Fallen Crest Forever (Fallen Crest High #7)

“I can help,” she murmured.

More tears flowed down my face. I was numb, but I wasn’t. I was dazed. I was too aware. I could feel everything. I couldn’t feel anything.

I was a mess.

I just choked out, “Thank you.”

Grace stood behind Courtney, and she stayed in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on her face. “Hey, Sam.”

Courtney shared a look with Grace before clearing her throat. “Maybe I could finish packing for you? I’m sure Taylor will bring anything I missed?”

I couldn’t answer. That meant I had to actually leave. I had to stand and walk out. For real.

I sat.

“Um . . . ”

“SAM?! SAM!”

I froze. That voice was Heather’s. Someone had called her. She hurried down the hallway, pausing at the sight of Courtney and Grace, but rushed to me. “Oh, Sam.”

That’s all she said. That was all she had to say.

I’d been crying before, but I sobbed now. “Heather.” I could only gut out her name.

“Sam.” She grabbed me in a hug, cradling my head to her chest, and she just held me, like a child. I was gone after that. Heather was there. She would take care of everything, and I just cried.





We went to Courtney and Grace’s apartment.

I would remember later how Heather took over. She introduced herself, found out who they were, then took one look at me and the room. She announced, “Okay. Let’s pack up her things.”

And just like that, they did.

Heather told me later that Channing came with her. I couldn’t move, so he’s the one who carried me out of the house and to Heather’s car. He helped carry me into the apartment too, but he left again. I didn’t know where he went, and Heather said later that Channing left to join the guys.

She was there for me. He was there for Mason.

The rest of that night, I cried.

Heather held me, and I kept crying.

I didn’t know when I would stop.





It was dark. Heather’s even breathing beside me told me she was sleeping soundly, but something had woken me up.

A flash!

There it was. I looked over. My phone was flashing. I already knew who it was. I felt him inside of me, and I clicked on the screen.

You okay? I just want to know that much.

Sadness lined every organ in my body. I didn’t think it would ever leave. Crying. But awake. You?

I didn’t wait long.

A minute later, Drunk.

It was a dagger to me. I didn’t want Mason to hurt. I didn’t want to hurt.

Thirty seconds later. How are we going to do this?

I took a deep breath. My hand started to tremble. What do you mean?

His reply: We should talk. I know why, but we should still talk.

He was right. I thumbed back, a hollow ache filled my chest, Give me a bit. I can’t talk and not break down yet.

Can I text you? Can we still do this?

I let the breath out. I already knew my face was wet again. I didn’t think it was going to be dry any time soon. A thousand knives were in my lungs, in my throat. I couldn’t breathe without pain. I couldn’t swallow without pain. I couldn’t move without pain.

Have to. I can’t do this without you.

My phone buzzed back his reply. Love you.

Love you. Be safe.





You too.


I’m at Courtney and Grace’s.

I know. Taylor told Logan. He told me.

Logan’s mad.

He doesn’t understand.

He doesn’t understand. Those words. I stared at them. It felt right to be texting with Mason. It felt like we were back together. I was just at a friend’s house, but that wasn’t real. I’d walked away—no, that’s not even right. He let me go. He walked for me, and then I was carried away.

Those thousand knives suddenly became ten thousand knives.

I wanted Mason back. I wanted to be in his arms. I heard Heather’s deep breathing behind me and wanted that to be him. I wanted it with each of the knives pushing inside of me.

I couldn’t respond. My hands were suddenly clammy, and the shaking was too much. I wouldn’t be able to hold on to the phone in a few seconds.

Then, it buzzed. I will make things right. I promise.

One large teardrop fell onto the phone. It blurred his words. I wiped it off with my thumb, but tucked the phone under the pillow next to me. I slept with those words in my head.





The next day passed in a blur, and the following night, Mason texted again as I lay in bed.

Sam?





Mason.


I wanted to smile, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wanted to ignore how I needed to hear from him. I couldn’t do that either.

Still okay?

I wouldn’t answer that. Did you go to class?

Have to. I can’t play if I don’t.

I didn’t care if I ran this weekend, but it was different for him. Thousands cared if he played. One missed race from me wouldn’t go noticed by too many, for now. That would change, but for now I was okay.

I texted, You’re loved and adored.

Fuck. I don’t care about that. You know that.

I did. And I felt my tears. They always came. Are things right yet?

I didn’t know what we could do. I knew I was being irrational to ask that—nothing could have changed that quickly—but I couldn’t stop my fingers. I couldn’t stop the swell of hope filling my chest, even though I knew what his answer would be. But still, I waited.

Another minute.

Then, We should have the official talk.

I could only grip my phone as I stared at his last response. Talk. Official.

That’s right. We were still unofficially broken up, and ice-cold dread sliced my veins. If we talked, the unofficial part would become official. Call me a coward, but I was okay living in the in-between.

Not yet. I typed.

Can I tell you I love you?

Deep breath. Always.





Then I do. Always.





I didn’t go to classes that week. Heather remained at my side, and while Courtney and Grace went on with their lives, mine was at a standstill. I didn’t go to practice. I was given time off from the team because of the parking lot incident, but it wouldn’t have mattered. I wouldn’t have gone running anyway. If I started, I wouldn’t stop.

Late one night, I woke hearing raised voices in the apartment. Heather wasn’t next to me, and as I padded barefoot down the hallway, I heard her say, “Back up, Kade.”

My heart jumped.

Mason?

I hurried forward, then heard Logan’s angry voice, “She’s mine too, Heather.”

I stopped, seeing Courtney and Grace in the kitchen. They were in my line of sight and both saw me. Their eyes were wide, filled with an emotion I didn’t want to recognize. I pulled my gaze away. Grace sat at the kitchen table, a blanket pulled around her. Courtney stood in front, with one hand on the table and the other resting on her chest. I could understand the fear in their eyes.

Logan was here. Logan was pissed off. I felt their intimidation even before leaving the bedroom, but the other emotion I saw in their gazes—I swallowed hard.

I didn’t want their pity.

Why would they pity me?