"If you ignore me again, I’m walking out. And I’m never coming back."

Eden Anderson felt as though her life had shifted off its axis, though, in reality, nothing about her routine had changed at all.

Yet, everything felt different.

Every morning, she arrived at the classroom early, burying her face in her textbooks. But she was really counting the seconds until he walked through the door. The moment she caught sight of his shoulder swinging through the frame, a strange, unearned warmth bloomed in her chest.

When the other boys crowded her desk with their loud, grating chatter, she wore her usual mask of cold indifference—the "don't-bother-me" look she’d perfected. But inside, she was making a mental decree: *He* was the only one allowed in her space. *He* wasn't allowed to leave her for anyone else.

When a problem stumped her and the frustration began to claw at her throat, she would slash her pen across the worksheet, the sound sharp and grating. Lucas Powell would lean over, silent, watching the storm clouds gather on her face until he couldn't hold back a chuckle. She would shove his head away, furious and embarrassed, but the tension would bleed out of her all the same.

When she felt crushed, when the weight of expectation became too heavy to carry, she would keep it all locked away. Then, in the solitude of a quiet corner, she would spill it all to him—every bitter, jagged complaint. When she needed him and he wasn't there, she would panic, turning volatile, snapping at him the moment he appeared, only for his clumsy, bewildered expression to break her defenses, forcing a laugh through her tears.

In his presence, she stopped filtering. She said what she wanted; she did what she wanted. She anchored herself to the belief that he wouldn't mock her, wouldn't grow tired of her, wouldn't hold a grudge, and certainly wouldn't walk away.

She had no idea where this sudden, bedrock sense of security had come from.

"I said no! Are you deaf? Why are you such a burden?!"

Monday morning. Eden was walking down the tree-lined path toward the school gates when a woman’s screech cut through the air.

Eden looked up. A woman stood over a boy, eyes burning with a venomous intensity. The boy was Lucas.

"Listen to me, Lucas. Don't think for a second you can just do whatever you want. The day your father and I finally divorce, you'll see. You’ll see that no one is going to want you."

Lucas stared at the pavement, his expression a flat, lifeless mask. He didn't argue. He didn't defend himself. He just took the abuse like it was part of the landscape.

A hot, sharp spike of anger pierced Eden’s chest. Her fingers curled, knuckles turning white as she balled her hands into fists.

*How dare she?*

Who was she to say he wasn't wanted?

Even knowing this was his mother, Eden felt a wildfire of rage consume her. In her mind, Lucas’s parents were supposed to be like her aunt and uncle—warm, supportive, stable. Lucas was so bright, so seemingly unburdened, and so charming. He was so much like her cousin Bryce… but the reality was a jagged, ugly contrast to her fantasies.

"Lucas!" Eden didn't think; she just ran, her voice cutting through the tension.

Lucas’s mother turned to look at her, her expression smoothing into a practiced, fake composure.

"Go on, get to class. And get home early today," the woman spat, turning on her heel and stalking off.

"You're a bit late today," Lucas said, looking up at Eden. He offered that same effortless, casual smile, as if the last two minutes hadn't happened.

"You…" Seeing him smile like that, as if he hadn't just been shredded, made Eden’s heart ache. "Are you okay?"

Lucas blinked, realizing she’d caught the tail end of the scene. He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck and laughed. "I’m used to it. It doesn't bother me at all."

Eden didn't answer. She fell into step beside him, matching his pace toward the gate.

*Actually, you…*

*Actually, when you're having a bad day, you can lash out at me. If you’re miserable, you can complain to me. I won't yell at you. I won't make fun of you. I can stay with you. I can protect you, too.*

She wanted to say it. She wanted to lay the words out like a physical shield between him and the world. But even with how close they had become, the language of vulnerability felt foreign, impossible to articulate.

The morning sun was soft, but a chill wind whipped through the trees, casting tangled, dancing shadows at their feet.

"Actually, you what?" Lucas prompted, seeing her falter.

Eden surrendered to her own silence. "Nothing."

"Hey," Lucas nudged her arm. "Want to learn a trick?"

"What trick?"

"You said your mom has the same temper, right? I'll teach you how to handle it."

"How?"

"Two ways. First, pretend you’re deaf. Let it go in one ear and out the other until she runs out of air."

"And if I can't take it?" she asked.

"Then you apologize, look sincere, and find an excuse to bolt. Get out of there."

"Bolt to where?"

"I know a place," Lucas said, his eyes sparkling with a secret. "I’ll show you during P.E. this afternoon."

During the last period that afternoon, under the cover of free time, they scrambled over the back wall of the school. Everyone would have assumed Eden—the model student—wouldn't know the first thing about jumping a fence. They didn't know that she’d spent her childhood following Bryce around, learning the physics of rebellion by osmosis.

Tucked into a quiet alleyway not far from the school was a trendy cafe called *The Hideaway*.

It was cavernous inside, filled with semi-private nooks. In the back, they found a room with small tables and a wall-mounted TV that played whatever they selected.

"Whenever I can't stand going home, I come here," Lucas said, looking proud. "It’s not bad, right?"

Eden nodded, a genuine smile finally reaching her eyes.

From that day on, the cafe became their ritual. She told her parents she was at the library, but she was really here—doing homework with Lucas, talking, watching old movies, just *existing* in the quiet.

After losing her aunt’s house as a sanctuary, she had found a new, better one. After realizing that Bryce was not the person she could truly tether herself to, she had found someone better.

Lucas was different. Lucas understood. Lucas was a mirror of her own unspoken pain. Lucas’s patience with her had no bottom, and she was certain, deep in her marrow, that he would never leave her.

When she was with him, she was happy. It was a different kind of joy—not the hollow fun of eating snacks and playing games, but a profound sense of *rightness*. Even if they sat in total silence, she felt exhilarated just to be in his orbit.

The first semester of sixth grade blurred by. The first day of the second semester, Eden started her period.

She’d heard the women in her family—her grandmother, her aunts, her mother—complain about agonizing cramps, the kind that forced you to curl into a ball in bed. She didn't have it quite that bad, but the ache was a dull, constant throb that sapped her strength.

It was a weekend, and she had three hours of intense dance rehearsal for a county television performance. She knew her mother would never allow her to skip, period pain or not.

By the time she stepped out of the dance studio, the sky was a bruised, heavy grey. She had an umbrella in her bag, but the pain had crawled from her abdomen into her very bones. She felt brittle, exhausted.

She had piano lessons next.

She pushed the door open, hand pressed against her stomach, biting her lip to keep from whimpering. She reached for her umbrella, but froze. Lucas was standing there in the rain, waiting.

He had shown up every weekend, walking her from one lesson to the next, just to spend that short, precious time together.

"We agreed!" Eden groaned, squinting through the rain. "If it rained today, you didn't have to come."

Lucas didn't answer. He studied her face, his brow furrowing. "You’re pale. Are you sick?"

Eden sighed, shaking her head. "I'm just tired. I’ll be fine once I rest."

"Do you want me to call a cab?" He looked around, but the street was empty. He shrugged off his jacket. "Forget it. Get on my back."

"No, I can walk—"

He didn't wait. He shoved an umbrella into her hand, grabbed her, and hoisted her up.

As they walked, Eden shielded them both, the freezing, needle-like rain pelting the umbrella. She looked at the damp, messy hair at the nape of his neck, and her vision blurred.

"Don't worry about me," he said. "Just keep yourself dry."

"Lucas?" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Am I… heavy?"

Lucas laughed, turning his head slightly. "You want the honest answer?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" She reached out and pinched his ear, furious.

"Ow! Hey, stop! I'll drop you!"

"Drop me then! See if you can!" She twisted her fingers harder, refusing to let go.

"Fine, fine! My lady, please, have mercy!" Lucas ducked, trying to dodge her hand, but his grip on her legs only tightened to ensure she wouldn't slip. "Eden, how are you this strong when you're in pain? I can't imagine spending the rest of my life being bullied by you."

*The rest of my life.*

The phrase hung in the cold, wet air. It struck her then—she had never actually considered a future where they weren't together. When had she become so utterly dependent on him?

She looked down the long, narrow alleyway. It seemed endless, a path that stretched into the horizon. *Will we always be together?* she wondered. *Walking, studying, existing, forever?*

"Quiet all of a sudden. What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking… we’ll never be apart, will we?"

Like now. We’ll go to the same middle school. Then the same high school. Won't we?

"Of course," Lucas said, his tone light. Then he paused, sounding genuinely horrified. "Wait. You are planning on going to the prep academy, right? Don't tell me you're not going."

"I'm going," Eden said, a smile breaking through the gloom. The cold wind bit at her cheeks, but her chest was glowing.

"You still hurting?" he asked, glancing back.

Eden nodded against his shoulder.

"Just a little longer. We’re almost there." He picked up his pace, trudging through the downpour.

*Lucas,* she thought, leaning into him. *Let’s always go to the same school. Let's stay like this.*

*Because I don't want to be apart from you. Not ever.*