Chapter 17 Kyle
Kyle
Kyle: How are you doing with Leo?
Lily: Good.
Kyle: Don't you want to know how I'm doing with Jeremy?
Lily: No need.
This year, my parents' marriage was falling apart in real time, and there was nothing subtle about it. I'd forgotten how bad it had been during this period (or maybe I'd blocked it out from my mind intentionally).
They couldn't be in the same room for more than ten minutes without finding something to argue about.
The tone of someone's voice. Whose turn was it to take out the trash?
How much money was being spent on groceries?
It didn't matter what sparked it; the result was always the same: raised voices, slammed doors, and a tension so thick it made the air in our house feel suffocating.
The only time they managed to maintain a fragile peace was when Aria and I were around.
They'd have fake smiles and speak to each other in clipped, overly polite tones that were somehow worse than the yelling.
Clearly, I didn't realize it at the time, but now it was all too obvious. They hated each other.
Now I can understand why, in my real life, they didn't speak to each other. They've done too much damage to each other to be forgotten.
Some nights I wondered if that's how Lily saw us, as two people who'd hurt each other so much that there was no turning back. And that thought, along with my parents' screams, sometimes kept me awake.
My accident had kept them calm for a while, but apparently, the truce was over.
And they have spent the last two nights literally screaming at each other.
One thing I was worried about was that if I could clearly hear my parents from my bed, Aria definitely could too, so on the third night of listening to their scream, I decided to go to her room.
When I opened the door, she had two pillows pressed over her ears, trying to block out the noises.
"Hey," I said softly, sitting beside her. "Want me to stay for a bit?"
She nodded, giving me space so I could lie down. I pulled up music on my phone and started singing to her until she finally started laughing at my horrendous voice.
"Our parents hate each other," she whispered when the music stopped.
"They don't hate each other," I lied. "They're just going through a rough patch."
"So, when will it get better?"
I didn't have an answer for her ten years ago, and I don't have one now. Because in our timeline, it never got better. It just ended.
And now I felt even guiltier because I had left as soon as I could for Australia.
I'd escaped. But Aria had been stuck here for years, dealing with their deteriorating marriage alone until she was old enough to leave, too.
I'd abandoned my little sister to this toxic environment because I was too focused on my own pain without realizing that there were people who needed me here.
Aria had paid the price for my cowardice. In our present, she is distant and doesn't express herself too much. We didn't have the best relationship in my present, and sometimes I felt like I didn't even know her.
Now, I'm old enough to see precisely what is happening in this house, and I'm starting to understand why we are no longer close.
Some parents stay together "for the kids," convinced that a united family is always better than a broken one. They think children need both parents under one roof, that divorce is inherently more damaging than constant conflict. But they're wrong.
Growing up in a house where your parents can barely look at each other, where every conversation is a potential landmine, where the tension is so constant you forget what peace feels like, that messes you up in ways that are hard to articulate.
You learn that love equals fighting. You learn that commitment means suffering. You learn to walk as quietly as possible, read emotional cues, and make yourself small, so you don't become another thing for them to argue about.
And we learn that if we want peace, the best we can do is escape as soon as possible.
Aria and I had both fled the moment we could. She went to college across the country, and I went even farther. We'd told ourselves it was about opportunities, about following our dreams, but really it was about getting out of here. We couldn't breathe in that house anymore.
"You know what?" I finally said to Aria, "I think it would get better. I will try to fix it."
She smiled, leaning back on my chest, until she finally fell asleep as if my confirmation were enough to give her the hope she needed for tonight.
Meanwhile, I started thinking about what I could do differently this time.
What would happen if, in this timeline, I tried to fix things with my parents?
What if I encouraged them to go to counseling?
Would they still get divorced? Would that be better or worse for Aria and me?
And if they stayed together, if they worked through whatever was tearing them apart, would I still have an excuse to leave the country when I finished school?
Because that's what their fights had given me, permission to run away. If my family was already broken, what did it matter if I was on the other side of the world?
But if I fixed things here, if I kept them together, would I be trapped in this town forever?
The thought made me feel like a terrible person. I should want my parents to be happy, and I should want Aria to grow up in a stable home. But part of me worried that fixing their marriage meant sacrificing my own escape route.
"You're not even trying," Jeremy complained on Friday as we sat in the cafeteria. "I set up the perfect opportunity for you to talk to her yesterday, and you just nodded and walked away. Do you want my help or not, pretty boy?"
"I do," I assured him. "I'm just... nervous. She's not just anyone, you know?"
What he didn't know is that she and I had done more than just talk already, and she made it pretty clear that she wanted me away from her, at least for now.
Jeremy's expression softened. "You really love her, don't you? This isn't just some conquest thing."
"No," I said, too fast for my taste. I didn't want to be open about my feelings for Lily because she'd made it clear that what I felt wasn't love, it was longing.
And part of me felt stupid for still thinking about her.
But I decided to go along with it, "I mean, of course I love her, but the problem is bigger than just love. "
He studied me for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied with what he saw. "Okay, new approach. Instead of these contrived meetings, let's get to the root of what's holding you back. What are you afraid of?"
I looked at him as if he had grown two heads.
What was I afraid of? Lily hating me forever? Is Leo going to prison again? Oliver dying? All of the above?
I think what I was most worried about was disappointing the people I loved again—not being able to be enough even when I had everything going for me. Talking to Lily right now wasn't just about a stupid crush; it was about trying to show her I was someone different. Someone she could count on now.
I was afraid of being the same person I'd been before.
The coward who'd testified against an innocent boy because it was easier than standing up for what was right.
The selfish kid who'd run away to Australia rather than face the consequences of his choices.
The friend who'd valued his own comfort over someone else's freedom.
Things weren't so easy right now. It's easier for someone to trust you when you're a stranger than when you were someone you once knew and who's already disappointed you.
"I guess I'm afraid of messing things up," I finally said. "Of saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining any chance I might have."
Jeremy nodded. "That's actually pretty normal. Most guys just barrel ahead without thinking about the consequences, but you're different. You actually care about getting it right."
"And I just don’t want to get it right, I want to make sure she knows I’m a changed man."
Jeremy tilted his head, considering this. "But isn't that kind of backward? You're so focused on proving you've changed that you're not actually just... being different. You're performing change instead of living it."
This little boy was right again. I started thinking about how upset Lily had been when I forced a kiss on her, how I always wanted to impose what I felt and believed on her over what she felt.
Maybe I should make a change from now on if I wanted her to know I was truly different. "You're smarter than you look."
"I know," Jeremy replied with a grin. "It's part of my charm."
"Can I ask you something?" I said, deciding to push my luck a little. This situation wasn't about me, and I needed to move forward on my mission. "You seem to understand relationships pretty well for someone who claims not to be interested in anyone."
"I didn't say I wasn't interested in anyone," he corrected me. "I said not everyone in this school is up to my standards."
"Right. So there is someone."
He crossed his arms and gave a deep sigh, like he needed to think and process my words.
This was more delicate than I'd anticipated.
I'd been thinking about Jeremy's feelings as an obstacle to overcome, a variable to manage in our mission to save Leo.
But standing here, seeing him trying not to look vulnerable, I realized he wasn't just a plot point in someone else's story.
He was a scared kid dealing with feelings he couldn't safely express, in a world that wouldn't accept him if he did.
And I was using that fear, that vulnerability, to manipulate him into helping with my own agenda.
"Can I tell you something?" Jeremy asked me, lowering his voice. "Something you have to promise not to tell anyone else?"
My pulse quickened. Was this it? Was he going to confide in me about his feelings for Leo?
"Of course," I said, trying not to sound too eager. "I can keep a secret."
Jeremy leaned forward, checking over both shoulders to make sure no one was listening. "I have a crush on someone, too. Someone I really shouldn't."
I forced my expression to remain neutral even as my mind raced. "Why shouldn't you?"
"Because it's complicated. Because it would cause problems if anyone found out. Because..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Because I can't even say who it is without potentially ruining everything."
"I understand," I said, and I did, more than he could know. "But maybe it's not as hopeless as you think."
Jeremy gave me a skeptical look. "That's easy for you to say. Your crush is on someone normal and acceptable. Mine is..." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Anyway, I have a proposition for you."
"I'm listening."
"I'll help you with Lily, really help you, not just give advice, if you promise to do one thing for me."
"What's that?" I asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.
"Talk to her. Today. An actual conversation, not just those weird, intense eye-contact moments you two keep having.
If you do that, I'll tell you who my forbidden crush is, and you can help me find the courage to talk to that person.
Or maybe help me with figuring out if he has feelings for me, too. "
It wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for, but it was progress. If I could get him to open up about his feelings for Leo, I could find a way to help him navigate them more safely this time around.
"And what do you gain from me solving my situation with Lily?"
"Realizing that even seemingly impossible problems can be solved."
"Well, sounds like a plan then," I said, extending my hand.
Jeremy shook it firmly, then grinned. "And who knows? Maybe if things work out between you and Lily, I'll find the courage to pursue my own happiness too."
I smiled. The plan was working. Jeremy was starting to trust me, to see me as a confidant. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I was using him for my personal benefit.
Was I any better than Oliver, who'd used a secret for his own gain? Was I any better than the person who had framed Leo, playing with people's lives like pieces on a chessboard?
But then I thought about what was at stake. If I didn't gain Jeremy's trust, if I couldn't navigate this situation carefully, Leo would end up in prison again. The video would be released, the bullying would start, and everything would spiral toward that same terrible ending.
Sometimes you had to make difficult choices for the greater good. Sometimes you had to use morally gray methods to achieve a moral outcome.
At least, that's what I told myself to feel better.
Besides, not everything I'd told Jeremy was a lie. I did care about Lily. More than I probably should, given our complicated history. And part of me really was afraid of messing things up with her again.
Before I could respond, Oliver arrived and pushed Jeremy to the ground.
"Hey man, what's going on?" I said, annoyed by his action. I passed my hand to Jeremy, who took it to stand up and compose himself.
"I thought this weirdo was bothering you. Let's go to class before he keeps filling your mind with strange ideas."
I was surprised by the way Oliver referred to Jeremy. I knew my friend used to bully several boys at school, especially those younger than him, but I hadn't seen his actions so directly. "I don't like you talking like that. Jeremy isn't a weirdo."
Jeremy intervened before I could say anything else, "Calm down, Kyle. I was leaving anyway. See you later."
I watched him disappear down the hall as Oliver grabbed my shoulder. "Be careful with him. I don't trust his personality, and I don't want anything weird to happen to you if you hang out with him."
I didn't answer. People like Oliver were better to have as friends than as enemies, but I felt bad accepting his bullying indirectly.
Had he always been like this?