RIDLEY IS LYING stone still on my bed, staring at the ceiling with his shoes still on. He never leaves his shoes on—he knows we don’t allow it—and now they’ve left muddy smudges at the bottom of my comforter.
I’m too worried to care.
It has been exactly twenty-three minutes since Mom called me to the door with the tiniest bit of an edge to her voice. No one else would have noticed probably, but it’s the closest I’ve ever heard her to panic. I didn’t know what to expect when I ran down the hall, but it definitely wasn’t Ridley standing on our doorstep with a black bag slung across his body and a haunted look on his face.
“I got this, Mom,” I said, taking his hand and leading him back to my room.
She mouthed Is he okay? and all I could do was shrug because I didn’t know. Our last texts had been about going to Stacks later today, and he’d seemed fine. Mom followed us to my room, lingering for a minute, and then shut the door behind us.
And now, with his heartbeat thumping in my ear like a metronome on speed, I know the answer is loudly and conclusively no, he is not.
I tried to talk to him at first. I tried to tell him some facts, to make him laugh, but he just lay down without a word, his eyes red and exhausted, his breath still hitching. I did the only thing I could think of: I curled up next to him, I told him I loved him, and I waited.
“I can’t ever go back to that house,” he says, and I startle a little. I thought he’d fallen asleep. I glance at the clock again; it’s been two hours since he came to my door.
“What happened?”
“I got out.”
I go back to stroking his hair, just relieved that he’s talking. “What does that mean?”
He draws in a deep breath, holding it for a full beat before letting it out. “I told my father that I was done. He knew the reports were fake already. We got in a fight, and he said some stuff, and—it’s fine.” His breath hitches again as his words trail off.
I nuzzle in closer, kissing any part of him I can reach. “It’s okay, Ridley. You’re okay.” When I stop, he looks down at me, frowning.
“He said I was a . . .” He’s looking at me so intensely, it scares me. “Am I a black hole?”
“No,” I say, sitting up. “I hate your father. I hate him. You are not a black hole.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumbs and shuts his eyes. “But I am. I am. Look at what I’ve done to you.”
“You haven’t done anything to me.”
“They’re going to send me back to Washington, I bet. Back to that house, and it’ll just be me and all those windows and a fucking housekeeper and nothing.” He squeezes my arm tight. “I thought I could do the right thing for once, but it didn’t matter anyway. I’ll—”
“My parents will help us; we’ll figure it out.”
“No,” he says, scrambling backward until he slams into my headboard. “Peak, if they find out who I am now, I’ll have nothing. You were right; we can never tell them. I was stupid to think we could.” He jumps up and starts pacing. I’ve never seen him this frantic. “What if my dad tells them now to screw with me? I can’t—there’s no—”
“It’s going to be okay,” I say in as calm a voice as I can muster.
“You don’t understand. I can’t go back. I’ll—” And then, all at once, he goes completely still, and our eyes meet. “You could leave with me.”
“What?”
“Leave with me, Peak. It’s the only other option.”
“Only other option than what?” I ask, the hairs on my arms standing up as I realize what he’s talking about. I know exactly what he’s doing: he’s checking for emergency exits and coming up short.
“I won’t go back to my mom’s.” He shakes his head. “And I can’t stay here. Peak, if your parents—no, when your parents figure it out, it’s all over for us anyway. Come with me.”
“I have school. I have the audition for the summer program in, like, a week and a half! We can’t go anywhere.”
He scrunches his eyes shut, nodding in a way that feels more for him than for me. “You’re right,” he says, walking over to where I sit. “You’re right. The audition. I’m so proud of you, Peak.” He leans down and kisses me. It feels so right, so loving, that I almost don’t realize what it is—a goodbye.
I grab on to his sleeve, but he shakes me off. “Ridley.”
“It wasn’t fair to ask. I’m not thinking straight.”
“Ridley, stop. Seriously, you’re scaring me. Stay here for tonight. It’ll be okay.”
He exhales, his nostrils flaring as he wipes at his eyes. “It will never be okay, Peak. That’s the thing.”
And then, before I even realize what’s happening, he’s shoved open my window and thrown his bag outside, putting his hands on the sill like he aims to follow.
“Wait.” And I thought there’d be more time before it all came crashing down, that we’d get at least a few months of happiness. I thought if we could just make it to summer . . . I can’t let him go out there alone, though, not like this.
“I’m coming with you.” I glance at my cello; I can’t help it, because leaving right now feels like losing it forever. Resentment rises up inside, choking me, but I swallow it down. There’ll be time to be pissed—at his parents for failing him, at the world for putting us in this situation, at him too maybe—later. When he’s safe.
He runs his hands through his hair, linking his fingers behind his head. “Peak,” he says, letting out a hard breath. “This isn’t—I’m trying to do the right thing here. I don’t want to—I’m not going to be your black hole too.”
And I swear to god, if I ever see his father again, I will claw his eyes out myself.
“I can decide for myself,” I say, even though this is the definition of forcing my hand, but whatever. I grab my book bag off my chair and shove some clothes inside. I know this is a terrible idea, probably the worst I’ve ever had, but if I can get him through the night, then we can come back and fix it all when he’s calmer and thinking straight. My parents are going to kill me, but I don’t see any other choice.
I zip up my bag and turn to look at him, hoping I look more confident than I actually feel. Inside my stomach is churning. “Okay, let’s go.”
Ridley drops his arms and looks at me. “I’m not worth it.”
“You are.” I try to mask the annoyance in my voice. If he only realized that, we wouldn’t be here in the first place. Why can’t he realize that?
He turns around to hop out the window, but I pull his shoulder back. I nudge him out of the way, dropping my bag outside next to his. He looks at me, confused, as I walk to the bedroom door.
“Don’t you think it would be a little suspicious if we jumped out of my bedroom window? We probably only have a few more minutes before they come open the door anyway.”
“You’re going to tell them you’re leaving?”
“I won’t tell them what we’re really doing, but I’ll say you’re staying with Frankie for a few nights and I’m taking you to get settled.”
“Get me settled?” He winces. “Like I’m a little kid.”
“Ridley.” I squeeze his hand. “I have to tell them something.” And also, I’m kind of hoping I can convince him that Frankie is our best bet anyway, so it’s not really a lie.
“Okay,” he says, squeezing my hand back. “Okay.”