18. Xander #2
“I want to manage bands, Mom. I want to take the thing I love—music, concerts, the energy of live performance—and build a career from it. I want to be the person who finds the next Ashes of the Kings in some basement venue and puts them on a stage. And the sports management because—” She glances at me.
Quick. “Because fighters need managers too. Athletes with complicated careers and messy lives need someone who understands the mess. And I’m pretty fluent in mess. ”
Gideon smiles. “Then we support that. One hundred percent.”
Alice kneels beside her. “I followed my dream, Penny. I painted in a garage for twenty years before anyone noticed. And I was happy. That’s all that matters.”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m proud of you, Penny.”
She looks at our hands. At the bracelet on her wrist. The pale strip on mine.
“I’m trying,” she says.
The door opens and Kaiden, Danny, Ryan, Iz, and Cat fill into the MacHale kitchen. The full assembly.
Iz sees Penny first. He always sees Penny first—the particular radar of a boy whose nervous system has been recalibrated to register her emotional state from across a room. He crosses the kitchen in three strides.
His hands go to her face. Not the mouth—the cheeks. Cupping. His thumbs brushing the tear tracks that are still drying on her skin. The Iz touch—the one that asks with its gentleness instead of demanding with its grip.
“You’ve been crying.” Not a question.
She nods. Small.
He wipes the last tear with his thumb. Leans down. Kisses her forehead—slow, deliberate, his lips lingering against her hairline. Then pulls her against his chest. Arms around her. Her face in his shoulder. The full hold of a boy who is choosing comfort over performance.
“You’re okay,” he murmurs into her hair. “Whatever happened, you’re okay. I’m here.”
She nods against his chest. Doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to. Iz reads her body the way other people read words—the tension in her shoulders, the grip of her hands on his shirt, the tremble that tells him the storm isn’t over but the worst of it has passed.
Cat appears. Touches Penny’s arm. “Upstairs?”
Penny pulls back from Iz. Nods. He releases her—his hand trailing down her arm, the last point of contact lingering on her wrist, on the bracelet. The girls head for the stairs.
I watch them go. Iz watches them go. Two boys in the same kitchen watching the same girl disappear upstairs. The symmetry of our positions is a joke the universe is telling at our expense.
Kaiden: “Let them go. Cat’s got it. Living room.”
Gideon brings pizza. Pats my shoulder. “I’ll be upstairs.” The door closes.
Five boys. Two couches. The muted TV. Pizza getting cold because nobody is eating—the appetite suppression that occurs when you’re about to do something that requires your whole chest.
“No more secrets,” I say. “For real this time. We empty every closet. Every skeleton. After tonight, there’s nothing left to hide.”
Ryan goes first. He leans forward. Elbows on knees. The posture of a boy delivering a briefing.
“Ally’s father arranged a marriage. To a man our fathers’ age.
Maybe older. The deal is Ally in exchange for political connections—her body as currency.
The man’s had other wives. They all… disappear.
When they get older, he trades them for younger ones.
Ally’s mother was sold to her father as a child.
It’s generational. Women in that family exist to be traded. ”
Danny: “What the actual fuck.”
Kaiden: “Has she told anyone? Her mom?”
Ryan: “Her mom was sold the same way. She doesn’t see it as wrong because it’s all she’s ever known. And Tobias—her little brother—is leverage. If Ally doesn’t comply, they threaten him.”
Kaiden, quiet: “Ryan. Have you slept together?”
Danny: “Dude, come on—”
Kaiden: “If she’s being sold as a virgin and she’s not one, this is life or death. I’m not being nosy. I’m asking because the answer changes the threat level. Have you?”
Ryan stops pacing. Faces us. “Yes.”
The word sits in the room.
“We tried to stop. For months. Everything else first. But we love each other, Kaid. And one night it just… happened. And now she’s not what he was promised and if he finds out—” His jaw works. “He’ll kill her. And Tobias. And it’ll be because I couldn’t keep my hands off the girl I love.”
I lean forward. “It’s not your fault. The dads are already in motion. We give them another case. Callum. Arthur. Gideon. Between them, they have the reach.”
Ryan nods. Sits. The deflation of a boy who has set down something heavy.
Kaiden: “My turn. No secrets. Cat and I are solid. She’s in therapy. I’m supporting her. The Valentina situation is handled—I’ve told her I’m not interested in every language I know. She keeps coming. That’s her problem. I’m clean.”
Danny shifts on the couch. Rubs the back of his neck. “You guys know about Daisy. She’s in Costa Rica. Treatment center. Mom and Dad got her out before Reece could get his hooks in again. She’s… she’s trying. I don’t know if it’s going to stick this time, but she’s trying.”
He pauses. The neck rub intensifies. The particular gesture of a boy who is about to say something that will cost him social capital and is calculating whether the currency is worth it.
“And, uh. I think Becca Carney is hot.”
Ryan’s head snaps up. “Becca? Like scary Becca?”
Danny: “Yeah.”
Ryan: “Becca with the braids and the death stare?”
Danny: “I said what I said.”
Kaiden: “Honestly? She’s terrifying. But solid choice.”
Danny: “All of you shut up.”
Laughter. Brief. The valve that teenage boys use when the pressure gets too dense. Then every eye in the room finds Iz.
He’s in the corner of the couch. Arms crossed. The armor posture. He’s been quiet—listening, processing, running the internal calculus of a boy who knows his turn is coming and has been rehearsing and is still not ready.
Kaiden: “Your turn, Iz. No more ‘we had a thing, it’s over.’ The real version.”
Iz exhales. Runs his hands down his face. Looks at the ceiling. Looks at the floor. Looks at me.
“Fine.”
He uncrosses his arms. Leans forward. Puts his elbows on his knees. The vulnerability posture—the exact position his mother would recognize from a thousand therapy sessions.
“Penny first.” He holds my gaze. “I have feelings for her. Real ones. Not the hallway performance. Not strategy. And I need to say what those feelings actually are because I’ve been vague about it and vague isn’t honest.”
The room tenses. Danny shifts. Ryan’s eyes bounce between Iz and me. Kaiden is very still.
“There’s the attraction. And I’m not going to pretend there isn’t—she’s beautiful. She’s sexy. When she wears those goddamn Converse with the uniform and the teal streaks catch the light—yeah. I’m human. I’m attracted to her. Who wouldn’t be?”
My jaw tightens. The green beast stirs. But I hold it. The chain.
“And there’s the love. I love Penny. I love her laugh and her playlists and the way she shoves my shoulder when I say something dumb. I love that she trusts me. I love being the person she reaches for when she’s scared.”
He pauses. The next part is the hard part. I can see it approaching on his face like weather.
“But it’s not the same, X. It’s not how you love her.
” He looks at me. Full face. No mask. “You love her like you’d die for her.
Like she’s oxygen. Like the world doesn’t have a point if she’s not in it.
I don’t love her like that. I love her like…
like she’s the closest thing to being loved that I’ve felt in months.
And that’s not fair to her. Because I’m filling a hole, X.
I know I’m filling a hole. A hole you dug when you pushed her away.
And I know—I’ve always known—that the hole is shaped like you.
That it will always be shaped like you. That I can pour myself into it and it will never close because it wasn’t made for me. ”
The sentence lands in the room like a stone in water. Ripples spreading outward. Every boy absorbing it.
“It’s always been you and Penny. Since the bracelets.
Since the treehouse. Since before any of us existed in her world.
I was the intermission. The warm body that showed up when the leading man left the stage.
And I’m not saying that to be pitiful—I’m saying it because it’s the truth and we said no more lies. ”
He sits back. The particular emptiness that follows a confession—the body lighter, the chest hollow, the strange freedom of having nothing left to hide.
“And it hurts. It fucking hurts. Because Bella doesn’t want me. Penny wants you. I’m the boy everybody leans on and nobody stays for.”
The room is silent. The silence of boys who are hearing their brother say the thing he’s never said and recognizing that the boy they thought was the strongest is the one who’s been quietly falling apart.
Danny: “Iz…”
“I’m fine.” The automatic response. The Iz response—the one that comes out before the honest one has time to form.
Kaiden: “You’re not fine. And that’s okay. But we need the rest. Bella. What actually happened.”
Iz runs his hands through his hair. Grips. The gesture of a person physically trying to keep their head together.
“The homecoming dance. The one you organized, Kaid. Bella and I were… we’d been circling each other for months.
The tension. The looks. The almost-conversations that never quite landed.
I thought that night was going to be it.
I was going to tell her how I felt. I’d rehearsed the words.
Planned the moment. I walked into the back room to find her. ”
He stops. Swallows.
“She was on her knees. With Tyler Braxton. Some senior.”
The room absorbs it.
“She saw me in the doorway. Looked right at me. With him still—” He doesn’t finish. “And she said: ‘Guess you’re not the only one I keep entertained.’”
Danny: “Jesus Christ.”
Ryan: “That’s… ice cold.”
“But here’s the thing.” Iz sits forward again.
The posture of a boy who has been replaying a moment for weeks and has noticed something the rest of us haven’t.
“The way she said it. It wasn’t cruel exactly.
It was… performed. Like she’d practiced the line.
Like she wanted me to see it. Like she needed me to walk away and that was the only way she could make sure I would. ”
Kaiden: “You think she did it on purpose? To push you away?”
“I don’t know. Every time I’ve tried to talk to her since, she shuts down. Goes cold. Pushes me out. But her eyes, Kaid—her eyes don’t match her mouth. Her mouth says ‘fuck off’ but her eyes look… scared. Like there’s something she’s not telling me. Something she can’t tell me.”
Ryan, quiet: “Like someone made her do it.”
Iz looks at his hands. “I don’t know. She won’t let me in.
And until she does, I can’t help. So I channeled everything into Penny because Penny lets me in and Bella doesn’t.
And that’s the whole truth. No more ‘we had a thing, it’s over.
’ We had something that got destroyed, and I’m still trying to figure out whether it was destroyed by her or by someone else and what to do with my fucking feelings. ”
The room sits with it. Five boys who have each placed their heaviest thing on the table. Ryan’s Ally. Danny’s Daisy. Danny’s Becca. My everything. Iz’s Bella.
Kaiden leans forward. The leader. “Reece is handled. The dads have the evidence. X’s footage seals it. Ally—we bring her situation to Arthur and Callum. Bella—” He looks at Iz. “That’s yours, brother. When she’s ready, you’ll know. We’ll be there.”
He looks around. At each of us.
“No more secrets. From now on, if something’s wrong, you say it. Group chat. To a face. Three a.m. phone call. I don’t care when or how. You say it. We almost lost Penny because she didn’t. I’m not losing any of you.”
Iz catches my eye. The bruise on his cheekbone fading. The look he gives me is not forgiveness. Not peace. The particular acknowledgment of two boys who love the same girl and have laid that truth bare in front of the people who matter and survived the exposure.
From upstairs: laughter. Penny and Cat. The real laugh—the belly one. Every boy pauses to listen.
That sound. That laugh. That’s the frequency we’ve been fighting for. Every fight, every secret, every hallway and locker room and midnight phone call—all of it was to protect the conditions that make that sound possible.
No more secrets. No more carrying alone. We said it at the pool house. We said it in the group chat. We said it tonight. And this time—every closet empty, every skeleton named, every boy in this room seen—we mean it.