Chapter 16 #2
He snorts, unimpressed.
“We were fourteen. You haven’t been to a class in years.”
“Okay, maybe I’m not a black belt like you, but I box now, too.”
That almost earns a grudging smile.
“Look, I know you’re a badass,” he says. “But there are things out there you can’t fight your way out of.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“That’s not the point.” He leans in, hands gripping my shoulders, firm and grounding. “You just have to be more careful, okay? I need you to promise me.”
“God, you sound like my mother,” I joke, trying to deflect and lighten the weight pressing down on the moment. “You going to warn me the Underworld’s coming after me next?”
He doesn’t laugh.
“Promise me,” he repeats, his voice so serious it stills me completely.
The lump in my throat stops me from joking again, because beneath all the frustration, what I hear is concern.
Fear.
Love.
Even if he won’t say those words.
More than anything, this conversation shows me how much he really does care. His protectiveness—it means something. You don’t get that upset over someone unless they really matter.
“Okay,” I say. “I promise.”
“Thank you.”
He leans back, exhaling hard. For a second, he looks… tired. Worn down in a way that makes him seem far older than his eighteen years.
“I just… I worry about you, alright? Probably more than I should,” he confesses.
I shift closer, my hand finding his knee, resting there lightly.
“That’s really sweet,” I say, “but I don’t need you playing hero.
I just need my best friend back.” My voice trembles, full of everything I’ve been holding in.
“I really miss you, Hay. And I—I’ve been a mess.
You’ve been so distant, and I’ve felt completely alone, like I don’t even matter to you.
And it sucks.” I don’t pull my hand away, even as I steel myself for what comes next.
“So what is it? What’s going on with you? ”
He stills. Not just quiet—completely, unnervingly still.
“If it’s Amber, I can handle it,” I say, pushing past the thud in my chest when he doesn’t answer right away. “Whatever it is… I can deal. As long as you and I are okay. Just, please, stop shutting me out.”
Silence stretches between us, long enough that it starts to feel dangerous. Like if one more second passes, the ground between us might crack in two.
“It’s not Amber,” he finally says.
“It’s not?”
He exhales, a slow, weighted breath, and shakes his head once, deliberate. “I never meant to push you away. Al, I…”
I lean forward, hope blooming painfully in my chest.
“Yes?” I breathe.
This is it.
This is the moment he says what I’ve been aching to hear. That he misses me. That I matter. That I’m still his best friend and always will be.
“I’m leaving Laguna Hills.”
The words hit like a punch.
I jerk back.
“You’re… what?”
His eyes meet mine, full of sadness. Regret. And something else, something raw and fragile that looks an awful lot like dread.
“Turns out my dad’s business is worse than my parents let on. There’s a hostile takeover, legal fallout… it’s bad.” He swallows hard. “They don’t think they’ll be able to come back. Not for a long time. And they need me. When the semester ends… I’m moving to Athens.”
“No.” I shake my head furiously. “You can’t.”
“Al—”
“NO!” I repeat, louder, sharper. Like if I say it with enough force, I can undo what he’s telling me. “This is college. You can’t just… leave in the middle of it.”
Cold spreads through me, fast and numbing, ice pouring straight into my veins.
This can’t be happening.
My best friend—my only friend—is leaving?
The thought lands heavy and terrifying. How am I going to survive without him?
“I can finish school over there,” he explains. “I’ll get my degree in Greece.”
“And football?”
He shrugs, but there’s defeat in it. “It sucks. But Dad says it’s just a game. Family comes first.”
“And Argy?” My voice splinters. “Where will he live if you’re gone?”
There’s no way my mom will let me keep a hundred-pound dog in the apartment. I can already hear her reaction. I could try hiding him in my closet, but he’d bust out in five seconds flat.
“I’ll take him with me. He’ll be okay.”
“Well, I won’t!” The last word breaks in my mouth like glass. “What about me? I’m just supposed to lose you both?”
Argyros lifts his head and rests his chin on my knee. His warm eyes blink up at me, steady and achingly aware, like he understands exactly what’s happening and is grieving it too.
I cradle his face between my palms, trying to keep control of myself, but it’s no use. I lose it. The tears come, sharp and hot and blinding. Sadness hits me, so powerful it almost knocks me over.
“Please understand,” Hayes says, his voice hoarse now. “I don’t want to go, Al.”
“Then don’t.”
“I don’t have a choice.” He looks down, blinking like it’s taking all his strength to hold himself together.
“If there were any other option, believe me, I’d take it.
The thought of leaving everything I know…
of leaving you—” His voice falters, the words getting stuck in his throat.
“I guess that’s why I’ve been distant. Why I’ve been pushing you away. I don’t know how to say goodbye.”
“Please,” I beg. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”
He shakes his head, looking broken.
“What about my mom?” Panic rises fast, choking and relentless. “She’s slipping, Hayes. She’s not okay. I don’t know what I’m doing.” I stand, grabbing on to his arm like a lifeline. “I can’t do this without you.”
Cold, gnawing fear slithers through me, sinking its teeth into the deepest parts of my brain. And then a thought slips in, so dark, so terrifying, I barely let myself think it—
What if I’m just like her?
Another memory stirs. Last night, something impossible. Hayes appearing out of nowhere. Dylan’s body lifted and thrown as if it weighed nothing. I saw Hayes do something no human being is capable of. It was like something out of a superhero comic book—or a nightmare.
Maybe it was the alcohol.
Or maybe… it wasn’t.
What if I’m already starting to unravel?
And if I am—if I’m truly losing my grip on reality—how am I supposed to survive without Hayes here to pull me back? To ground me. To remind me what’s real.
Hayes rises slowly, the light shifting as his shadow falls across me. His hand comes to rest on the back of my head, fingers threading softly through my hair.
“You’re stronger than you think,” he says, his voice filled with sadness. “You don’t need me. You’ll be okay, I promise.”
Maybe he believes that.
Maybe he even wants it to be true.
But then I catch something in his expression, something cracked and unguarded, and for one reckless, aching second, I know.
Hayes needs me just as much as I need him.
Maybe even more.