"Marley, your friend is here!"

            Rodger's voice shook the house and I rolled off the side of my bed, eyes wide as I stared at the door. Mom had left for a business trip early this morning, but had made sure I knew I was grounded and wasn't to go to Gage's or run off with April until I prioritized school. Unfortunately for her, my stepfather wasn't as harsh and had believed me when I told him I felt like crap this morning. It wasn't a lie, every day of my life I felt as I had the second I'd slipped down in the tub right before the pills dissolved and the darkness consumed what was left of me. Mom had made sure to scold her husband as much as me this morning, making him promise that he'd see me into my classes and not allow me out of the house.

            Just as I reached for my phone, there was a light knock on my bedroom door and I approached the door with a hesitation in every step. A part of me assumed I'd find Louis on the other side, and he'd shove me back in and corner me. That slipped my mind as soon as I was greeted by the definition of tall, dark, and handsome.

            Gage wore sweatshirts so often I'd figured they were another skin for him. In the month I'd known him he'd wore anything else; he'd went through the same four sweatshirts throughout the week and repeated the same the next. But the boy before me looked as if he'd just walked off a photography set. He was dressed in a royal blue blazer over a wrinkled white shirt, a pair of black slacks just as wrinkled as the shirt. His hair, usually a mess falling into his eyes, was slicked back in the same way my brother used to do his own; loaded with so much gel it began to seep in and rid him of brain cells. Somehow, despite the new look, the fact that the clothes were wrinkled and the tie askew, fit Gage. It was also strange that the loss of the s

            "What are you doing here?" I asked immediately, tearing my eyes from him and slowly looking outside of the room to make sure Louis hadn't been the one to show him to my room. "You can't just show up to my house!"

            His eyebrows rose in surprise by my unexpected outburst. "Well, hello to you to."

            "What are you doing here, Gage?"

            "You weren't at school. You weren't answering my texts, so I called and it went straight to voicemail. Given our history, that isn't a good sign, Mar."

            The anger drained at that.

            "My mom took it and gave it to my stepdad before she left." I mumbled, gesturing toward myself. "I'm alive. You can go."

            "I told your dad I was here to help you study." he nudged me aside and stepped into my room.

            "Stepdad." I corrected as if it mattered, but he was staring at my room, not that there was much to look at.

            I'd stripped my walls of the band posters and pictures that once lay sporadically across them. My book shelf had been packed in a tiny box that sat hidden under a parka in the closet, and though there was a TV on top of my dresser, it hadn't been touched in close to a year and a layer of dust lay across the screen.

            "It's. . . brighter than I thought." he finally looked back to me. "I kind of thought I'd be walking into a giant pit of darkness."

            That's what my heart felt like, so I suppose I could understand where he was coming from.

            "Where were you going?" I tried to change the subject before he could poke and prod my room. "You don't look like you're dressed for school."

            His smile twitched downward before disappearing altogether. "I have some stupid charity banquet to go to for my father."

            I was in the middle of trying to think of a response when a gentle tap sounded in my door frame and followed by a snicker. Both Gage and I looked and I staggered back. Louis had stepped into my room, lingering beside the door and looking back and forth between the two of us.

            "Is something funny?" Gage straightened, and though he saw me shaking my head, he proceeded to cross the room so he was putting himself between Louis and me.

            "You're such a little whore, Marlene." Louis said with bitterness dripping off every word. This shifted Gage entirely and he was no longer the sadistic jokester that had acted my escape for the last month. He seemed to have grow a few more inches, or perhaps it was that he usually slouched slightly and now that he was eye to eye with my brother, I was able to see just how tall he actually was. His eyes had hardened and burned holes into the side of Louis' head as he looked to me once more.

            Then slowly, a cold smile touched at Gage's lips. "Okay, hold on a second. You're calling her a slut because you raped her? Am I missing something? Can you make that make sense?"

            I don't know who looked more horrified; Louis or me, but the room dropped a good thirty degrees as my stepbrother gave Gage a hard shove and snapped through his teeth, "I don't know what you're talking about, Griffin. You can't go around making accusations like that."

            The smile on Gage's face isn't a kind one. It's sadistic, cruel, angry.

            "It's not an accusation." he answered calmly, then softer says, "It's what happened."

            Louis started to try and shove passed Gage again, ready to strike at me, but Gage moves so he's blocking his view again, "Last I checked I'm the one talking to you, not her."

            I grabbed Gage's forearm roughly, urging him to stop, but he looked ready to kill my stepbrother without a second thought or remorse. Louis was saved by his dad slowing to a stop outside my room and poking his head in, eyes flickering between the two boys. Even from where he stood, he had to see that a fight was moments from breaking out.

            "Is there a problem here, boys?"

            Gage holds Louis' gaze for a few more minutes before he eventually looks to Rodger. "No sir, Louis was just leaving."

            My stepfather doesn't look convinced but slaps a hand against his son's back and pulls him out into the hall before continuing on to whatever it was he was doing before making the stop. Louis looks Gage dead in the eyes, then threatens, "You better watch your back, Griffin."

            Just when I think that'll be Gage's breaking point and he'll stand down, he returns the look and snaps, "Likewise."

            They mad dog one another for a little while longer before Louis turns on his heal and slams my door shut behind him. I flinched as the hinges rattled, but didn't make an advance to try and clear the tension still lingering in the air.

            "You good?" Gage turned in my direction.

            I only stared blankly at him, my eyes stinging with tears. "How did you know?"

            He looked as if he didn't want to answer the question, but forced out a response.

            "Your expression as soon as he stepped into the room." he took a step toward me. "I'm not surprised, the guy is a piece of shit."

            I pushed away his outstretched hand, backing away with every step he took forward. "I want you to leave."

            "You don't." he instantly retorted.

            "Leave!" my voice caught in my throat. "Get out!"

            He acted as if the words hadn't been spat in his face and stopped a few inches in front of me. Then at a snails pace, curled his fingers gently around my wrist and pulled me forward until I was in his embrace. I thrashed a couple times, slamming my clenched fists against his chest before I finally gave in and buried my face against him.

            *

            I looked from the concrete under my shoes to Gage beside me, but he was staring intently down at his phone. I leaned to the side and nearly threw up when I saw what he was watching. The police had done all they could to clear the video from everywhere it'd been posted, but I had known very well that some people would still have it saved on their phones and it'd likely found its way on to the side of the internet law enforcement didn't typically go delving into.

            I had seen the video once; it'd been when one of the Sophomore girls had caught me before I stepped foot into the cafeteria to warn me about it and thrusted her phone in my face so I could see it.

            For every small, vivid detail I couldn't remember, I, along with the rest of the internet, was able to see in the video. Because whoever had been standing in the room recording hadn't taken it from an angle where it was close to impossible to spot who the boy was, but would continuously zoom in on my face so it was clear who the victim was. I had only drunk a cup of beer, but Louis had slipped something into it, because I had spent the time leading up to that trying to find a bedroom because the world was starting to spin around me.

            "Why haven't you told them?" Gage questioned.

            I looked over to find he'd closed out of his phone and was staring up the stairs at me.

            "You shouldn't have to stay here, Marley. He. . . you have to tell them."

            "They won't believe me." I laid my hands flat on top of my legs, but he was one step ahead of me and grasped both of them in his own before I could sink my nails into them. "He made it clear that he'd just call bullshit if I tried."

            "Has he tried again?" Gage moved so he was on his knees in front of me, not releasing my hands.

            "What?" I said quickly. "No."

            "You can't stay here, Mar."

            I dug my nails into the side of his hand in hopes he'd release them, but he only tightened his grip.

            "I have no choice."

            "Your dad?"

            "He's dead." I answered. "I have nowhere else to go."

            Something changed in Gage's demeanor the same way it had back in my room.

            "You can't stay here, Mar. Not with him here." the look that entered his eyes then was enough for me to stop fighting him. "He will do it again."

            The agonizing look in his eyes was the first I'd seen of any sort of trauma surfacing. All color had drained from his face, his lips partially open as he tried to read my expression.

            "Why did you do it?" I asked him.

            "Do what?"

            "Shoot yourself."

            The question made his eyes immediately avert from me and find something only he could see in the distance.

            "I've been through some shit." Is all he said.

            I wanted to fight him, to ask why he got to know every little thing about me but I knew close to nothing about him, but I couldn't find the energy to do anything but flip my hand over and wrap my hand in his own. Because as hard as he tried to hide his struggle, keep his demons caged, something that had happened tonight had set them loose and they were sure to torment him to his core given the chance.

            "We're so screwed up." he whispered, resting his head against my knee. "I fucking hate it. Sometimes. . . sometimes I feel like April. I just want it all to end."

            Hearing the words was feeling all hope dissipate around us. Because the only words I could find to respond as I stared into the dark night ahead were, "Me too."