I wasn't a person to really show too many emotions, and I know deep down that's one of the reasons Ryder had approached me the other night. I'd been through my fair share of trauma, but I'd always brushed it off, or at least tried to, and pushed any negative emotions or feelings so deep they only resurfaced when brought up by someone else. I wanted to believe that this whole list and situation with Ryder would be something I could do the same with, that even if he did at some point meet his inevidtable demise, I'd be able to pick myself back up and carry on with my life.

Unfortunately, the rational part of my brain, especially after seeing the look of devastation and hurt on Ryan Blake's face, knew that wouldn't be the case. This wasn't just some asshole who stood me up at Prom and I'd eventually grow to forget it ever happened to begin with. This was someone who was dying, and doing everything humanly possible to kill himself before the Cancer could take him. I was going to have a part in him getting himself killed, and if he didn't succeed, would be in the wake of the aftermath of the disease taking him until there was nothing left of him.

Digging my heel into the wet mud beneath my sneaker, I tried to shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. One that had been there long before I'd started thinking about Ryder and his crazy list.

         Against my will, my eyes shot to the black Challenger double parked behind my sister's Gray Nissan Altima. Fresh raindrops continuously hit the windshield and rolled off, smacking the pavement with just as much force. Though I was just as soaked as the cars in the driveway, it was better than the alternative of being in the battlefield inside my house right now. My father had showed up a couple hours ago and had been going at it with Mom and Eddie since. I'd walked out about five minutes into the argument, contemplating calling Max, but ultimately deciding against it.

        Between Gabby's outburst and his confrontation with the Blake's, it probably wasn't the best idea to call him. He'd been extremely hungover and irritated, but even worse, worried. He knew all about my father, and would want to know every little detail, which I had no desire speaking about.

       "Ryder, man, come. . ." Ryan's yell startled me so bad I nearly slipped off the swing. Ryder was stomping up the front steps of his house, flipping his brother off. Seconds later the sound of the door slamming echoed through the yard, almost as loud as the clap of thunder that followed it. Ryan stared after his younger brother for a few minutes, one hand rubbing his sharp jaw, the other grasping a duffel bag. Thanks to my ugly glasses, I was able to see Ryder's named sewn into the side. Just as he was about to head up the driveway after his brother, Ryan caught sight of me next to the playground.

        Much to my disliking, he looked at his door for a moment before crossing the yard to me.

     "What are you doing out here, Summers?" He asked, then added. "I didn't know you wore glasses."

      Just as he swung the red and white duffel bag over his left his shoulder, the front door slammed shut and my father stormed down the steps, shaking his head to himself, most likely talking about my mom and stepfather under his breath. I watched Ryan's entire body grow tense at the sight of my dad, the gears shifting in his head as he came to the realization of why I was out here.

     "Are you okay?" He asked, prying his eyes off my father. I nodded, but didn't respond. Even if I had wanted to, my father caught sight of us seconds after climbing into his Challenger, and got back out.

         "Ryder was in the hospital last night." Ryan muttered, as if he were trying to change the subject.

      I shot up, grasping the chains of the swing. "Is he okay?"

     "He's fine. Was just throwing up all night. Took him in to get him some fluids in him. They told me it was normal for-"

      "There you are!" My dad interrupted Ryan, earning a dark look out of both of us. He slowed to a stop a few feet away, hands deep in his jacket pockets as he looked back and forth between Ryan and me, looking almost intimidated by the young man in front of him.

      Max and the Blake's were the only people that had been present when my father was arrested ten years ago. My father had smacked me hard across the face at my mother's dinner party a couple hours prior to the arrest and my mother had been in the middle of making a plan for us to leave, both extremely embarrassed and horrified by the action. She had been scared he'd do worse to me the more I talked back. They had started fighting in their room, and I'd assume it got physical as my mother walked out with a bloody nose and told me to go to the Blake's and find Mary. The second I was outside my father tried to pull me back in and I'd ended up falling down the steps and banging my head. Ryan and Ryder had been outside playing, Max approaching the house. Ryan, being almost eleven at the time and understanding the situation better had helped me up and yelled at my father to stay away while Ryder had run inside for his Mom. Not even ten minutes later my father was in cuffs and in the back of a police car.

       Watching Ryan stare my father down, I was honestly a little surprised he remembered. It'd been so long that the traumatic memories were even a little fuzzy to me.

      "Ryan Blake? My God, look how much you've grown." My dad said when Ryan finally met his eyes. The Blake's beautiful blues were unmistakable, they could be spotted in a crowd of people easy.

     "What the hell are you doing here?" Ryan finally barked; anger as clear as day in his eyes.

     My father, taken back, sighed. "I wanted to see my daughter. Why don't you head back inside and—"

       "I'm fine where I'm at, thanks." Ryan closed the small distance between them. "How about you head back to whatever sewer your crawled back out of."

        Seeing them face to face, I had to say I could see why my father had been a little intimidated by Ryan. It wasn't even so much that he had a few inches on my dad, but his whole being just radiated confidence and arrogance. My father looked back toward me with a laugh after a few minutes of standing under Ryan's intense glare.

          "You're just going to let your boyfriend fight your battles? I didn't raise a daughter that-"

          I laughed. "One, Ryan is not my boyfriend, two, you're right, you didn't raise a daughter. Collin raised me and did one hell of a job with it. I do not want anything to do with you, Dad. Not now, not ever. Please leave."

            He stared hard for a minute before shaking his head and turning his back to us. To my relief he was in his car and out of the neighborhood within a few minutes. I rubbed at my eyes with the heels of my palms, not allowing myself to cry. I didn't like crying to begin with, and to do it in front of Ryan Blake was a whole different type of embarrassment.

         "Zoey—" He started, but I pointed my finger so it was inches in front of his face.

          "We don't speak of this. This didn't happen."

           He looked as if he wanted to protest, but after a moment shrugged. "Fine, whatever. It's your life."

        "Ryder, he's okay?" I redirected the subject, my phone vibrating in my pocket my cue to get ready to head back toward my house.

        "Yeah, he's just being a dick because I forced him to go in this morning. They said him getting sick is part of the process, there's nothing we can do about it."

         "We?"

         He stepped so close to me I could feel the heat of his body against mine, and opened my palm, resting Ryder's folded up list in it. He smirked seeing how uncomfortable I was, backing away. "Yes. Since you agreed to help my brother, you're part of all this now. Like it or not, Summers, we're in this together."

*

     I sat in the mall food court for over forty-five minutes waiting for Gabby. No matter how mad she was, it wasn't like her to ghost me, and the fact that it was starting to become apparent she was, made me question just how much I knew my friend.

   As I stood up to leave, hands gripped my shoulders and spun me around, pulling me into a familiar embrace.

      "I'm so sorry, Zoe. I. . . I know I overreacted last night. It's just. . . everything feels so shitty right now. We're all going our separate ways in a couple months, all the pressure from my parents, and seeing you with Max was just the final crack in all of it. I'm sorry."

       Gabby looked about as bad as I did. Her cheeks were extremely flushed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, lips chapped and cut. She looked nothing like the gorgeous queen that'd walked into Max's house last night, and it broke my heart knowing I had a part in this.

        "No, I'm sorry, Gab. I should have immediately put clothes on. I mean, I ended up paying for that in a weird way, but still. I guess I'm just so used to being around Max I forget that he's a guy and I'm a girl, you know what I mean." I responded.

          She nodded. "I get it. I just feel like my feelings for him are a lost cause at this point. Especially since it's obvious he's in love with you."

           "He is not in love with me, Gabby." I stated flatly. "Don't you think I would have realized that by now."

          She lowered herself down in the chair I'd occupied a few minutes ago, propping her chin on her hand with a sad look. "No. Because I didn't notice it until Prom. He's pretty good at hiding it, but some days when he looks at you, it's like you're the only thing in the world he sees. Like nothing and nobody exists except you, Zoe."

        "Would it make you feel better if I asked him?" I asked.

         "He's not going to outright tell you something that could destroy your entire friendship." She mumbled, "Plus, even if he's not, he definitely isn't interested in me."

          "I'll ask him tonight. What he feels toward me and you both in indirect ways, okay? I'll let you know as soon as I do." I didn't really care about this whole thing, but if it would make her feel better, than I'd do it.

        When she didn't reply, I glanced up to find her eyes trained on something over my shoulder.

          "Why is Cade Thompson coming over here?"

     The mention of Ryder's best friend brought back memories of the grocery store with Max. He had looked so. . . broken. Nothing like the fun, outgoing jock I'd grown up with.

        "Don't even think about it." Cade snapped when I stood, eyeing Gabby in confusion. She shrugged, narrowing her eyes at the boy behind me.

        "You can leave, Mason. This is between Zoey and me." He said, earning a dark look out of her. She then turned to me, almost asking as if it was, in fact, something that needed to be discussed in private. I nodded slowly, knowing exactly what the conversation would be about. She reached across the table and squeezed my hand hard before walking toward the escalator and disappearing out of sight. With her exit came Cade's appearance. He fell into the vacant seat across from me with a bitter look. His hazel eyes looked just as bloodshot as my best friend's, but held a cold emptiness that was uniquely his own. Finally, after a few seconds of silence, he spoke again.

        "We need to talk."