Dane

After dropping off Camila and Jared, the car felt like it was stuffed with an elephant made of unspoken tension. The engine hummed along, but every blinker tick sounded like it was about to announce my deepest secrets to the world.

I gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, sneaking a glance at Silvia. She was watching me like Sherlock Holmes about to solve her final case. Unfortunately, the case was me, and my poker face? Yeah, total fail.

Finally, she went for it. "Okay, spill. There was something going on between you and Aiden back there. I could feel it."

I let out an awkward laugh. "Oh, that? Nothing major. Just me and Aiden debating the great pineapple-on-pizza controversy. Things got a little...saucy."

She gave me that look. The one that said, "Really, Dane? That's the best you've got?" "Pineapple pizza?" she repeated, slow and sceptical. "You two looked like someone told you Santa isn't real. What's really going on?"

I tried to shrug it off, keeping my eyes glued to the road. "Don't sweat it. He's probably just salty I didn't invite him along."

She gave this tiny nod, the kind that said she wasn't convinced, but she wasn't going to pry either. Bless Silvia. My thoughts were locked up tighter than that one pickle jar no one could open, and she didn't push for the lid.

When we pulled up to her house, she gathered her stuff. Before hopping out, she leaned back in through the open door and looked right at me. "Hey," she said softly, "if you ever need to talk—about pizza toppings, Santa Claus, or, you know, anything else—I'm just a call away."

She gave me this warm smile that hit harder than it should've. For a second, the knot in my chest actually loosened. Then, she saluted me playfully and hopped out. Cute and cute. How was that even fair?

When the door shut behind her, the silence in the car got louder. That gnawing feeling in my gut? Yeah, it wasn't going anywhere. Things with Aiden were all kinds of messy, and ignoring it was only tangling the knots tighter.

Before I could chicken out, I pulled out my phone and fired off a text. Aiden replied quicker than expected, and that's how I found myself heading to the park near school—our usual spot.

The evening air had that weird moody vibe, the kind that made you feel like something was about to go down. My footsteps crunched way too loud on the gravel path, announcing me like a marching band. So much for casual.

Aiden was already there, perched on a swing. The chains squeaked every time he moved, like they were protesting existence. He looked up as I approached. "Hey," he said, cautious.

I dropped into the swing beside him, letting the silence hang for half a beat before cutting straight through it. "You know why I dragged you out here, right?"

His eyes stayed glued to the dirt. "This about Silus' sister?" he muttered.

"Yeah." I rubbed the back of my neck. "Figured you'd piece it together. Silvia's the childhood friend I've mentioned before."

His head snapped up. "Silvia. That's her name. And you didn't think to tell me?"

I scrambled for the least idiotic way to phrase it. "Look, I just...thought about your reputation."

His laugh was sharp, humourless. "Oh, you mean my heartbreaker reputation?"

I shut my mouth fast. Denying it would make me a liar. Admitting it would make me a jerk. Pick your poison.

He shook his head. "Didn't think my best friend would throw me under the bus like that."

I gave him a pointed look. "Come on, man. You forget I've had front-row seats to your entire love life."

He pushed up from the swing. "And you know better than anyone that it's all been innocent. I've never gone further than a quick peck on the cheek."

"Doesn't really erase the impulsive heartbreaker thing, though, does it?"

He folded his arms, glaring like he wanted to pin me to the swing set. "Cut the crap, Dane. You obviously like Silvia."

My stomach twisted, but I didn't see the point in playing dumb. "Yeah, I do. So what?"

His shoulders sagged, and for once, he looked less like the golden boy and more like some tired kid staring at the dirt for answers. "I just hate that you couldn't trust me enough to tell me. If you had, maybe I wouldn't have..." He trailed off, like the end of the sentence was something too heavy to drag into the air.

"Wouldn't have what?"

He winced, jaw tightening, but no words came out.

I met his eyes, refusing to back down. "Listen. I've been in love with her since we were kids. Didn't realise how deep I was in until recently, but it's been there. Always."

He exhaled, quieter this time. Not angry, not sharp—just tired. "I just hate feeling like you don't trust me."

That one landed like a boot to the ribs. He wasn't wrong. I should've trusted him. He was my best friend. But tossing Silvia into Aiden's circus of drama? No way. She'd already had enough storms thrown at her. I wasn't about to let him be another.

I stood, my feet heavy as bricks. "Guess I screwed that one up," I muttered, and walked.

Behind me, the chains squeaked once more. I didn't need to turn around to know Aiden was standing there with his head down, replaying the train wreck we'd just had.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was a grenade with the pin half-pulled. I killed the engine but didn't get out, just sat there strangling the steering wheel.

My fingers ached, my chest burned, and then—bang. I slammed both hands against the wheel. The dull thud bounced around the car, mocking me.

I barely had time to breathe before a loud crash erupted from inside the house. My heart shot into overdrive, and I was out of the car before my brain caught up. Dread was already chewing at my stomach as I sprinted for the door.

I didn't need to guess. I already knew. Same nightmare, different night. Dad—sloshed and seething. Mum—crying like she wished she could melt through the floorboards.

I rushed in, planting myself between them without thinking. "Mum, what happened?"

Her voice trembled. "Your father...he got demoted. They cut his pay."

Perfect. Just what this circus needed—another excuse for him to set fire to everything.

I wrapped an arm around her, shielding her like she was made of glass. "Stay back. I'll try to calm him down."

Her hand shot out, clutching my arm with desperate fingers. "Don't, Dane. He might hurt you again."

I forced a grin I didn't feel. "I'm not a kid anymore. I've got this."

She didn't believe me. I could see it in her eyes, but she let go anyway. That's the thing about Mum—she never really had a choice.

I turned to Dad, pulse hammering but voice steady. "Hey, Dad. Look, I get it. Things are rough. But maybe we can figure this out—together."

He snorted, a bitter laugh wrapped in booze. "Get the hell away from me."

He grabbed an empty bottle and raised it like a weapon. My heart flatlined for a second, but muscle memory—hard-earned from years of this crap—kicked in.

The bottle came swinging. I ducked. Glass whistled through the air, missing me by inches.

He staggered forward, unsteady, but too close to Mum. His bloodshot eyes locked on her, full of a hate that made my skin crawl. "This is all your fault, you bitch!"

Before my brain caught up, he swung at her. Reflex lit me up—I threw myself between them.

The world went white. The bottle smashed against my skull, exploding into a rain of glass. Pain roared through me like fireworks detonating inside my head. My knees buckled, and I hit the floor, the room spinning so fast it felt like I'd been shoved into a broken carousel.

Mum dropped to me instantly, shielding me with her body. Her hands shook, but her voice cut like steel. "Are you insane?!" she screamed at him—no hesitation, no fear this time.

Dad sneered, lips curling like he was spitting poison. "Shut up!"

But she didn't back down. Not this time. She glared at him, eyes blazing with a fire I'd never seen in her before. "I'm not letting you get away with this again."

And then—sirens. Wailing, sharp, splitting the air. Red and blue lights stuttered across the curtains like a promise this nightmare was finally coming to an end.

Dad froze. Colour drained out of him fast. "Y-you called the cops on me? On your own husband?!"

Mum's lips twitched into the coldest smile I'd ever seen. "Soon-to-be ex-husband, actually."

The next few seconds blurred. Cops stormed in, voices loud, boots heavy. Dad was cuffed before he could even think about swinging again.

I tried sitting up, but the pain made my head feel like it was filled with concrete. Warm blood trickled down my temple, blurring everything. Mum's hand gripped mine as paramedics swarmed. They hauled me up, steered me out, shoved me into an ambulance.

And then the edges of the world went soft. The pain dulled. The noise faded. Darkness pulled me under, wrapping me tight.

Suddenly, I wasn't bleeding on a stretcher anymore.

I was seven again, smack in the middle of an epic game of hide-and-seek, fighting the giggles. Silvia was "it," standing by a tree, her tiny hands over her face with giant gaps between her fingers like she thought she was sneaky.

"Ready or not, here I come!" she yelled, bouncing with excitement.

I crammed myself under the playground slide, trying to go full spy mode. In reality? I looked like a potato wedged under plastic, laughing so hard my cover was blown instantly.

Didn't matter. Silvia skipped over, grinning like she solved the world's biggest mystery. "Found you, Dane!" she chirped.

We both cracked up, high-fived like idiots, and she yanked me to my feet. "Now help me find my brother!"

We were off—tearing through the park, hand in hand, yelling like the worst detectives in history, hot on the trail of "Silus the Hider."

In that moment, life was as simple as it could get—just two kids and a whole world of hide-and-seek ahead of us.