jazz4525

He dials, and makes another call as Polo changes into his uniform. It ends with another denial as he tightens his tie.

He sighs, and allows himself a small break to put on his own uniform.

“Let’s get you breakfast,” Polo says, and sets about making coffee. He doesn’t mention how bad the situation is. He doesn’t need to be reminded, and he knows that.

He chugs the coffee from his cup and makes another call.

“Hello. Frederico?”

“Good morning. Who is this?” He has notes on this guy, their family’s history with him, though he can’t quite remember him from any of their parties. He thinks he should remember this guy’s voice though. It grates on him.

“It’s Guzman Nunier. I’m calling on behalf of my father.”

“Oh yes, I’ve heard about that. What a shame.”

What a polite way of avoiding the fact that the news has been plastered everywhere. Of course he’ll dance around it, because that’s what they do in their world.

“It’s absolutely terrible. Why isn’t he out by now?” He asks.

What a great question. It really lets them get straight to the point.

“No, they’ve frozen our accounts, and we can’t make bail,” he explains patiently. That’s the excuse they’ve made up, rather than fully explaining how thoroughly Dad has fucked them over. That would hardly help their case.

“Well then, how can I help? What’s the amount?”

“Three hundred thousand.”

The guy can’t help but gasp a little. He can hear it, crackling through the connection.

“I’m sorry,” the slimy voice comes from the other end of the phone. “It’s just that it’s such a crazy amount, you know? I’m not sure I have the funds…”

“Nononono, you wouldn’t have to cover it all.”

“Well,” Federico says, scrambling for another excuse. “Even beyond the amount, it's difficult business, being tied to this situation, you understand? I'm not sure my business can afford it."

It’s lucky this conversation is over the phone, because his face falls, and he sneers.

“I see. Fine. Thank you, Federico. Have a good day.” He hangs up, and throws his phone on the table. “Asshole.”

“My mothers can cover part of it,” Polo offers, very kindly. “For more, they’d have to withdraw from investment funds, which takes time.”

“Thank you. Tell them I’ll call them later.”

“What about Lu’s parents?”

“They’re diplomats. They can’t get involved.” He hesitates. “Besides, I don’t want anything to do with her.”

He'd wanted a clean break, and he's going to stick to it.

“I get it,” Polo says, head dropping. He’s probably thinking of his own breakup, so maybe he does actually get it as much as he says.

He gets to school early. He lets Polo drive his car and makes another call in the car. He’s glad he got Polo to drive. Another asshole. He probably would’ve crashed the car.

The notebook where he’d laid out the plan with his father is overtaken by scribbles, crossed out names and numbers. Every one of them next to offers he can make, things he can exchange for his father’s freedom. None of them will do it because of any true desire to help. That's his father's world- the world he will inherit- the world of transactional living.

Well. That's depressing. Wouldn’t it be better for him to think about something else?

He’d prefer to think back to his daydream of Nadia, which is in danger of becoming recurring. Now that she’s allowed him to hold onto her, he can’t let her go. When he sees her approaching, he smiles.

“Were you waiting for me?” She asks.

The answer’s probably already all over his face. Confirming it will only make him look pathetic.

“I’ve been up since seven, making calls to get the money. It’s horrible.”

“I see.” She actually looks concerned. “I’m sure someone will lend it to you.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He shrugs. He’s gotta make his peace with this or he’s going to lose his mind. “Rats are the first to abandon ship, and my father’s world was full of rats.”

She goes to open her locker, and he slaps his hand over the keyhole. It’s a childish play, but he’d like her attention for just a little longer.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Are you going to stick to me like glue all day?” She asks, admonishing but still smiling, which sends a thrill through his chest. “What will your friends think when they see you this clingy?”

She brushes his palm away to stick the key in, and he tries not to let the contact linger in his mind.

He snorts. His friends are in the worst position to tease him for being clingy.

“I want to make the most of these days with you, in case they’re the last.” She smiles weakly at the reminder, and he is overtaken by the desire to solve the problem. “We have to keep you here for the next school year, Nadia.”

She shakes her head. “It’s hopeless, Guzman. Once my father makes up his mind, he’s inflexible.”

Yeah, he’s been dealing with a lot of those kinds of men lately.

She notes the morose look on his face. “You should head to class, no? Go on.”

It’s really amazing, that little smile of hers. It could probably convince him to do anything.

“Fine, I’m going. Bye.” He looks back at her when he rounds the door, and clings to his daydream a little longer.

---

He’s saving his call to Polo’s mothers for the ending of the day, because Polo had assured him that they would contribute no small part of the bail. He would like to end the day on a sure win.

Marina walks by him, zombie-like.

“How are you doing?”

“How do you think?” She snaps, shoulder-checking him as she brushes by him for the fridge.

“Spending my day groveling is going great for me, by the way,” he says, and her face sours.

“You shouldn’t be bothering,” she says, “He left us with nothing. You should do the same.”

“Just because he’s not a good father doesn’t mean I can’t be a good son,” he says, recalling Nadia’s words. Back when he’d only known about the cocaine.

Her eyes narrow. Perhaps she recognizes that the words are not his own.

“You’re far too loyal to all the wrong people,” she says finally, and she sounds as tired as he feels.

She shuffles away, glass of water in one hand, pills in the other.

She still looks like death. He takes his calls outside so that she’ll be able to sleep.

He no longer straightens himself to prepare him for the call. He’s got the thing on speakerphone at this point, pacing along the edge of the pool.

“Hello? This is Guzman Nunier. I’m calling on behalf of my father.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about his situation.”

“Good. You see, I’m calling to ask-”

“I’ve also heard about his son calling everyone in his contacts to beg for bail money.”

He shoves his hand in his pocket to keep from hitting something.

“You see, they’ve frozen our bank accounts, so we can’t make bail,” he says for the thousandth time, keeping his voice level, though the words are coming out faster than he would like. “All I am asking for is something to start things up.”

“So no one has given you any.”

Shit, shit, shit. He turns sharply on his heel to walk the length of the pool again.

“It’s only been a few days.”

“Your father’s reputation will taint everyone who-”

He practically spits at the phone with his response.

“Yeah, yeah, my father is a leper, and you won’t help him. Fine.” He turns to continue pacing. “When he returns to work, I’ll remind him who was there for him, asshole!”

He jams his thumb at the phone, hanging up with what he wishes was way more satisfaction, finally getting to tell off one of these pricks. But the feeling is hollow, seeing as he still hasn’t gotten what he’s needed.

“Everything all right?”

He sighs and turns “What are you doing here, Lu?”

“I go to school for my things, and don’t see you. I call and text you, and you don’t answer.”

Guilt comes over him. Yes, it was a bit childish to avoid her texts like that.

“I’m beginning to feel a bit ignored, actually. You don’t see me for three days, and I’m already forgotten?”

His guilt fades instantly.

“Sorry, I don’t know why, but all I can think about is getting money to bail my father out.”

“I see. And you can’t answer one of my messages while holding your phone?”

Of all his priorities-

“Lu. Right now the last thing I need is your passive aggressive drama.”

“And what do you need? Money.” She tilts her head. “How much?”

“Three hundred thousand. Got that in your bag?”

“Why are you being such a jerk? I only wanted to help.” She turns on her heel and walks away in a huff.

“Oh, so you wanted to help me? I thought it was because I didn’t answer your calls.”

She turns back sharply, and he’d rather be sitting down for whatever comes next.

“If you’re having a hard time, you can lean on me. But don’t insult me.” She actually looks insulted by this. Can’t she see? He doesn’t know how to lean on her. Not for something like this. “And don’t push me away. We’ve always supported each other through the good and the bad.”

“‘We’, Lu?” He wishes that there was another time to do this, but there’s no time but the present. “How do I put this so that you finally get it? There’s no we anymore.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m in love with Nadia,” he says. And as he says it, he knows it to be true. The truth of it exhilarates him. It’s not something he’s ever said before.

He’s never seen her more stunned.

“You’re not in your right mind because of your father,” she says, searching for answers anywhere but his face. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Just because you don’t want to hear what I’m saying doesn’t mean I’m not in my right mind, he wants to shout after her, but for once in his life, he doesn’t have the energy to shout.

He puts his head in his hands and rubs his face. Probably messes up his hair too, but he doesn’t have the energy to care about that either.

Finally, he pulls out his phone again and goes to his contacts.

“Hello?” He says. “It’s me.”

“Yes, yes, Polo said that you’d call,” Polo’s mother says on the other end, her voice sweet with indulgence.

He’ll have to get used to grasping at victories wherever he can.

---

He’s in a good mood when he gets to school the next morning.

He has a hundred and forty thousand dollars towards his father’s bail the next morning. He should have called Polo’s mothers sooner. Actually mentioning that someone has already contributed, someone as well connected as they are, makes potential donors more at ease.

Guess he’ll keep that in mind, next time he’ll need to do something like this. God forbid.

And you know what? He's in the mood for problem solving.

He knocks on Azucena’s door and distracts her from her reading.

“May I come in?” He does a little half-smile, the apologetic look of someone asking humbly for a favor. Not from a friend, or a peer, but from a respected superior.

“Of course, Guzman. What is it?”

“I wanted to talk to you about Nadia.” She frowns questioningly. “Did you know she’s not coming back next year? Her father forbids it.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t know.” She says it so nonchalantly, but he can tell. There’s a small furrow in her brow. She’s not pleased.

“We can’t let that happen.”

“Education is no longer compulsory at your age,” She reminds him. “If her father wants to remove her from school, he can.”

He sets himself down in the chair across from her.

“Why should she have to pay for her father’s intolerance?” He says earnestly. “She didn’t choose to be born into a family like that. Nadia wants to be here. She’s a great student. She has a scholarship. We can’t let her go.”

Azucena purses her lips. Out of the three scholarship students, it’s obvious that Nadia’s the one she would rather hold on to.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Azucena,” he says, trying to keep his smile squarely in appreciation and not in satisfaction. He’s happy to have a win.

He gathers another hundred thousand euros towards his father’s bail during his lunch break, and victory flushes through him, searing his blood.

---

He can see Nadia’s father coming down the halls, and can’t help but keep an ear out. He’s on a winning streak. This morning, he got enough money for bail, and they’ll be picking his father up at noon. Things are working out for him, and he’d like to see it happen.

“Thank you for coming again.”

“This is becoming a habit,” Nadia’s father grumbles. “What happened now?”

“Nothing bad, I can assure you. It’s about your daughter.” They walk inside the office, and he follows after them, hoping to get a better idea of what is going on. “I heard you don’t want her to come here next school year.”

The words become muffled as she closes the door.

“She’s got an excellent record here. She has adapted wonderfully.”

“It’s a thoughtfully considered decision.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t.” Azucena says. “But if only there was a way to change your mind. We think you’re taking a wonderful opportunity away from her.”

“Are you saying I’m a bad father? That, as an uneducated Muslim, I don’t know what’s best for her?”

He winces. It seems like this is a common thread for conversations with him.

“Nonono,” Azucena hurries to assure him. “I’m just trying to get you to see that Nadia would have many advantages, were she to remain here. She’s learned a lot so far.”

“Yes. She has learned to disrespect her parents. To lie, to sneak out of her house. To neglect her religious duties.”

“She’s a teenager. They rebel at that age.”

“Hey,” It’s Ander, at least. But he’s been caught. “What are you doing? We have an exam.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be there in a second.”

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts.

They pass out exams as he and the other students around him chat quietly, trying to cram as much last-minute information in as they can. Polo talks nervously, reciting equations under his breath.

“Don’t turn over the paper until I tell you to,” the substitute says. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing there we haven’t gone over a thousand times.”

He gives Polo a reassuring look, and he breathes deeply, turning around to face forward.

“Excuse me.” Lu glides into the room. Just another element of drama they didn’t need right now.

“What are you doing here, Lucrecia? You’re suspended.”

“I know. But I have the right to take this exam.” She smiles, all picture-perfect smugness. “I’ll sit over there.”

She plops herself down in a random seat, and the door swings open again. Nadia’s father storms into the room.

“Nadia. We’re leaving.”

“What?” Nadia is a deer in headlights, called out in front of the whole room.

“I’m taking you out of here immediately. Let’s go.”

Azucena hurries into the room after him.

“Excuse me.” She says, sounding harried. “Yusef, let’s talk. Don’t take it like that, I never meant to offend you.”

Nadia is looking around the room like she wants to sink in her chair.

“Nadia, let’s go.” He says, expecting his dutiful daughter to obey instantly. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Baba, we’re about to start an exam,” Nadia says, holding her arms out placatingly.

Her father slams his fist down rushes forward and grabs her arm, pulling her out of her seat.

“Hey, hey! Don’t treat her like that!” He shouts, getting up, hoping to put himself between them. An attempt to protect her.

“Shut up!” Yusef roars, and it stops him cold. Guzman has never been on the receiving end of such visceral hate.

“Don’t grab her like that!” Azucena demands, but it’s equally as useless.

“Babba!” Nadia protests, and that snaps him out of it. He scrambles to the hallway, dragging her behind him, but Azucena follows doggedly.

“I feel for her! For her and for your son!” Azucena shouts after him. “To be a woman or a homosexual in your family must be hell. Poor Omar!”

Nadia spins around, panic wild on her face.

Yusef spins on his heel, charging at Azucena, and Nadia changes tack. No longer resisting him, she’s trying to pull him away, not with any physical strength, but appealing to him as his obedient daughter.

Ander tries to get between the man and his mother, but Yusef pushes him aside with ease.

“What? What are you saying about my son?”

He’s shaking, and Nadia manages to pull him away. Guzman can only stare after the two in stunned silence.

“Let’s go back to class,” Azucena says, turning her son. “You too.”

She pushes him inside, and he can’t help but think this is his fault.

“What happened?” Marina asks as he passes, but he just sets his jaw. He doesn’t know if he can even explain it.

“Carry on with your exam. Nothing to worry about,” Azucena says firmly. She looks down at Lu. “What are you doing here?”

No doubt Lu has an angelic smile on her face.

“She says she has a right to be here.”

The most exasperated look appears on her face before she becomes strict. “Out. Now.”

Lu flounces to the door.

Marina lets out a little giggle from the back of the room.

“What are you laughing at, idiot?”

Perhaps Marina has responded, but the only thing going through his head is Nadia’s fearful face, and her father’s pure anger.

What has he done?

The exam flies by. He probably passed, but that’s not what his mind is on.

He keeps sending Nadia messages.

Are you alright?

Are you okay?

What’s happened?

Will you be back at school?

Will I see you soon?

After an hour of waiting, he remembers how Ander told him Omar had his phone taken away. The same has probably happened to Nadia. And her father can probably see her messages popping up on the screen. It’s probably not making anything easier for him.

He resists the urge to send another message as he walks through the door.

Relief floods him when he sees his father at the table.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he says, tension leaving him as this one problem at least has been resolved. He goes to embrace him.

“Me too, son.” His father’s face is grave, and the feeling of doom comes back with a vengeance. “But we still have something to discuss.”

Teodoro steps forward, and why is he still here? With Carla with him? Carla almost never visits this house.

“Carla told me some very disturbing news. It concerns Marina.”

What Carla explains is like the plot of a bad spy movie. Sensitive documents in a watch? A harebrained theft and extortion scheme? Marina not only helping with the heist, but assisting the blackmailers? It sounds like a joke.

But everyone’s face is dead serious, and the bile in him starts to churn.

---

The door opens and shuts.

“Marina, look who’s here.”

However rebellious she is, Marina is still her father’s daughter. She talked a big game, but

“Dad! They released you!” She hugs him tightly. He can’t help but smile a little at her joy, forget for half a second her betrayal.

“Thanks to your brother, who didn’t stop until he raised the money to pay bail.” She turns to look at him in disbelief. “He’s shown me a lot.”

Maybe a week ago, he’d flush with pride that his father would say such a thing. Now,

Dad leads her away, towards Teodoro. “Marina, we need to talk.”

“About what, Dad?”

“Teo tells me you are involved in the theft of the watches,” his father says gently.

“Who are your friends, honey? They’ve brainwashed you.” Teodoro sounds gentle, but there is an undercurrent of threat he can’t help but bristle at.

“Honey, do you know how serious this is? What’s at stake?”

“Dad, why do you think I’m involved?”

“Carla told us everything.” He says it flatly. This is still his sister. “And it wouldn’t be the first time you hung out with riffraff.”

“Riffraff, Guzman?” She has the nerve to laugh. “Dad went to jail, but they’re the riffraff?”

“What are you saying?” Dad asks, sounding genuinely hurt.

“Don’t go there, please,” Mom scolds. But he sees the barb for what it is, a distraction.

“So you do have something to do with those losers,” he accuses. “Marina, you just don’t learn.”

“What losers are you talking about? I’m tired of your arrogance.” She swings her arm wildly to indicate the rest of their family. “And yours. So they caught you red-handed? Fucking deal with it!”

They all burst into a cacophony of anger. Dad’s defenses. Teodoro’s accusations. Guzman’s frustration.

“Just a moment!” Mom shouts. “Everybody calm down.”

“Sure. Ask us to calm down now.”

“How can I calm down when this nutjob here prefers those losers to her family!”

“You know what, Guzman?” “With those people you call losers, I’m making my own family. More authentic, and less hypocritical.”

“What do you mean?” Is she going to run away with them? Where would they even go?

The answer’s much worse than that.

“I’m pregnant.”

The silence that follows seems to fill a lifetime.

“Marina, please say that’s not true,” Mom pleads, as a ringing is building up in his ears.

“Who’s the father?” He asks, because someone has done this to her. Someone he can punish. “The waiter?”

“No.”

His relief doesn’t last long.

“His brother.”

It all falls into place.

“That’s why you helped him with the theft, right?”

Her silence is answer enough.

“That’s it. I’ll fix this right now!”

“Where are you going?” Marina begs, and Dad pulls her back from him. His mother futilely tries to reason with him, but her voice trails off as he storms out of the house, already dialing Ander.

“Call Polo. You have to help me. Now!”

His car screeches as he turns corners, making his way to Ander’s house. Polo is already there.

“What’s going on?” Polo asks.

“I’m getting that watch back,” he says, and Polo’s face pales. “I’m getting it back and I’m gonna smash that fucking thief’s face in.”

He knows where the bat is, from when Ander was still playing, and he grabs it, swinging it experimentally.

“Let’s go.”

He’s glad he went to that party with Nadia. Now he knows where they live. He makes a beeline there.

Even as they’ve hit the town, Ander is still trying to talk him out of this.

“Guzman, this is crazy,” He grabs his wrist. “Wait. Stop. Stop, damn it!”

“What?” He flings Ander’s hand off of him. “Fuck, Ander!”

“Should I remind you what happened last time you tried to fix things?”

“They got fixed.” He reminds him.

“You almost killed Pablo.”

Yes, yes. And that rat bastard never set sight on his sister again. But she decided to replace him with yet another rat bastard.

“We got to their house, take what’s ours, and leave.” He hits Ander. “Or are you getting cold feet?”

“They’re not home.” Polo interrupts, holding out his phone. “Carla just posted this.”

It’s a party on a familiar street.

But more importantly familiar people.

Carla must be trying to get the watch back through more diplomatic means. A valiant effort, but he knows it will not be enough. Still, the sight of her is enough to get Polo back on his side, so Ander is outvoted.

Anger makes his teeth buzz with every step, and it is a familiar feeling, the burn in his stomach pushing him forward, and forward, and-

He tucks the bat under his arm as he rounds the corner.

“Son of a bitch!” He shouts, challenging the bastard. “You may fool your brother, but not me.”

Guzman walks up to him, and lets the bat fall into his grip.

“First you steal from me. Then you get my sister pregnant.”

There’s a split second where the gutter rat truly fathoms how angry he is before he feels the bat slamming into his stomach.

Then there’s chaos. People rushing to defend Samuel’s brother. People who just want to break up the fight.

He manages to get another punch in, a square one to the jaw, and knocks him to the ground.

But he scrambles and hits Guzman, square in the face, like the night of Marina’s party, where the bastard had probably first seen his sister-

The gutter rat is rushing forward while he’s on his back, so he lashes out with his legs, kicking him in the belly. He’s helped up by Polo and Ander, and he rounds back on the brother even as Polo runs off to address his grudge with Christian. The brother is trying to get up to his feet, and he nearly charges again-

But Samuel is the one to beat him to it, landing a punch with a screamed curse.

The incongruity of it knocks him to his senses, and he looks around at the brawl he’s started. It’s out of his control. Once anyone gets a hold on him, he’s done for.

“Ander!” He shouts, because Polo is long gone. “Let’s go!”

And he runs, all the other gutter rats on his heels. He should know this place better. His eyes dart around for landmarks, and a street sign appears, his saving grace.

He’s on Nadia’s street. He bangs on the door, eyes wild.

“Please, open up!”

“Go away!” Her father roars, turning the lock.

“I’m being chased!” He sees her come up from behind the cash register, and he looks to her, pleads to her. “Nadia. Nadia-”

Her father rounds on her.

“He’s not your problem. Let him fend for himself.”

But for once she’s not looking at her father, only him, and she can see his fear and desperation, she must. She doesn’t take long to decide.

“Say what you want, he’s coming in.” She dives for the door, fumbling for the lock.

“They’re after me!” He pleads. He doesn’t so much enter when she opens the door as fall in, with a strangled, “Call the police!”

“Why the police?” Yusef demands as he crawls behind the counter, out of sight. If those guys see him, it’ll be on the family’s head.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, rubbing his face, as more of the hoodlums run past the store.

“If I catch that bastard, he’ll be sorry!”

“Son of a bitch!”

“See why I didn’t want you to befriend him?” Yusef yells at Nadia, still by the door. “He’s trouble!”

He still tries to catch his breath behind the counter.

“Baba, I-”

“I forbade you from seeing him!”

“What?”

“Don’t talk to me,” her father shouts, pointing at him. That same rage is on his face again.

“I swear, I didn’t know,” he says, holding up his hands.

"So now you lie to your friends too, huh?" He demands, turning on Nadia again, and it’s too much for Guzman to bear.

“That’s not what happened-”

“Guzman, don’t.” Nadia interrupts him, and turns to her father. “I saved him from being beaten. I would’ve done it for anyone.”

She turns to him and picks up her phone with shaking hands.

“Go to the storeroom. Stay there until the police arrive.”

Even as the police come to escort him, he turns to her father and says again.

“I swear, I didn’t know.”

---

The police don’t manage to get the full story from anyone. Everybody conveniently has a different story about what’s happened, and everyone has so many varied injuries it doesn’t really matter who started it. And if there is some money greasing the wheels and the fact that it’s happened in a rough neighborhood to start, then well, that’s the system.

So he can go to school next week, no problem.

Other than the bruises on his hands and his raw knuckles, of course.

The Nunier household is silent over the weekend. It is a tense silence, a silence that is due to be broken by a screaming match at any point. But it never happens. He’s left to stew in his guilt over Nadia, and his anger over Marina, and his confusion over his family, that becomes his tiredness.

By the time he gets back to school, he’s just grateful to be out of the house.

He finds Nadia at lunch, and so he is relieved to see her that he nearly sprints to her table.

“Are you okay?” He asks, pulling out a chair and sitting next to her.

She eyes his hands. “I think I should be asking you that.”

He holds up his hand. “What, this? It hurts. But I’m okay. I’ve got a few on my stomach, too, but you’re going to have to wait to see those.”

“Oh, so now you’ve become shy, hm? What happened to the boy who took off his shirt every chance he got?”

They have a short laugh, but he still wants to say what he came to say.

“I just- I wanted to thank you. For opening the door for me.”

She shrugs. “Like I said. I would’ve done it for anyone. Why did you end up getting chased, anyhow?”

“I started the fight,” he admits.

“Why?” It’s progress, her giving him the benefit of the doubt when it comes to his reason. He wishes he could take comfort in that.

“Samuel’s brother stole something from my father. And he got Marina pregnant.”

“Oh.” She says, and nods in understanding.

“You weren’t surprised.”

“What?”

“When I said Marina was pregnant. You weren’t surprised.”

She swallows.

“She told me. Before you asked whether she would go to the prison with you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t a good time. You were already dealing with so much-” She hesitates. “Besides, it wasn’t my secret to tell.”

The same way it had been about Marina’s HIV diagnosis. He sighs.

“You didn’t tell me you were banned from seeing me.”

“Would that have kept you from hanging out with me?”

“No,” he admits, and she laughs a little. “But I would have been a little more discreet.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” She admits. “He already hated this place. You were just the last straw, I guess.”

“Yeah. But I know he hates me. He hates that you spent time with me.”

“Even when you’re taking the blame, you put too much importance on yourself,” she says, nudging him. “Don’t blame him too much, okay? He’s afraid of losing me. Ever since my sister left…”