burning (or, to be consumed by fire)

i.

Outlined by a bleeding sunset, the two talk in low voices at the kitchen table.

She can't see their faces, but almost immediately, she knows what's going on.

The light is harsh, and the men squint up at her.

"Who's that," She sneers. The boy looks up at her with wide eyes and parted lips.

"This," Father hisses. "Is my apprentice."

She shifts in the doorway. "I'm right here."

"I don't teach women,"

"And why the hell not!?"

"Don't take that tone with me, young lady!"

But she couldn't stop, "Just because he's some - some boy doesn't make him a better actor! I've got awards! I've got proof - "

"You were a child then," Father says. "But now it's time to grow up.

Her face wavered before locking back into anger. "How - how could you say that?! You think - you think you're better than everybody because you were a star! Now you're just some washed-up diva!"

Father leapt from his seat, hand raised. "You disrespectful - "

She flinches just a little and immediately regrets the show of weakness. "If you weren't, you wouldn't be so damn picky, would you!"

She turned on her heel and ran up the stairs, collapsing on the carpet.

Her tears burned.

ii.

"Hey!" He says. "Let's walk together!"

She doesn't even look at him. "No."

"Come on," He walks around her, arms behind his head and bag dangling from his crossed fingers. "We're going to the same place, aren't we?"

"That doesn't mean I want to walk with you."

"We're living together," He whines. "Let's at least be civil here,"

She stops walking and he almost walks right into her. "I hate your guts. There's nothing civil about that."

"Aww - but don't you need to know me before you hate my guts?"

"No."

"You've barely talked to me."

She turns around sharply. "Yeah, well, I'm sure you're used to things falling into your lap - awards, famous teachers, girls."

"Girls," He rests his chin in the dip of his hand, puffs his chest a little bit. "Well, I am kind of handsome,"

She rolls her eyes. "And full of yourself,"

"Hey! I worked hard to be this hot!"

A few kids look their way and she snaps her head away. "Shut up," She says through gritted teeth.

“"Oh, hey!" A girl with evenly parted, curled pigtails glides beside them, followed by her friends.

"Hi!" He chirps.

The girl smiled bashfully at him, twirling her finger into her hair, "How are you?"

Behind him, she scoffs.

"I'm fine, but I'd be much better if somebody," He rolls his neck around to look at her, then back to the girls. "I'm not naming names, I would be a better team player."

The girl looks at her, offended. "Well," She says, with a little tip of the head. "If I were her, I totally would,"

"It's fine," He says with a wave of the hand. "I'm sure she'll warm up eventually,"

She scoffs.

"Of course," The girl with the pig tales was saying over her, "You're very charming."

iii.

"The wisest aunt," He was saying to the pool of darkness opposite the stage, "Telling the saddest tale - "

Hot tears were burning her face, stinging her eyes. She'd only come to suss out the competition (she wipes her eyes with her fist), and most of the kids were pretty amateur but, he -

He was good. Too good. Not better than she was, of course - but he clearly had a natural talent that he was trying to scrape into a stake. The body language, his face. She found herself mouthing the words along with him to calm down, but it wasn't working.

She sniffed, hoping her Father couldn't see her face. "I'm going to pee."

Her Father made a noncommittal sound, and she pushed past him. She had to get away. She couldn't hear his voice echoing in her head anymore. She stormed up the aisle and shoved the door open.

In the hallway, she inhaled deeply over short, alternating with shorter, wavering breaths. She hit the bottom of her palms against her forehead. She hit the back of her head against the door.

"Oh, sorry," The man walking out said. "I didn't know you were there,"

She swallows. "I'm - it's fine."

"Are you okay, ma'am? Did I hit ya?"

She shakes her head, swallowing again. She tries to force the raspiness out of her throat. "I'm fine. Shouldn't have stood there anyway."

The man looked around awkwardly before going down the hall. And that's it, she thought. People never know what to do with some girl, who looks like a deflated balloon, is having a breakdown. Her face twists, and sparked with new anger, she storms out into the parking lot.

She wavers for a moment.

Inhaling deeply, she screams.

And keeps screaming.

And keeps screaming until her lungs hurt.

And then she screams some more.

iv.

"Hey," A girl looms over her desk. She doesn't look up from her book. "Hey, I'm talking to you!"

She cranes her neck back, meeting eyes with the pigtail girl, one of the many that follow her ... "roommate" around.

"What."

The girl seems to shiver a little at her icy glare but stands her ground. "What's your relationship with him?"

"That's what this is about?" She sighs.

"Well, you're always walking with him, and he always waves to you and - "

"And?"

The girl pales. "Don't act like you don't know,"

"Listen," She puts her book face down on the desk. "I don't care,"

"So that means I can have him, right?" The girl stares at her when she doesn't respond. "Right?"

She shrugs. "He's his own person."

The girl pouts.

She turns one to the next page.

"I guess you wouldn't care - because you'd never have a chance," She says. "It's not like your that that much like a girl, anyway,"

She goes rigid. She's not stupid; she knows that was a calculated drag - a stupid calculated drag. It's not the first time somebody's said that to her. It didn't really matter who did, except the girl's words twisted into her Father's and his friend's laughter. The old wound stung.

She bends her neck back, eyes steel-like.

"Didn't you fuckin' hear me, eh?"

Pigtail girl shivers.

"He's not my fuckin' boyfriend - he's just my fuckin roommate. I don't care about him or what he does. I don't care what you do. I bet you think yourself smart for insulting me to my face all underhanded like that. It isn't. You're pathetic. Getting into fights because of some guy?" She scoffs. “And tell your friends if anyone tries this bullshit again, I'll break their noses."

The girl stares at her.

"Did you get all of that?"

The girl rushes off.

v.

At lunch, the girls stood in tight circles, peeking over their shoulders and whispering before looking around quickly.

He turns away from his small group of guys, and it annoyingly only takes a few steps for him to be in step with her. "Hey,"

She finds herself stopping but refuses to turn around. "What."

"You get into any fights lately?" He tilts his head with a smug grin. "The girls came to me talking about 'some scary monster' and 'please save us',"

She scoffs, rolls her eyes, and steps away, stopped by him taking her wrist. She glares down at his hand. "Come on," He whines. "If it's about me, should I get to know?"

How do you know it's about you, she almost asked. But as always, it was, so instead she said, "They already told you, didn't they?"

She tugs her arm, but he doesn't let go. "No, no, no - I want to hear your side now. The girl I know wouldn't just lash out for no reason,"

She gives him a hard look before looking forward and pulling at her arm again. "I guess you don't know me then,"

"No," He says with a little pout. "I'm right. There's a reason for that too."

Her face twisted in disgust, a strange feeling sitting on her chest. She hated that she had no idea what he was talking about.

They meet eyes.

She jerks her hand out of his grip, looking away. "They think we're dating,"

He breaks out into laughter, slapping the railing. A few students look their way, and she glares at him, face burning.

"Why are you so fucking loud all the time?" She says through gritted teeth.

"Sorry, sorry," He says with a wave of his hand. "It's just that - your Father would kill me!"

She turns her head in confusion.

"Or worse, expel me!"

She can't imagine her Father caring about her dating life, considering his reaction to all of the other things. Or maybe, he'd prefer that she were dating - it's what young women are supposed to do, after all.

"Don't worry," He says, throwing an arm around her shoulder, which she immediately shrugs off. "You're pretty cute,"

She looks disturbed.

"You'd find a man in no time at all. Or - or a girl, if that's your thing. I don't judge. I'm comfortable enough to admit when another guy is hot, y'know?"

She hits her face, sighing deeply. "Would you please stop talking?"

“Aww," His face splits into a wide smile. "You said please this time!"

She groans. "You're a pain in the neck,"

"I'm your pain in the neck,"

"I'm starting to think your a goddamn masochist,"

"Aww," He coos. "What are you gonna do? Step on me?"

She kicks him instead.

vi.

She's furious for crying, unable to lower her sniffling. Thank God, or whatever, that her Father had gone out drinking with some of his old buddies because she hadn't even made it up the stairs.

It's stupid, she thinks.

She's so dramatic, such a crybaby, her Father always said.

She hates it more than anything when he's right.

"Hey,"

She jerks her head up sharply as if pulled by a string. Shit, she completely forgot he was here. The force on her head pushes harder, and her eyes start to water again.

"What's wro - "

She slaps his hand away, head swimming. "What?! Did you come out here to laugh at me?! I don't want your pity!"

"No, that's not - I just - "

"What, then? You're gonna tell Father about his stupid, crying little girl?" She barks. "Are you!?”

It's hard to be intimidating with tears streaming down and snot running out of your nose. She collapses against the wall.

He doesn't say anything.

"Stop." She says, breathing shallowly.

His brow creases. "Stop what?"

She slides a hand into her hairline so that he can't see her eyes.

"Stop looking at me like I'm pitiful,"

"I don't think that," His voice is uncharacteristically soft and it makes her spine jump.

"I don't care what you think," She sniffs.

He's silent again.

"You shouldn't have seen this," She says into her knees. "You should've just kept walking."

The stairs creak, but the carpet upstairs swallows his footsteps.

vii.

She actually waited for him that day.

It was just to pay him back for the other day, that's all. She wasn't "warming up" to him or anything. It was just an exchange.

She slaps at her uniform skirt. Where is he! What was taking him so long? It was awful enough to be standing at the gate where her classmates weren't even trying to hide their surprise - and the drink is getting warm!

She looks down at the can in her hands. She doesn't even know if he likes this kind - but he's going to have to! It was her favorite, so she knew it was good - and besides, she was tired of standing in that freezer door.

She pushes herself off the wall. "Jesus fucking - "

She starts to walk back to the school when she hears it.

" - I'm sorry," He's saying. "I can't date right now. I really have to focus on acting,"

"But that's okay - " The girl chokes.

Her hand tightens around the can.

"That's what they always say," He shakes his head. "But nobody wants to be second. Especially not to acting, of all things. I'm sorry, though. You put so much effort into these cookies. I'm sure you think it's all a waste now,"

She knows that the girl is crying without even looking. Turning away, she shoots the can into the trash and keeps walking.

viii.

"Practice?" She sneers. "With me?"

He nods.

"Didn't you hear what my Father said? Ever?"

"But you know all the lines," He wines.

"So?" She asks with a jerk of the head.

"I think you'd make a great Juliet,"

"I fucking hate you,"

"Perfect," He slaps his thigh. "You can channel that right in!"

He hands her his copy, full of tricky notes and little writing in the margins.

"You have girly handwriting," She says.

"You're just jealous because it's super neat,” He says smugly.

"Fuck off." She leans her chin on the back of the chair. "What are you waiting for? Go?"

He inhales and shakes himself out. "You're first, actually,"

“ ‘Go, then; for 'tis in vain – ‘ “

"Are you going to read like that the whole time?"

"Beggars can't be choosers," She peeks at the next page before flipping it back.

He points at her before straightening up, "‘He jests at scars that never felt a wound.’ / ‘But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?’”

"You're being super dramatic,"

"Uh, yeah," He rolls his wrist at her. "That's kind of in the job description,"

"It's corny,"

"Why shouldn't it be? It's two teenagers in love,"

She gives him a look.

"You don't think they're in love?"

"No," She waves a hand. “It's too rushed. She's a rebound. And thirteen,"

"They think they're in love," He says. "Isn't that enough?"

She looks up at him from the back of the chair. "You're sentimental."

"I'm in character, and you should respect my choices as an act-or,"

She groans. "Just keep going."

She wasn't trying to listen at first, but it didn't matter. It was like being spun around on a fast ride, being thrown into his words like the wind.

She watched him transform.

"Hey," He points at the book. "It's your line."

"Oh," She looks down, coughs. "'Any me!'"

"Oh my god," He groans. "You're the worst Juliet I've ever seen! Okay, maybe the second worst,"

"Then just imagine the real Juliet," She says. "They casted one already, right?"

"Yeah,"

"Then,"

"It would be super helpful to the process if - "

" 'She speaks:’, “ She sits up straight, not looking at the book. ‘O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art – '"

She gives him a sideways glance. It's a challenge.

He grins, eyes glinting. "‘As glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a winged messenger of heaven,’”

The two shoot lines back and forth.

In a high voice and fluttering lashes, looking bashful and a little coy he says, " 'O Romeo, Romeo!' ”

She sniggers.

"Excuse me, ma'm, I am trying not to break character here!" But his smile is bursting at the seams and blindingly sunny. " 'Wherefore art thou Rom –‘ “

He chokes on a laugh.

She seals hair lips to keep from smiling.

"What!" He bursts with a slap on his leg. "I earned that smile! Come on, let me see it,"

She bears his teeth to him.

"That doesn't count and I demand my prize!”

ix.

"There's good news," The Theater Director started. "And bad news."

She is silent.

"You did get Hamlet,"

Her eyes widened.

"But. Some other faculty members really don't think that a girl should be playing a boy. You saw how they were with the bathrooms,"

She sealed her lops.

"You could get a lot of hate for this,"

"I don't care,"

The Theater Director sighs. "You're a tough kid, but ... It's draining on anyone. Additionally, some more traditionally aligned acting schools might not want to take you,"

She shrugs.

"Girls've played Hamlet before, but they're really conservative around here. I can help you manage it at school, but other than that - you're on your own. I think you should tell your parents - "

"I'll do it. I don't care."

"That's just it," The Theater Director sighs. "Anyone who says that really, really does."

"I want to play Hamlet - so I will."

"I think you'll be a great Hamlet," They say. "I just want you to know what's brewing on the horizon, kid.”

x.

"Oh my god," He follows her from the doorway, craning his neck to watch her walk into the kitchen.

Her cheeks start to warm. "Shut up."

"Your hair!" He yells. "Where's the rest!"

"I told you to shut up!" She snaps, gulping down the glass of water and slamming the glass.

"It actually looks kinda cute on you, though,"

She groans, her face becoming even hotter. "What part of 'shut up' do you not understand?"

He pouts. "You seemed kind of unconfident about it, so I thought you might have wanted a compliment."

"What I want - "

"Is for me to shut up, yeah," He raises his hands in mock surrender.

She frowns.

He gets out of his seat, walking around the table, standing in the doorway.

"Whatever you're about to say, I don't want to hear it."

"Well, I want to tell you. I -"

"Move."

"No," He straightens.

“Move.”

"Your mean looks don't work on me anymore. I'm used to - "

She yanks him down by the collar in one quick movement, his back meeting the wall.

"It's like you're trying to piss me off," She growls, teeth bared.

"Just a little," His eyelids lower, voice growing deeper.

"Why is it so hard for you to shut up?" Her eyes fall downwards for a second.

He brings his hand up her arm. "Why don't you make me?"

She can hear him breathing and it pisses her off.

The sun is hitting her directly in the eye.

She slams her head forward and their mouths clash, violent and messy. He brings his arms up and she grabs him by the wrist, tearing herself off and breathing as if she'd just finished a monologue.

She covered her mouth with her fist and storms off, never meeting his eyes.

xi.

Indecision is the essence of Hamlet, but she didn't want to be this in character.

She hit her head against the desk.

This was so stupid? Why did she do that? She thought she hated him?

If she really hated him, if she didn't like him somewhere deep deep DEEP down, she wouldn't have kissed him. Not that a kiss probably meant that much these days - For her moment, her mind dipped into a thought that made her curl her lip in disgust. If she did like him, which she wasn't sure if she did or didn't, she wasn't going to be a fangirl about it. She was going to ball it up into a fist and keep it right -

She forced herself up from her desk and swung the door open. "What the fuck do you want?"

"You've been avoiding me," He whines, leaning into the doorway.

"Yeah, so?"

"It's not because I'm a bad kisser, am I? I've had lots of practice,"

She tries to shove him but he plants his feet.

"Come onnnn, we can't just not talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?"

"That I liked it," He all but purrs. "And I think you liked it too,"

She turns her head. "I was trying to get you to shut up."

"Yeah, right. Have you considered that may have fe-

She grabs him by the collar again.

"I asked you a question. What do you fucking want?"

"More," He says, diving in.

xii.

“Are we dating?" He asks on one of their walks home. The sky is burning.

"I just make out with you sometimes," She says cooly. "I wouldn't call that dating."

He brings a hand to his chest. "Why would you say it like that? Aren't I more than just a pair of lips to you?"

"Not particularly,"

He deflates.

"Are we dating?" He asks on one of their walks home. The sky is burning.

"I just make out with you sometimes," She says cooly. "I wouldn't call that dating."

He brings a hand to his chest. "Why would you say it like that? Aren't I more than just a pair of lips to you?"

"Not particularly,"

He deflates.

"Besides," She says quickly, although she's not sure why she's back-peddling. "We shouldn't be 'dating,' anyway. You have no money - "

"- Hey -"

"And It's college exam season. And your playing CC Baxter,"

"You should have tried out with me,"

"I was already Cleopatra by the time the auditions started," She says with a roll of the eyes. "I'm not a fucking masochist,"

"I find it sad that we've never acted together," He says.

"We probably won't. We're already well established."

"I think we'd be great together," He stops. "'Gands and then, with public accusation, uncovered / slander, unmitigated rancor - "

"O God, that I was a man," She finds herself saying, a smirk curving. "I would eat his heart in the marketplace.

“See,” He grins at the dirty look she’s given him. “We’re already halfway there! We’ve got great chemistry!”

xiii.

"You think he'd show up for graduation," She says, eyes darting the crowd. "Or at least yours,"

"What?"

"You're the son he wished he got instead,"

"Aww, don't say that."

She glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "It's true, though."

There's a beat of silence between them.

"Ug," He groans. "If I'd had just one more A, I would have been Valedictorian."

"Shut up," She says. "You're in the top ten."

"That's what makes it worse. I was so close I could taste it,"

"Ungrateful," She sneers, but she knows.

He sticks his tongue out at her.

xiv.

She should probably feel more excited to leave this place, but she doesn't. She doesn't feel excited about college either, really.

At least you're getting out, the Theater Director had said.

She'd never said much about her Father, but they'd known somehow.

Was it that obvious? Obvious. He'd said something like that forever ago.

She still didn't get it.

"Do you want me to help you with some of the boxes?"

"No," She says.

"It would go faster," He sing-songs, following her down the stairs."

"I've got it,"

"Okay," He says. "What if I said I had an ulterior motive,"

She gives him a look.

He leans over the box. "Have a guess?"

She bumps him with the box and he takes it, putting it down. He leans down to kiss her once. "There, it should be super easy to figure out now."

"Just stop talking,"

"Sure," He says, connecting their mouths again.

.She's not exactly sure how they make it up the steps and into his room when her back hits the mattress.

"Oww," She hisses, the boards creaking beneath her.

"Oh, sorry,"

"You're a klutz, you know that?"

"Hey," He swats at her hands. "No bullying when we're making out,"

"What," She says, gripping the back of his neck. "You gonna cry?"

She flips them over, fully smirking.

"Wow, be careful - that's super close to a smile."

"Shut up," She grumbles.

"Make me,"

"God, you're so fucking - "

He leans up to press their lips together again, giving her another quick peck before falling away. “This isn’t your first time, yeah?”

"So what if it is," She scoffs.

"Then it's supposed to be nice." He says. "You're manhandling me. I'm delicate."

She clicks her tongue. "My Father could come home any minute now. If we're going to do this, we don't have time to be nice."

He touches their noses together. "That's your opinion,"

She scoffs.

He pulls her back down, rolling them over. Surprise sparks in her eyes, already blown wide. "We've done it your way. It's my turn."

xv.

She finishes her last button and starts to stand, but he catches her arm. "What,"

"What's wrong?"

She thinks about it for a moment, considers saying nothing. "We should probably stop doing this."

"'This'?" He says. "Why'da say that?"

"College is where people meet their spouses, right? We're in each other's way, then. Nothing's going to come of this - wait, why are you smiling? I mean it."

"I know you do," He says, the blanket sliding down to his hips.

"Then why are you still smiling?"

"Because I don't believe you,"

She throws a pillow at him.

xvi.

All of the girls huddled around the window, looking outside,

"Excuse me, excuse me - " She froze.

"Happy birthday!" He said brightly.

Shit. She'd completely forgot. "Uh, ha, thanks? You could have just, like, called? Like a normal person,"

He waved a hand. "I was in the area,"

"Yeah?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Then, "Hey, you want to go out? I'll pay and everything - it's your birthday after all,"

"Yes, I know, you already told me," She can feel the eyes blaring back into her head and tries to push him a little.

He plants his feet.

"Let's go,"

"Why?" He turns his head to look at the girls behind them and has the gall to wave.

"Don't be such an attention whore," She groans.

"What are you talking about," He says. "I can't help if all the ladies love me,"

"Why?" He turns his head to look at the girls behind them and has the gall to wave.

"Don't be such an attention whore," She groans.

"What are you talking about," He says. "I can't help if all the ladies love me,"

She scoffs.

He moved and she stumbled a little, but he caught her by the shoulders. "Except you, of course,"

"Oh my God," She says. "They're going to fucking kill me."

xvii.

"Wait," He says. "You never talk about me?"

"No," She says. "What is there to talk about?"

"Uh, our entire - "He moves a hand between them. "Is wild. I'm popular? You hate me? We live together? That's like prime set up right there,"

"It's not like anything really happened,"

He gives her a look of disbelief. "Did you forget we, like, screwed?"

She signed. "Please just say ‘fucked’ like the rest of us,"

"So you didn't forget,"

She rolls her eyes. "Look. We're doing the same thing we were then - nothing changed."

"Do ... you want it to?"

She stared at him then. "Like what? What do you mean?"

"Nevermind," He said, pulling out another fry.

Her eyes fell to her own plate.

xviii.

She pulls her sweater over her head.

Where are you going after all that?"

"I've got to drive back, asshole," She smooths her sweatshirt. "And I have class in the morning,"

"Skip it," He says. "Aren't you tired?"

"Of course, I'm fucking tired," She says, and her voice sounds strangely hollow.

He rolls against her back. "You never stay."

She's very still for a long time. "Move."

Without looking at him, she moves to lay on top of the covers, still fully dressed.

She closes her eyes.

Their arms are touching.

xix.

"What are you doing here?" She realizes it's a stupid question as soon as she's asked it.

"I found him," He said.

"Oh," She looks down at her Father, tangled in plastic.

She hovers near the foot of the bed but no closer. Her mouth is dry. "Is he going to be okay?"

"They don't know."

"What kind of answer is that?" It comes out exhausted instead of angry.

"The best they can do,"

She's staring at her Father, steaming silently.

"You want some coffee?" He says.

She doesn't drink coffee, but they end up at the Starbucks anyway. Why does a hospital need a Starbucks?

"Uh," She begins, then doesn't say anything for a while. "How's the girlfriend?"

"Oh," His eyes drop for a second. "We broke up."

She squints at him.

"She was really stressed - and our jobs were super taxing - it's whatever, we just decided it wouldn't work,"

She draws her lips into a thin line. "You're l-"

They both turn their head at a high squeal.

"Hey! Aren't you that actor from - "

She doesn't watch TV much, so the words that come out of the girl's mouth don't really mean anything. But to be recognized, she realizes he's got to be more than an extra.

So it was working out a little bit.

"Wait," The girl looks down at her. "Am ... am I interrupting something?"

"No," She sips the coffee he had ordered for her. It tastes like the color beige.

"Ooh, um, can I ... can I have your autograph?"

"Of course!" He chirps.

"Some things never change," She says, supping her coffee and watching the girl shuttle away. "You've just made her week,"

"Yeah, well. What, do people not come up to Broadway stars like that the same way?"

"I don't know. I've never been really approachable, remember."

"Eh," He says. "You know your Dad still treats me like a traitor?"

"Considering I'm going to be rapping on stage next week so I'm not that much better,"

"Oh? He hums interestedly. "Hamilton?"

"It's off-broadway, so I get to play Hamilton himself,"

He whistles, giving her a grin. "It's the perfect role."

They sip their coffee quietly for a few minutes in silence.

"I'm proud of you," He says. "I know nobody probably told you, but I..."

She pulls her lips into a thin line.

"You know, I don't think your Dad ever love theater."

She tilts her head toward him.

"It's like," He looked at his Frappuccino. "When I found you on the stairs that time, in high school?"

"I remember," She says flatly.

"Your eyes - they were full of this - "

"Anger?" She said, echoing her own Therapy induced realizations.

"No," He shook his head. "Well, maybe a little bit. But I'd say it was ... anguish, like you were burning alive,"

She can only stare at him.

"He had the same look when I saw him perform, I'm saying. It's not love," He meets her eyes. "It's desperation."

xx.

"I can't hear you," She bends down a little more, his dry lips bruising her ear.

"I'm sorry," He wraps. "For being so hard on you."

She inhales. "I'm sorry. Forgive me."

She stands up but can see that he's still murmuring. "I'll be back."

She all but trips into the hallway, gripping the railing so tightly it bleaches her knuckles. She likes the torn skin of her lips.

A hand falls over hers and she stiffens before slowly relaxing.

"You're shaking,"

"He said he says he’s sorry," She says, locking her lips again. She wants to say more, but nothing comes. She sniffs.

He gives her hand a light squeeze. "You don't have to accept it," He says. She didn't know what she had expected him to say, but not that. "You don't owe him anything."

Her lip trembles, and she drops her head back to his shoulder.