. He shook his head, scribbling something on his paper. A moment later, he slid it across my desk.

It was a doodle: a stick figure slumped over a desk with Z’s floating above it. He’d labeled it me in five minutes.

I snorted and grabbed his pen, adding another stick figure poking the first one with a pencil. Underneath, I wrote: me keeping you awake.

He glanced at it, and his mouth twitched into another grin. “Heroic,” he whispered.

We fell into an easy rhythm after that—passing dumb doodles, whispering sarcastic commentary whenever the teacher said something particularly boring. Sometimes his hand would pause over the page, like he’d lost track of where he was mid-thought, then pick right back up again. It wasn’t much, but it was… fun. Like maybe we weren’t just acquaintances anymore.

When the bell finally rang, the class surged toward the door like a stampede. Adrianna caught up with us in the hallway, sliding her bag onto her shoulder.

“Wow, look at you two,” she said, eyes flicking between us. “Best buds already.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Don’t start.”

I smirked. “She’s jealous. We’re cooler without her.”

Adrianna gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? I made this friendship happen.”

“You also nearly failed that worksheet,” Theo said, deadpan.

Her jaw dropped. “You’re supposed to be supportive.”

“I am. Supportive of reality.”

She swatted his arm, and he chuckled, ducking past her as we moved toward the cafeteria.

At lunch, I ended up sitting with both of them—something I didn’t usually do. Adrianna had her whole group of friends, and Theo had his, but today, we somehow landed at the same table.

Conversation bounced around—jokes, complaints about homework, gossip about some couple who got caught making out in the stairwell. I mostly listened, chiming in when it fit, though my chest still felt like it was working harder than normal from the walk across campus. I caught Theo watching me once or twice. Not in a weird way—just curious, his gaze flicking in and out like maybe his focus wavered before locking back in.

When the table cleared out, Adrianna got pulled away by one of her friends, leaving me and Theo with the last of the french fries. He pushed the tray toward me.

“You want the rest?”

I shook my head. “Go for it.”

He popped one in his mouth, chewed, then said, “You know, I never noticed your freckles before.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “…Okay?”

“They’re kinda cute.” His tone was casual, like he was just pointing out the weather, but his eyes stayed on me a second too long.

I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s your opening line? Really?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He smirked, leaning back in his chair, shoulders loose like he hadn’t just said something that threw me completely off balance.

I rolled my eyes, but my face felt hotter than it should’ve in an already overheated cafeteria.

Before I could come up with a comeback, Adrianna swooped back in, dropping into her seat like nothing had happened. Theo just popped another fry in his mouth, perfectly calm, like he hadn’t just rattled me without even trying.

Adrianna returned mid-sentence about some drama on the soccer team, her tray clattering against the table. She launched straight into it, barely noticing the way I shoved a fry into my mouth just to avoid saying anything.

Theo, of course, looked perfectly unbothered. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, the picture of someone who didn’t just casually drop compliments like they were nothing.

I tried not to think about it. I really did.

“Are you even listening?” Adrianna snapped her fingers in front of my face.

“Totally,” I said. “Something about… soccer balls?”

She groaned. “Useless.”

Theo grinned. “He’s honest, at least.”

I kicked him lightly under the table. He kicked back.

Adrianna narrowed her eyes at both of us. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” we said in unison.

She muttered something about boys being insufferable and dug into her salad, and I exchanged a quick glance with Theo. For a split second, he looked like he was trying not to laugh. I couldn’t help smiling, either.

The bell eventually rang, pulling everyone toward their next class. Adrianna darted off to catch her friends, leaving me and Theo heading in the same direction down the hallway.

“You’ve got math next, right?” he asked.

“Unfortunately.”

“Same.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, shoulders loose as we wove through the crowd. “You any good at it?”

I snorted. “Define ‘good.’”

He smirked. “As in… you won’t drag me down if we get partnered up?”

“Wow. The faith you have in me is inspiring.”

“Just being realistic.”

I bumped his shoulder lightly. “Relax. I’ll carry us both.”

He arched a brow, like he wasn’t sure if I was serious or not, then laughed under his breath.

Math class wasn’t much better than government. The teacher handed out a packet that looked like it had been photocopied since the 80s, all grainy text and crooked equations. My brain hurt just glancing at it.

When she told us to pair up, Theo glanced my way immediately. “Guess you’re stuck with me, Dunbar.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered, dragging my desk closer.

We worked through the problems—well, mostly I worked while he leaned on one elbow, watching. He wasn’t dumb; he just had that kind of confidence that made it seem like he didn’t care whether he got the right answer or not.

At one point, he scribbled something on the margin of my paper and slid it over.

It wasn’t math—it was a terrible drawing of me with crossed eyes and steam coming out of my ears. He’d labeled it Liam vs. Algebra.

I bit back a laugh and shook my head. “You’re useless.”

“Entertaining, though,” he said, smirking.

“Barely.”

We didn’t finish the packet, but when the bell rang, neither of us seemed to care. As we filed out, Theo fell into step beside me again.

“You’re not as boring as I thought you’d be,” he said casually.

I gave him a look. “That’s your version of a compliment?”

“Hey, it’s high praise.”

“Guess I’ll try not to cry tears of joy.”

His grin widened, and for a second, it felt easy—like this was something we’d been doing forever.

Outside, the Florida sun hit us like a wall of heat. Students spilled across the parking lot, car doors slamming, buses rumbling to life. Adrianna was already halfway to the junior lot, waving goodbye.

Theo shoved his backpack higher on his shoulder. “See you tomorrow?”

“Unless I suddenly drop out,” I said.

He chuckled. “Don’t tempt me. That’d make math way less tolerable.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself, and we split off in different directions.

That night, lying in bed with the ceiling fan buzzing overhead, I thought about the way he’d said it—the freckles comment, the smile afterward, like he knew exactly how to throw me off balance.

I told myself it didn’t mean anything.

But I couldn’t stop replaying it anyway.

Chapter Text

Staying home from school sounded great in theory. No waking up at six a.m., no lugging my backpack across Clearwater’s boiling sidewalks, no trying to stay awake through government lectures. But staying home because your heart decided to throw a tantrum? Not so fun.

My mom hovered like she was auditioning for the role of overprotective nurse, which—let’s be real—she already had locked down. After the episode, my cardiologist had switched me to a stronger round of meds that left me wiped, like my chest was working harder even while I was just sitting still. Mom insisted I stay in pajamas, rest on the couch, and drink tea that tasted like boiled lawn clippings.

I wasn’t about to fight her. My body already had. And lost.

By the third day, though, I was itching for something—anything—that wasn’t daytime TV or the sound of my mom sighing every time I coughed.

So when the doorbell rang, I shuffled over in socks, dragging the blanket I’d wrapped around myself like a cape. My hair stuck up in about four different directions, my shirt was one I’d outgrown two summers ago, and I was ninety percent sure I had crumbs stuck to me from the bowl of Cheerios I’d tried eating earlier.

I opened the door. And immediately wanted to slam it shut.

Theo Raeken stood on my porch, holding a couple notebooks under one arm and a takeout bag in the other.

“Dunbar,” he said, smirking like the universe had just handed him a gift.

I blinked at him, my brain too slow to catch up. “What are you—”

He pointed to my cheek. “You, uh… got something.”

Before I could react, he reached out and swiped his thumb just beside my lip. He held it up. A Cheerio.

I groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Theo’s grin widened. “Breakfast of champions. Still eating in bed, huh?”

“Not bed. Couch,” I muttered, trying to flatten my hair with one hand. “And what are you doing here?”

“Delivery boy.” He lifted the bag. “Soup. Courtesy of your sister, who didn’t have time to swing by before work. Oh, and homework, since apparently you’re on death’s door or whatever.”

I stepped aside reluctantly. “My mom’s out getting groceries, so you’re lucky. Otherwise she’d rope you into reorganizing the spice cabinet or something.”

Theo walked in like he owned the place, dropping the notebooks on the coffee table. His eyes wandered around the living room, taking in the plants, the mismatched throw pillows, the framed photos of beach trips and holidays. “Huh,” he said, voice amused. “This is… hippie chic.”

I raised a brow. “That’s your professional design opinion?”

“Don’t get me wrong.” He smirked, toeing off his shoes. “It’s nice. Just… very you. Or, I guess, very your mom. Free spirit vibes. Do you guys burn incense too?”

I laughed, which came out rougher than I meant it to, ending in a cough. I covered my mouth, wincing.

Theo arched a brow. “Wow. You really are sick.”

“Don’t sound so delighted about it.”

“Not delighted. Just… surprised you didn’t milk it harder. Could’ve gotten Adrianna to do all your chores.”

“Trust me, she wouldn’t. She’d use it as an excuse to take mine and double them.”

Theo chuckled, setting the soup bag down in the kitchen before returning. “Alright, Cinderella. Sit. I’ll handle this.”

I blinked at him. “You’re seriously about to play nurse?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just don’t want Adrianna yelling at me for letting you starve.” He waved me toward the couch. “Sit. Blanket. Quiet.”

With a dramatic sigh, I flopped back onto the cushions, tugging the blanket up like I was auditioning for a Victorian fainting scene. Theo disappeared into the kitchen, clattering around until the microwave hummed. A minute later, he came back balancing a steaming container and two spoons.

He plopped down beside me, close enough that I could smell the faint mix of laundry detergent and whatever cologne he wore. He handed me a spoon.

“Eat. Or I’ll feed you myself.”

I made a face. “Threatening.”

“Effective,” he shot back, grinning.

I took a bite just to shut him up. The soup wasn’t bad—chicken noodle, warm enough to settle my chest a little. We ate in silence for a few minutes, the TV murmuring some rerun neither of us cared about.

Theo eventually nudged my leg with his knee. “So… you gonna show me these legendary notes you’ve been taking? Or should I just guess my way through government?”

I rolled my eyes, reaching for the notebooks. “Legendary? More like half-legible.”

“Perfect. Matches my handwriting.”

I flipped one open, sliding it toward him. Our fingers brushed for half a second, and I pretended not to notice.

We went through the pages together, him asking questions, me translating my chicken scratch into something resembling sense. Every so often, his focus seemed to flicker, like he zoned out mid-sentence before snapping back with a quick joke or smirk to cover it. I didn’t mention it. Everyone had their quirks.

By the time the soup was gone, we’d managed to turn homework into half a comedy routine—him making sarcastic comments about the Founding Fathers, me trying not to laugh hard enough to start coughing again.

Eventually, Theo leaned back, stretching his arms over the couch. “Not bad for a sick day. Soup, notes, quality company.”

“Quality?” I repeated.

“Don’t argue. It ruins the compliment.”

I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but I made you laugh. That’s a win.”

Before I could respond, he stood, gathering the empty container and his notebooks. “Alright, Dunbar. Mission accomplished. You live to fight another day.”

I watched him head toward the door, trying not to look as disappointed as I felt at the thought of the house going quiet again.

“Hey,” I said before he stepped out. “Thanks. For… you know. Soup. Homework. Not mocking me too much.”

Theo’s grin softened into something smaller, less sharp. “Anytime.”

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

I sank back into the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around me. My chest still felt heavy, my body still tired. But for the first time all week, I didn’t feel completely stuck.

Maybe having Theo Raeken show up at your door wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Chapter Text

The school hallways always felt different after hours—quieter, like someone had hit mute on the chaos that usually filled them. Locker doors stayed shut, the echo of footsteps stretched longer, and the fluorescent lights buzzed like they were the only things alive.

I’d just finished a tutoring session, binder stuffed with math problems that still made my brain itch, and I was more than ready to get home. Theo Raeken was a couple hallways over, his hair still damp from swim practice, a duffel bag slung casually over his shoulder. Somehow, we hit the elevator button at the exact same time.

He gave me one of those half-smirks when the doors slid open. “Guess we’re heading down together, Dunbar.”

“Lucky me,” I said, but it came out lighter than it would’ve a month ago.

We stepped inside, the metal doors closing with their usual groan. I leaned against the wall, letting the strap of my backpack dig into my shoulder. Theo set his bag down with a thud, running a hand through his wet hair. He looked relaxed, the kind of relaxed I could never pull off even when I tried.

Halfway down, the elevator gave a sharp lurch.

Then it stopped.

The light above the door flickered once, twice, and then steadied.

Theo raised his eyebrows. “That’s… not ideal.”

I swallowed, hard. My chest tightened—not just from the sudden stop, but from the way the walls seemed a little too close now.

I forced out a laugh that came out shaky. “Yeah, this is totally how I wanted to end my day.”

Theo pulled out his phone, already checking bars. “Service is trash. Figures.” He leaned against the wall like it was no big deal, thumb tapping the screen.

Meanwhile, my heartbeat was doing double-time, faster than it should’ve been for standing still. My palms felt clammy, my breath shallow.

Theo noticed. His eyes flicked up from his phone. “You good?”

I pressed the heel of my hand against my chest, willing my lungs to pull in more air. “Uh—” I tried to play it off, but the words came out before I could stop them. “Is now a bad time to tell you I’m claustrophobic?”

Theo blinked, then let out a short laugh. “Ah, jeez, man. You better not throw up on me or I’ll punch you.”

I gave him a weak glare. “Super comforting, thanks.”

He straightened, the smirk softening. “Kidding. Relax. We’ll be out of here in no time.”

Easy for him to say. The walls felt like they were shrinking, my chest felt heavy, and my brain kept cycling through worst-case scenarios.

Theo set his phone down and crouched in front of me, like lowering himself to my level might help. “Hey, look at me for a sec.”

I did, reluctantly.

“You’re fine. I mean, yeah, the elevator’s a piece of junk, but we’re not about to plummet to our deaths. Worst case, we sit here until someone notices.”

“That’s… supposed to make me feel better?” I asked, my voice thinner than I wanted.

His mouth quirked. “Okay, new plan.” He hesitated, then said, “I read somewhere that if someone’s panicking, you’ve gotta shock their brain into focusing on something else.”

Before I could ask what that meant, he reached out and grabbed my hand.

The touch startled me enough that my brain short-circuited, blinking away from the tight walls and focusing instead on the warm press of his palm against mine.

“See?” Theo said, like it was no big deal. “Now you’re thinking about how weird this is instead of freaking out.”

I stared at him. “This is your scientific method? Handholding?”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

I wanted to argue, but my pulse had slowed—just a little. My breathing wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t as shallow as it had been either. I hated that he was right.

We sat like that for a while, both of us leaning against opposite walls but connected by our joined hands in the middle. Every time the silence stretched too long, Theo would make some dumb comment, like:

“So, when we get rescued, do you think they’ll bring us snacks? Because I skipped dinner for practice, and I’m starving.”

I snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll lower down a pizza on a rope.”

“Dream big, Dunbar.”

Eventually, the emergency phone crackled, and someone told us a maintenance guy was on his way. It still took another half-hour, but by then, the panic had dulled into something quieter. Mostly because Theo kept talking—nonsense, jokes, even a story about how one of his teammates accidentally dove into the pool during a fire drill.

When the doors finally groaned open, light spilling in from the hallway, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Theo stood, pulling me up by the hand he still hadn’t let go of. “We never speak of this again, okay?”

I smirked weakly. “Deal.”

By the time we stepped outside, the buses were long gone. The sky was painted orange and pink, the parking lot mostly empty except for a handful of cars.

I hitched my backpack higher on my shoulder. “Guess I’m walking.”

Theo gave me a look. “You’re kidding. Beacon Hills isn’t exactly a five-minute stroll.”

“I’ve done it before.” Not often, but still.

He shook his head, already unlocking his car. The tan Mercedes Benz SL63 Cabrio gleamed under the streetlights like it had rolled straight out of a commercial. “Get in. I’ll drive you.”

“I can just—”

“Dunbar, don’t argue. My car’s right here.”

I hesitated, glancing at the sleek leather seats as he tossed his duffel into the back. My beat-up blue Vespa felt like a toy compared to this thing.

Theo smirked when he caught me staring. “Try not to drool on the upholstery.”

I rolled my eyes but climbed in. The interior smelled faintly of chlorine and his cologne, sharp and clean. The engine purred to life when he started it, smooth in a way my Vespa could never dream of being.

As he pulled out of the lot, I leaned back, trying to shake the leftover tension from the elevator. A faint dizziness pressed at the edges of my vision, the kind that made me focus harder on the hum of the engine and the way the night air streamed in through the cracked window.

“You ever gonna drive that scooter of yours again?” Theo asked casually.

“My mom freaks out every time I even mention it.”

He laughed. “Figures. You don’t exactly scream ‘motorcycle gang.’”

“It’s a Vespa.”

“Exactly my point.”

We bickered the whole way—about his terrible taste in music, about my Vespa vs. his car, about whether pineapple belonged on pizza. For once, it wasn’t exhausting. It was easy.

When he finally pulled up to my house, the porch light flicked on automatically. Theo leaned on the steering wheel, smirking.

“Survived an elevator crisis and a ride with me in one night. Pretty impressive, Dunbar.”

I snorted. “Yeah, thanks for not letting me hyperventilate to death.”

“Anytime,” he said, and I could tell he actually meant it.

I climbed out, the cool night air hitting my face. He gave me a lazy two-finger salute before driving off, the taillights glowing red as they disappeared down the street.

Inside, I leaned against the door for a second, heart still racing—not from the claustrophobia this time, but from something I didn’t really want to name yet.

Chapter Text

Spring break was supposed to mean freedom. For most people, it was beaches, bonfires, and forgetting homework even existed. For me, it meant getting shipped off like luggage.

My parents had come up with their brilliant plan a few weeks ago. Mom was heading out west for some spiritual retreat in Sedona. A week of “rebalancing her vibrations,” or whatever. Dad had business in Chicago, which was just another way of saying he’d be gone as usual. That left our house empty—prime real estate for tourists during spring break in Florida. So they decided to rent it out.

That left me.

Their solution? North Carolina. My aunt’s place. Two bratty little cousins who thought screaming was a sport and slime was a personality. I could already hear the Nerf guns firing in my nightmares.

So when I sat in the Raekens’ living room that afternoon, explaining all of this, my voice came out flat, resigned. Adrianna was on the couch across from me, painting her toenails some shade of bubblegum pink. Theo leaned against the arm of a chair like he owned the place—which, technically, he sort of did. Mr. and Mrs. Raeken sat on the other couch, sipping coffee like it was Sunday brunch.

“…So yeah,” I finished, rubbing at the back of my neck. “They’re renting the house out, and I’m stuck going to my aunt’s. For the whole week.”

Adrianna wrinkled her nose. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard. Your aunt’s kids are, like, feral.”

I huffed a laugh. “They’re… energetic.”

Theo smirked, his eyes flicked up at me. “So you’d rather spend spring break with Nerf warfare than, I don’t know, actual fun?”

I shrugged. “Not like I have much of a choice.”

“Why not?” Adrianna asked, like the idea had just popped into her head. She set the polish brush down and grinned. “Stay here.”

The words landed so casually, like they weren’t about to tilt my whole world on its side.

I blinked. “Here? At your house?”

“Yes!” She gestured at her family, then at me. “Why not? It makes way more sense. You’d have fun, you wouldn’t be babysitting, and you’re basically here all the time anyway. Right, Theo?”

Theo’s smirk softened into something that looked suspiciously like agreement. “Could be worse. Way worse.”

I wanted to laugh, but my stomach twisted instead. “My parents would never…”

“Leave that to us,” Adrianna said confidently, like she had already signed the paperwork. “Seriously. It’s perfect.”

For a second, I thought she was just joking, but then I saw the way Mrs. Raeken was smiling at me. It was warm, reassuring—like she’d already decided this was a good idea.

“It’s not the craziest plan,” Mr. Raeken added.

My face heated. “I don’t want to impose—”

“You wouldn’t be imposing,” Mrs. Raeken cut in, her voice kind. “We’d be happy to have you here, Liam. Truly. I’d feel better knowing you were with us than being shipped off somewhere that doesn’t feel like home.”

Something caught in my throat at that. Home. I didn’t let the word linger too long.

Mr. Raeken set his mug down. “I’ll give your dad a call later. We’ll work it out.”

It was so simple, the way he said it. Like it wasn’t this huge, impossible thing.

I forced a smile. “You’d really… do that?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Raeken said.

Adrianna clapped her hands, grinning like she’d just solved world peace. “See? Settled. You’re staying.”

Theo looked at me again, and this time, he didn’t say anything. Just held my gaze for a second. But the look said enough.

Maybe you belong here.

Later, I texted Mom: Adrianna’s family offered for me to stay with them. Mr. Raeken’s going to call Dad. Is that okay with you?

The reply came fast, a string of messages: If you’re comfortable with it, I’m comfortable with it. Thank the Raekens for me. This might actually be perfect.

Perfect. The word echoed, sharp in my chest. I wasn’t sure anything in my life had ever really been perfect. But maybe this was close.

Adrianna was already rattling off plans—beach trips, late-night movies, maybe even a theme park. Theo groaned about being dragged along but didn’t actually say no.

I leaned back into the couch, letting their voices wash over me. My heart gave a little stuttery ache, the kind that came sometimes when I let myself get too worked up, too excited. I breathed carefully, willing it to even out before anyone noticed.

It passed, leaving behind that shaky kind of tired that always followed. I curled my fingers against my jeans and forced a small smile.

Theo nudged my shoulder with his elbow. “Better than Nerf guns, huh?”

I let out a real laugh this time. “Way better.”

And for the first time in weeks, I actually believed it.

Later – Adrianna’s Room

Adrianna’s room looked like a hurricane of glitter and magazines had swept through it, but somehow, it worked. Posters were taped slightly crooked on the walls, clothes draped across her desk chair, and fairy lights tangled around her headboard.

She plopped onto her bed, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest. “Okay. Be honest. You’re relieved, right? Because if I saved you from your cousins, you kind of owe me for life.”

I sat cross-legged at the end of her bed, leaning back against the wall. “Relieved might be an understatement.”

She grinned knowingly. “That’s what I thought.”

I glanced around her room, suddenly aware of how comfortable it felt being here, even though technically, I was still the guest. “Your parents didn’t even hesitate.”

“They like you, Liam.” Adrianna shrugged. “Honestly, Mom thinks you’re polite and Dad thinks you’re responsible. Compared to Theo? You’re basically a saint.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “That’s not saying much.”

“Still true.”

She studied me for a moment, her grin turning sly. “Speaking of Theo…”

I groaned. “Here we go.”

“What? I’m just saying—he didn’t even make a joke when I suggested you stay. Normally he’d be a sarcastic nightmare about stuff like that. But with you? He was all… agreeable.”

“Maybe he was just tired from swim practice,” I muttered, but even to me, it sounded weak.

Adrianna raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

I threw one of her pillows at her, which she caught, laughing.

For a moment, it felt like everything was simple—just me and Adrianna joking around, the weight in my chest a little lighter than usual. But then the tiredness crept back in, that bone-deep kind that made me want to curl up and shut my eyes.

I shifted against the wall, hoping she didn’t notice how heavy my eyelids felt.

“You okay?” she asked suddenly, more serious now.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah. Just… long day.”

She gave me a look, like she didn’t totally buy it, but she didn’t press either. Instead, she said, “Well, good thing you’re staying here. We’ve got Netflix, snacks, and no screaming cousins. Basically heaven.”

I smiled faintly. “Yeah. Heaven.”

And lying there, listening to Adrianna ramble about her spring break plans, I realized—for the first time in a long time—I actually wanted to stay.

Chapter Text

The school fair was one of those events everyone hyped up like it was some epic adventure, even though it was really just a fundraiser disguised as a glittering chaos of rides, games, and sugar. The air smelled like fried dough and caramel, and the chatter of students mixed with the occasional scream from the rides to create a symphony of chaos I was already halfway in love with.

Adrianna had dragged me here, practically bouncing on her heels like someone had sprinkled caffeine in her shoes. “Alright, losers,” she said, tugging her ponytail and smoothing down her shirt. “I’m off to my shift at the kissing booth. Have fun without me!”

I glanced at Theo, incredulous. “Wait, what? We literally just got here,” I protested, watching her weave through the crowd.

Theo gave me a look that was half amusement, half ‘good luck handling this on your own.’

He didn’t even look annoyed. He just pulled his phone from his pocket and started walking, long strides eating up the space between us. I hurried after him, dodging a cluster of freshman running with glow sticks.

“Stop following me like a lost puppy,” he said without lifting his eyes from the screen. His tone was teasing, light, but I could hear the hint of a grin in his voice.

“I’m not following you!” I called back, even though my sneakers were keeping pace perfectly with his. “We just happen to be going the same way.”

He gave a short, playful hum. “Oh, totally. Pure coincidence.”

“Exactly,” I said, trying to look casual, though my heart was doing little flips just because we were here, together.

The truth was, I had no clue where he was headed, but being alone in the fair sounded unbearable. Theo, on the other hand, made wandering the chaos a game.

We ended up at the rides. Not the biggest carnival in the world, but all the classics were there: the teacups, the scrambler spinning like it wanted to fling people into orbit, a towering ferris wheel blinking with colored lights, bumper cars revving and colliding with happy crashes.

Theo finally slid his phone into his pocket. “So, which one of these monstrosities do you want to die on first?” His smile was wide, playful. His eyes were sparkling, and I realized that he actually looked thrilled, like he had been waiting for this moment all week.

I nudged him in the shoulder. “Death trap? C’mon, these are safe. Mostly.”

“Mostly,” he echoed, smirking. “We’ll see about that.”

I gestured to the scrambler, already spinning and screaming at anyone brave enough to climb aboard. “That one. I call dibs on the window seat.”

He laughed, the sound light and teasing. “Figures. Okay, window it is.”

Seats secured, the ride roared to life. The world blurred, wind whipping my hair into my face, the screams of students mixing with the metallic shriek of the spinning contraption. Theo’s arm brushed mine, and he leaned slightly toward me, feigning horror as we spun faster.

“This is insane!” I shouted over the roar. Laughter bubbled from me uncontrollably.

Theo’s head tipped back, pretending to groan but smiling wide anyway. “You wanted to feel alive, didn’t you?”

By the time the ride slowed, we both stumbled off, wobbling like newborn foals. He held my arm steady, grinning. “Lost puppy and baby giraffe,” he teased, giving my shoulder a playful shove.

“Jealous much?” I countered, laughing despite the dizzy spin still buzzing in my head.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, smirking, the sparkle in his eyes teasing me more than words could.

Next came the food. No fair is complete without sugar and grease. I grabbed a funnel cake dusted with enough powdered sugar to make me look like a snowman. Theo, pretending he wasn’t even remotely interested, leaned over and took a bite anyway.

“Hey! Hands off!” I laughed, swatting at him.

He grinned, nibbling the bite and pretending to be scandalized. “Just taste-testing. Quality control. You’re welcome.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. He bought a corndog of his own anyway, though he spent half of it sneaking bites of my cake. “This is cheating!” I said, laughing.

“Life’s more fun when you cheat a little,” he said, smirking, brushing powdered sugar off his cheek with a playful flair.

The sun was dipping lower, painting the fair in soft oranges and pinks. Lights flickered on, buzzing faintly, giving everything a kind of magical glow. That’s when I made a spectacularly stupid mistake.

Jogging to catch up with Theo, my sneaker caught on a crack in the pavement. Momentum threw me forward, and I went down hard. Pain exploded in my knee like someone had lit it on fire.

“Shit!” I yelped, gripping my leg. Blood already streaked down my shin, gravel embedded in my scraped skin.

Theo immediately turned, crouching by me in a flash. “Whoa! Easy, snowman. That looks brutal,” he said, eyes wide but sparkling with amusement, not judgment.

“I—yeah, it hurts! Big time!” I hissed, clutching the knee.

“You’ve had worse,” he said, crouching in front of me. His grin softened, but he still had that teasing edge. “It’s just a scrape, Liam.”

Tears welled up, betraying my stubborn front, and I swiped them away angrily, turning my head. “I’m not good with pain, okay?” I muttered, the embarrassment stinging more than the scrape.

Theo groaned dramatically, leaning back on his heels. “Ah, jeez. Please don’t cry. I have zero skills in dealing with crying humans.”

“I’m not crying!” I snapped, hissing at the sting of pain.

He slipped an arm around my shoulders, helping me up before I could protest. “Alright, limp squad, let’s get you patched up.”

I wobbled, pain shooting through my leg with every step. “Don’t baby me,” I grumbled, though I leaned against him without even realizing it.

“You’re literally leaning on me,” he pointed out, smirking. “If anyone’s a baby, it’s you. But don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

The first aid station was a small booth staffed by two cheerful workers. Theo immediately took control, grabbing disinfectant spray and bandages. “Sit down, snowman,” he said, crouching before me. “Let’s get this battlefield cleaned.”

I winced as he sprayed the antiseptic. “OW! That’s not a little sting!” I hissed, jerking my leg back.

Theo grabbed my knee gently but firmly. “Stop being a drama king.”

“You say that like it’s easy for you to sit here while someone sprays fire on your skin,” I muttered through gritted teeth.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Unbelievable. You know, you make me feel like I should hand you a medal for bravery or something.”

I glared at him, half in pain, half because he was ridiculous, but also secretly thrilled at how attentive he was. He cleaned up the scrape, pressed the bandage down with exaggerated care, and sat back with a triumphant grin.

“All better now,” he said, voice softening just a fraction. He stayed crouched, still close to me.

“Thanks,” I said, quiet, catching the softness in his eyes.

We stayed like that for a beat longer than necessary, sharing a look that stretched without words. The fair noise dimmed in the background, leaving just the faint hum of rides and the warmth of our shared space.

Then Adrianna’s voice came bursting through. “Hey! There you guys are! Ready to head out?”

Theo straightened immediately, a cheeky grin playing on his lips. I glanced down, my face hot, pretending to fuss with the edge of my shirt. Adrianna looped her arm through mine, tugging me up. “Come on, before Dad gets annoyed waiting in the car.”

As we walked, Theo’s eyes found mine once more. He smirked, that familiar glint of playful mischief shining, and I quickly looked away, cheeks burning.

By the time we slid into the car, Adrianna jabbering about her shift and the chaos of the fair, I couldn’t shake the memory of that smirk. It lingered, teasing and warm, the kind of grin that made you forget all the scraped knees in the world.

Chapter Text

Spring break in Florida meant two things: tourists flooding in like they'd never seen the ocean before and locals trying to reclaim some corner of sand before it all got taken over. Adrianna had been buzzing about this beach day for a week, and apparently, her enthusiasm was contagious because by the time Saturday rolled around, I found myself actually looking forward to it too.

I bounced down the Raeken stairs from the guest room I was now staying in and walked out the house.

"Finally," Theo said, pushing his sunglasses down just enough to glare at me. "Thought you died or something."

"Sorry, I had to make sure I put on sunscreen—wouldn't want to burn like some people." I shot back, tossing my bag in the backseat.

He grinned like he always did when I matched his sarcasm. I got in the backseat, greeting Adrianna, our friend Hayden, their friend Tracy, and Theo's friend Derek. The girls happily greeted me while Derek grunted an acknowledgement before pulling out of the driveway, the hum of his car loud.

By the time us guys unloaded the car, Adrianna and her friends were already waiting near the boardwalk. Hayden and Tracy were both perched on the edge of the railing, chatting like they were in their own sitcom. Derek walked ahead, sipping from a water bottle and looking as though he'd rather be anywhere else.

I was actually friends with Hayden, so seeing her made me happy. Tracy, on the other hand… Well, I didn't dislike her, but I couldn't exactly forget the fact that she and Theo had hooked up once. Not that it was my business. Still, I felt a weird twist in my stomach when she smiled a little too sweetly at him. I brushed it off, chalking it up to beach heat.

We staked out a patch of sand not too far from the water. Adrianna immediately stretched out a blanket like she owned the place, while Theo dumped our bags and kicked off his sandals without a second thought.

"Race you to the water," he challenged, glancing at me.

"I'm not sprinting through sand like some kind of wild animal," I said flatly, dropping my towel.

"You're just scared I'll win." He didn’t wait for me to reply before bolting toward the waves. Adrianna groaned.

"Why do boys always turn everything into a competition?"

"Because they're secretly six," Hayden said, laughing.

Still, something about Theo’s smug grin made me jog after him. I wasn’t fast enough to catch up, but when I splashed into the surf a few seconds behind him, it didn’t matter. The water was cool, salty, and perfect.

We swam, surfed, and generally acted like idiots. Theo was annoyingly good at surfing, catching wave after wave like he was born for it, while I managed one decent ride before nearly eating it. Hayden cheered for me anyway, while Theo cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Careful, don't drown!"

"Helpful advice, thank you!" I yelled back, flipping him off.

Later, when Theo stretched out on the sand to soak in the sun like some golden retriever, I saw my chance. I waded in, cupped my hands, and launched a spray of water right onto his muscley back.

He shot upright, sputtering. "Did you just—"

"Oops," I said innocently, backing away.

"Oh, you’re dead."

I shrieked and bolted down the shoreline. He chased after me, his long strides catching up fast. My lungs burned, my heart pounding harder than it should have, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

"Theo, don’t you dare—"

Too late. He caught me from behind, arms hooking around my waist as he spun me around like I weighed nothing. I yelled and laughed so hard I nearly lost my footing. For a second, the world was all spinning sand and sunlight, the sound of my own laughter tangled with his.

When he finally set me down, I staggered, dizzy both from the twirl and from the way my chest felt tight. I bent over, pretending to catch my breath from running, hoping he wouldn’t notice the flush that wasn’t entirely from the sun.

"You done being a menace?" he asked, ruffling my wet hair.

"For now," I muttered, still smiling.

As the afternoon wore on, we all collapsed onto towels and blankets, half-exhausted. Adrianna and Tracy chatted about some show while Derek dozed off, his arm thrown over his eyes. Hayden and I sat at the edge of the group, letting the waves lap at our toes.

"You okay?" she asked quietly, tilting her head at me.

I forced a smile. "Yeah, just... tired. Sun takes it out of me."

Which was true, just not the whole truth. My chest still felt a little tight, and I still felt kind of dizzy. But instead of admitting it, I picked up a shell and tossed it into the water.

"Theo’s fun," Hayden brought up randomly, glancing at him.

"Fun is one word for it," I said dryly.

She laughed. "You two have this weird rhythm. Like you’re always arguing but neither of you means it."

I shrugged, not trusting myself to answer.

The sun dipped lower, painting the sky in pinks and oranges. We packed up, brushing sand off everything we owned. Derek went ahead of us to crank up the car. When we got there, I slid into the middle row, Theo beside me, Adrianna in the front, and the other girls behind us.

The hum of the road and the lull of conversation had my eyes heavy in minutes. Before I knew it, my head tipped sideways—right onto Theo’s shoulder. I jerked slightly, about to move, but the steady rise and fall of his breathing was too comfortable. My body betrayed me, slipping deeper into sleep.

I didn’t notice Adrianna smirking until Theo hissed at her, "Shut up."

Her laugh followed me into sleep anyway.

We pulled into the Raeken driveway, and I half-woke when Theo nudged me gently. "Hey. Sleeping Beauty. We’re home."

"Mm," I mumbled, burrowing closer.

He chuckled low in his throat. "Nope, up you get."

"Carry me," I grumbled without thinking, my voice scratchy with sleep.

He snorted. "Not a chance. Get your fat ass up."

"Rude," I muttered, finally pushing myself upright and stumbling out of the car. My body felt like lead, every step sluggish.

I mumbled a goodnight to the group and trudged upstairs, barely kicking my shoes off before collapsing face-first on the bed.

"Adorable," Theo teased from the doorway.

I was too tired to even respond with my usual sarcasm, but when I rolled halfway onto my side, I caught him leaning against the doorframe, watching me with that half-smile he only got when he thought no one was paying attention. He flicked off the light.

"Night, Liam," he said softly before closing the door.

And despite the salt still in my hair, the sand clinging to my skin, and the faint ache in my chest, I fell asleep smiling.

Chapter Text

It had green eyes. Terrifying, glowing, soulless green eyes. I’d never seen anything so awful in my life. It was running now—fast—charging straight toward me, each step louder than the last. My chest clenched, my throat went dry, and I couldn’t look away.

“Ahhhhhhh!”

I yelped, jerking back against the couch cushions—just as the monster on screen lunged at its screaming victim.

Yeah. A movie. Not real life. Just a movie.

A scary one, to be exact. And I hated scary movies.

But here I was, curled up on the Raeken family couch during spring break, surrounded by the whole clan, pretending I wasn’t about two seconds away from hiding under a blanket. Adrianna sat cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn like she was watching a rom-com, totally unfazed. Theo lounged with his usual smug grin, clearly amused by every time I flinched. Mr. and Mrs. Raeken even laughed at the jump scares. Meanwhile, my heart was sprinting a marathon.

Not just nerves—the pounding was too fast, too sharp, and I knew it wasn’t good. My ribcage rattled with every beat, as if my heart was trying to claw its way out. I clutched the pillow tighter, forcing myself to keep a mask of calm. Don’t let them see. Don’t make it a thing.

I inhaled deeply, counting in my head. One, two, three. Hold. Exhale. Again. It took real effort to drag my pulse back into something manageable, like reeling in a runaway kite. Every second I kept my breathing steady felt like a tiny victory, even if it left me shaky.

“Wow,” Adrianna said dryly, tossing a kernel into her mouth. “That scream was… impressive. I think the neighbors heard.”

I shot her a glare, forcing my voice to stay casual. “That wasn’t a scream. It was a… startled exhale.”

“Sounded like a scream,” Theo said, smirking without looking away from the TV. “Like, full-on damsel in distress energy.”

“Oh, shut up,” I muttered, cheeks hot.

Another jump scare hit, this time louder and gorier. My chest jolted as if my heart had leapt up to my throat. The pounding came back full force, a reminder of just how fragile my calm really was. Theo actually laughed. Out loud.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I grumbled, trying to cover my shaky exhale.

“Of course I am,” he said, finally looking at me. “You’re basically live entertainment.”

Mrs. Raeken chuckled softly, patting my knee. “Don’t worry, Liam. I hate these kinds of movies too. I’m only here because Adrianna insisted.”

“Correction,” Adrianna said, tossing popcorn at her mom, “Dad picked it.”

Mr. Raeken shrugged from his armchair. “Classic horror builds character.”

“Then my character is already fully built, thanks,” I muttered, burrowing deeper into the pillow.

Still, I stayed. Because as much as the movie was torture, sitting here with them wasn’t. I liked the Raekens. Their house felt… warm, somehow. Like no matter how creepy the movie got, the living room light and the pile of blankets and the way they bickered all made it better.

By the time the credits rolled, I was exhausted—not from the movie itself, but from how much energy I’d wasted forcing myself to breathe evenly, forcing my pulse to slow, forcing myself to act like I wasn’t two seconds from passing out. Everyone shuffled off to bed. Adrianna claimed the bathroom first, Theo disappeared upstairs, and Mr. and Mrs. Raeken turned off the lamp and headed to their room.

I followed behind eventually, but when I crawled into the guest bed, sleep refused to come. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw were glowing green eyes staring back. My chest still felt unsettled—not panic exactly, but uncomfortable. Too awake. Too restless.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, I gave up. Slipping quietly out of bed, I padded down the stairs. The house was dark except for the faint glow from the TV when I flicked it on, keeping the volume low. My thumb hovered over the remote until I landed on something safe, happy, and so far removed from horror it was practically medicine: Bella and the Bulldogs.

Yeah, I knew it was technically a kid’s show. But I needed something dumb and cheerful—bright uniforms, goofy humor, friendship speeches. My chest loosened the second the theme song played.

“Seriously?”

I nearly dropped the remote. Theo stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hair sticking up like he’d rolled out of bed. He wore a plain T-shirt and sweats, looking way too casual for someone who’d just caught me watching Nickelodeon at midnight.

“I knew you were scared,” I said quickly, pointing the remote at him like a weapon.

“I wasn’t scared,” he shot back, crossing the room to drop onto the couch. “I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Which means you were scared.”

He ignored me, snagging the spare pillow I wasn’t hugging to death. “Why this show though?”

I gasped dramatically. “You’re seriously asking me why? Bella’s an icon.”

His grin spread slow and teasing. “An icon? Really?”

“Yes, really,” I said, sitting up straighter. “She took her small-town cheerleader energy and became quarterback. That’s legendary behavior.”

Theo laughed, low and warm. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet here you are, watching it with me,” I pointed out, smirking.

He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he couldn’t argue. Instead, he stretched out his long legs, settling deeper into the couch like he owned the place.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, just the cheesy dialogue from the TV filling the room. My heartbeat slowed, the earlier tightness finally easing for real this time. Sometimes, distractions worked better than anything else.

“You really don’t like scary stuff, huh?” Theo said eventually, tilting his head toward me.

I shook my head. “Hate it. My imagination’s too good. Everything sticks.”

“That explains why you looked like you were about to cry earlier.”

I shoved his arm. “I did not!”

“You did,” he said, grinning again. “It was adorable.”

I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. “You’re never letting me live this down, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

We lapsed into quieter conversation, trading sarcastic remarks about the show. I teased him when he admitted he’d actually seen an episode before (“Admit you secretly love it”), and he rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it fast enough.

As the clock ticked later, my eyelids got heavier. My body slouched sideways against the couch, and without meaning to, I leaned closer into the pillow between us. My chest fluttered weirdly, not just from tiredness but from something else—something I didn’t want to name.

“You okay?” Theo asked softly.

“Yeah,” I murmured, though my voice was rough. “Just… tired. And maybe dizzy. It happens.”

He glanced at me, and I caught the concern flicker in his eyes before he looked away. He didn’t press, though. He never did.

Instead, he shifted just enough that I could lean more comfortably without it being obvious. And for once, I didn’t fight it.

The laugh track from Bella and the Bulldogs echoed through the living room, bright and silly. My eyes fluttered shut.

The world didn’t disappear right away, though. I felt the couch’s warmth, the quiet hum of the TV, and Theo’s shoulder just barely brushing mine. My chest was still beating a little too fast, but the rhythm felt less like panic and more like something steady I could fall asleep to.

I didn’t realize I’d drifted until I stirred again, groggy, half-conscious. The TV screen had gone dark—Theo must’ve turned it off. A blanket was draped over me that hadn’t been there before.

I shifted slightly, and only then did I notice Theo was still there. Still on the couch. He hadn’t gone upstairs. He sat slouched back, head tilted against the cushion, eyes half-shut like he’d tried to stay awake but lost the fight.

It should’ve been awkward. But it wasn’t. Somehow, it felt… safe.

For the first time all night, I didn’t fight sleep. I let it pull me under, heart finally calm.

Chapter Text

I didn’t even realize Theo had left the house until I pushed open the glass door of the corner store and saw him already there. He was leaning against the rack of candy bars like he owned the place, tossing a pack of peanut M&M’s from one hand to the other, a crooked grin spreading across his face the second he spotted me.

I froze, dripping faint rainwater onto the welcome mat. “Seriously?” I said, narrowing my eyes. “Of all places?”

He lifted the candy like he was making a toast. “Midnight snack emergency.”

I stepped further inside, the bell jingling overhead as the hum of the fridge filled the silence. The store was small, clean, shelves lined neatly, soft jazz playing on the speaker system. The man behind the counter barely glanced up from his magazine.

“Snack emergency?” I echoed, eyebrow raised.

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Don’t act like you’re not here for the same reason.”

“Fine. But at least mine’s healthier. All your parents keep in the house is water and protein powder.” I said, holding up the soda and bag of kale chips I just grabbed off the shelf.

He gasped, mock offended. “Excuse you—M&M’s are basically protein.”

“Yeah,” I said, fighting a smile. “That’s definitely how that works.”

We paid quickly, the cashier sliding our change across the counter with tired efficiency. By the time we stepped back outside, the drizzle had turned to a steady rain. The streetlamps glowed against the slick pavement, and the cool air wrapped around me like a bucket of ice. I shivered instantly.

Theo glanced sideways at me, tugging his hoodie tighter around himself before sighing dramatically. “You didn’t bring a jacket?”

“It was just supposed to be a quick trip,” I muttered, trying not to sound like my teeth were chattering.

Without hesitation, he pulled the hoodie over his head and shoved it toward me.

I blinked. “No way.”

“Put it on,” he said firmly.

“I’m not a girl,” I blurted, the protest automatic.

“I know,” he said.

Something about the way he said it—not teasing, not mocking, just sure—made me pause. His gaze flicked away quickly, like he hadn’t even meant to say it out loud. My chest tightened, though I played it off, slipping the hoodie over my head. It was warm, smelled like his detergent, and—more than anything—it smelled like him.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

His smile was softer this time, not the usual cocky grin.

We started walking home side by side, shoes splashing in puddles. The rain pattered against my hood, a rhythm that felt both calming and alive.

For a while, the only sound was the rain and the quiet shuffle of our footsteps. But Theo was never one for silence for too long.

“So,” he said, breaking it. “Why aren’t you in a relationship? You too… nice or something?”

I laughed under my breath. “Too nice?”

“Yeah. Like, you’d be the guy who remembers anniversaries, buys flowers, actually listens to what the other person says.”

“Sounds terrible,” I deadpanned.

He nudged my arm. “I’m serious. You’d be good at it.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. My life’s… different. My dad’s gone a lot for work—he travels constantly. And my mom—” I hesitated, my throat catching, but Theo’s gaze stayed steady on me, patient. “My mom’s amazing. She really is. But she worries. A lot. About everything. I don't think I've really ever felt free enough to be with someone. It wouldn't be fair to them anyways, I don't think I could give someone else the love and care they deserve when I'm still trying to care for myself.”

Theo nodded slowly, clearly confused on what I meant by that but not voicing it. “That sounds… a lot.”

“It is,” I admitted. “But it's nothing crazy and my parents are great you know, I love them. I don’t… ever want it to sound like I don’t. I just don’t always know how to fit my life into theirs, you know?”

He was quiet for a second, rain dripping off his hair where it stuck to his forehead. Then, gently: “I get it.”

I smiled faintly, relieved. “Besides who needs a girlfriend when I’ve got all the company I need at home anyway. My golden retriever basically thinks he’s my shadow.”

Theo perked up. “You have a dog?”

“Yeah. His name's June. He’s big, fluffy, and super smart. He knows tons of tricks and stuff. He was already a trained service dog when we got him too so he can detect almost any health problems. He's super cool.” I laughed, warmth bubbling up just thinking about him. “He greets me like I’ve been gone for ten years every time I leave the room.”

“That’s amazing,” Theo said, grinning now.

“And then there’s Kami.”

“Another dog?”

I shook my head. “Cat. She’s… the opposite. Hates everyone, judges from afar, she’ll sit on your homework, and somehow still makes me feel special when she decides to sit next to me.”

Theo chuckled. “So you’ve got the angel and the demon.”

“Exactly.” I smiled at him through the rain. “Perfect balance.”

He didn’t say anything right away, just smiled back, a real one that softened his whole face.

The rain had softened a little, more mist than downpour now, and for a while we just walked in the rhythm of it. My hoodie—his hoodie—kept me warm enough, and I found myself focusing on the sound of our shoes against the wet pavement, the glow of streetlamps stretching long shadows across the road.

After a beat, I glanced sideways at him. “So, you asked about me not dating… what about you? You never seem to, either.”

Theo kicked at a puddle with the toe of his sneaker, watching the water ripple. “Guess I’m just not looking for that right now.”

“That can’t be the whole story,” I said lightly. “Everyone’s always talking about you.”

He smirked faintly. “Yeah, people like to talk.”

I hesitated, then blurted, “What about Molly?” Her name tasted strange in my mouth, like I wasn’t sure why I’d even said it.

Theo’s smirk slipped into a shrug. “That was… nothing. Just a one-time thing. Didn’t mean anything.”

I tried to keep my expression casual, though something twisted in my chest at how easily he brushed it off. “Oh. Okay.”

“Seriously,” he added, glancing at me. His tone wasn’t defensive, just calm, steady. “I’m not worried about relationships. I just want to focus on… I don’t know. Being here. Right now. With the people I actually care about.”

Something in his voice made my stomach flip, though I laughed it off quickly. “Wow, that’s deep. Should I be writing this down?”

He grinned, bumping his shoulder against mine. “Probably. I don’t say wise things often.”

We walked a little more, shoulders brushing occasionally as the rain soaked our jeans. The conversation shifted again, lighter this time. He teased me about how I still watched cartoons sometimes, and I teased him about how seriously he took his hair. The rain didn’t feel so cold anymore.

By the time we reached the Dunbar house, we were laughing, the sound spilling across the quiet street. We dripped water all over the porch as Theo fumbled with the keys.

Inside, the house was dark and warm, the steady hum of the heater wrapping around us. We kicked off our wet shoes and padded into the living room. Theo tossed me a towel from the hall closet, and I dried my hair, grinning when he messed his up on purpose to make it stick up in every direction.

“You look like a porcupine,” I said, laughing.

“And you look like a drowned rat,” he shot back, but his voice was light, teasing without bite.

We ended up sprawled on the couch, blankets over our legs, snacks spread out across the coffee table. The rain still pattered on the windows, but in here it was warm and quiet, the glow of the TV screen casting soft shadows.

I cracked open my soda, the fizz filling the silence. Theo leaned back with his bag of M&M’s, tossing one up and catching it in his mouth like he’d practiced for hours.

“You’re way too proud of that,” I said, shaking my head.

He grinned. “Skill should be appreciated.”

We kept the TV on, flipping through shows without really settling on anything. The conversation drifted back to home again—his and mine. He talked about Adrianna, how she drove him crazy sometimes but how he couldn’t imagine life without her. I admitted how much I missed Max and Luna, and how my mom would probably be texting me right now if she wasn’t trying to let me “have space.”

It was easy. Comfortable. The hoodie still smelled like him, warm and distracting, but I didn’t mind. Not at all.

By the time the clock blinked past one in the morning, I realized something.

I wasn’t restless anymore. I wasn’t waiting for something better.

I was exactly where I wanted to be.

Chapter Text

I woke up to the sound of someone pounding on my door like it was the apocalypse. At first, I thought maybe Theo had found some new and creative way to annoy me, but then the voice that followed was way too chipper to belong to him.

“Liam! Rise and shine! Up and at ‘em, everybody! Family meeting in the kitchen!”

It was Mrs. Raeken.

I groaned, dragging the pillow over my face. My chest thumped unevenly from being jolted awake, a little too fast for comfort, and I had to focus on slow breaths until it leveled out. Staying with the Raeken family had been one of the best parts of spring break so far—but mornings like this? Not exactly part of the fantasy.

The pounding moved down the hallway, doors opening, voices groaning in protest. I pulled on a hoodie and sweatpants and trudged out of my room, still half-asleep.

Theo stepped out of his, hair sticking out in every direction. He gave me a deadpan look that basically translated to: kill me now.

“This better be worth it,” he muttered.

We followed the noise downstairs to find Adrianna already sunk into the couch, phone in hand, texting furiously with the kind of focus most people reserved for open-heart surgery. Mr. and Mrs. Raeken were in the kitchen, beaming like it was Christmas morning.

“Good morning, team!” Mr. Raeken clapped his hands together, far too energized for the hour. “We have a surprise!”

Adrianna groaned without looking up. “If it’s another ‘fun run,’ I’m leaving.”

“Even better,” Mrs. Raeken said, drawing out the suspense. “Spontaneous family camping trip!”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“What,” Theo said flatly.

“Camping!” Mr. Raeken repeated like it was the best idea in the world. “Fresh air! Nature! Family bonding!”

“You’re kidding.” Theo rubbed his face.

Adrianna let out the loudest groan I’d ever heard. “No. No way. I’m a teenage girl. I have standards. And Wi-Fi needs. And privacy needs.”

“You’ll survive,” Mrs. Raeken chirped.

“Barely,” Adrianna muttered. She turned to me then, her eyes narrowed. “You think this is fun?”

I raised my hands defensively. “Don’t drag me into this. I’m just a guest here.”

“Exactly,” Theo said, pointing at me like I’d just made his case. “He’s a guest. You can’t torture guests.”

But Mr. Raeken was already hauling out duffel bags. “Everyone pack! We leave in an hour.”

An hour later, the car was packed to bursting. Tents, sleeping bags, coolers, and enough snacks to feed a small country. Adrianna claimed the front seat and refused to budge, scrolling endlessly on her phone. Theo and I were shoved in the back with backpacks crammed against our knees.

It should’ve been quiet—if not for the Raekens in the front. Mr. and Mrs. Raeken had apparently decided this was a full-blown road trip. They started belting out early 2000s pop songs at the top of their lungs, clapping on the wrong beat.

I bit my lip to hide my grin. Theo wasn’t as subtle. He groaned dramatically, sliding down the seat. “Please make it stop.”

Adrianna shoved her earbuds in and hissed, “You’re embarrassing yourselves!”

“Embarrassment is part of the experience!” Mr. Raeken sang.

“You sound like cats dying,” Theo shot back, but it only made them sing louder.

I laughed under my breath, hugging my knees. My heart thudded too quickly from the commotion and the cramped space, but I focused on breathing evenly, grounding myself in the ridiculousness of it all. Watching Theo suffer through his parents’ concert was worth it.

After what felt like forever, we pulled into the campsite. The air smelled of pine and damp earth, the kind of crisp freshness you only get outside of town. The trees stretched tall and endless, the sunlight breaking through in golden streaks.

Adrianna climbed out of the car with a dramatic sigh. “Ground rules. I need my own tent. I am not sharing with gremlins.”

“Agreed,” Theo said immediately. “Best idea you’ve ever had.”

“Too bad,” Mr. Raeken said cheerfully, hauling out a folded tent. “Girls in one, boys in the other.”

Adrianna gasped like someone had just told her she was moving to Mars. “What? No! I said privacy!”

Mrs. Raeken smiled sweetly. “You’ll live.”

Theo groaned so loud it echoed.

We got stuck with tent duty. Which would’ve been fine—if either of us had any clue what we were doing. The instructions made no sense, the poles refused to cooperate, and the fabric collapsed every time we thought we’d figured it out.

“This isn’t a tent,” Theo grunted, holding one end of the pole as I tried to jam it into place. “This is modern torture.”

“It’s supposed to go through the sleeve!” I argued.

“It won’t go through the sleeve!”

Adrianna was perched in a camp chair with her phone angled perfectly to record. “This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Delete that!” Theo barked, but he was laughing too, sweat dripping down his forehead.

We had spent almost an hour fighting with nylon, tangled poles, and a set of instructions that looked like they were written for people with advanced engineering degrees. At one point, the tent had collapsed on Theo’s head while he was still inside it, and I thought I was actually going to die from laughter.

Theo had thrown his arms out dramatically from beneath the mass of fabric and yelled, “Tell my story!” like he was some fallen hero.

Now the tent was finally standing — crooked, sagging slightly in one corner, but standing. That was all that mattered.

I plopped down on the damp grass beside Theo, both of us staring at our wobbly handiwork like it might decide to topple over at any second.

“That,” I gasped, “was war.”

“Pretty sure we lost,” Theo wheezed beside me, and we both burst out laughing. My ribs hurt from how hard I was laughing, breath puffing out in the cool spring air.

“It's not bad,” I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

“It’s art,” Theo corrected, flopping backward into the grass with a groan. “Modern art. They should put this in a museum.”

I stretched out beside him, staring up at the sky that was turning shades of orange and purple as the sun set behind the trees. The forest around us smelled of pine and damp earth, and little beams of golden light broke through the leaves, speckling the ground.

It was quiet — the kind of quiet that felt alive, filled with the faint rustle of leaves and the distant croak of frogs. My chest eased a little. Out here, away from everything, it was easier to breathe.

Theo turned his head toward me, hair sticking up in a ridiculous mess from rolling around with the tent. “So what now? Sit here and admire our beautiful disaster or go exploring before it falls apart?”

I smirked. “Exploring. If it collapses, at least we won’t be here to witness it.”

“Solid logic.” He hopped to his feet, brushing dirt off his jeans, and offered me a hand up.

I took it, his grip warm and steady as he pulled me up. We set off into the woods, not with any real direction, just walking.
The path wasn’t really a path — more like patches of trampled grass and places where the trees thinned. The air was cool, still damp from the earlier drizzle, and every now and then, water droplets fell from the leaves above, plopping onto our shoulders.

The path wasn’t really a path — more like patches of trampled grass and places where the trees thinned. The air was cool, still damp from the earlier drizzle, and every now and then, water droplets fell from the leaves above, plopping onto our shoulders.

“So,” Theo said after a while, kicking a rock down the trail like it was a soccer ball, “are you actually an outdoorsy person, or are you suffering right now?”

I laughed. “I’m surviving. Barely. My mom’s the type who thinks a camping trip is renting a cabin with Wi-Fi.”

He snorted. “Figures. You don’t exactly scream ‘roughing it.’”

“Excuse me,” I said, mock offended. “I can totally rough it. Look at me, walking through nature without complaining.”

“You’ve complained at least three times.”

“Okay, but quietly.”

He grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets as we walked. “Fair. I’ll give you that one.”

We wandered like that for a while, talking about dumb stuff — favorite pizza toppings, whether hot dogs actually counted as sandwiches, who would survive longer in the wilderness.

“I would last at least a week,” Theo claimed.

"Yeah right, I don't believe that, but you probably do have me beat. I’d probably cry the second I was left alone."

We laughed and the woods around us shifted as the sun dipped lower, the light dimming to soft gold, the air cooler, quieter. I didn’t realize how far we’d gone until the trees began to thin, and I heard the faint trickle of water.

We stepped out of the trees, and my breath caught.
The lake stretched out before us, smooth as glass, reflecting the colors of the sunset like a painting — orange, pink, and purple rippling across its surface. Pines framed the shoreline, their dark shapes silhouetted against the fiery sky. The air was cooler here, touched with the scent of water and moss, and a gentle breeze stirred ripples across the surface.

“Whoa,” Theo said softly, his usual cocky tone gone.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “It’s… beautiful.”

We stood there in silence for a minute, just taking it in. It didn’t feel like something we were supposed to stumble upon — more like we’d been let in on a secret.

Before either of us could say anything else, a voice called from behind us.

“Liam! Theo! Dinner!”

We turned to see Adrianna waving her arms dramatically from the edge of the trees.

Theo groaned. “Guess the beans and hot dogs are ready.”

“Nature’s finest,” I said with a grin, and we reluctantly tore our eyes from the lake to head back to camp.

Dinner was chaos in the best way.
Theo’s parents had set up folding chairs around the fire pit, where beans bubbled in a pot and hot dogs roasted on skewers. The smell of smoke clung to everything, my clothes, my hair, even my skin, but I didn’t mind.

Adrianna immediately claimed singular can of Pepsi, not caring when her brother argued.

“That's the last one Adri, come on,” Theo begged.

"Exactly, you drank the first five, so I get this one," She crossed her arms like she’d just won the argument.

Their mom sighed. “Adrianna, stop antagonizing your brother. Liam, sweetie, do you want a hot dog?”

I grinned, amused by how normal this all felt. “Yes, please.”

We ended up with plates piled high — beans, hot dogs, chips, and s’mores supplies waiting on the side for later. Theo’s dad started singing some ridiculous camp song at the top of his lungs, and their mom joined in, laughing. Theo covered his ears dramatically, groaning.

“Make it stop!” he begged.

I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my beans. Adrianna just kept texting furiously on her phone, pretending she wasn’t related to any of us.

It was messy and loud and goofy, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had this much fun just sitting around a fire.

Later, after everyone started drifting toward their tents, Theo and I stayed by the fire pit.
“You tired?” he asked, poking at the embers with a stick.

“Not really,” I admitted.

He smirked. “Good. Because I’ve got an idea.”

Which was how, twenty minutes later, we ended up sneaking back through the trees toward the lake.

The night air was cool against my skin, the woods darker now, shadows stretching long and deep. The lake appeared suddenly in the moonlight, silver rippling across its surface.

Theo peeled off his shirt without hesitation, tossing it onto the sand. “Come on.”

“You’re insane,” I whispered, glancing back toward camp.

“Probably.” He grinned. “But it’ll be fun.”

Rolling my eyes, I stripped down to my boxers and followed him into the water. It was freezing, shocking against my skin, but I gasped and laughed at the same time.

Theo dove under like it was nothing, while I floated on my back, staring up at the stars.

Suddenly, he came up underneath me, flipping me over with a splash.

I surfaced, sputtering, laughing so hard my stomach hurt. “You’re the worst!”

He splashed me, and soon we were in a full-on water fight, flailing and laughing so loud it echoed across the lake.

Eventually, soaked and breathless, we dragged ourselves out onto the sandy shore, collapsing side by side. Theo laid back with his arm tucked behind his head, while I sat, hugging my knees, still grinning.

For a while, we just listened to the sound of the water lapping gently against the shore.

“So,” Theo said eventually, glancing at me, “you’ve told me about your parents, but… you actually like being home, don’t you?”

I smiled softly. “Yeah. I do. You know my dad’s gone a lot but when he’s home, it’s like… everything feels right again. And my mom… she’s overprotective, sure, but she means well. They're amazing. I wouldn’t trade them for anything.”

Theo nodded quietly, listening.

“And I’ve got my pets and my aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins,” I added, grinning.

“My cousin’s coming to visit soon actually,” I said suddenly. “He’s been away at boardingschool for a while so we really want to see him. He met a guy a few weeks ago, he really wants to bring him but my mom thinks he should wait until they've been seeing each other longer than a month.”

Theo tilted his head. “You don’t care? That he's gay I mean.”

“Why would I?” I said honestly. “He’s still him. That doesn’t change.”

Theo was quiet for a moment, staring out at the lake. Then he said, “You know… I’ve never told anyone this.”
His tone made me sit up straighter. “What?”

He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “There was this guy. Freshman year. We had gym together, became friends. We ended up studying at his house once. And when we finished, we were just sitting in his room, watching TV.”

His voice dropped lower. “He kissed me. Out of nowhere. Just leaned over and did it. And right then, his dad came storming in. He freaked out — screaming, yelling. I got out of there as fast as I could. And after that… the guy never came back to school. Some people said his dad sent him to military school.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Theo…”

“I’ve never told anyone that,” he admitted. “Not even Adrianna. Sometimes I think about it, though. What would’ve happened if his dad hadn’t walked in? I don’t know. I didn’t really have time to think when it happened. But it wasn’t… bad. I just don’t know if I felt that way about him.”

I hesitated. “Because you just weren’t into him, or because… he’s a guy?”

He gave a helpless little shrug. “I don’t think I quite have that answer for you yet.”

The weight of his honesty hung between us. The night was still, the lake calm, stars scattered above.

“What about you?” he asked softly. “What would you have done in my place?”

My throat tightened. “I don’t think I have that answer for you yet either.”

We stared at each other, the air charged, heavy with everything unsaid.

A faint drizzle began to fall, cool drops speckling my skin. Neither of us moved.
“I guess we should start heading back,” Theo said finally, though his eyes never left mine.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “I guess.”

But still, we didn’t move.

Then a thunderclap shattered the silence, lightning flashing across the lake. Both of us jumped, then burst out laughing.

“Okay, yeah, time to go!” Theo said, scrambling to his feet.

We grabbed our clothes and ran, still laughing, crashing back through the trees toward camp.

By the time we got there, we were soaked, dripping water everywhere as we toweled off clumsily. Theo flopped onto his sleeping bag, hair sticking up in wild directions, and tossed me a blanket.

I curled onto my side, facing him. He lay on his back; one arm tucked behind his head.

In the small space of the tent, I ended up pressed slightly against him, my breath fanning warm over his shoulder.

For the first time all night, neither of us said anything.

The silence wasn’t empty. It was full.

And eventually, with the patter of rain on the tent above us, we both drifted off with the knowledge of something new.