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I WALK DOWN THE ROAD, my steps steady but my mind racing. Aaron’s house isn’t far now, and with every step, my nerves build. Maybe this is stupid. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this. But I push the thought aside because it’s too late to turn back now.
The address had been in my dad’s files, the one he has on his players. I know it was wrong to look through them—I know. But it’s for a good cause, so that cancels it out.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
The small navy blue—his favourite colour—box in my bag feels heavier than it should. Inside is a CD, filled with songs I love but also ones I picked carefully, ones that remind me of his mum’s CD that had been in his car. Music meant something to her, and if I can give him even a little piece of that back, then maybe this isn’t as dumb as it feels.
I even wrote a small note. Emphasis on small because I had no idea what to say. Anything more felt like too much, and honestly, I don’t even know if he’ll listen to the songs.
When I reach his house, I hesitate. My fingers curl into my sleeves as I stare at the door. But I didn’t come all this way to pussy out now, so I knock before I can overthink it.
The door swings open, and I’m met with the last person I expected. Aaron’s dad.
His sharp gaze settles on me, and I know he recognizes me from the hospital. His brows pull together slightly, like he’s already trying to figure out why I’m here.
Now that I’m thinking about it, Aaron looks like an exact copy of his dad. Black wavy, messy hair, sharp, straight nose and jawline. The only difference is, his eyes are a mix of green and brown. Almost hazel like. But Aaron’s, they’re a bright green with a darker shade on the outside. The prettiest part though, the thing that makes them stand out, are the amber freckles.
“You’re the coach’s daughter,” he says, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Yeah,” I say, shifting on my feet. “Is Aaron home?”
“He’s asleep.” The words are clipped, dismissive, like he’s waiting for me to leave.
“Oh.” I glance past him, even though I can’t see anything from here. “I, um—I just wanted to drop this off.” I reach into my bag and pull out the box, holding it out to him.
For a second, he just stares at it. I genuinely think he isn’t going to take it but to my surprise he does.
“Listen,” he says, voice lower now, “I can understand the other day, but now this? You’re clearly not just the coach’s daughter to him.”
I blink, unsure of what to say. “We’re friends.”
He scoffs, shaking his head as if he doesn’t believe me. “I know what Connie is like, he doesn’t have any lady friends, at least any long term ones.”
“I’m not-” I stop myself. What’s the point? He’s already made up his mind about me.
“Connie needs to focus on his recovery, he doesn’t need a rich, spoiled girl to distract him.”
What? The words hit harder than I expect them to as I process what he just said.
“Listen, I don’t mean to offend ya’,” he sighs, “but I think it’s best if you leave him alone for a while.”
“Just… make sure he gets it,” I mutter before turning away.
I don’t look back but I can hear the door shut from behind me.
Rich, spoiled girl.
Like, I’m just one of Aaron’s girl for the month. What the fuck?
I know I shouldn’t let this bother me but it does. A lot.
My jaw clenches as I make my way down the road, heading toward the bus stop. I didn’t expect to leave this early, which means I’ve got time to kill before the next bus arrives.
As I pass the park, movement catches my eye. Jude Walker, leaning against the brick wall near the benches, a joint between his fingers. Alone.
He notices me and gives a slow nod.
I hesitate. Then, without fully thinking about it, I turn and walk toward him. Leaning against the wall beside him, I cross my arms.
“Academy,” he acknowledges, exhaling smoke.
“Local drug dealer,” I counter.
He grins, amusement flickering in his eyes, and then holds out the joint. I take it without hesitation, needing something to take the edge off. As I inhale, the bitter taste hits my throat, but the burn is a welcome distraction.
“Let me guess,” Jude muses. “You came to see O’Connor?”
I snap my head toward him. “What?”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “I’m just going off what I saw at the Halloween party.”
“We’re just friends.” Second time I’ve said that today.
He gives me a knowing look. “I don’t know. Friends don’t do that shit.”
I narrow my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
He shrugs his shoulders, tilting his head. “Seemed like he was jealous.”
“Jealous? No, he was just…” I trail off, realisation creeping in. Oh, shit.
Jude watches as it clicks. “Exactly.”
“Oh,” I mutter. “I didn’t think of it like that.” Could Jude be right? I mean… why would Aaron be jealous? We weren’t even really friends back when that happened.
I let out a deep exhale. Does he really care about me as much as he acts like he does? Or is he trying to make me his girl of the month like his dad thinks?
Whatever. I don’t want to think about that right now.
There’s a beat of silence before I add, “The pills are working wonders, by the way. How can I give you a five-star review?”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Preciate it.”
I glance at him, debating for a second before asking, “What do you know about him?”
“Who?”
“Connie.” Aaron.
His expression shifts. “Oh, hell nah. I’m staying out of this shit.”
“Come on,” I press. “You guys both went to Trinity.”
He shakes his head, more serious now.
“Please?”
Jude exhales sharply, then shrugs. “He’s a good lad. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Well, the rumours are he got into a lot of fights.”
“That’s true,” he admits with a smirk. “That’s a bloke you don’t want to rile up.”
“And he got suspended at least five times.”
He lets out a low whistle. “Five times last year. Altogether?” He raises his brows. “Let’s just say it’s a big number.”
I take another hit, the weed dulling my nerves. “And… he’s a player.”
Jude gives me a knowing look. I had to ask. It’s not like he’s talking to any girls at Royal which is confusing as hell because I know many girls who have a crush on him. The biggest one being Lily.
“Well,” he says slowly, “can he really be a player if he doesn’t do relationships?”
I blink. “What?”
“He never dated anyone, at least from what I know.”
“So he just makes out with girls?”
“Fuck if I know.”
“That’s not any better,” I mutter under my breath.
Jude lets out a low chuckle. “Not my cattle, not my bullshit.”
I snort. “What?”
“Not my business, not my problem.” His lips tilt into a smirk.
“Ah, the drug dealer has jokes.”
He shrugs. “I try.”
A bus approaches, its headlights cutting through the early evening light.
“I gotta go,” I say, handing the joint back to him. “Thanks for the weed.”
I don’t wait for a response before walking toward the bus stop, leaving the conversation, and the confusion it stirred, behind me.
By the time I get home, the high has settled in, leaving everything slightly hazy. The house feels bigger than usual but quieter.
Felix is still in the living room, controller in hand, but when he sees me, he sits up quickly.
“Carmen,” he says, voice sharp. “Wait.”
I stop mid-step. “What?”
He squints at me, eyes narrowing like he’s analysing something. “Are you high?”
I scoff. “No.” Deny, deny, and deny.
His expression doesn’t change. “I’m not,” I insist, but the way my voice stretches slightly on the word doesn’t help my case.
Felix shakes his head, muttering something under his breath before sighing. “Look, I still need to talk to you.”
I flop onto the couch beside him, suddenly feeling the weight of the day. “Then talk.”
“I wanted to talk to you after the finals and you were gone, I want to talk to you now and you’re high,” he mutters under his breath.
“Just say what you have to say, Felix,” I scoff. The last thing I need today is to get lectured.
He shakes his head, an almost sad expression plastered onto his face. “It’s like…” He stops himself, as if he’s deciding to speak his mind or not. “It’s like you’re not even here anymore.”
“I am here?” I chuckle. “I’m here most of the time.”
“No, I mean like,” he lets out a frustrated sigh, “mentally, Carmen.”
Oh. “That’s peak.”
“Can you take this shit seriously?” he scoffs. “I know you’re high as a kite right now but please, Carmen.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Felix.” I shrug my shoulders.
He leans back onto the couch, wiping his face with his hand as he exhales. “Where were you earlier today?”
“Why?”
“Maybe because you’re fucking high, Carmen.”
I stand up, letting out a huff. “I can’t deal with this right now.”
Before I can leave, he grabs my wrist, pulling me back. “Why can’t you just talk to me?”
“I don’t know, Felix,” I laugh dryly. “Take a bloody guess.”
“What?” His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Take a look at how you’ve been treating me for the last few years and then take a big guess.” The words leave my mouth without a thought but I’m not sure I regret them.
His expression changes as he takes a step back in realisation. “I’m trying now, Carmen,” he mutters, his tone softer.
“Well, maybe it’s too late.” I walk away, heading towards the stairs before he can say a word.
My chest feels heavy as I make my way up the steps. But as I reach the top, I can still feel the weight of his words, the sadness in his voice sticking to me like glue. It’s not enough, though.
All those years of being pushed to the side, forgotten while they poured all their attention into him, made him their bloody golden boy. Now he wants to play the concerned brother? It’s a joke.
But the worst part is, I almost believe him. And that scares me more than anything.
The weed’s supposed to make me feel good. Numb. Instead, it’s just digging everything up-everything I’ve been trying to bury.
“It’s like you’re not even here anymore.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m not here. Not really.
Most of the time I’m high, the other times I’m zoned out.
I press the heels of my palms into my eyes, trying to push the thoughts away.
Because I don’t want to feel anything right now.
I just want to forget.
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