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Rock Bottom - Part 2 | Vada Cavell

Pairing: Vada Cavell x reader

Warnings: mentions of school shooting, PTSD, panic attacks, and gunshot injuries

Summary: The aftermath of your fallout with Vada…

Previous Part | Masterlist

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I don’t know how long I stay in my car, gasping for breath and shaking, trying to block out the sound of gunshots and screams echoing in my head.

Hearing Vada tell her mom that she kissed Mia didn’t just break my heart because I never thought she was capable of doing something like that. It broke the dam inside me, the one I had built to keep all my emotions at bay.

I tried so hard to get over the shooting and what happened. I must have started actively blocking it out until now—until it all came crashing back over me.

At one point, I’m pretty sure I almost passed out from hyperventilating, but I can’t be sure. Everything is a blur.

The ringing of my phone, over and over again, is what finally pulls me back to reality. When I grab it from the passenger seat, I see that it’s almost 4. I’ve been sitting here for nearly five hours.

Incoming call: Mom

I wipe my eyes and sniffle a few times before picking up and raising the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Sweetheart? Oh my God,” my mom exclaims with a breathless sob. “Are you okay? We’ve been worried about you. Where are you? We called Vada’s mom, and she said you left hours ago.”

Guilt washes over me for making her and my dad worry. I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair, feeling drained from crying so long. I don’t want them to worry. I just want this day to be over.

“I’m fine, Mom. Sorry. I just lost track of time, that’s all,” I say quietly.

“I—Darling, where are you?” she asks, clearly not buying my excuse. “Tricia said you and Vada—”

“It’s nothing, Mom. I’m on my way home now. See you in a bit.”

I hang up before she can say anything else, breathing heavily at the reminder of what happened before I left.

Vada kissed someone else. Vada kissed Mia.

She cheated on me.

I have several missed calls from her and a few messages I can’t help but read.

Vada <3 (11:02 AM)

please pick up, i’m sorry

Vada <3 (11:03 AM)

i’m so sorry

i know you don’t want to talk to me but i can explain

please

Vada <3 (11:04 AM)

i’m sorry

Vada <3 (1:43 PM)

where are you?

your mom just called and she says you’re not home yet

Vada <3 (1:45 PM)

i know you don’t want to talk to me, but please answer i’m worried about you

Vada <3 (3:03 PM)

baby, please

i’m so sorry

i love you

I love you.

My eyes sting, but I’m quick to blink the tears back. I can’t cry again. If I start, I might never stop.

I stare at Vada’s texts for a moment longer, hating how my mind conjures up all kinds of images of her kissing Mia, before tossing my phone onto the passenger seat and starting the car.

I pull onto the road and drive home on autopilot, barely aware of how I got there until I’m parking in the driveway.

Almost as soon as I turn off the engine, the front door flies open and my mom rushes out. She meets me halfway and tries to cup my face in her hands, but I shrug her off and brush past her.

“Sweetie—”

“I’m fine,” I snap, dodging my dad as he rushes out of the kitchen at the sound of my voice. I take the stairs two at a time, desperate to get to my room.

I know they can tell something happened. I know they know I’m far from fine.

But right now, I just want to sleep.

My head pounds from crying so much, and I just want this day to end. As soon as I reach my room, I lock the door, draw the curtains, and crawl into bed.

Death is a weird thing. One moment you’re there—alive, breathing, taking in the world—and the next, you’re just… gone.

I don’t know if I believe in ghosts or an afterlife or something beyond this, but I do know one thing: I’m afraid of dying.

Until now, every time we discussed what to do in case of an active shooter at school, I always imagined myself as the brave one. The person who tackles the shooter or throws themselves in front of their friends to save their lives. But now, after what happened?

I don’t remember much of the shooting, but I do remember being paralyzed with fear. I’ve never been so afraid in my life, and I’ve never had a stronger urge to stay alive than in that moment.

There was a very real chance I could have died. I mean, I almost did. If the bullet that tore my ear to shreds had been aimed just a little more to the right, I wouldn’t be here right now. But I am. I’m alive. Brody isn’t.

That thought settles deep in my chest as I watch his casket being lowered into the ground.

After locking myself in my room and ignoring my parents all night, I got up this morning feeling numb and exhausted. I dressed for the funeral and left under their watchful eyes. They cautiously offered to drive me, but I declined quietly.

I hate that they’re walking on eggshells around me, now more than ever, but I don’t have it in me to tell them to stop. I don’t have it in me to tell them what happened yesterday. They probably already know—Vada’s mom must have told them—but they also probably have a million questions I’m not ready to answer.

One of them is probably whether or not Vada and I are still together.

I honestly don’t know. What she did seems like a drunken mistake, but that doesn’t change the fact that she did it. She kissed Mia. No matter how drunk or high she was, there’s no excuse for that.

She’s been pushing me away ever since the shooting, and now this.

I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to fix what we had, but I do know that for now, I need space.

I watch Brody’s older brother throw a handful of dirt onto the lowered coffin. His parents drop a rose onto it while the preacher says a few words that go in one ear and right out the other.

Almost everyone around me is crying, especially Brody’s family. Some of my teammates shed a tear or two, but me?

I can’t cry.

After last night, I literally can’t. I have no more tears left in me.

I stand there, watching everything through a haze of numbness, until the service is finally over.

Some of my teammates ask about my ear, about how I’m feeling, and all I give them are vague, half-truths before moving on to offer my condolences to Brody’s family. Then, before the reception starts, I leave. I have no interest in small talk or in listening to people talk about what a great guy Brody was.

I drive home, relieved to find the house empty. My parents are both at work, so I make myself something to eat and sit at the kitchen island, eating in silence.

Every now and then, my phone vibrates with a message—either from Vada or from my teammates—but I ignore them all. Instead, I waste away the rest of the day on the couch, staring at the black screen of the TV.

Dinner is awkward. My parents try to talk, but I don’t have the energy. I tell them I’m going back to school tomorrow.

They ask if I’m sure, reminding me again that I can stay home as long as I need to. They’ve been telling me that a lot lately.

I tell them I’m sure.

I need a distraction.

I can’t sit at home anymore, alone with nothing but my thoughts.

I pull up in front of the school half an hour before the first class starts, yet the parking lot is already packed. Students linger around, catching up and goofing off like it’s just another day.

I watch as one student pulls up on a motorcycle and parks it in front of the school, the same spot where I used to park, which makes my mind replay the morning of the shooting when I was the one pulling up on my bike.

Since then, my parents had it towed back home, but I haven’t ridden it because the helmet would only irritate my ear and because my parents, now hyper-aware of every possible danger, won’t stop reminding me of how unsafe motorcycles are, so for now, I’m stuck driving my car.

As the minutes go by, more students arrive, and much to my relief, I don’t spot Vada among them, I know she’s here today and there’s a good chance we’ll run into each other, but we don’t have the same classes, so maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to see her.

Because if I do, she’s going to want to talk about what happened, but I’m not ready, I’m still processing, still hurting.

Ever since I found out what she did, it’s like a blanket of numbness has been draped over me, I don’t really care about anything anymore. What’s for dinner? I don’t care.Am I going to make it to my next therapy appointment? I don’t know.

On one hand, it’s peaceful, like, for the first time in my life, I don’t have to stress about anything, but on the other hand, it’s exhausting, and every now and then, when I see something beautiful, like a sunset, I want to enjoy it the way I used to, but I can’t.

After sitting in my car for a few more minutes, I finally grab my bag and follow the other students inside, I don’t make it far before someone calls my name and yanks on my bag when I don’t turn around.

I spin, ready to snap at whoever it is, only to deflate when I see Nick standing there.

For a split second, I panic because where Nick is, Vada usually isn’t far behind, but this time, he seems to be alone.

“Hey, you’re back,” he says cautiously, like he didn’t just yank on my bag the way someone tugs on a stuck drawer, impatient and forceful.

“I—yeah,” I say quietly, doing my best to ignore the glances from passing students, their eyes flicking to the bandage still wrapped around my head.

Nick looks at me expectantly, waiting for something more, so I add, “Uh—I saw clips of your protest the other day, it was great, really powerful stuff, man.”

I don’t know how much Nick knows about what happened between Vada and me or if he knows anything at all, but if he does, he doesn’t bring it up, instead, he nods and nudges me playfully.

“Thanks, I’m just really glad it got as much attention as it did. You know, things really need to change, and ever since what happened, I’ve been thinking… why did I survive, like, is there a reason, and I realized that maybe this is what I was meant to do all along.”

He keeps talking, telling me about his upcoming interview on NNC, the petition he started, and everything else, and I only half-listen as we grab our things from our lockers and head to class together.

All the while, I keep looking around, hoping to see Vada, dreading to see her, but she never appears, not once throughout the entire day.

Nick sticks by me almost the whole time, his endless talking filling the silence I don’t know how to deal with, and I don’t mind, it keeps me distracted.

When I get home, my parents are both there early, they ask how my first day back was, and all I say is that it was fine before excusing myself to my room to do homework.

Since the funeral yesterday, Vada hasn’t tried to contact me again, and the silence leaves a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I know I told her I needed space, but does her not texting or calling mean she’s giving up on us?

I keep replaying our last interaction in my head, the way the color drained from her face when she saw me standing in the hallway and realized I had heard everything she said.

At first, I was hurt, still am, then yesterday, after the funeral, I was angry while I wasted the day away on the couch, but now?

Now, I just feel empty, like her absence has left a hole inside me that only she can fill.

Still, she cheated, and I don’t know how to get past that or even how I feel about it anymore.

It’s only been three days, but I already miss her, and at the same time, I hope she stays away.

I finish my homework quickly before my dad calls me downstairs for dinner, we eat outside on the patio by the pool, the water glittering in the golden light of the setting sun.

Afterward, I excuse myself, go inside, shower, and climb into bed. I put on some trash TV, occasionally checking my phone for any new messages, but there aren’t any.

I fall asleep a few hours later, still waiting for something I’m not sure I even want.

The next morning isn’t much different from the last. I get ready, my movements slow and my mind foggy, eat breakfast with my parents, who try to include me in some small talk before eventually giving up, then head to school, not listening to the radio even though it’s turned up pretty loud in an attempt to fill the void inside me.

Nick greets me in the parking lot almost as soon as I get out of the car, and we make our way into the school, my eyes searching the sea of students for Vada, but she’s not there. Once again, we don’t have the same classes, so I guess we won’t be seeing each other again, but then, in the middle of French class, I get a text that makes my heart stop.

Vada <3 (11:12 AM)

come 2 stairs im hiiiigh

I frown, lowering my phone so it’s hidden under the table before quickly typing back.

You (11:12 AM)

What?

She hasn’t texted me since her last I love you, and my eyes keep darting between the two messages until she replies almost instantly.

Vada <3 (11:13 AM)

hurry im drowning

Confused and a little concerned, I raise my hand and ask to go to the restroom before hurrying out of the classroom and down the empty corridors. I keep checking my phone in case she texts something else, but she doesn’t. Then, when I turn the corner, I freeze.

Vada is lying on her back at the bottom of the stairs, a lazy smile on her face, her dark hair wild and splayed around her, covering parts of her face as she clumsily tries to brush it away.

"Vada?" I ask tentatively, snapping out of my trance and approaching her slowly so I don’t startle her.

At the sound of my voice, she lifts her head slightly and smiles, unfocused and loopy. It’s only then that I realize her lips, the entire right side of her chin, and her fingers are covered in ink.

What the hell did she do?

I thought maybe she lied in her text just to get me to talk to her, but she actually seems high, and when she speaks, it confirms it.

"Oh, heyyy," she drawls, letting her head fall back down with a thunk that makes me wince on her behalf, but she doesn’t even react.

I pocket my phone and rush to her side, my confusion momentarily overshadowed by my concern.

"Vada, what did you do?" I ask, kneeling next to her and brushing her hair out of her face.

She blinks blearily, chuckles, then falters as her eyes focus on me, her expression shifting slightly.

"What'r you doin' here?" she slurs, her hands grasping onto the hem of my sweater.

I look her over, making sure she doesn’t have any injuries from maybe falling down the stairs before meeting her glassy, unfocused eyes again.

"You texted me," I remind her, glancing around nervously. If anyone sees her like this, she could get expelled.

"Why is your mouth all blue? What did you do?" I ask again, making her whine as she turns her head away.

"Pen exploded in my mouth," she mumbles dramatically, writing nonsense on the floor with an imaginary pen, though her grip on my sweater doesn’t loosen. "I just..."

"You just...?" I prompt, but she completely blanks, staring at the bottom of the stairs like she’s forgotten what she was about to say.

Goddamnit.

I sigh, looking around again, jumping slightly when I hear a door close somewhere nearby.

"Shit, we have to get you out of here before someone sees," I whisper, but she doesn’t reply, just closes her eyes and hums, her fingers twitching against the fabric of my sweater.

Pulling out my phone, I quickly text Nick to meet me in the parking lot before slipping my phone back into my pocket and tapping Vada’s cheek lightly to get her to look at me.

"I’m going to get you out of here, okay?" I say, and for a moment, she just stares at me, a dazed, almost forlorn smile on her face before she nods.

"Mkay."

Slipping my arms underneath her knees and shoulders, I scoop her up, getting to my feet with a huff. I’ve carried her before—when she fell asleep on the couch and I brought her to bed, or when she passed out in the car after a long drive—but my lack of proper sleep and food has taken its toll, making her feel heavier than usual despite the fact that she weighs almost nothing.

I make sure her head is tucked against my chest, pausing for a moment when I see her eyes are closed, before making my way to the parking lot.

I almost run into a teacher or student twice, but I always manage to duck behind a corner just in time before slipping outside, where Nick is already waiting, leaning against his car.

He’s on his phone, frowning, but when he sees me coming, his jaw drops. He quickly puts his phone away and rushes over.

"Oh my God, what’s going on? What happened?" He brushes some hair out of Vada’s face, making her grumble against me while his nose wrinkles at the sight of the ink around her mouth before looking at me expectantly.

"She’s high," I say, tightening my grip on her when she turns to bury her face against my chest.

"She’s—what?" Nick gapes at me, but I just shake my head, my patience thinning as my arms start to ache.

"She’s high," I repeat, a little more impatiently. "I don’t know what she took, but she texted me, and I found her like this at the bottom of the stairs. We have to get her home before anyone sees."

"Shit. Okay... Yeah." Nick nods, fumbling for his keys before unlocking his car and opening the passenger door so I can put Vada inside.

I don’t have my keys with me since they’re still in my bag, and I didn’t bring it with me, so he’ll have to drive her home.

I carefully settle a grumbling Vada into the seat, but when I try to pull back to buckle her in, she tightens her grip on my sweater and pulls me closer again.

"No, don’t go," she whispers, her eyes still closed, and my stomach sinks.

I swallow thickly, my gaze tracing over her face before I gently pry her fingers off me. I wasn’t expecting our first time seeing each other again to turn out like this, and I don’t know whether she really wants me to stay since she hasn’t reached out to me, or if that’s just the drugs talking, so I pull back completely, buckle her in, and lower the back of her seat so she’s more comfortable.

Nick watches me with concern before sliding into the driver’s seat, turning on the car, then looking at me expectantly when I don’t get in the back.

"Well? Aren’t you getting in?" he asks.

I shake my head and take a step back, making him frown.

"Why not?"

"It’s... complicated," I say after a moment, watching his eyes dart between me and Vada. Before he can ask anything else, I add, "Just take her home, please?"

He hesitates for a moment before nodding. I offer him a grateful smile, then close the door and watch as he drives off.

What the fuck was that?

The next day, unsurprisingly, Vada wasn’t at school. Nick texted me after dropping her off, saying she’d be fine, but he didn’t press about what’s going on between us, which I’m thankful for.

She didn’t text me either, which makes me worry a little, but I feel like I’d be crossing a line if I texted or called to ask how she’s doing.

I still don’t know why she did drugs at school, she barely even used to touch alcohol when we went to parties before, much less anything harder, so I’m completely blindsided by her behavior, but then again, since the shooting, she’s changed a lot and I don’t feel like I know her anymore at all.

The hurt of what she did has finally settled, and even though it’s not as sharp as before, it still stings, leaving me sad and confused.

My parents are more worried than ever, but I still avoid them, barely acknowledging them during dinner or breakfast, but they don’t push me, which I’m grateful for.

Now it’s Friday, and I watch with bated breath as students file into the classroom while Ms. Foster squares some papers on her desk, waiting for everyone to arrive before she begins her lesson.

More and more students trickle in, and for a moment, I think Vada might not come to school today either, but then she appears in the doorway, and I tense at the sight of her.

She’s dressed the way she usually is—an oversized shirt that absolutely does not match her basketball shorts and sneakers—but what catches my attention is the fact that the shirt she’s wearing is mine.

It’s old, something I had forgotten about until now, until she just walked in, casually wearing it while her eyes sweep over the room.

She looks tired, dark circles resting under her eyes, her whole body sagging in on itself, but her long dark hair looks freshly washed, falling down her back in soft waves, and her mouth is no longer stained with blue ink.

All in all, she looks good, the way she always does, and I feel a tug of longing deep in my chest at the sight of her, but then I remember how she kissed someone else, and my heart sinks.

Her eyes continue to scan the room until they finally land on me. She straightens slightly, though her face remains unreadable, adjusting the strap of her bag where it hangs halfheartedly off her shoulder.

For a moment, we just look at each other, taking each other in, until someone shoves past her to get inside, forcing her to move further into the classroom. Her eyes flick toward our usual seats at the front, where two open spots remain—almost as if everyone else knows we usually sit there—but today, I’ve chosen a seat near the back, surrounded by occupied chairs with no empty spots beside me.

Seeing her is painful, and even though I helped her two days ago, I’m not ready to talk to her yet, if that’s even something she wants to do.

She looks between me and the empty seats again, and when a flicker of guilt crosses her face, I look away while she reluctantly takes a seat by herself.

The day goes by faster than I expected since I manage to avoid Vada for the rest of the day after our first class together. Now, I’m walking to my car, headphones in my ears, listening to some podcast my therapist recommended the last time I saw him.

I unlock the car and open the back door when I reach it, shoving my bag into the back seat before closing it again and reaching for the driver’s side door. Before I can open it, I feel a tap on my shoulder, making me flinch and yank my headphones out of my ears.

"Sorry," Vada mumbles sheepishly when I whirl around, wringing her fingers together in front of her.

So much for successfully avoiding her…

I clear my throat and pause the podcast, taking a step back so I’m not so close to her.

"It’s, uh, okay."

I glance up hesitantly and find Vada already looking at me, her expression conflicted. Her eyebrows are drawn together slightly, and her dark eyes, which usually shine with mischief, are dull and full of sadness.

"I..." she hesitates, shoulders tensing. "Can we talk?"

A part of me wants to say yes immediately because, after the last two days, I’ve realized I miss her horribly, but the other part of me—the part that was hurt—pushes that feeling to the back of my mind.

She hurt me.

She hurt me like no one else ever has, and she did it while I was trying to be there for her, while I was suffering myself.

She kissed Mia.

I really want to say yes, especially because those eyes of hers always make me weak, but I can’t. Not yet. Not only because I don’t know what I’d say, but also because I’m not sure I want to potentially hurt her by saying something I don’t mean in the long run.

I helped her when she was high, yes, but that doesn’t mean we’re good again. I still have a lot to process, and if she doesn’t get that or respect that, maybe our relationship wasn’t meant to be in the first place.

I’m about to say no, but my tongue feels heavy, so I take a moment before settling on, "I can’t. I have therapy."

"Oh." Vada steps back and nods, her lips pressing into a thin smile. "Okay..."

I offer a small, equally thin smile—not because I’m happy, but because the whole situation is just awkward—then watch as she turns and walks away, looking utterly defeated.

I sigh, then slide into my car and pull out of the school’s parking lot.

I do have therapy, but not until tonight.

I just couldn’t bring myself to outright say no, so I used it as an excuse.

"Hey..."

I look up from my book on my bed to find my dad standing in the doorway, dressed in a nice suit and wearing the watch my mom got him for their ten-year anniversary.

"Hey, what’s up?" I ask quietly, slipping a finger between the pages to keep my place before closing it.

He steps into the room, brushing his fingers over my track medals on the hook next to my door with a small smile before turning his attention back to me.

"Mom and I are heading out now. Are you sure you’re going to be fine all alone?"

I chuckle softly and nod, running a hand through my hair. "I’m sure, Dad. We’ve been over this. It’s just a business dinner. It’s not like you’re going on a cruise for months on end."

My dad raises his hands in mock surrender, shaking his head fondly. "Okay, okay. I’m just making sure."

It’s Saturday night, and I spent the whole day catching up on schoolwork until I finally had enough and flopped onto my bed to read. My parents have an important business dinner tonight with one of their high-profile clients, and even though they offered to have one of them stay home to keep me company, I insisted they both go. It’s an important dinner, and it’s best if they’re both there.

"It’s fine, Dad." I wave him off and go to open my book again, expecting him to leave, but he lingers at the bottom of my bed, making me raise an eyebrow.

"Yes?"

He stiffens slightly, as if surprised I noticed, then gives me a hesitant smile. "Oh, nothing, it’s just… You know you can talk to us about anything, right?"

Sighing, I put my book down for good and sit up a little more against the headboard. This isn’t the first time he or Mom has said something like this, but until now, I just nodded and brushed them off. It’s getting to be a bit too much, though, so I think it’s time I address it.

"I know," I say honestly, because, really, I do. I can talk to them about anything. "But I’m not ready to talk about anything yet, Dad. Not about the shooting, or about Vada, or anything else, okay? I... need more time."

His expression softens, and he pats my foot gently. "Okay. I understand. I’m just saying."

"I know." I smile, too—one of my first genuine smiles in a while.

"Good." He pats my foot again just as my mom calls for him, saying she’s ready. "That’s my cue."

I nod, wishing him a good night and reassuring him that I’ll call if I need anything before he finally leaves, once again touching my medals on his way out.

I hear the front door open and close downstairs, followed by the sound of the car pulling out of the driveway. Then… silence.

The palm trees outside my window rustle in the wind, carrying gray clouds across the sky all day, a warning of the coming rain. I ignore it, settling back into my book until my stomach rumbles.

Heading downstairs, I heat up some leftovers from lunch, eating at the kitchen island while watching a random YouTube video on my phone. Outside, the rain finally starts, tapping softly against the windows as I finish my meal.

After putting my dishes in the dishwasher and turning it on since it’s full, I make my way back to my room. Halfway up the stairs, I stop though when a loud pounding echoes from the front door. Frowning, I pause before cautiously making my way back down.

I check the camera feed on the panel next to the door, a jolt of surprise shooting through me when I see who it is.

It’s Vada.

I open the door, immediately getting whipped in the face by wind and stray drops of rain. But that’s nothing compared to what Vada is dealing with.

She’s drenched, her arms crossed over her chest against the cold, her hair dripping wet. A few strands stick to her forehead and the side of her face, while the rest is pulled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck.

She’s shivering, and as soon as I open the door, she looks up at me with wide, uncertain eyes.

I’m so shocked to see her here, not having expected it, that I don’t even give her a chance to speak before grabbing her arm and pulling her inside.

"What are you doing, you idiot?" I scold, my voice sharp with concern. "You’re going to get sick!"

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, and just like that, I soften.

"Don't apologize," I correct gently, tugging on the sleeve of her soaked shirt. "Just come with me. Let’s get you out of those wet clothes."

She looks at me like a deer caught in headlights, frozen in place, and it takes a small nod of my head toward the stairs to make her mumble a quiet "okay" and follow me to my room.

My mind is racing, wondering why she’s here and why she walked all this way in this weather, but I push the questions aside. I’ll ask once she’s in dry clothes.

In my bedroom, she lingers by the door, looking uncertain, and my heart aches at the sight. She used to feel so at home here, used to jump onto my bed without a second thought or grab whatever she wanted from my closet like it was hers, but now she just stands there, hesitant, like she’s waiting for permission.

I pull some sweatpants and a hoodie from my closet, knowing they’ll be way too big on her, but it’s all I have, so it’ll have to do.

"Here," I say, handing them to her before stepping into my en-suite bathroom to grab a towel for her hair. "I’ll be downstairs when you’re done."

Vada looks like she’s close to tears, and I can’t blame her. This is the most we’ve talked since I found out about the kiss—well, apart from when she was high, but that doesn’t count—but she doesn’t say anything except a meek little "thank you" before I step out of the room and close the door behind me.

I head downstairs, my mind racing with all the possibilities of why Vada came here. From the looks of it, she showed up on a whim, otherwise, she would have asked Nick to drive her, or worn a jacket, or at least brought an umbrella, but that still doesn’t answer the question why?

Without thinking, I fill the kettle next to the coffee machine with water and pull two mugs from the cupboard, mindlessly dropping teabags into them, ginger lemon, Vada’s favorite, before waiting for the water to boil.

As steam rises, filling the kitchen with the warm, citrusy scent of the tea, I pick up the mugs and carry them to the living room just as Vada comes downstairs.

She fumbles with the too-long sleeves of my hoodie, pulling them over her hands, and I feel a strange mix of emotions at the sight of my last name printed across her chest. I hadn’t even realized I gave her one of my official track hoodies—the one with our school’s name and my last name embroidered on it.

My sweatpants pool around her ankles, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her hair is drier now, loose and falling in soft waves over her shoulders, framing her face in a way that makes her look smaller, more vulnerable than I’m used to.

She hesitates, unsure of what to do, watching me carefully as I sit down on the couch and set the mugs on the coffee table. After a moment, she slowly joins me, keeping a noticeable space between us.

"Here," I say quietly, nudging her tea closer before taking my own mug and lifting it to my lips.

It’s too hot, and the second I take a sip, I wince as it burns my tongue, but I set it down quickly, pretending like nothing happened.

"Thank you."

Vada picks up her mug with both hands, wrapping her fingers around it in search of warmth before taking a hesitant sip, careful not to burn her tongue the way I did.

I dip my chin in acknowledgment, keeping my eyes on her while she drinks. Her gaze meets mine over the rim of her mug before quickly darting away. She slowly lowers the mug into her lap, pulling one leg onto the couch and shifting so she’s sitting on her ankle. It looks like she’s deliberately stalling for time, but I don’t push her. She came here for a reason, and she’s just not sure how to say it yet.

Yesterday, I said I wasn’t ready to talk, but when she showed up at my door, soaking wet and looking so lost, I couldn’t help but let her in. Now, I want to know why she’s here and what she has to say.

"I..." she starts quietly, but her voice falters when her eyes meet mine again.

She watches me for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek until her chin starts quivering. Her eyes fill with tears, and she quickly looks away again.

A lump rises in my throat, but I try to swallow it down as I sit back, hugging my arms around myself while she struggles to find the words.

"I'm... so sorry," she says eventually, sniffling. "For coming here, for causing even more trouble... and I know you said you weren’t ready to talk, but I just had to see you. I—I miss you."

She hesitantly meets my eyes, as if she’s afraid of what I might say, but I stay quiet, my chest tightening with every word that leaves her.

"This past week... I’ve been miserable without you. Every morning I wake up, hoping that what happened was just a nightmare, but it’s not. It’s not and it’s all my fault."

Her breath hitches, and she lowers her head, a tear slipping down her cheek that she doesn’t bother to wipe away.

"I kissed Mia, and I hurt you, and there’s no excuse for that. I kissed her even though I knew it was wrong, but ever since the shooting... I’ve been feeling so... empty. At first, I had constant nightmares. I was afraid to go back to school. I even peed my fucking pants once because I didn’t go to the bathroom all day and then I stepped on an empty can outside and it scared me so bad I—" She chokes on a sob, her grip tightening around her mug, but I still see the way her hands shake. "Then everything just stopped. I shut everything and everyone out because it was easier, but the emptiness took over and I felt like I was drowning."

She chokes on another sob, her breathing uneven.

"Every time I see you, I’m reminded of what happened and how close I came to losing you, and it broke me more than you could ever imagine. I know that isn’t an excuse for anything, I know. I fucked up so badly, and I won’t even blame you if you don’t ever want to see me again after this, but I just had to let you know...

She swallows hard, her voice growing weaker.

"Mia reached out to me after the shooting because she was home alone, and we hid together that day. We spent most of our time at her place because her dads are in Japan somewhere, and we drank wine and smoked weed and..."

She trails off, pressing her lips together, shame written all over her face.

And then we kissed.

She doesn’t say it, but she doesn’t have to. The words get stuck in her throat.

I clench my fists and close my own eyes, willing the image of her and Mia out of my mind.

"I swear, I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and if I could take it all back, I would. I never would have shut you out, I never would have kissed Mia, and I never would have done drugs, but I can’t change what happened." Her voice is thick with regret. "All I can do is try to explain and say I’m sorry, because I am. I’m so fucking sorry—"

She gasps between words, sobbing harder now. "But I get it if you want to kick me out. I get it if you hate me and don’t want to see me again, but—but—"

Before she can start hyperventilating, I open my eyes and scoot closer, prying her tea from her hands and setting it on the coffee table.

"Vada, Vada, stop," I say quietly, making her look up, her chest still heaving.

Her bottom lip quivers, and I blink back my own tears, forcing myself not to reach out, not to brush her hair behind her ear, not to wipe away her tears.

"I don’t hate you," I admit softly.

She lets out a broken whimper.

"And I get it. I get it, believe me, because I’ve barely coped either since it happened. But you really hurt me, and I... I can’t just move on as if nothing happened."

Vada meets my eyes, and the regret and sorrow I see in hers make my heart clench.

"I missed you, too," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. "But... I need time, okay?"

She plays with the sleeves of my hoodie, her breathing still shaky but more controlled now. Slowly, she nods.

She doesn’t say anything, so I say, "Okay?" again, gentler this time.

She finally meets my gaze, whispering a broken, "Okay..."

The silence between us settles, heavy but not unbearable. The storm outside grows stronger, as rain pelts against the windows and thunder rumbles in the distance.

Vada swallows thickly and wrings her fingers in her lap before abruptly getting to her feet. I follow suit, our half-full mugs abandoned on the coffee table.

"I should go," she says quietly, already making her way around the couch toward the front door.

I catch her wrist gently and shake my head, looking at her incredulously.

"Like hell you are," I say. "It’s pouring out there, it’s dark, and I’m not letting you walk home. It’s not safe to drive either."

She looks at me, as if asking Then what am I supposed to do?

I sigh, releasing her wrist. "Come on, you can stay the night."

Her eyes widen. She wasn’t expecting that at all.

We’re far from being okay, but I’m not about to send her out in weather like this. I’m also not comfortable driving her home in this storm, and there’s no way I’d let her take a shady Uber either. So, without giving her time to argue, I tug her upstairs, ignoring her dumbfounded expression as I lead her to my room.

"You know where everything is," I say, referring to the toothbrush and face wash she’s left in my bathroom before. "Take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch."

She whirls around, seemingly ready to protest, but I’m already at the door with my hand on the doorknob.

"Good night," I say quietly.

She exhales, deflating slightly. "Good night."

Her eyes stay on me until I close the door behind me.

I brush my teeth in my parents’ bathroom, grabbing a spare toothbrush from under the sink before heading back downstairs and settling onto the couch.

I get what Vada means—trying to find something, anything, to replace the emptiness inside you—but like she said, it doesn’t excuse her kissing someone else. I still don’t know how I feel about all of this.

Right now, I’m just tired.

Before settling in, I pull out my phone and quickly type out a message to Millie, just in case she or her parents are worried about Vada’s whereabouts.

You (11:42 PM)

Hey, just letting you know Vada’s safe. She showed up here in the rain, and with the storm, I didn’t want her driving home, so she’s staying the night.

I don’t wait for a reply. I just turn off my phone and pull the throw blanket from the back of the couch over myself, tucking it under my chin and closing my eyes as the storm rages on outside.

I fall asleep a couple of minutes later to the sound of rain pelting against the windows and thunder rumbling in the distance.

"So, what are you doing today?" Vada asks hesitantly as I pull onto her street.

The entire drive has been quiet, the weight of our conversation from last night still lingering in the air.

This morning, my parents found me on the couch and asked why I wasn’t in bed. When I simply said "Vada's here," their eyes widened slightly before they quickly nodded in understanding, not pressing me for more before heading upstairs to bed.

They didn’t comment on her presence at breakfast either. When she came into the kitchen, they greeted her the same way they always do, but excused themselves fairly quickly, vanishing somewhere in the house with their coffee and toast while Vada and I silently ate cream cheese bagels at the kitchen table.

She wanted to leave right after waking up, but when she admitted she hadn’t eaten dinner last night, I insisted she have breakfast first. So we ate together, still saying little, before I offered to drive her home.

"I don’t know yet," I say honestly, stopping in front of her house. "I still have to catch up on some schoolwork, so… yeah."

Vada hums in acknowledgment and reaches for the door handle. She hesitates for a moment before opening it, turning back to me with a cautious expression.

"See you around?"

"See you around," I confirm, offering a tight-lipped smile.

She steps out, still dressed in my clothes, and makes her way up the front steps. When Millie opens the door and sees me, she waves, and I wave back, offering her a brighter smile before watching both of them disappear inside.

Only when the door closes behind them do I finally put the car in drive and head back home.

It’s Monday again, one week and a day since Vada showed up on my doorstep in the rain, and to be honest, not a lot has happened since then. I’ve been going to school like always, keeping up with therapy, and I finally got my stitches removed from my ear. It looks a little awkward now since the bullet basically severed the shell of my ear almost completely from the side of my head, but honestly? I’m just grateful to be alive, and it doesn’t look that bad.

Vada and I see each other occasionally at school, acknowledging each other with small nods, but other than that, we haven’t really interacted. I still sit in the back of our shared classes, but unlike the first time, she doesn’t look regretful anymore—just sad. When she sees me, she offers a small, knowing smile before sitting at the front without complaint.

Nick’s caught in the middle, and I’m pretty sure Vada told him what happened because when he saw me last Monday, he had this look, like he knew everything but didn’t want to pry. He’s always been more her friend than mine, so I can’t be mad that he mostly sticks by her while I’ve been hanging out with my track teammates instead.

Brody’s death somehow brought us all closer, and after practice on Friday, we went bowling together. It was nice, in a bittersweet kind of way.

My parents have also backed off the way I indirectly asked them to, but I do notice how their smiles get a little brighter whenever I engage in small talk with them. Considering everything, I guess I am doing better. The nightmares still come, but less frequently now. The only thing that really keeps me up these days, the one thing that still lingers like a thorn in my side, is Vada’s absence from my life.

Ever since I dropped her off after she spent the night at mine, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what she said. She wasn’t there to beg for forgiveness—she just told me what happened because she felt like it was the right thing to do. And when she said she’d understand if I wanted her to leave, or if I hated her? That broke me a little.

Because I don’t hate her. I couldn’t.

If she’d slept with Mia… okay, that would be a different story. But kissing her? In a drunken haze, just trying to feel something in the emptiness the shooting left in her? I get it. Maybe I should still be mad. Maybe I should still be hurt. But the truth is, I’m not.

And it doesn’t help that she’s everywhere.

At school, where she keeps a respectful distance. On my phone, where a picture of her drinking a Slurpee is still my background, or on my bedside table, where there’s a framed photo of us curled up in front of the fireplace in my backyard, taken by my parents when neither of us was looking.

She’s just... there. Always.

I keep telling my therapist the same thing—how I should be mad, but I’m just not anymore, and that I miss her. He tells me there’s no timeline for how long we feel things, and that if I miss her now, then that’s okay. If I want to do something about it, I should.

And I will. I know I will.

But I can feel it, I just need a little more time. Just a fraction of space before I take that step. Because the last thing I want is to rush into something I’m not completely ready for. That wouldn’t be fair to her, or to me.

And I know Vada. I know she’d rather wait for something real than settle for something that doesn’t last.

The last bell of the day rings, dismissing me and the rest of the class. I pack everything up with a slight frown, a headache pounding behind my eyes. Almost all of the other students have gone home already, but a handful of us had to stay for an extra AP math class. Vada and Nick both left after lunch since they don’t take this class, and honestly, I’m kind of jealous even though I like math.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out of the classroom amidst the other students, saying goodbye to Mr. Henson on the way out before making my way through the mostly empty school and across the parking lot. I get in my car, throwing my bag onto the back seat before plugging the AUX cable into my phone and turning on my playlist. Only when the music is playing do I start the car, rolling the windows down to let the late autumn air brush against my cheek as I drive home.

I’m only on the road for about five minutes when my phone starts ringing at a red light. Glancing at the screen, I’m surprised to see Millie calling. I answer and put my phone on speaker just as the light turns green and I start driving again.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N,” Millie says hesitantly. “Is now a bad time?”

“No, not at all. What’s up?” I ask, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel. No matter what happened between Vada and me, I’m still really fond of Millie, and even though I’m surprised she’s calling, I don’t mind.

“This is kind of weird, but practice just finished and Mom was supposed to pick me up, but she just called and said Vada’s therapy appointment ran over, so she won’t be able to make it across town for another forty minutes. I was wondering… if you’re not busy or anything, if you could maybe pick me up?” Her voice gets unnaturally high at the end of her sentence, and before I can say anything, she rushes to add, “I would call Dad, but he’s still at work, and I don’t want to bother him. I just thought—”

Already making a U-turn to head toward Millie’s middle school, I chuckle and cut her off gently. “It’s fine, Millie. I’ll come get you. I’m in the car anyway.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” I say. It’s not the first time I’ve picked her up from somewhere, and I’d hate for her to sit around for almost an hour waiting. “I’ll be there in ten, okay? Do you want to stay on the phone until then, or are you fine?”

“No, it’s fine. Maya and Lilly are here too, so I’m fine. Thank you,” she says quietly, making me smile softly.

“Alright then. You’re welcome.”

She hangs up, and I drive to her school, pulling into the parking lot near the lacrosse field, where she’s still dressed in her jersey and shorts, gym bag slung over her shoulder as she chats with two other girls—Maya and Lilly, I assume.

I pull up next to them, smiling when Millie immediately waves at me. She hugs the other two girls before getting into my car, stuffing her bag between her feet and buckling herself in.

“Hey,” I say, pulling back onto the road while she grabs my phone to change the music. “How was school?”

She sighs heavily and launches into a rant about how one of her teachers should be fired for sheer incompetence and only still has a job because of tenure. Then she tells me about lacrosse practice and how their coach had them doing shooting drills today before turning in her seat to look at me with a sheepish smile.

“What?” I ask with a confused grin.

“Can we go to Starbucks?” she asks, her eyes darting to the drive-thru coming up on the right.

I chuckle softly, already switching lanes. “Sure, but you’re not getting anything with caffeine. I don’t want your mom to kill me when you’re bouncing off the walls later.”

“Yay!” she beams.

I pull into the drive-thru, letting her order some ridiculously sugary drink that will definitely keep her up just as much as coffee would have (I obviously didn’t think this through, but oh well). I get a matcha for myself, then we grab our drinks and make our way back onto the road.

Millie flips through songs on my phone, sipping her drink with a satisfied smile before she suddenly turns a little more solemn, glancing at me.

“Yes?” I say without looking away from the road, sensing her shifting nervously in her seat out of the corner of my eye.

“What?”

“Spit it out,” I say. “There’s clearly something on your mind.”

She hesitates for a moment, just as one song fades out and a softer one starts playing.

“Are… Are you and Vada okay?” she asks cautiously, right as I turn onto her street.

I let out a slow breath and don’t answer until I’ve pulled up in front of her house. Turning in my seat to face her, I offer a small smile and shrug. “I don’t know yet,” I admit honestly. She looks a little sad at that, so I quietly add, “But I think we’ll be fine.”

That makes her perk up a little, and she smiles tentatively before nodding, not pushing it further. She picks up her bag from between her legs and places it on her lap, but she doesn’t make a move to get out just yet. “Do you want to come in for a bit?” she asks hopefully. “I was planning on filming a new vlog and could use your help.”

I want to say yes because I have nothing else to do tonight, but Ms. Cavell’s car is in the driveway, which means she got home earlier than expected. It also means Vada is home and I’m not ready to face her like that just yet. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” I lie, adding, “Some other time, though. Okay?”

Not having expected much, Millie only resigns a little and nods. “Okay. Thanks for picking me up again. And thanks for—” she waves her empty Starbucks cup with a small grin.

“You’re welcome.” I send her a smile and watch her get out of the car, waiting until she’s safely inside before driving home.

“You’re not at practice for a little over a week, and you’re already slower than a turtle,” one of my teammates teases as I sit on the track, breathing heavily after taking a sip of water.

It’s my first time back at practice since the shooting, but I’m not that slow.

“Oh, shut up, Johannson,” I retort, rolling my eyes as I push myself up. The rest of the team is gathered around our coach, so I make my way over to join them.

“That’s it for today, people. You did good. Now go home, get some rest, and come back tomorrow for some more ass-kicking,” he says, making us all chuckle as we break apart and head for the locker rooms.

The sky above the track is painted in shades of pink and orange as the sun starts to set, and I take a moment to enjoy the cool evening breeze before finally heading inside.

I shower quickly and get dressed, throwing my bag over my shoulder before wishing the others a good night.

Tonight, my parents are taking me out to dinner—even though it’s a school night—and I’ve got to admit, I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t gone out since the shooting, and after practice, a good meal sounds like exactly what I need. It’s a small step toward normalcy after the craziness of the last two weeks.

I’m about to get into my car, my legs feeling heavy after practice, when someone calls my name from a distance, making me stop and turn around.

Much to my surprise, I see Vada half-walking, half-running toward me, clearly in a hurry to catch me before I leave. My eyebrows knit together as I take her in, a little confused about why she’s still here at school when it ended two hours ago.

“Vada? What are you still doing here?” I ask, my tone curious rather than accusatory.

She comes to a stop in front of me, slightly out of breath, and I watch as her sheepish smile fades into something more uncertain. It’s like she didn’t think this all the way through, like she hadn’t considered the possibility that I would stop and wait for her.

“I—Nick and I had to finish a project in the library,” she finally says, and just then, I spot Nick walking out of the school, phone in hand. When he catches me looking, he just nods and waves, completely unsurprised to see me standing here.

I glance at Vada again. A project? My gaze flicks toward Nick, noticing that neither he nor Vada has their bags with them. They must’ve left them in their lockers—if they even brought them to begin with.

Something tells me they didn’t.

I drag out my “Okay…” watching her closely, but she either doesn’t notice or chooses to ignore my suspicion.

“I just… I saw you coming out of the locker room, and I—I wanted to thank you for picking up Millie yesterday,” she says quickly, like she just thought of it and used it as an excuse to talk to me.

I don’t call her out on it, though. Instead, I shrug, offering a small smile. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, it was no big deal, really.”

Vada shakes her head and glances over her shoulder, where Nick is making his way to his car—not parked too far from mine. It’s obvious he’s giving us space.

The fact that she waited here this whole time just for a chance to talk to me makes something warm settle in my chest.

She shifts on her feet, fiddling with her fingers, and I soften at the nervous habit.

“No, it was. Thank you. She kept talking about how you got her Starbucks at dinner. Like, she wouldn’t shut up about it,” she continues, her voice a little uncertain, as if she’s trying to make conversation just to keep me here a little longer.

I exhale sharply, not quite a laugh, but something close to it. “Well, good to know she had a nice time.”

She hums in acknowledgment, and a charged silence settles between us. I shift on my feet, hesitating before reaching for the door handle of my car, when she suddenly blurts out,

“Can we talk?”

I freeze.

“Like, again,” she clarifies, her voice softer now. “I feel like a lot of stuff is still unsaid between us, and—and I would like to know where you stand, so…”

Her words hang in the air between us.

A week ago, I would have said no. I would have told her I wasn’t ready. But I’ve had time to reflect, to sit with everything, and I’ve realized I do want to talk. I want to hear what she has to say, and maybe more than that, I just want her.

I meet her eyes, my throat a little dry as I nod. “I’d like that.”

She blinks, her jaw slackening for a split second before she quickly recovers. Her back straightens, and she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear in a way that makes my chest tighten.

“O-Okay.”

I smile softly, even though she isn’t looking at me anymore, and add, “But I can’t tonight. My parents are taking me out to dinner.”

She looks up with wide, hopeful eyes and nods quickly. “Sure, okay. No worries… Have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

I nod. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Vada hesitates for a moment, then nods again, mumbling a quiet, “Okay,” before turning on her heel and walking off toward Nick’s car.

I watch as she says something to him that makes him raise his eyebrows before he glances at me with an amused smile. Whatever she told him makes him smirk, and before he can tease her, she quickly shoos him away and practically shoves him into the car.

I chuckle as I watch them drive off, then get into my own car, a strange giddy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

Maybe I’m just hungry.

But I don’t think so.

A cup being set down on my table makes me look up the next morning, and when I see Vada standing in front of me with a shy smile, I can’t help but smile a little too.

“Uh, hi,” I say. “What’s this?” I glance at the cup, noticing she has one too, and so does Nick, who’s chatting with some friends near the door.

“Nick and I went to Starbucks—”

“Per usual,” I tease lightly, cutting her off.

She blinks, momentarily taken aback, before a small spark of amusement flickers in her eyes.

“And I thought you might want some too. Oh, and—” She shifts her bag, which is slung over one shoulder, pulling it in front of her and setting her cup down momentarily before digging inside. A second later, she pulls out a small brown paper bag and sets it in front of me. “—cake pops.”

Overcome with emotion, I clear my throat and take the bag from her without immediately looking up, which makes her pause. When I finally do glance at her, she’s watching me with a hesitant, almost crushed expression. It dawns on me that she probably thinks I don’t appreciate it.

“Thank you,” I say quickly before she can say anything else, offering her a reassuring smile.

She perks up again almost instantly. “You’re welcome.”

She moves to turn around, likely heading to her usual seat at the front of the class, but before I can think twice about it, I stand up abruptly. My chair scrapes against the floor, making her pause and turn back around, a small crinkle forming between her brows.

“Uh—You can sit here,” I say, nodding at the empty seat beside me. “If you want to.”

Her eyes widen slightly, darting between me and the chair as if she isn’t sure she heard me right.

The bell rings, snapping her out of it, and she’s quick to say, “Yeah, okay…” before slipping into the seat beside me.

As class begins, I catch her stealing glances at me every now and then, and for the first time in weeks, the weight in my chest feels just a little lighter.

Mr. Wilson drones on about atomic bonds, his voice blending into the usual background noise, until the class finally nears its end. Just as I start to zone out, he announces that we’ll be holding a presentation in pairs next week on an atomic bond of our choosing.

Some people groan, others get excited, already turning to their friends in hopes of pairing up, but then Mr. Wilson shuts that down by stating we’ll be working with the person next to us.

My heart does this weird little flutter as I glance over at Vada, only to find her already looking at me with a tentative smile.

I smile back, a silent way of saying I don’t mind being paired with her, and just like that, the class is dismissed.

“So…” Vada says as we stand, grabbing my empty cup to toss in the trash as we walk out. Nick stays back to ask Mr. Wilson something, leaving us alone in the hallway. “When do you wanna work on this thing?”

Our next chemistry class is on Friday, which means we either start after school today or tomorrow.

“Well, I have therapy and practice tomorrow, so maybe tonight? I could swing by after practice?” I suggest without really thinking.

Vada stops walking for a brief second, clearly caught off guard by the casual way I suggest going to her place instead of the library. It’s something we always used to do—either at mine or hers—so it didn’t even register as a big deal when I said it. But now, I wonder if it was the wrong thing to suggest.

I open my mouth to offer an alternative, but before I can, she nods and gives me a genuine smile.

“Yeah, okay. Sounds good. Just text me when you’re on the way over so I can lock Millie in her room so she doesn’t hog you,” she jokes lightly, though I can hear the slight hesitation in her voice.

I laugh, and the tension in her shoulders visibly melts away, her face lighting up in a way that makes something warm settle in my chest.

“Okay,” I say, still smiling.

Right then, Nick rejoins us, raising an eyebrow as he glances between us. “You guys good?” he asks casually.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Vada answers almost too quickly before glancing at me for confirmation.

I hum in agreement, and Nick nods in approval. “Good,” he says before whisking Vada off toward their next class while I head in the opposite direction to Math AP.

As I make my way to class, I can’t help but feel a mix of nerves and something else I can’t quite name. I’m not sure how tonight is going to go, but honestly? I’m not mad that we got paired up.

Maybe this is the push we need. Maybe this will finally get us to talk.

The rest of the day passes uneventfully, but every time I think about going to Vada’s, my stomach flips—whether in a good or bad way, I’m still not sure.

At practice, Coach kicks our asses as usual, putting us through sprint intervals before finally dismissing us around five. We’re all exhausted, showering and changing in near silence before exchanging tired goodbyes and heading home.

On my way to my car, I send my parents a quick text about the project, then hop in and start driving to Vada’s.

My hair is still damp from the shower, so even though it’s a nice night, I keep the windows rolled up. Maybe I just need the quiet, a little containment before I have to face whatever this is going to be. The drive feels way shorter than I expected, and before I know it, I’m pulling into the Cavells’ driveway behind their two cars.

I hesitate for just a moment before grabbing my school bag—leaving my gym bag in the backseat since it smells like pure death—and making my way to the front door.

I ring the doorbell, and almost immediately, I hear some commotion inside, followed by Vada’s voice snapping, “Millie, I swear to God—” before the door swings open.

She’s wearing sweatpants and a comfortable shirt and looks a little breathless when she says, “Hi.”

A small smile tugs at my lips. “Hi.”

We just… stare at each other for a second, the air between us feeling heavier than it should, before Vada blinks and steps aside, gesturing me in. I toe off my shoes by the door, the familiar smell of their house hitting me harder than I expected.

“How was practice?” she asks, trying to sound casual.

“Exhausting,” I say, running a hand through my still-damp hair.

She gives me a sympathetic look, and for a split second, I see a flicker of something else in her eyes. Fondness? Nostalgia? Maybe both.

She used to stay and watch practice sometimes, perched on the bleachers with a drink in her hand while my teammates relentlessly teased me for it. I never minded, though. If anything, it made me push myself harder—partly to impress her, and partly because I knew exactly what she was thinking whenever I wiped sweat off my face with my shirt.

I shake the memory away as Vada leads me through the dining room, where her parents and Millie are sitting at the table, playing what looks like an aggressively intense round of Uno.

For a game that’s usually loud and chaotic, the three of them are suspiciously focused.

Millie barely acknowledges me when I pass by, too busy squinting at her mom like she’s about to make a power move. I wave a little awkwardly at them, and Mr. Cavell shoots me a quick grin before his eyes dart back to his cards.

Vada barely slows down, brushing past them without a second glance and leading me straight to her room.

Inside, the soft glow of fairy lights wraps around the headboard of Vada’s unmade bed, casting warm shadows along the walls. Her signature candle is already burning, filling the air with its familiar scent. Papers are scattered across her desk, her laptop resting on top of some of them, and though there’s a sweater draped over the back of her chair and a lone sock near the bed, the room doesn’t feel messy. It feels lived in—comfortable, familiar.

I feel myself relax as Vada grabs her laptop and sits on the bed, waiting for me to do the same—just like we’ve done so many times before. There’s still a bit of space between us as we both lean against the headboard, but it’s not as stark as the distance that separated us on my couch. It’s comfortable.

We agree on making our presentation about covalent bonds, falling into an easy rhythm: I research while Vada puts the slides together. We work for nearly an hour until we’re almost finished, only needing to add pictures. She reassures me she’ll take care of it tomorrow, rubbing at her eyes before closing her laptop and setting it on her nightstand.

I tuck mine into my bag at the foot of the bed, then, feeling a little awkward now that the work is done, sit back and bury my hands in my lap, playing with the strings of my sweatpants. Vada shifts beside me, mirroring my hesitation, before clearing her throat.

“Do you… also have nightmares about what happened?” she asks quietly.

The question catches me off guard. I assumed if we talked about anything tonight, it’d be about us, but instead, she’s asking about that.

I take a moment to answer, keeping my gaze on my lap. “I do,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. “Not as often as before, though. You?”

She hums in response and shifts lower on the bed, rolling onto her side and curling her hands against her chest. “I do,” she says, voice quieter now. “But since I started therapy, they’ve been happening less.”

Right. Millie mentioned that Vada was seeing someone now. The thought makes me proud—proud that she’s trying, that she’s working through everything rather than letting it eat her alive. And I’m relieved that it’s actually helping.

A beat of silence stretches between us before she exhales softly. “I keep dreaming about being stuck in that bathroom stall again. It’s… loud. And the stall keeps shrinking in on me until I can’t breathe, and all I hear is screaming and…” She pauses, glancing at me hesitantly. “And gunfire.”

I swallow hard, my chest tightening as I picture it.

Her eyes flick to my ear for just a second before darting away again, like she’s afraid to linger too long.

“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. I wouldn’t wish those nightmares on anyone.

She nods, her lips pressing together, and I take her in for a moment. The glow from the fairy lights makes her eyes glisten, dark pools of something deep and unreadable. And because she was so honest with me, I decide to be honest with her, too.

“I usually dream about you.”

Vada’s brows pull together. “Me?”

I nod. “Mhmm. Every time I have a nightmare, it’s about you getting hurt. And I can’t do anything to stop it. I’m always too late, or I’m frozen in place, forced to watch everything happen.”

Just saying it out loud makes my chest constrict. The helplessness I feel in those dreams, the sheer terror of not being able to reach her in time—it’s suffocating.

Vada looks at me with… understanding. Maybe a little guilt, too, but mostly understanding. Then, after a moment, she hesitantly reaches for my hand.

She’s cautious, like she’s afraid I might pull away.

I don’t.

She laces our fingers together, wordlessly holding onto me, and I squeeze her hand lightly in return.

She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. We’re both hurt. We both still have so much to work through, but we’re going to be okay.

For a few moments, we just lie there, quietly watching each other, hands still linked between us, before a soft knock at the door makes us both sit up and, almost reluctantly, let go.

“Yeah?” Vada calls out.

The door cracks open, and her dad pokes his head inside with a kind smile.

“Hey, you two. Just came to check how things are going—and to see if Y/N wants to stay for dinner? I made pasta.” He pauses, then adds, “With garlic bread.”

Vada turns to me, and I catch the hope in her eyes, like she’s trying not to make a big deal out of it but still wants me to say yes.

I glance between her and her dad, thinking for just a second before nodding. “Yeah. I’d like that. Pasta sounds amazing.”

Vada visibly brightens.

Her dad taps the doorframe. “Great. Come on, then.”

She reaches for my hand only to pull me up this time, making me stumble slightly as she tugs me toward the dining room.

When we step inside, Millie and her mom are already at the table. And, to my surprise, there’s an extra place setting waiting for me like they already knew I was staying.

I have a sneaking suspicion Millie had something to do with that.

She shoots me a grin when she sees me, then nudges her mom under the table like they know something I don’t.

Vada and I sit down next to each other as her dad starts dishing out the pasta, and for the first time in what feels like forever, something inside me settles.

When I get home later that night, my parents are still at the office, but it doesn’t bother me as I make my way to my room. I drop my bag by the foot of my bed, brush my teeth, and wash my face before crawling under the covers, feeling exhausted but content for the first time in a long time.

Dinner was great. The food was good, and we mostly listened to Millie rant about her one teacher who still hasn’t been fired. No one brought up the shooting, and no one mentioned anything weird going on between me and Vada. It was just… normal. Easy.

When I left, I even absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair behind Vada’s ear at the door before quickly pulling back, realizing what I was doing. She didn’t comment on it, just smiled with red cheeks and told me goodbye, watching me drive away until I turned the corner at the end of the street.

I grab my phone to check if my alarm for tomorrow is set, and feel myself smile slightly when I see I’ve got a message from Vada.

Vada <3 (8:57 PM)

i had a great time tonight

thank u for staying for dinner

I get comfortable, turning onto my side before texting back.

You (9:01 PM)

Me too.

Of course, your dad’s cooking was amazing as always.

She sees my message immediately, and I watch the three dots dance at the bottom of my screen before her next message pops up.

Vada <3 (9:02 PM)

ill tell him u said that :)

good night

see u tomorrow

You (9:02 PM)

Yeah, you do that.

See you tomorrow.

Good night :)

I watch my screen for a moment longer, waiting to see if Vada texts something else, but she doesn’t. So I turn my phone off, slide it onto my bedside table, and fall into a dreamless sleep almost instantly.

The next day, I go to school looking forward to seeing Vada again, but I don’t spot her until the end of the day when everyone is either leaving or heading to their respective sports practice. I’m on my way to the locker room when I see her leaning against her locker, talking to someone. I find myself smiling, but as I get closer, I realize who she’s talking to and feel my stomach clench.

Of all the people, she’s talking to Mia.

Mia spots me first, her eyes flashing with recognition over Vada’s shoulder. My pulse jumps, and before I even think about it, I turn down the nearest hallway, taking the long way to the locker room to avoid walking past them.

I don’t know what just happened, but seeing them together brings back a lot of feelings I thought I’d moved past. It’s not even anger, more like a sudden wave of something I don’t know how to name, and I don’t want to stand around figuring it out. I get to the locker room and change without engaging in small talk before heading out to the track earlier than usual.

Coach raises an eyebrow at my sulking, but he doesn’t say anything. When the others finally join us, he sends us off on a few warm-up laps, followed by interval training in pairs. We finish practice with sprints, and by the end, I’m a panting, sweaty mess. I pushed myself harder than necessary, hoping to burn off whatever this feeling is. It leaves me exhausted, but not any clearer in my head.

In the locker room, the team makes plans to grab food, but I tell them I can’t because I have therapy. They nod in understanding, throwing out casual, maybe next time’s and let us know if you change your mind’s, before heading off.

As I walk toward my car, the last person I expect to see is waiting for me.

Mia stands there, arms crossed, shifting on her feet as she glances around, clearly nervous. When her eyes land on me, she straightens, but I can see the hesitation in the way she grips her elbows.

“Mia?” I ask, brows furrowing as I approach.

“Yeah, hi,” she says, forcing a small smile. She’s wearing a crop top and shorts, shivering slightly in the late afternoon breeze. She must have been waiting for a while. “Sorry for waiting around like a creep.”

She chuckles awkwardly, but I don’t return it. I’m too confused, too unsure about how to feel after seeing her with Vada.

“It’s… fine. What do you want?” It comes out harsher than I intended, and Mia flinches.

“I—I just wanted to talk to you,” she says with a grimace. “About Vada.”

Hearing her say Vada’s name sends a fresh bolt of irritation through me, but before I can say anything, she continues.

“I know you know what happened between us,” she says quietly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “And I saw the way you looked earlier, so I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I guess. I know that probably means nothing to you, but I felt like I owed you an apology. What we did—it was unforgivable, and I’m not trying to make excuses, but it didn’t mean anything. For either of us.”

She exhales sharply, shaking her head at herself. “We were drunk and high, and we were both hurting, and it just… happened. As shitty as that sounds, I regret it. I would take it back if I could, but I can’t, so yeah… I just thought you should know.”

I blink, my brain struggling to process what she just said. She must take my silence as disbelief or anger because she quickly adds, “If it bothers you that I talk to Vada, I can stop. No hard feelings at all. I get it.”

“What? No.” I shake my head, adjusting the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Don’t do that—I mean, don’t stop talking to her.”

Mia watches me cautiously as I sigh and drag a hand down my face.

“You were there for Vada when she shut everyone else out. I don’t like what happened, but you seem to understand her, and you’ve been a good friend to her. And honestly? You’ve got some guts coming to me with this. So… I guess what I’m saying is that we’re fine.” I exhale and meet her eyes. “We’re not friends, but I get where you’re coming from, and we’re fine. I appreciate you telling me.”

Now it’s her turn to look stunned. She blinks before nodding slowly. “I—wow. Okay. Thanks.”

I nod and give her a small, tight-lipped smile.

“I guess I’ll see you around then,” she says, hesitating before smiling a little.

“Yeah,” I say, waving her off before getting into my car and heading to therapy.

When I get there, I end up asking to cut the session short because I’m exhausted. Afterward, I drive home, greeting my parents when I find them in the kitchen. They ask what I want for dinner, and when I say I don’t really care, they decide to just order pizza, which is fine with me.

We eat together, and then I head to my room, completely ignoring the pile of unfinished homework on my desk. I climb into bed and fall asleep almost instantly, completely drained from the day.

Blinking at the sliver of sunlight blinding me, I roll over with a groggy sigh and reach for my phone, only to sit up abruptly when I see that it’s almost eleven.

Shit, shit, shit.

I must have forgotten to set an alarm, but when I check, I see that I did. I must have turned it off in my sleep without even realizing it.

It’s Friday, and Vada and I were supposed to present our chemistry project today.

Shit.

I stumble out of bed, literally face-planting on the ground before scrambling back to my feet. Rushing into my bathroom, I turn on the shower and let the water heat up while I grab my clothes. I’m still digging through my closet, trying to find something to wear, when there’s a knock at my door.

“Mom?” I frown, still half-buried in my closet. She should be at work by now. And I should be at school.

What are the chances we both overslept?

“Hey, sweetheart,” she says casually, leaning against the doorframe.

I straighten up, confused. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the office? And why didn’t you wake me if you were home?”

“Calm down,” she says, stepping into the room and placing her hands on my shoulders to still my frantic movements. “I’m not at work because I wanted to be here when you woke up and see if you wanted to go to the beach today.”

I blink at her, caught off guard.

“I heard your alarm going off earlier, and when it wouldn’t stop, I came in and saw you still dead asleep. After how exhausted you looked last night, and hearing from your therapist that you cut your session short, I thought it might be good to give you a day off.”

Some of the panic drains out of me, replaced by reluctant understanding.

“I… Thanks, that’s really nice, but I had a presentation with Vada today, and now I missed it.”

Her face falls, guilt flashing across her features. “Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I just thought—”

“It’s fine,” I cut her off gently. “It’s already too late now.”

The thought of Vada standing at the front of the class, waiting for me to show up, makes my stomach twist. But it’s almost eleven, and school will be over in two hours anyway. I might as well stay home.

“I’m really sorry,” she says again.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair before offering a small smile. “It’s okay.”

She studies me for a moment, then smiles softly. “So… beach?”

I roll my eyes playfully before shrugging. “Actually, could we just chill by the pool today? I’m not in the mood to drive anywhere.”

“Sure,” she says, clearly just happy I’m not upset. “I’ll get started on your breakfast. How do pancakes sound?”

“Great,” I say, my smile growing as I watch her leave.

Once she’s gone, I grab my phone to check my messages, and my stomach sinks when I see a few from Vada. But when I open them, I’m surprised to see she’s not mad—just concerned.

Vada <3 (8:57 AM)

where r u?

are you okay?

class just started

Y/N?

Vada <3 (9:40 AM)

sorry phone got taken away

are u okay?

are u sick? is that why ur not here?

I exhale, relieved that she’s not upset. Quickly towel-drying my hair, I type out a response.

You (10:50 AM)

I’m so sorry, no I’m not sick. My mom gave me the day off since I looked exhausted and apparently slept through my alarm.

Vada replies almost immediately.

Vada <3 (10:51 AM)

oh okay haha

i was just worried for a sec

and don’t worry u didnt miss the presentation we were set to go last and the others didn’t finish theirs on time so we’ll go next class

I sag against my bed in relief.

You (10:52 AM)

Okay, good.

Again, I’m sorry.

Vada <3 (10:52 AM)

i told u its fine <3

just get some rest

I hesitate for a moment, my thumb hovering over the emoji keyboard. I want to text a heart back, but I don’t know if it’s too soon. So I don’t.

Instead, I finish getting dressed, now feeling lighter knowing I didn’t let Vada down too much, and head downstairs, the smell of pancakes already wafting through the air.

The rest of the day is spent lounging by the pool with my mom, just enjoying each other’s company. We share a watermelon for lunch, and it’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in a while. When my dad gets home, he surprises my mom with a bouquet of roses. He asks about our day before mentioning a business dinner he has to attend.

I can tell he’s hesitant to leave since my mom already took the day off, but I suggest she go with him. It sounds like a serious event, and she already missed an entire workday.

They’re reluctant at first, but after I reassure my mom that I had a great time with her and that I’ll be fine for a few hours by myself, she agrees. She heads upstairs to shower and change before the two of them leave, pressing kisses to my cheek on their way out.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m alone in the house without feeling lonely.

I make myself some plain buttered toast for dinner before heading upstairs and flopping onto my bed with my laptop. I scroll through my watchlist, ready to put on a movie, but as I go to start it, my eyes drift to the picture on my bedside table—the one of Vada and me, curled up together in front of the fireplace, caught in a moment of quiet happiness.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I reach for my phone.

You (7:42 PM)

Want to come over?

The second I hit send, my heart pounds a little harder. It’s been building up all week, this need to be around her again. Ever since that dinner at her house, the distance has felt unnecessary—like I’ve been holding myself back for no reason. I don’t need more time. I don’t want any more space.

I just want her.

Her reply comes almost instantly.

Vada <3 (7:43 PM)

omw :)

A smile tugs at my lips as I shove my laptop aside and get up, glancing around my room to make sure it’s not a complete disaster. I pick up a hoodie from the floor and straighten my pillows, but I know Vada won’t care about the mess.

Still, I can’t sit still.

I head downstairs and linger in the kitchen, waiting for her there so I’ll be closer to the front door. She knocks not even ten minutes later, and I hurry to open it, feeling like the breath gets knocked out of me the second I see her.

She doesn’t look any different than usual—wearing an oversized shirt and sweatpants, her hair in a messy bun at the nape of her neck—but somehow, it’s like I’m really seeing her again for the first time in a long time. Even though I saw her just yesterday.

“Hi,” I say, suddenly breathless, which makes her laugh nervously.

“Hey,” she replies, and I quickly move aside to let her in, my heart fluttering when she brushes past me, leaving a faint trace of her sweet perfume in the air.

She toes off her shoes and turns back to me with a soft smile, but it shifts into something a little more confused when she notices my unwavering attention on her.

“What—”

“I missed you,” I blurt out before she can finish, and she lets out a surprised, breathy laugh.

“We saw each other two days ago,” she teases, but I shake my head.

“No, I mean… I missed you. I miss us,” I say. Now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. The words pour out like they’ve been waiting for this moment. “I miss how effortlessly affectionate you used to be. How you’d just touch me or kiss me whenever you felt like it, without worrying about how I might react. I miss your smile, your laugh, holding you close at night and feeling your breath against my neck. You hurt me—a lot—but… I just miss you so fucking much. Without you, I feel empty, and I can’t keep going on like this. I want you back in my life. I want to kiss you again, hold your hand, take you on stupid little dates.”

At some point, I realize I’m tearing up, staring at the floor instead of at her, but when I finally lift my gaze, she’s already looking at me. Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, her lips curved into the softest smile.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers.

And before I can react, she throws her arms around my neck in a bone-crushing hug.

“I missed you too,” she repeats, chuckling when she adds, “so fucking much.”

I let out a choked laugh of my own, wrapping my arms around her waist before, without thinking, scooping her up to balance out the height difference. She lets out a surprised squeak but immediately tightens her hold on me, wrapping her legs around my waist.

She squeezes me tighter, and I feel the damp warmth of her tears against my neck before she pulls back. Her hands cup my face gently as her tear-stained eyes drink me in like she’s afraid I might disappear.

She brushes the wetness from my cheeks, her fingers tracing over my skin before one hand shifts to cradle my jaw, her thumb resting against my chin. “I love you,” she says after a moment, her voice thick with emotion.

Another tear slips down my face, and I close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “I love you too,” I whisper.

When I open my eyes again, she’s already looking at my lips.

“Can I… Can I kiss you?” she asks, barely audible.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before nodding, my other arm still wrapped securely around her.

She exhales softly, resting her forehead against mine for a beat, then finally closes the distance between us.

Her lips are warm and soft, the kiss sending sparks through my whole body. I kiss her back without hesitation, eyes fluttering shut as I melt into her. Slowly, carefully, she deepens it, her hands slipping to the back of my neck to pull me closer. I squeeze the backs of her thighs, grounding myself in the feel of her, and a quiet, appreciative hum slips past her lips.

When we’re both breathless, she pulls back just enough to nudge her nose against mine, making us both laugh softly.

Then, before I can even fully catch my breath, she kisses me again.

And again.

My head spins, my chest aches with something deep and overwhelming, but for the first time in weeks, I don’t feel empty anymore.

Yeah. We’re definitely going to be alright.

_______________________________________________

Holy moly, guys. This is almost 16k words long... I think it's longer than anything I've ever written.

It was a lot of fun to write though. Reader and Vada really deserved their happy ending after how the first part ended.

I can feel myself burning out though, and writer's block has made it difficult to finish this, so I will probably be taking a break from writing again.

I don't know how long yet, but I need some time to recharge my creative battery after this.

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend and wish you a great week ahead.

All the love,

Soph <3

#x reader #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader #the fallout #vada cavell x y/n

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tortillamastersblog · 1 month ago

Text

Just A Nobody - Part 5 | Mabel

Pairing: Mabel x reader

Warnings: mentions of substance abuse and addiction, swearing, some LIGHT smut (Idk if you can even call it that tbh, but I thought I’d include it in case it makes some of you uncomfortable…)

Summary: You never wanted to return to New Bedford, but when your dad relapses, you’re forced to go back for the summer and work to earn some money to pay for his rehab.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

“So…” Mabel hands me a cup of tea and takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to me. She doesn’t have a couch, so sitting on the bed is the only option. “What happened?”

Until now, she hasn’t really said much. All she did after leading me up the stairs was tell me to sit while she made some tea. She also asked what kind I wanted, and when I said I didn’t really care, she settled on cinnamon and mint, which is now steaming in the mug in my hands. It smells nice and comforting, but it’s still too hot to drink, and I have yet to answer her question.

She doesn’t have a tea herself. She’s just sitting next to me, shoulders hunched, hands buried in her lap, looking at me with curious and concerned eyes.

Her attention is almost too much to bear. After everything that’s happened between us, it still makes me nervous, so I avert my eyes and watch the steam rise from my tea.

“What didn’t happen?” I snap miserably.

Mabel tenses, and when I lift my eyes again, I see a frown pulling at her lips. I quickly apologize for being so brusque.

“It’s okay,” she reassures me, but she buries her hands even deeper in her lap and looks away for a moment.

Shit.

“No, I—” I sigh. “It’s not. I just… Tom thought it would be a good idea to fish in Canadian waters, and we got caught.”

That makes Mabel look back up, surprise written all over her face. “What?”

I tighten my grip on my tea and nod solemnly. “Yeah… That’s why I’m back early,” I continue quietly. “The boat was impounded, and now I don’t know what happens next. We might have to pay a fine, and I— I can’t afford to pitch in.”

“But you’ve been working ever since you got here,” she says, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s got to be a couple hundred dollars already, right? Or what kind of fine are we talking about?”

I set the tea down—it’s still too hot to drink—and shift a little in my seat to face Mabel more directly. “I don’t know, honestly, but the money I’ve made so far…” I trail off and wring my hands together.

I need it to pay for my dad’s rehab.

I glance at Mabel, wondering whether I should tell her.

She’s looking at me with so much compassion that it makes me drop all my defenses. I sigh and go on, “I need the money for my dad’s rehab. He relapsed a couple of weeks ago after being sober for four years and—” I look away, clenching my hands into fists. “He lost his job, and now it’s up to me to make sure he gets the help he needs.”

It’s quiet for a moment, and I wonder if it was a mistake to tell Mabel about the shit show my life has become. But then she takes my hands and gently uncurls them, her touch soft and soothing, coaxing me to look at her. The understanding in her dark eyes when I meet them with my own is almost too much, making a lump form in my throat.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and I can tell she means it. “But… what about your mom?”

I swallow thickly and shrug helplessly, feeling like a little kid. “It’s just me and my dad. My mom left when I was ten.”

Mabel hums in understanding, and it’s quiet for another heartbeat or two before she speaks up again. “My dad also left when I was little. He… well, he couldn’t deal with my mom and her business anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, echoing her sentiment and squeezing her hands, which makes her shoot me a sad smile.

“Yeah, me too.” She moves closer so our thighs touch, absentmindedly tracing her thumb over the back of my hand. “It’s— It’s why I want to get out of here. I want to leave all of this shit behind. I don’t… I don’t want to be a part of her world. I don’t want this—” she gestures around at her small apartment. “I want more, and I know I can get more. I just— I need to find a way out first. That’s why I want to go to college.”

The rawness and underlying anger in her voice make me feel for her. I tug on her hands to get her to look up for a second. “I get it. I’ve been there too, which is why I’m going to help you write the best application essay that admissions committee has ever gotten their hands on.”

A small smile tugs at Mabel’s lips. She lets go of one of my hands for a moment to trace her finger along the underside of my jaw, making me shiver slightly. “Thank you. And I’m sure everything will work out just fine for you.”

A smile of my own makes her eyes twinkle with affection, and I mumble a “Yeah, we’ll see,” before her hand travels from my jaw to the back of my neck.

She pulls me down a little, her eyes darting between my lips and eyes for a moment, so I close the distance between us, kissing her softly.

It’s not rushed like last time, just a kiss filled with mutual understanding and affection. When I eventually pull back, she rests her forehead against mine, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck.

“You know, I wasn’t supposed to be here for the summer at all,” I admit after another beat of silence.

Mabel hums for me to continue, and my breath hitches for a moment when I feel her breath on my cheek.

“I had this internship in New York over the summer, but I had to cancel because of my dad,” I say quietly. “But if I’d gone to New York, I wouldn’t have met you. I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. I’m… I’m glad I met you.”

I pull back completely, watching as her eyes flutter open. She looks deep in thought, a little serious as she watches me for a moment before quietly admitting, “I’m glad I met you, too.”

We stay like that for a moment before she leans back up, cupping my face in her hands and kissing me with renewed hunger. My hands pull her closer by her hips until she’s almost straddling my lap, but then my stomach grumbles, and she pulls back with a soft chuckle.

“Hungry?” she asks quietly.

Even though I want to say no—because kissing her is too addictive—I agree a moment later when my stomach grumbles again.

Mabel smiles again, this time with a hint of amusement, and pecks my lips before getting up. “Okay then. I haven’t eaten either, but I don’t have much to work with. How does pesto pasta sound?”

“Heavenly,” I joke, which makes her laugh as I get up to help her cook, my tea at the bottom of the bed long forgotten.

After cooking and eating together, I make Mabel step back when I start on the dishes, insisting she read me what she’s written for her application essay instead. Over dinner, she admitted that she actually wrote something this time, so while I scrub the pot we used for the pasta, she grabs her laptop from her desk and starts it up.

She sits on her bed with her legs crossed, laptop resting in her lap, and finally starts reading.

At first, I let her read the whole thing while I continue doing the dishes. Once I finish drying everything, I join her on the bed and point out a few things she should change.

I help her rephrase some sentences and suggest adding more detail to her backstory until I feel my eyes drooping with exhaustion.

The rhythmic clacking of her nails on the keyboard almost lulls me to sleep, and when she asks me a question a moment later, all I manage is a tired hum. She looks away from the screen and smiles softly.

“Let’s continue this tomorrow. You’re tired,” she says.

That snaps me back to attention.

“What? No, keep going.” I clear my throat and blink rapidly, but it does nothing to shake the exhaustion that’s been creeping up on me after days of fishing.

“No, it’s fine.” Mabel shuts her laptop and places it on the nightstand before turning back and lying down next to me.

At some point while she was typing, I had gradually gotten more comfortable, my head nearly resting on her lap as I read what she wrote.

“Do you want to stay the night?” she asks, reaching out to trace the curve of my brow before letting her finger slide down my cheek, resting at the corner of my lips.

I’m about to say no, but then I remember the mess waiting for me at home. Instead, I sink further into the bed and nod, closing my eyes at the feeling of her touch. “Yes, please, if that’s okay with you.”

Mabel exhales sharply through her nose—not quite a laugh, not quite a snort—before saying, “I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”

I open my eyes again and smile sleepily, but she pulls me off the bed and into the bathroom before I can get too comfortable. She doesn’t turn on the light, sparing us both from being blinded, and rummages around under the sink before pulling out a new toothbrush with a sheepish smile.

I thank her quietly, my stomach fluttering at the thought that she went out of her way to buy me a toothbrush, maybe hoping I’d stay again. We brush our teeth next to each other in the darkness.

When we’re done, I take out my contacts, making Mabel squirm as she watches. I toss them in the trash, knowing I won’t be able to reuse them since I don’t have my storage case or solution with me. It’s fine, though—I have a spare pair of glasses in the glove compartment of the truck for the morning.

“Okay?” Mabel asks when I’m done.

I nod and follow her back into the main part of the apartment, where she turns off the lights and shuts the curtains. As she does, I strip out of my jeans and slip into bed.

Mabel follows a moment later, and I have to stop myself from grinning like an idiot when she snuggles up to me in the dark, her head landing on my chest while her hand slips under my shirt, resting on my stomach.

“Good night,” she mumbles.

“Good night,” I whisper, hesitating only a moment before pressing a kiss to the top of her head and running my hand up and down her back.

I have no idea what time it is. Mabel’s curtains do a good job of blocking out any light, so I carefully reach for my phone on the nightstand, making sure not to wake her. She’s still curled up against me, her head resting on my chest.

My screen lights up in the darkness, making me squint. I blink a few times until my vision adjusts—or as much as it can without my glasses. Everything is still a little blurry.

7:40 AM.

I’m about to set my phone back down and go back to sleep when a text from Dan catches my attention. Bringing the screen closer to my face, I read what he’s written.

Dan (7:23 AM) Hey, kid. I heard what happened. Are you okay? If you need to talk, just call me. Or if you want a distraction, come by the café or the shop and work for a bit. Like I said, the job’s yours as long as you want it.

I frown slightly at the fact that news of what happened has already spread around town, but at the same time, I’m grateful that Dan isn’t giving me a hard time over it. He knows it wasn’t my fault, and I’m just thankful he’s still offering me my jobs.

There’s also a text from Karen, basically saying the same thing and I quickly reply to both of them, letting them know I’ll be at work as soon as possible.

I’m in the middle of texting Charlie to ask for any updates about the boat a moment later when Mabel starts stirring on my chest.

Quickly, I turn off my phone to keep the light from blinding her and sling my arm around her waist, making her hum softly.

“Everything okay?” she asks groggily, snuggling closer.

“Mhmm. Everything’s fine. Sorry if I woke you.”

“’S okay,” she murmurs, inhaling deeply before exhaling against my skin. She shifts slightly, draping one of her legs across my hips before pressing a kiss to my throat.

“You can go back to sleep,” I offer, rubbing my thumb over her side where her shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing a sliver of warm skin.

She shakes her head and raises a hand to rub at her eyes. “No, I’m okay. Once I’m awake, I can’t fall back asleep,” she says around a yawn, then adds, “but I’m not getting up yet. You’re too comfortable.”

I let out a quiet huff of amusement and let the silence settle over us again before mumbling against the top of her head, “Thanks for last night. And for letting me stay over.”

“You’re welcome,” she says softly, lifting her head so her chin rests on my chest. In the dim light, her eyes find mine, studying me with that familiar curiosity.

She taps her finger against my chin before leaning up to peck my lips, then settles back down, still watching me.

“Hey… I was thinking while I was gone,” I start quietly, “and I was wondering if you’d like to go on that date you mentioned before I left. Now that I’m back, I mean.”

A shy smirk plays on Mabel’s face as she tilts her head, teasing, “That depends. What did you have in mind?”

I raise an eyebrow, still sometimes caught off guard by her dry humor. “Well—” I run my hand from her waist up her back, brushing a few strands of hair behind her ear where they’ve escaped her ponytail. “I was thinking of a picnic on the beach, but I don’t know. We can do something else. That’s probably dumb.”

Mabel chuckles softly and shakes her head. “No, I like it. Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” My stomach swoops pleasantly.

“Mhmm.” She pushes herself up so she’s straddling my lap, then tugs at my shoulders, prompting me to sit up. I do, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“Okay then. How about tomorrow afternoon? The weather’s supposed to be nice,” I suggest.

She nods. “Sounds good.” A mischievous smile tugs at her lips before she leans in to kiss me softly.

I pull back before she can deepen it, making her whine. “Morning breath,” I say with a smirk.

She tries to kiss me again to prove she doesn’t care, but I dodge her, earning an exaggerated groan. Laughing, I shake my head and scoot to the edge of the bed, still holding her in my lap. “Just let me brush my teeth first.”

She frowns but grumbles, “Fine,” before sliding off my lap and following me into the bathroom.

We brush our teeth in silence, and as soon as we’re done, she flicks on the light.

I squint at the brightness, but before I can adjust, she grabs me by the front of my shirt and pulls me into a searing kiss.

It makes my skin tingle, like every nerve is on fire, but my eyes fly open when she walks us backward until my back meets the shower wall.

I open my mouth to question what she’s doing, but she shushes me with another kiss, reaching over to turn on the water.

Almost immediately, we’re drenched, and I laugh into the kiss.

Mabel pulls back, laughing too, before stripping off her shirt and pressing her body against mine again.

The rest of our clothes follow soon after, and as the steam rises, I spin us around, pressing her back against the cold tile.

She gasps at the sensation, but before she can say anything, I capture her lips again, swallowing the moan that escapes when I lift her into my arms.

“You don’t have to be so—Ah—gentle,” she pants a few moments later which makes me halt all my movements and disconnect my lips from her neck.

“Oh?” I tease, making her already flushed cheeks even redder.

“S-shut up,” she stutters weakly. She goes to say something else, but I start moving again before she can, making her eyes roll back and her jaw drop.

I smile smugly, and admire her for a moment, watching a drop of water run down her chest before leaning back in and nipping at her throat while her nails dig into the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

Her skin is hot against mine, and I do as I’m told, no longer being as gentle as before, until her body shudders in my arms and she comes with a broken cry.

“Fuck.” She gasps as we both catch our breath, resting her forehead against mine. Her fingers tangle in the hair at the back of my neck, and when I chuckle softly, she smiles too, nudging her nose against mine before pressing a few light kisses to my lips.

“Are you okay?” I ask, carefully setting her back down while keeping my arms around her in case her knees give out.

She hums, closing her eyes for a moment, her arms still wrapped around my neck and a satisfied smile playing on her lips. “Better than okay,” she says quietly, making me chuckle as I run my hands up and down her back to help her settle even more.

“You?” she asks, meeting my gaze, her eyes filled with adoration.

“Mhmm… same,” I admit, my own knees still a little weak.

“Good.” She chuckles breathlessly before moving closer, resting her head against my chest while the water continues to run over us.

I trace lazy shapes on her back until she eventually pulls away, and we actually shower, giving each other soap beards and mohawks until we’re both squeaky clean.

When we get out, Mabel opens the curtains and dresses in a pair of shorts and a simple shirt while I reluctantly pull on my clothes from last night.

She smiles apologetically, clearly noticing my hesitation, but there isn’t much she can do. She’s much smaller than me, so borrowing any of her clothes isn’t an option. My old ones will have to do, even though I just showered and my shirt is still a little damp.

I’ll change as soon as I get back home.

Home. Right…

The events of last night creep back into my mind, and my heart sinks slightly, but Mabel pulls me out of my thoughts by asking if I want some coffee and toast with jam.

“Yes, please,” I say, finishing getting dressed before helping her with breakfast and making the bed.

“So, what are you going to do today?” she asks around a mouthful of toast once we’re seated at her small dining table in the corner.

“There’s not much I can do about the boat situation since I don’t have any updates, so I’ll just go to work at the café or the shop, earn some more money, and maybe try to get ahead of the fine that’s coming our way,” I say, taking a sip of coffee. “What about you?”

Mabel shrugs. “I have to get some groceries and stop by my mom’s to pick up the money she still owes me, but after that, I’ll probably keep working on my essay.”

I nod encouragingly, and we spend the rest of breakfast in comfortable silence.

When we’re done, I help her with the dishes before texting Karen to see if I can swing by the café in about half an hour.

She texts back almost immediately with a sure, so I thank Mabel again for letting me stay before heading to the door to slip on my shoes.

“Well… see you tomorrow then?” I ask awkwardly, which makes her smile fondly as she watches me put them on.

“Definitely,” she says, cupping my cheeks after I get back up and pulling me down for one last kiss before sending me on my way.

I leave feeling lighter than I have in days, but the feeling fades as soon as I reach my dad’s truck.

I don’t know what to expect when I get home, but I know it won’t be good. Tightening my grip on the steering wheel, I put on my spare glasses, start the engine, and drive home.

_______________________________________________

Whew, I wrote this in one sitting.

Anyway, Reader finally caught a break, but things will get worse after this before getting better…

Tag list: @idontliketoread2137

#x reader #fluff #mabel x reader #mabel black label #mabel finestkind

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tortillamastersblog · 1 month ago

Note

When’s the next pay of Just a Nobody?

I haven’t started writing it yet, but I’m planning on getting it out by Sunday (at the latest) 🤞

#anon ask

0 notes

tortillamastersblog · 1 month ago

Note

pt 2 of rock bottom? that shi broke me😞😞😞

I wasn’t planning on it, but sure ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

#anon ask

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tortillamastersblog · 1 month ago

Text

Rock Bottom | Vada Cavell

Pairing: Vada Cavell x reader

Warnings: school shooting, mentions of gunshot wounds, PTSD, nightmares, ANGST

Summary: After getting hurt in the shooting, you try to recover while also taking care of Vada, but she pushes you away until you can’t take it anymore.

Next Part | Masterlist

_______________________________________________

I kill the engine of my motorcycle as soon as I pull into a parking spot right in front of the school and take off my helmet, running my fingers through my hair.

I’m a little later than usual, but I’m still on time, so it’s fine. I get off my bike and move to follow the stream of students trickling into the school, but I stop a second later when I hear a familiar laugh.

A smile immediately blooms on my face as I turn around to see Nick and Vada goofing around with Starbucks cups in their hands, making their way toward the school.

“And then when you—” she hops and makes a fart noise with her mouth, “—it could be, like, you’re texting your boss.”

Confused, I frown slightly, wondering what in the world they could possibly be talking about, but I don’t stop smiling. They’re always like this, talking about the most random shit.

“Yeah! Texting your boss,” Nick agrees, flicking some of his shiny hair out of his face. “I love it. We love it.”

“Gotta keep it fancy.” Vada giggles, and then her eyes land on me. She skips over with a bright smile. “Hey!”

“Hi! Good morning. You seem to be in a good mood,” I observe, closing my eyes for a second as she pulls me down by the collar of my shirt to peck my lips.

“Mhmm. We went to Starbucks!” she beams, lifting her half-empty iced coffee for emphasis.

I laugh softly and smile at Nick when he joins us. “I can see that.”

“You want some?” she asks. I nod, taking her cup and sipping from it. It’s a little sweeter than I usually prefer my coffee, but it’s still good, so I take another sip before handing it back.

“We also got some cake pops, but we already ate them in the car,” she adds with an apologetic smile. I just shrug it off and take her free hand, lacing our fingers together.

“It’s fine. Were they at least any good?” I ask as the three of us walk into the school just as the first bell rings.

Nick nods and rolls his eyes dramatically. “So good.”

I laugh softly and shake my head fondly as we quickly make our way to our lockers, grabbing our things before heading to class.

Nick has math first, while Vada and I have geography, so we split at the stairs—Nick whining playfully at the prospect of leaving us, while Vada waves him off before grabbing onto my arm and leaning against me as we walk to class.

“What are you doing tonight?” she asks, looking up at me with sparkling eyes after taking another sip of coffee. It’s honestly adorable how short she is, especially in the baggy clothes she always wears.

I shrug. “My parents have date night, so not much. Why?”

“Well…” She squeezes my arm and stops right in front of our classroom, forcing a couple of students to grumble as they move around us to get inside. “My dad’s making lasagna, and he was wondering if you wanted to come over again.”

“Your dad wants me to come over?” I smile teasingly and brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, yeah. And me too, of course. And Millie… and my mom. They all kind of love you ever since you stayed with us for Christmas,” she says, amusement and a hint of embarrassment dancing in her eyes, which makes me chuckle.

It’s true. Ever since Christmas, which I spent with them while my parents were away in Shanghai for a meeting at their law firm, they’ve loved having me around. Millie keeps texting me about the camera stand I got her so she can film her YouTube videos, and both Mr. and Mrs. Cavell keep thanking me for the basketball season tickets I got them through my parents' firm.

“In that case, how could I possibly refuse?” I press a chaste kiss to her hairline. “But I have practice after school, so I won’t be able to come over right away.”

“That’s fine.” She beams and touches my chin fondly before the tardy bell forces us to move and step into the classroom.

We find two empty seats at the front of the room and pull out our things while Ms. Foster tells the other students to settle down.

The lesson begins, and even though I listen and take notes, I keep stealing glances at Vada. I love the way her eyes shine with curiosity as she listens, and I love it even more when she asks questions I never would have thought of. She’s so smart and funny, and it’s honestly a mystery how she ended up with me.

The first time we talked was two years ago when she ran into me in the cafeteria, making me spill my juice all over myself. After that, we made small talk in the hallway until we were paired for a chemistry project. By the end of it, I somehow found the courage to ask her out, even though I almost had a nervous breakdown because of it, and she said yes. Now, we have been together for over a year and a half.

She always comes to my track meets, and I always go to Barnes & Noble with her, carrying her books while she browses the shelves. Of course, we do other things too, like cooking together or going bowling with our friends, but what matters most is that we show up for each other.

Vada’s phone buzzing on her table snaps me out of my thoughts. I glance at her when it buzzes again, and she looks at the screen with a frown.

“Everything okay?” I ask quietly.

She looks up and shakes her head before turning her phone toward me.

Millie (8:49 AM)

911

Call me.

I frown too and tilt my head toward the door, silently telling her to go and call her. She nods and raises her hand, waiting for Ms. Foster to notice before asking to go to the bathroom. As she leaves, she throws one last look in my direction.

I shoot her an encouraging smile and watch her go, hoping Millie is okay before trying to focus back on the lesson.

It’s adorable how well the two of them get along, and it’s clear how much Millie looks up to Vada. Sometimes, I wish I had siblings, but then again, I’m over at the Cavells’ so often that Millie is basically my sister too. She constantly ropes me into helping her film YouTube videos or makes me take her to Starbucks. She’s a cute kid, and Vada loves her, so I love her too.

A couple of minutes pass, and I start to wonder why Vada has been gone so long. But before I can dwell on it any further, the door flies open.

And then all hell breaks loose.

I flinch as the sting of antiseptic sears through my ear, sending pain shooting down my neck and across the entire left side of my face.

What’s going on?

I blink rapidly, only now realizing that I’m no longer at school.

Where am I?

There’s beeping. Voices shouting. The sterile scent of antiseptic mixing with the sharp, metallic tang of blood.

I’m in a hospital.

I’m in the hospital.

How—Why—I don’t—

“Darling, oh my God!”

My mother’s voice pulls me from the haze, and I barely register the nurse who was just standing beside me as she steps back, pulling off her gloves.

Then my parents rush to my side—deathly pale, horror-stricken, still in their office clothes, so starkly different from the scrubs around them.

“Are you—Are you okay?” My dad’s voice shakes as he cups my face, his fingers trembling against my cheek as he inspects the bandage wrapped around my head.

My mom grabs my limp hands, squeezing them between hers. Her grip is so tight, it almost hurts.

“I don’t…” I trail off, suddenly dizzy, lightheaded.

Only now do I realize that my left ear is ringing. A sharp, relentless whine.

I swallow dryly, my throat thick. My mind is blank, disoriented. I don’t understand how I got here.

“What happened?” I whisper.

My parents share a look, silent but heavy with concern, before my mom finally speaks, her voice wavering. “There was a shooting, darling. You… You were… your ear.”

My ear?

I pull my hand free from hers and raise it to my left ear.

The moment I touch the bandage, pain jolts through me like a live wire. And then suddenly—

The door flies open.

There’s a loud bang.

It feels like someone punched me in the side of my head

I fall to the floor.

My ears are ringing.

Something hot and sticky drips down the side of my neck.

“Sweetheart?”

I flinch and my eyes snap open. My parents are staring at me, their faces wet with tears.

“You’ve been shot,” my dad says, his voice breaking. “That bastard… He— you—”

He chokes on a sob, and my mom’s grip on my hands tightens as tear slips down her cheek.

Shot.

I’ve been shot.

There was a shooting.

My mind is racing, but at the same time, it feels like I can’t think at all. It’s like my brain is fogged up, refusing to process what happened.

No matter how hard I try to remember, I can’t.

“What?” My voice sounds distant to my own ears, but my dad repeats himself, telling me there’s been a shooting and that I almost died.

I almost died.

A lot of others did die.

No, that can’t be. That can’t—

“Vada,” I breathe, suddenly remembering how she looked back at me right before leaving the classroom. “Where’s Vada? Is she okay? Is she okay?!”

I go to stand up, but my mom immediately presses a hand to my shoulder, keeping me down.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as she says something, but nothing really registers until I finally catch:

“…talked to her mom… she’s fine. She’s at home and she’s fine.”

Fine.

She’s fine.

I need to see her.

I need to see her now.

“I— I need to see her,” I say, my breath coming too fast, my ear throbbing in sync with my pulse. “I need to— I need to—”

“Alright.” My dad’s hand lands on my knee, grounding me just enough to meet his gaze. “We’ll go see her, but first, we need to get you discharged.”

I nod frantically, my chest tightening.

There was a shooting. I’ve been shot. I almost died.

But Vada is fine.

She’s fine.

After what feels like forever, the same nurse who stitched me up returns. She hands my parents discharge papers and gives them a bottle of painkillers to take home.

She instructs them on how to look for signs of infection and warns that I might have temporary tinnitus in my left ear, but that it should go away once the shock wears off.

Then she sends us on our way.

Outside, my parents help me toward the car, and my mom makes me pull on a clean shirt from my gym bag before we drive off to Vada’s.

The car feels too small, too quiet, and too loud all at once.

My parents keep talking, their voices muffled, like I’m hearing them through a wall.

“Does your ear hurt? The nurse said you should take something when we get home.”

“We still need to call your uncle—he’s been trying to reach us since he saw the news.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

I stare out the window, watching buildings blur past. I don’t want to answer. I don’t want to think about the last thing I remember.

I vaguely hum in response, not sure which question I’m even answering.

“Honey?” My mom reaches behind her from the passenger seat and squeezes my knee gently.

“I’m fine,” I mutter.

They don’t press, but I feel their worried glances through the rearview mirror.

Then, finally, we pull onto the Cavells’ street.

Before the car even fully stops, I take off my seatbelt and push the door open.

“Slow down!” My dad shouts as I stumble out of the car, my legs unsteady beneath me.

“Sweetheart, wait!” My mom’s voice follows, but I barely hear them.

All I can focus on is Vada.

I half-stumble, half-run toward the front door, my breath coming hard and fast.

She’s fine, they said.

But I need to see for myself.

I reach the porch and bang on the door, my hands shaking.

"Y/N," Vada's mom breathes when she opens the door. “Oh, God.”

She pulls me into a hug and I let her despite my burning need to see Vada.

“Are you— Do you— How are you feeling?” she stammers.

“I’m okay,” I croak. “I just— Vada…”

She pulls back and cups my cheeks for a moment, looking me over with tears in her eyes. “Of course,” she sniffles. “Go.”

"Thank you," I whisper, slipping past her just as my parents reach the front door.

Being close with Vada’s parents, they immediately pull each other into silent, grief-stricken hugs, murmuring about what happened.

I don’t stop. I can’t stop.

I single-mindedly make my way to Vada’s room, so focused on reaching her that I don’t notice the bathroom door swinging open next to me until I stumble straight into Millie.

“S-Sorry,” I stammer, my chest tightening when I see the way her eyes widen at the sight of me.

"Y/N…” she breathes, her gaze darting to the bandage wrapped around my head.

Before I can react, she throws her arms around my waist, holding on tight.

"I'm okay," I say automatically even though I'm really not. Not even close. But I don’t know how to feel right now. I just need to see Vada.

Millie nods against my chest, still clinging to me, before slowly pulling back. She watches me, searching for some kind of reaction or reassurance, so I force a small smile and pull her in for another hug, holding her just a little longer this time.

"I promise I'm okay," I murmur, even though it feels like a lie. How's...How's Vada?"

Millie exhales shakily, shifting on her feet. "I don’t know," she admits. "She’s… quiet. She just took a bath. I’ve never seen her like this, Y/N."

The burn in my chest deepens.

I need to see her.

I nod, and luckily, Millie seems to understand.

She sighs, then steps aside and whispers, "Just go. See for yourself."

I murmur a quiet, "Thank you," and move past her, hearing our parents still murmuring in the living room as I finally reach Vada's door.

I raise my hand, knocking softly before carefully pushing it open.

The room is dimly lit by the fairy lights strung behind the headboard of the bed, their soft glow casting warm shadows along the walls, and a candle flickers on her desk, the scent faint but lingering.

But it’s quiet.

Too quiet.

Vada always listens to music whenever she can, but now… there’s nothing.

Just silence.

Awful, suffocating silence.

My heart tightens when I finally spot her. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, her back turned to me, wrapped only in a towel.

Her hair is twisted up into a messy bun, probably to keep it dry during her bath, but a few damp strands cling to the back of her neck. As I step closer, I notice the goosebumps along her bare skin.

“Vada?” My voice is quiet because I don't want to startle her, but she flinches anyway, her shoulders jerking slightly. She doesn’t turn around though.

I move closer, walking around the bed until I’m kneeling in front of her.

She's staring at the wall with a vacant look in her eyes. It scares me, so I slowly reach out, brushing my fingers against her knee. The warmth of my touch seems to pull her back, and her gaze shifts until she finally sees me.

Recognition floods her expression, but she still doesn’t say anything.

Her eyes flicker to the bandage around my head and to my left ear, and she stares at it for a long moment before her lips part in a silent gasp.

Her eyes fill with tears and she whimpers, and before I can react, a sob tears out of her.

It racks her entire body, her shoulders trembling violently as she breaks and I rise immediately, pulling her into my chest, my arms wrapping tightly around her as she cries quietly.

I press a kiss to the top of her head and blink rapidly when my own eyes start to sting.

I can’t believe what happened.

I can’t believe we’re here right now. We should be at school!

I hold Vada against me, feeling her clutch at my shirt and pulling me closer.

But then, she shivers, and I pull back, looking down to see that her lips are turning slightly blue.

She’s freezing.

“Let’s get you dressed, my love,” I whisper, cupping her face and pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She doesn’t argue as I carefully untangle her arms from around me. I turn toward her closet, rummaging through it with one hand while pressing the other against my temple as my ear throbs.

A wave of dizziness hits me, but I push through it, focusing on her instead.

I settle on a pair of faded gray sweatpants and one of my shirts she stole ages ago before turning back around and pulling her to her feet, her movements slow and unsteady.

“Okay?” I ask gently, giving her towel a soft tug.

She nods, barely, the vacant look in her eyes returning. It makes my stomach turn, but I exhale softly and undo the towel, helping her into the warm clothes as quickly as possible.

Once she’s dressed, I wrap my arms around her again, burying my face in her hair as I let out a shaky breath.

She’s okay.

For a moment, we stand there in the middle of her room, wrapped in silence. Then, I gently guide her into bed and move the covers over us.

She doesn’t resist. Instead, she turns onto her side, pressing her back against my chest as I sling my arm around her waist, holding her close.

Then she laces our fingers together, pulling my hand up until it’s tucked under her chin before scooting back even more until there’s literally no space left between us.

She sniffs once, a final exhale escaping her lips and then her breathing evens out.

She’s asleep. She's okay and she's asleep.

I feel my own eyelids drooping as I try to stay awake after everything that’s happened, wanting to make sure she’s really okay. But exhaustion and the aftereffects of shock get the better of me, and before I know it, I fall asleep as well.

I jolt awake when Vada sits up with a strangled cry, her breath coming fast and uneven as she looks around frantically.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I sit up too, though much slower than she did, and wrap my arms around her from behind, pulling her close. I press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “You’re okay.”

She nods slowly, her breathing still ragged, but she closes her eyes and grips my forearms tightly where they rest around her stomach.

All night, she had nightmares. It broke my heart, but it also meant I barely got any sleep myself. I tried to stay awake as much as I could, watching over her so I’d be there when she woke up, but in between, I fell into a light, restless sleep.

I didn’t dream, which is probably why I didn’t have any nightmares.

Now, though, I’m exhausted, and my ear hurts worse than ever.

Vada prefers sleeping on her left side, which meant I had to sleep on mine too while holding her. Lying on my injured ear for hours must have irritated it, because now the pain is so intense, I can barely feel the left side of my face.

Even blinking makes my eye ache.

But I don’t move to grab the painkillers my parents left for me last night.

They had peeked into the room about an hour after Vada first fell asleep, quietly waking me to ask if I wanted to go home. I just shook my head and held Vada tighter.

They were hesitant to leave me at first, but then Vada’s mom stepped into the room.

She looked almost relieved when she saw Vada curled up against me. She reassured my parents that it would be okay if I stayed the night, and they finally left after she told me to come get her if I needed anything.

Vada slept through the entire conversation, which made me relax a little.

But two hours later, just as I finally drifted into another light sleep, she had her first nightmare.

“It’s okay,” I whisper again, pressing a kiss to her temple and rubbing my thumbs over her stomach. “It was just a dream.”

Vada shudders and slowly turns around in my arms. The dim morning light seeps into the room through her giant windows, casting long, golden streaks across the floor.

It looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.

How ironic.

“I know, it’s just…” she trails off, her gaze darting to my ear.

She frowns, then raises a hand to my jaw and gently tilts my head to the right, studying whatever she just saw.

“Your ear,” she rasps.

I lift a hand to touch it, but the second my fingers graze the bandage, a sharp electric pain shoots through my face, making me flinch hard.

I hiss and pull my hand back, screwing my eyes shut as I try to push the pain away.

“It’s bleeding,” she says.

Before I can react, she pulls me out of bed and leads me into the bathroom, telling me to sit on the edge of the tub.

I want to protest, to tell her the nurse said some bleeding is normal, but she’s out the door before I can say anything.

As soon as she’s gone, exhaustion washes over me again, and the dizziness returns full force.

I want to check the mirror, to see what she saw, but I’m too tired, so I stay seated and wait.

I wait only a minute before Vada returns with her mom, still dressed in pajamas. Her short blonde hair is tied back into a tiny ponytail, and she wears her glasses, blinking sleepily as she steps into the bathroom.

“Oh, that doesn’t look good at all,” she murmurs when she sees me. She brushes some hair out of my face fondly before asking if she can take off the bandage to check my ear.

I nod, too tired to speak, and let her unwrap the bandage while Vada stands back, arms wrapped around herself in a tight hug, her gaze distant and unfocused.

Even though her mom is careful, I grit my teeth when she pulls the gauze away.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” she says softly.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, though my stomach sinks when I see the blood-soaked bandage as she tosses it into the trash can beside the bathtub.

She turns my head slightly, inspecting the wound before clicking her tongue and pulling out a first-aid kit from under the sink.

“Looks like some of your stitches ripped,” she says with an apologetic look. “I’ll put on a new bandage, but you should go to the hospital to get it checked out. Do you want me to call your parents?”

The thought of going to the hospital again and waking my parents this early in the morning makes my chest tighten, but I nod, letting her carefully rebandage my ear.

I know she or Vada’s dad would drive me themselves without hesitation, but I also know my parents would be upset if I didn’t tell them, so I let her call once she’s done.

At some point while she was redressing my wound, Vada left.

I frown at the empty space where she was standing, but before I can dwell on it, she returns with a glass of water and my painkillers.

She hands them over wordlessly and I thank her with a weak smile and a mumbled, "Thanks."

She doesn’t reply. She just nods before taking the empty glass and leaving again.

I don't want to be alone, I don't want her to leave, so I get up and follow her into the kitchen, where her mom is just hanging up the phone.

“Your parents are on their way, honey,” she tells me, squeezing my shoulder gently before ushering me into the living room. “Go sit on the couch and rest until they get here.”

Vada follows and sits beside me, watching me with an unreadable expression.

I hesitate before reaching for her hand, interlacing our fingers in her lap.

“Staring is rude, my love,” I try to joke, but it falls flat.

Vada barely reacts. She just hums softly and forces a small, tired smile, before resting her head on my shoulder.

I know we’re both under a lot of stress, but I expected more of a reaction from her. She always laughs at my jokes. Always.

But I understand why she’s not laughing now.

We sit in silence, the house still dark except for the dim glow of the kitchen light. Millie and Vada’s dad are still asleep.

Then, I hear a car pull into the driveway.

Vada’s mom stands immediately to greet my parents before they can ring the doorbell while I push myself up as well, my legs shaking with exhaustion.

Vada notices. “You good?”

I nod, though I don’t feel good at all. I still keep my hand in hers as we walk to the front door together.

My parents rush to me the moment they see me, concern written all over their faces, but before they can pull me outside, I turn back to Vada, cupping her face gently.

I bend down and press a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you. I’ll talk to you later?”

She barely reacts but gives a quiet “Mhmm. Love you too,” she murmurs, closing her eyes as I kiss her forehead again.

Then my parents coax me outside.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” my mom asks in the car, pulling onto the road while my dad calls the hospital to tell them we’re coming.

“Tired,” I say honestly, though I feel so much more than that. I’m in pain, my brain is still foggy, and I can’t stop worrying about Vada.

She’s been so quiet since this morning.

And I can tell she’s pulling away.

My mom glances at me in the rearview mirror. “That’s… yeah, that’s understandable.”

I can hear the worry in her voice, she and my dad are both worried about me, but I don’t know what to tell them. And I don’t know what they could possibly say to make me feel better.

There’s nothing they can do.

Still, it’s nice that they’re trying.

Despite not being home for Christmas this year, they’ve always been the best and most supportive parents.

They never miss a track meet. They take off work for my birthday and they’ve always made me feel like I can talk to them about anything without fear of getting in trouble.

“Are you in any pain?” my dad asks once he hangs up the phone, turning in his seat to look at me.

“A little, yeah,” I admit. “But I took some painkillers before you picked me up, so it should get better soon.”

“Okay. That’s good.”

He keeps watching me for a moment before nodding, but I turn back to the window.

It’s awkward how quiet it is, but right now, I’m too tired to care. I have nothing to say.

I drift in and out of consciousness, barely aware of my surroundings. I know I’m home, in my bedroom, and for the first time since the shooting, I’m not in pain.

I don’t really remember how I got here. The last thing I recall is being at the hospital, but as the hours drag by and I slip between sleep and wakefulness, fragments of memory return.

A nurse stitched me up again.

While we waited for my discharge papers, I asked my parents what exactly happened.

They shared a look before my dad handed me his phone, showing me news footage.

One shooter. Twelve kids dead. One of them was on my track team.

After that, I don’t remember much. Just the tightness in my chest and the overwhelming certainty that I was about to die.

I remember gasping for air.

I remember a prick in my arm.

And then, nothing.

I continue drifting until I finally wake up at the sound of a knock on my door.

Groggily, I turn over and switch on my bedside lamp just as the door opens. My dad steps inside, carrying a tray.

He’s still wearing his suit from work, though his tie is loosened and the top buttons of his shirt are undone.

“Hey,” he says when he sees I’m awake. “How are you feeling? I— I made you some mac and cheese in case you’re hungry.”

A genuine, if tired, smile tugs at my lips. “Better now. Thanks. I… yeah, I could eat.”

He straightens up like he wasn’t expecting that, then hurries to my side and places the tray on my lap before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Okay, here. Um, I also made you some tea. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s perfect, thanks.” I send him another small smile and take a bite, only now realizing how hungry I am. “Where’s Mom?”

“There was an emergency at the office, but she’ll be back soon,” he explains, patting my leg over the comforter.

“Oh, no, I hope it’s nothing bad.” I try to keep the conversation light, but my dad just waves it off.

“No, don’t worry. It’s nothing.” He hesitates, then clears his throat. “Listen… at the hospital—”

My chest tightens.

“—you kind of had a panic attack. The doctor had to sedate you.”

I blink. “Sedate me?”

“Yeah… You’ve been asleep for almost twenty hours.”

Oh.

“You could barely breathe,” he continues, voice soft. “We were afraid you would—”

I lift a hand, cutting him off before he spirals. “It’s okay, Dad.” I offer a small, tentative smile and take a sip of tea. “Best sleep I ever got.”

He exhales sharply and shakes his head. “Don’t joke about that.”

I chuckle, even though my ear throbs a little. “Sorry, I can’t help it.”

The silence that follows is comfortable, until I remember something. “Sorry for ruining your and Mom’s date night, by the way.”

“What?!” He scoffs and lightly smacks my leg over the comforter. “Why would you say that? It’s just date night. You could have died.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Yeah, but still. You both were looking forward to it. You even had a reservation at that fancy restaurant downtown.”

My dad shrugs, smiling just a little sheepishly. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you.”

A little embarrassed, I look down at my food, smiling too.

The conversation drifts into quiet as I finish eating and then, once I’m done, I take a quick shower while my dad goes downstairs to do the dishes.

My mom comes home shortly after, checking on me before I climb back into bed. I’m exhausted again because the sedative still lingers in my system, and I barely slept at Vada’s.

Speaking of Vada…

Once I’m settled under the blankets, I pull out my phone and text her, ignoring the flood of unread messages from classmates asking if I’m okay.

You (9:12 PM) Hey, I’m sorry I’m only reaching out now. I’ve been asleep most of the day. How are you? What did you do today?

It takes a couple of minutes for her to reply, longer than usual, and it makes me worry because she's usually glued to her phone, but then she answers, and that worry fades.

Vada <3 (9:14 PM) it’s okay

how r u feeling now?

i went and saw nick earlier he asked about you

Her replies are a little shorter than usual, but I brush it off. I shift under the sheets, making sure I’m not lying on my ear before replying.

You (9:15 PM) Better now, but I’m still tired.

That’s good! How’s he? I hope you had a good time.

Again, there’s a delay in her answer, but once again, I think nothing of it.

Vada <3 (9:18 PM) that’s good

get some more rest

nick’s okay we talked about what happened and he’s thinking of starting a petition or something to make sure it doesn’t happen again

You (9:18 PM) I will.

Oh really? That’s great.

My thumbs hover over the screen because I know I want to say something else, but I don’t know what.

A moment later, Vada beats me to it and when I read what she says, my stomach sinks a little.

Vada <3 (9:18 PM) i know, he really might be onto something

you should get some more rest, baby

i’ll talk to you tomorrow

I swallow dryly, not really knowing how to feel before replying.

You (9:19 PM) Yeah, you’re right.

Talk to you tomorrow.

I love you.

The three dots appear at the bottom of the screen, disappearing and reappearing several times before her reply finally comes through.

Vada <3 (9:20 PM) love you too

It’s simple, and I know she means it, but if I’m honest, I was expecting more.

I stare at my screen for a little while, waiting for her to maybe send something else, but she doesn't. I turn off my phone with a sinking feeling, and switch off my bedside lamp before rolling over to get some more sleep.

It has been four days since the shooting, and I am slowly but surely feeling better. The dizziness is gone, and the tinnitus has faded, but I am still exhausted because now, I am starting to have nightmares.

Every night, I wake up in a cold sweat, making my parents rush into my room to calm me down. I usually dream about the shooting, but not about what happened to me. Instead, I dream about Vada—how she is hiding in the bathroom or how she gets hurt right in front of me.

It leaves me breathless and shaking, so I take a cold shower each time to wake myself up and wash away the memory of the dream.

My parents told me I could stay home from school as long as I needed, which I am grateful for. The moment I brought up the idea of seeing a therapist, they immediately agreed, pulling some strings through their connections at work until they got me an appointment with one of the best therapists in LA.

That was yesterday. We did not talk much about the shooting yet, but we went over my panic attack at the hospital. Even though it was draining, it still made me feel better afterward. Talking about everything is exhausting, but I know it is going to help me in the long run.

I also finally answered all the texts I had ignored, letting people know I was fine and that I would be at Brody’s funeral. He was the guy on my track team who was killed. I knew him pretty well, though we were not exactly friends. Still, my teammates and I organized the flower arrangements for his service, which will be held tomorrow.

Over the past few days, I have been texting and calling Vada, but we have not seen each other since that first night. I have been too tired most of the time, and she was told to go back to school.

It aches, knowing she is there while I can stay home, but what hurts even more is how distant she has been.

She answers my texts and calls, but her responses are short. When I asked if I should come over last night, she told me not to because I might overwork myself.

She also keeps saying she is helping Nick organize a protest, but when I texted Nick two days ago, he said he had not seen Vada since the day after the shooting.

It makes me worry, but not because I think she might be cheating. I know she would never do that. What worries me is that she is lying, trying to keep me from realizing how much she is pulling away.

She has become a shell of the person she used to be. Millie noticed it too. She called me this morning, crying about how Vada keeps pushing her away.

I reassured her that Vada was just processing everything, and somehow, she managed to convince me to come over and make slime with her for her YouTube channel.

That is what I am doing now.

I sit in the dining room, holding the camera while Millie chats excitedly about what she is doing. Their mom watches from the kitchen, checking on us every so often with a small smile.

I thought Vada might be here too. I even hoped I could surprise her by showing up. But she is not.

Her mom said she was at Nick’s, but I know she does not believe it either as she keeps glancing at her phone and checking the time on the oven while Sunday morning inches toward eleven o’clock, and Nick is at his protest.

"Blue or red?" Millie asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I adjust my grip on the camera and straighten up. "What?"

She grins and holds up two small tubes of dye. "The slime. Blue or red?"

"Uh, red." I watch as she mixes the color into the slime, my mind still elsewhere, when Vada’s mom suddenly rushes past us toward the front door.

"Where have you been?!" Her voice is filled with relief and anger, and I immediately know who she is talking to. "You’ve been gone all night! We were worried sick about you! If you’re going to spend the night at a friend’s house, just tell us!"

"Mom." Vada groans, storming past her and through the dining room without realizing I’m here.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Her mom follows after her. "Come back here, young lady. We’re not done talking yet. Where were you? And why do you smell like a minibar? Have you been drinking?"

Vada whines, and I hear her stop in the kitchen.

Millie and I share a look. I turn off the camera, sensing the tension thickening in the house. "Maybe we should give them some privacy. How about you show me the morning routine you filmed today?"

She hesitates before nodding and getting up, ready to lead me to her room.

Their voices continue rising behind us as we walk away, but I try to ignore it. It’s none of my business, no matter how much I worry about Vada.

Then, I stop dead in my tracks.

"No, Mom! I didn’t sleep with her, it was just a kiss! We got drunk and—"

My blood turns ice cold.

"You got drunk?" Her mom's voice cuts in, completely skipping over the kiss part. "Please tell me you didn’t get drunk under some bridge or something. Do you know what could have happened if—"

"We didn’t get drunk under a bridge!" Vada snaps. "We were at her place. She has this huge house, and her parents are never home, and—"

I don’t hear the rest.

I can’t hear the rest.

She kissed someone.

She kissed someone else.

From what I’ve just heard, I can only assume it was Mia.

Mia Reed.

Nick told me Vada had been texting her since the shooting because they hid in the bathroom together, but I had no idea they were hanging out.

So this is where she has been every time she lied about being with Nick.

Millie turns to me, her face pale, panic in her eyes. She looks at me, waiting for some kind of reaction, but I can’t move.

I can’t think.

I can’t breathe.

Footsteps approach. My head snaps up, and then Vada steps into the hallway.

She is still arguing with her mom until she sees me.

She stops immediately.

Her face falls, the color draining from her skin as she realizes I heard everything.

"Vada, no, you can’t—" Her mom stops behind her, also noticing me and Millie.

She blinks, clearly having forgotten we were even here.

I don’t care. I can’t care.

I just stare at Vada, and she stares back at me.

It feels like my entire world just shifted, like the ground has cracked beneath my feet, but I am still standing. My hands start shaking. My heart pounds in my chest.

No.

She didn’t.

How could she?

Why would she?

"Y/N..." Vada breathes, her voice low and scratchy. She takes a step toward me, reaching out, even though she’s still several feet away.

Her voice snaps me out of my trance, and suddenly, my eyes burn with tears.

I look away, staring at the floor, trying to keep it together. When I meet her eyes again, all I see is guilt. Regret.

She takes another step forward, about to say something, but I speak before she can.

"I… should go."

"Y/N…" she tries again, but I shake my head.

I turn to Millie, who looks like she’s about to cry. She has always looked up to her sister, and now she has to witness all of this.

I swallow hard and force my voice to stay steady. "I’ll see you soon, yeah?"

Millie hesitates, glancing between me, her mom, and Vada before nodding with a small frown.

"Okay then…" I try to smile, but it barely comes through.

I turn around, not daring to meet Vada’s eyes when I brush past her.

Her mom gives me a pitiful look, but I don’t acknowledge it. My mind is already slipping into numbness as I make my way to the front door.

I slip on my shoes, the silence in the house suffocating, then open the door and step outside.

I make it to my car, hands still shaking as I unlock it, but freeze when I hear her voice again.

"Y/N, wait!"

I don’t.

She rushes down the porch steps, but I get in the car, pull the door shut, and reverse out of the driveway before she can reach me.

I can barely see the road.

My hands won’t stop trembling, my chest feels tight, and I know I can’t drive home like this.

After rounding the block, I pull over to the curb and kill the engine.

For a moment, I just sit there, staring blankly ahead.

Then, without warning, the weight of everything crashes down, and I completely break down.

So this is what rock bottom feels like. Just when I thought things were looking up a little.

_______________________________________________

💔

#x reader #angst #vada cavell x reader #vada cavell #the fallout

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