Track 13 #2
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” he asks when we get to his door, and my stomach drops. I want to say yes, I’ll see you later. And tomorrow. And the day after that.
But I can’t.
Because I know I can’t keep him. Very soon, I won’t be around to say anything at all. Pretending anything else is true will only hurt us more. And Jake’s been hurt enough.
I wasn’t supposed to get close to him. I wasn’t supposed to get close with anyone. Because I know I have to leave this all behind. I know I have to say goodbye to Austin and everything in it. There’s no room for any of this life in the one I have to return to.
It’s a terrible thing, what a broken life can do to you. The way it brands you with invisible scars no one else can see. You can outrun the memories, outwork the pain, outgrow the version of yourself that fell apart—but it always finds you again. Always.
Even if your brother saves you.
Even if he takes your place.
Even if you run miles away from your hometown.
You’ll never truly escape what made you.
“I can’t…” I start, but the rest of the sentence dies in my throat. It closes off, tight and aching, like my body is refusing what my heart is forced to say. I swallow hard, press my eyes shut, and try to steady the shaking in my hands.
It was wrong what I did, letting Jake in.
Letting him hold a piece of me I know I could never let him keep.
Only giving him part of the truth I can never outrun.
It was wrong to give him the version of me that looks worthy on the surface.
The one who can laugh, and talk, and pretend she isn’t haunted by all the things she’s running from.
Beneath it, the rest of the story is still there—lurking, waiting, ugly as ever.
I knew all of this, and I let him in, anyway. Because it felt too good not to. It felt good to pretend I could feel safe with anyone, to hold on to anyone, when I knew exactly where that safety would lead.
Jake’s hand comes up to the side of my neck, his thumb brushing the line of my jaw. It’s such a simple touch, but it undoes me completely. I take his wrist in my hand, fingers trembling, and force myself to meet his eyes.
“Can’t what?” he asks, his brow furrowing, his voice so full of concern it almost breaks me.
“I can’t see you anymore.”
The words burn coming out. They’re acid on my tongue. Poison sliding down my throat, searing everything in its wake.
It’s for the best.
His brows knit tighter. “What do you mean? Like you can’t today?”
“No, like,” I say. “I don’t know.”
Confusion flickers across his face, quick and sharp, before it twists into something heavier. Something desperate. His eyes search mine like the answer might be hiding there, like if he just looks hard enough he can change what I’ve said.
“Allie, what are you talking about?” His thumb traces slow circles against my cheek, patient and calming. Comforting. It only makes it worse.
Memories of Parker, shattering screams, and breaking glass swarm in my head as police sirens chase them all around. He doesn’t know what I’ve done. I grit my teeth, trying to hold back the storm building in my chest, but the words claw their way out, anyway.
“I can’t see you anymore, Jake. My life is too complicated. I have too much shit to deal with, and I can’t have you around distracting me. I can’t be…relying on you. And telling you things. And kissing you—”
“Why not?”
“Because!” My tone is sharp, but my voice cracks on the word. Because you’ll find out who I really am, and then you’ll leave me, too.
“I don’t understand.”
“People always leave, Jake.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he swears.
“You don’t know that. You don’t know me.”
“I do.”
“Jake, I’m gonna have to leave. I don’t get to stay here. So I can’t be around you. I can’t keep pretending life is normal, hanging out and acting like everything is fine when it's not, okay? It won’t be.”
“Why can’t it? Why won’t it be fine?”
“Because it won’t! My life won’t. And I’m not dragging you down with me.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should,” is all I offer. I’ve already said too much.
A silence falls between us, and Jake lets out a frustrated breath. This is for the best, I repeat to myself. If you don’t let him go now, you’ll only hurt him more.
“I don’t understand where this is coming from. I get that your dad called you and that brought some stuff up for you—”
“It’s not just some stuff. It's my life, Jake. That call was a reality check, and it’s time I start acting like I know what’s coming. I’m sorry. This is my fault. I never should’ve…”
“Hung out with me? Been my friend? You haven’t done anything wrong, Alana.”
I tilt my head to the sky, tears streaming down my face.
“What about everything you said about hope?” he asks softly.
“Hope…” My breath catches in my throat. His free hand comes up to the other side of my neck, firmer this time, his eyes pleading.
“Not everything has hope, Jake. Some things just…are,” I breathe.
“Nah, no way. There’s no way that’s true.
You gave me hope, Alana. In my darkest time, you came in with your bright smile and your ponytail, swinging left and right while telling me all about myself.
Telling me all about hope. How it’s the fuel that keeps us going when the whole world crumbles around us.
And now you’re telling me it only applies to some things?
That there isn’t any left for you?” He shakes his head.
“I don’t believe it. I don’t believe there’s no hope for the girl who saw it when I didn’t.
I think if there’s hope for anyone, there’s hope for you and your life and your future.
Whatever it is you’re dealing with, whatever your life is or was or will be, I can’t fix it, okay?
I know that, but I can at least be here. At least I can give you that.”
My heart quakes as the earnest weight of his words settles over me. I forget how to breathe. All I can do is stand here, caught between the ache of what I’m letting go and the terrifying beauty of being seen.
“You don’t understand. This version of my life is not real.
What I told you last night, that’s only a piece of it.
A fraction of the madness that’s on my plate.
I can’t stay here, Jake. I have to go back to my life.
And being around you, getting close to you is making me wish that I didn’t.
It’s a distraction I don’t need right now. ”
“Allie, I won’t… I’m not gonna—”
“No! Listen to me, Jake.” My chest heaves as I step back, shaking. “It’s over, okay? Our friendship, whatever this is, it has to end.”
“Alana.”
“It has to.”
Everyone leaves. One day he will, too. But the reality is, I’ll have to first.
Silence stretches between us, thick and unbearable.
I release a trembling breath, my pulse thrumming in my ears as his eyes dart between mine, searching for any sign that I don’t mean it.
My hands find his wrists and pull them away, slowly, deliberately, even though it feels like tearing out the one piece of this life I want to keep most.
He lets go. I turn and walk away while everything inside me breaks.
“You’re wrong, Alana!” he yells at my back. “Not everyone leaves. That’s a promise! I’m not going anywhere.”
I don’t turn around. If I see his beautiful face, if I think about the warmth of his touch, or the kindness in his eyes, I’ll run right to him, and I won’t let him go until it’s too late for both of us.
It’s for the best, I tell myself, each step more weighted than the last.
It’s for the best, I repeat, knowing no part of me, not even an inch, will ever truly believe it.