Chapter Four
After school, the drive to Seth’s felt longer than usual, even though it wasn’t.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel as the hum of the engine filled the silence. Normally, I’d put music on without thinking. Anything to fill the gaps, to push back the noise in my head. But tonight, the radio stayed off.
The silence pressed down too heavy and sharp. It reminded me too much of when I used to sit in the music room at my old house, Lindie locking the door behind me, demanding music. Back then, silence was the enemy. Now, it felt like a punishment I was giving myself.
Streetlights flicked across the hood of my car, shadows moving in staccato bursts across the windshield. My mind followed the rhythm automatically, like a song trying to write itself in the quiet. But instead of melody, all I heard was the echo of Paxon’s voice.
I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. So much time with distance between us, only for him to suddenly sit across from me and insist he’d tutor me like it was nothing. But it wasn’t nothing. Not for me.
The pit in my stomach twisted tighter with every turn, every mile. By the time my neighborhood came into view, my chest felt like it was splintering apart, off-key and unresolved.
My house came up first, and I was tempted to just turn right into my driveway, hide my car in the garage and sit in the darkness of the house, pretending no one was home. It’d be so easy, preferred at the moment.
But it wasn’t me who was running away. Shittily at that. And I wasn’t going to be that person either. I had nothing to run away from. Seth told me I hadn’t done anything wrong. I needed to believe in that.
So I drove past my driveway and pulled into Seth’s instead, parking next to Paxon’s car.
I turned off my car. As it settled, I sat in the stillness, staring at the familiar two-story house that had managed to become my second home.
I stayed there for a moment, hands still on the wheel, staring at the building.
I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and told myself to move. Paxon was waiting.
My limbs felt like they were made of lead as I forced myself out of the car. The cold air hit me first, then the small crunch of gravel under my shoes. By the time I reached the front door, my heartbeat had steadied enough.
My feet dragged as I managed to go inside the warm house. The door clicked shut behind me.
Almost immediately, I heard the familiar thump-thump-thump of a heavy tail on hardwood. Bebe padded into the entryway, his massive frame nearly filling the space.
“Hey, boy,” I whispered, crouching before he could barrel into me. He leaned his full weight against my chest anyway, all muscle and heat, nearly knocking me back into the wall.
He was overwhelming in the best way.
I buried my fingers in the short fur around his neck, letting the simple, steady rhythm of his breathing calm the storm that had been building in my chest since lunch.
He huffed, a deep rumble vibrating against my palms, then swiped his tongue across my cheek before pulling back to study me with those dark, knowing eyes.
“You already know I’m a mess, don’t you?” I muttered, scratching behind his ear.
His tail thumped harder, hitting the wall with a dull rhythm.
I smiled despite myself. “Don’t tell anyone.”
For a moment, the tension in my chest eased. For a moment, it was just me and Bebe. No heavy silences, no grey eyes, no tutoring sessions I didn’t want but couldn’t escape.
Then footsteps creaked from deeper in the house, pulling me back into reality. Voices carried faintly from the kitchen, low and indistinct. My stomach tightened again.
I pressed one last kiss to the top of Bebe’s head and stood. “All right, wish me luck.”
He gave a sharp bark, protective, as if he knew exactly what I was about to face. He’d always been too in tune with my emotions.
I squared my shoulders and followed the sound of the voices to the kitchen and toward Paxon.
The smell of something warm and spicy hit me when I got near the kitchen door.
I peeked inside first, not ready to really face Paxon head on.
Seth was by the stove, stirring a pot in a slow and lazy movement.
Paxon sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island, elbows resting on the counter, hands wrapped around a glass of water.
“—I’m just saying,” Seth was speaking, his tone amusing and exasperated all at once. “If you kick the ball that hard at Calvin again, he’s going to quit playing with you altogether.”
Paxon’s laugh came in response, low and easy, the kind of laugh I hadn’t heard from him in months. “He asked me to go easy on him but if he’s going to try all those flashy moves he sees on TV, then I’m going to show him why an amateur needs to keep practicing the basics.”
“You’re nearly six feet tall of solid muscle,” Seth countered, stirring the pan. “He’s a seven-year-old twig with a soccer ball. Maybe learn what ‘go easy’ actually means.”
“He needs to toughen up. Besides,” Paxon said, mock offense in his voice, “I didn’t even score on him. I missed on purpose.”
“Sure you did.”
“I did!”
“You hit the garage door, man.” Seth chuckled, shaking his head. “Your dad probably thought the house collapsed with that noise.”
“He texted me after,” Paxon admitted, grinning faintly. “Said if I dented it again, he’s making me repaint it myself.”
Their laughter was so natural, so unguarded, that for a second, I almost didn’t want to interrupt.
It hit me how easily they talked, how their rhythm hadn’t been broken by months of weird distance or confusion. For them, life moved on like normal. For me, it hadn’t.
I lingered just long enough to listen before forcing myself forward. They had to know I was already there so I couldn’t stand around and do nothing indefinitely.
Seth looked over at me first. “Hey, Cadence.” His tone was filled with warmth that always made me feel like I could breathe again. “Was starting to wonder if you got lost.”
My cheeks heated as I forced a smile. “Just had to wrestle Bebe for control of the hallway.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Paxon’s mouth twitch, like he wanted to smile too but stopped himself halfway.
Seth chuckled. “Grab a seat. I was just about to tell Paxon about how my crew is still trying to kill me.”
Paxon leaned back on his stool, the corner of his mouth lifting. “They really aren’t trying to kill you.”
“They could’ve fooled me,” Seth said, setting the spatula aside. “I swear every day they find a new way to almost drop something heavy on my head.”
Paxon snorted. “That’s not murder, that’s bad coordination.”
“Feels like murder,” Seth shot back.
Their laughter filled the kitchen again, easy and warm, while I slid onto a stool at the far end of the island. The stool squeaked against the tile, the sound too sharp to my ears.
“So,” Seth said, glancing over his shoulder, “you’re really here for tutoring, huh?”
The question made me pause. I glanced at Paxon, briefly wondering how much Seth knew.
I played with the strap of my bookbag as I tried to feign casual.
“Yeah. Principal Calgary thinks I’m slipping and is worried my grades will drop too low.
I need to catch up in physics. I’m fine in the other classes. ”
“Principal Calgary thinks everyone’s slipping if they miss something because they blink too much.
” Seth smirked, but then he turned to face us completely, his expression softening.
“But honestly, it’s a good idea. You’ve had a lot going on.
” He crossed his arms, forearms flexing as he leaned back against the counter next to the stove.
“And Paxon’s a solid choice. Smart, patient.
I mean, unless you count the garage door incident. ”
“Hey,” Paxon protested. “I rarely do that.”
“Often enough.” Seth gave him a teasing look. “But seriously, this is good. The two of you spending time together again.”
My muscles in my shoulders tensed at what he was suggesting. “It’s just tutoring,” I said, maybe too fast.
“Tutoring,” Seth repeated with a knowing tone, turning and flipping off the burner. “Right. I’ve done some just tutoring before.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
He held up his hands with a grin. “I’m just saying, I think it’ll be good for both of you. You can’t fix things if you keep dodging each other.”
“Seth.” Paxon’s tone was sharp, warning Seth.
“What? I’m cooking dinner, not meddling,” he said innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “Now, go get set up in the living room. It’s quieter there, and the table’s clean. I’ll bring snacks later if you promise not to burn the house down.”
“You act like we’re children,” Paxon muttered.
“You act like children,” Seth said, going over to the fridge.
He wasn’t wrong.
I sighed, gathering my things and heading to the living room. Paxon followed a moment later, notebook under his arm, his footsteps a little slower but steady.
Behind us, Seth hummed some half-recognizable tune underneath his breath as he pulled out ingredients, the sound comforting and warm. It filled the space between the three of us, easing the edges of the tension I hadn’t realized I was holding.
For the first time in a while, it almost felt like the old days again.
Almost.
The living room was warm and softly lit. It was a space that somehow managed to feel alive even when it was quiet.
I dropped my bag onto the coffee table and dug out what I needed. I slowly flipped the notebook open to a half-finished page of formulas. Paxon set his things down across from me, carefully, as if the act of tutoring me required as much focus as taking a final exam.
It wasn’t like this was the first time we were here doing schoolwork together. It used to be natural that we all came to Seth’s and worked on homework together. But as things were, this was far harder to deal with than in the past.
“Okay,” he said after a second, pulling off his dark blue beanie and placing it on the floor next to him. “Where do you want to start?”