I didn't expect him to answer. I didn't expect him to pick up on the third ring either. Because I really thought he didn't wanna talk to me anymore. I mean, who the hell did want to talk to me. I wouldn't blame him if he let me go to voicemail. I wouldn't have blamed him if he ignored me for everything that I had done, especially because our mutual friends hated me. But he did answer, and I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to start. I knew what I wanted to say, and I knew what had to be said. I just didn't know how to form the words, what to start with so that he didn't hang up.

"Hey," I started with. That was the only word, the only syllable, I would squeeze past my lips. The other end of the line was silent. Maybe he was thinking about what to say as well. I mean, it would make sense for both of us to feel awkward. This was a conversation that was difficult to have. This was a conversation I didn't even want to have, but I did at the same time. If we got past the hard part, maybe I could get my friend back.

"I need to see you." I could feel my lungs constrict again, panic building inside me. I had to shut down my anxiety, pretend it didn't exist. I didn't have time for it. I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my phone flush against my ear, pressing into my skin. "Can we go watch the planes again?" I let out a breath. "It wasn't like we were really watching, since it was three am and all last time. But maybe this time we can stay for the sunrise. Or we can just talk. Or we can just sit there in silence I don't care I just need to see you."

I wanted to cry again. I couldn't cry again. The night before, I had cried too much. Friday night, I cried myself to sleep. It was now the middle of the night, the middle of the night on Saturday, and I guess we just got along better in the middle of the night. It would be kind of weird to do this in the middle of the day, since maybe someone could see us. But the night, it was our friend. I feel like it bonded us, in a way that nothing else had bonded us before. So, I wanted to end where we began, if there was an end. And if this was a new beginning, then I wanted our new beginning to be where everything really began.

"Okay," he responded.

"Okay," I said.

"I'll pick you up?"

"Sounds good".

Click, the line went dead. I let out a breath I didn't know that I had been holding, tucking my knees up to my chin as I sat in my bed, staring off into space. I needed a script of what to say to him, but I couldn't think. I couldn't breathe. The voice inside my head controlled by my anxiety wouldn't shut up. She said, "What if he doesn't forgive you? What if he hates you. What if everyone hates you forever? What if you never make new friends, and you're stuck hating yourself for the rest of your life?" And then I was spiraling again, thoughts moving a hundred miles an hour. I flopped back onto my bed, my head narrowly missing the headboard. I drew my knees to my chest, squeezed my eyes shut. I felt full fledged panic. I felt like I needed to run far far away to escape my thoughts. I felt like I needed to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. I felt like the thoughts would never end unless I ended myself.

Deep breath in. Out. Like the therapist said, my brain couldn't be anxious while I was deep breathing. In. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Out. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

I felt a little better. If I focused on my breathing, I couldn't focus on the negative thoughts floating through my head. The thoughts saying "You're worthless. You deserve nothing. This is all your fault. You can never make things right. You've always been a coward." Because every time I felt like I was making progress, thinking a little better about myself, everything went spiraling. My thoughts never shut up, my anxiety never shut up.

Ding! I picked up my phone. He was here. How long had I been spiraling for? Minutes? An hour? Who knew. I quickly gathered my phone and keys, slipped on some shoes, and ran down the stairs to the door. Not a soul stirred as I opened the door and closed it behind me. His vehicle sat in front of my house, a beacon in the dark. Lightning lit up the sky as I walked to his passenger door and opened it.

I got in the vehicle without a word to be spared. He drove in silence, but that was fine. That was warranted. I didn't deserve a sentence to be spared at my expense anyways. So, I let the silence between us do the talking, the pounding of our hearts, the tapping of his fingers against the wheel, the in and outs of our breathing, which both picked up speed with the car. A part of me felt relieved, safe, maybe a bit happy. I had come to love his presence, his calming nature, just everything about him. I knew I had feelings, I was just too broken to focus on anyone but myself at the moment. He deserved so much better.

When we got to the airport, it was pouring. It was a bit of deja vu, like the sky cried with me wherever I went. I didn't realize he had stopped the car until he was pulling open my door, head ducked to the rain, black hair clinging to his face. It was longer than I remembered. I nodded my thanks and plopped down right in the middle of the rundown road. I laughed as I tilted my head up to the sky, closing my eyes as lightning lit it up. I felt his presence next to me as he sat, far enough away for comfort but maybe I didn't want to be comfortable:

"Kiley?" He questioned.

I looked over at him then. He was dressed better for the weather then I was; jean jacket, boots, sweatpants. I was wearing clothing too thin, and my body shook without my permission. He silently took off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders.

"Don't you need that?" I asked.

He shook his head.

"August..." I trailed off, unsure of what to say. "You deserve so much better. I'm a terrible friend. You told me your secret and I couldn't tell you mine. You willingly went out with Nina to find dirt on her. You pick up the phone at strange hours. You're good, and kind, and I'm really not. Because I killed someone." I laughed, and he looked concerned. Not angry, at least. "He deserved it though. He wouldn't leave me alone, take no for an answer, so he went down the stairs. But Stacie thinks she can hold it against me, and she's right. She has held it against me because I convinced myself that I was this terrible, malicious person who did this on purpose somehow when I didn't. So-"

"Don't blame yourself," he chided.

"Let me finish. I-"

"No, because you're me. You're me before I decided who I was going to be, that I'd rather move to the U.S alone than be bullied. You-"

"No." My tears mingled with the rain. "I'm a terrible person."

"You're really not. I just have anger issues. I was hurt, Kiley. I was really hurt, but you know why I kept on with Nina? Because I care about you, and I knew that I had to give you time. I don't hate you:"

"You should. Everyone else does,"

"Kalila doesn't hate you. She's just... disappointed. But I- I couldn't tell anyone about the abuse sooner. I see how the mine stops you from coming forward. That I understand. It's just... what made me different from my cousin? From Janessa? Why was it me you couldn't tell?"

More lighting, more thunder, more torrential downpour. "Because I couldn't! Because-"

"You said I was different. Why?"

I pulled the jacket tighter around me. "Because I like you!" I blurted. "And not like a friend. Like someone I could be broken with, maybe put the pieces back together with. Not as a friend. Because I didn't want you to see me as a murderer. Because I know you could never like me that way, because-"

"Kiley?"

"What?"

"I-"

The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine. It was short and sweet, but a thousand different fireworks went off in my body, and I felt like the whole world was lifted away in that moment. Like nothing could touch me, nothing could break me.

He cleared his throat after he pulled away. "It's funny that you could ever think I don't like you romantically. You think I like Nina? No. But I did it for you. If any other friend called me at 3 am, I'd tell them the next morning that I was asleep. Maybe broken people are attached to each other, funny as that sounds."

I smiled for the first time in a while, butterflies in my chest. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do. Why would I lie?"

" Because I'm stupid."

He laughed. I loved that sound. "You're not, but maybe I am."

I scooted over next to him and he pulled me against him.

"Who else would I sit out in the rain with?" He added. "No one."

It was my turn to laugh. And I forgot all about telling him my plans. I couldn't ruin the night. Maybe I could tell him before I did it, at some other time. I didn't want to ruin the small semblance of peace I had. I didn't want everything to come crashing down around me like it usually did. I just wanted to sit with him, in the rain, and enjoy the feeling of leaning against his chest while he laughed and talked and made no move to leave. I didn't want him to talk me out of it.

In that moment, it was just him and I against the cruel world, and I wanted it to stay that way forever.