a / n :

do tell me if there's anything i can improve on for this chapter--or this story in general. i feel like a shit writer lol so any suggestions/comments/recommendations are welcome and encouraged!! 

f o u r

COLIN SWEARS THERE are three perfectly reasonable explanations for this.

Reason one: It's raining hard. And he doesn't have an umbrella with him. It's not like he can just spend the rest of the night waiting outside for it to stop.

Reason two: There were two plates of perfectly good pancakes, still warm, laid out in front of a girl who didn't seem like she'd eat anytime soon. Colin firmly believes it would be an injustice to leave them uneaten.

Reason three: Aanya has always been nice to him, right? Aanya never made fun of him like the others. She would be devastated if she'd learned about whatever her best friend seems to be going through, so he'll check up a bit on Sadie and spare Aanya the misery.

These are the thoughts taking up his mind as he takes the seat Daniel had just vacated. He sits sideways so he wouldn't have to look at Sadie head on. From the corner of his eye, he sees her look up.

Colin ignores her stare and instead says "Are you gonna eat these?"

Daniel has ordered the s'mores pancakes. Colin can smell the toasted marshmallows. It's a shame Daniel left before eating them.

"Go ahead," Sadie says, pushing her plate towards Colin too. She ordered the strawberry and chocolate pancakes, which is typical of her. She always liked strawberries. "Have mine, too. Please."

Colin eyes her plate. Then he lets his gaze travel up to her face. She looks exhausted, and tears streak her face. He bites back a curse before grabbing Daniel's plate. He cuts up a big piece and shoves nearly half of one pancake into his mouth, chewing angrily for reasons unclear to him.

Neither of them speak, and Colin eats mostly in silence. He lets her cry, trying his best not to look at her. He also tries to tune out her sniffling, which he finds increasingly aggravating the more he listens to it.

Despite his effort, he can't resist studying her. There are dark bags under her eyes, and her lips seem almost pale. He realizes, for the first time, that she'd lost some weight, her cheeks sunken in and collarbone prominent.

Sadie catches his gaze and he jumps in his seat.

"Why are you here?" she asks him. She sounds more composed than she looks.

Colin doesn't answer this.

"You can leave, if you want," she offers timidly. "I'll be okay."

Colin takes in a breath. "I'm not concerned about you." He says the word like it revolts him, the expression on his face souring almost immediately.

"Still," Sadie says, holding his gaze. "Thank you for being here."

"I'm not doing this for you or anything," Colin rushes out. "I don't really—care about—whatever. I'm just stuck here. Because of the rain, which is a bitch. The rain, I mean. And the pancakes—it'd be a waste if—I can't just—"

Sadie's brows furrow.

"Point is," he huffs, feeling his ears heat up. "I'm not here for you."

Colin swears he sees the change in her expression, the slight gleam of amusement that sparks in her eyes.

"What?" he snaps.

A small smile makes it way to her face. "Nothing."

"I mean it. I don't give a fuck."

"Okay."

Colin lets out an indignant breath. "I'm just waiting for the rain to let up."

"Yes," she says, "you've said that."

Something about her tone makes his ears prick. "You don't believe me? Why don't you take a fucking look outside and see how hard it's—" Colin cuts himself off, freezing when he sees a woman calmly walking past the shop.

His eyes survey the rest of the streets, squinting through the water-streaked glass. People are no longer waiting under shop awnings; no longer sprinting to get to wherever.

Sadie's fighting off a smile.

"It was! It really was. Raining hard. And I don't have an umbrella. And the pancakes."

"Colin," Sadie says. "I get it. But really—thank you. You've cheered me up a bit."

"I wasn't—"

"I know," she cuts him off. "It's just the rain. And the pancakes."

Colin narrows his eyes at her. He can't decide if he prefers seeing her cry over hearing the teasing lilt to her voice. He shoves the last piece of pancake left and slams the plate on the table, harder than he intended. The girl from the counter looks over.

Colin ducks his head in shame, shooting an apologetic look at her.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly says.

He blinks, not quite sure if he'd imagined the apology. The somber look he sees on Sadie's face says otherwise.

"I'm just—I'm not usually like this," she says. "I'm just—stupid. So stupid."

Her eyes are beginning to water again. Colin looks on in mild panic, caught between horror and irritation.

"Jesus fuck," she says, but it's only a soft murmur, reaching up to rub her temples. "I just want to go home and sleep to forget all about this night but I don't even have a home to go to. Which is just sad and pathetic and god I'm just so fucking tired."

"What?"

"It's okay," Sadie says, shooting him a forced smile. "I've survived all-nighters in coffee shops before."

"But don't you share a flat with Daniel?" he can't resist asking.

He has been hesitant on bringing him up. One reason being that he doesn't want her to think he wants to know what happened between them. The other being that he's afraid she'd burst into tears the moment the name was brought up.

Which she does. She tries to fight it, Colin knows, letting her eyes travel upward. She blinks rapidly, shaking her head. "I do," she replies. "Or I did. I don't know. I'm moving out."

"Tonight?"

"Yes? I don't know. I told him I was tired and I wanted to sleep and then he said we should go home but I couldn't—couldn't possibly go back there. So I told him to go without me and—"

"He just left you alone?"

"He didn't want to," Sadie rushes out, like she's defending him. "He kept insisting. Said he'd sleep on the couch. Or in the car. But I didn't want to and I told him no but he kept pushing and I raised my voice and told him to just fuck off and—" She cuts herself off, fending off another wave of tears.

The display makes him scowl. Something hot boils in his gut and he clenches his fist, glaring at Sadie. "Have you always been this stupid?"

Sadie looks at him with watery eyes and says nothing.

The Sadie he grew up with would never let anyone get away with calling her stupid, but this watered down version of her just accepts it.

This Sadie looks at him like she's apologizing.

For what, he's not sure, but Jesus Christ, how he fucking hates her for it.

"I'll be okay," Sadie says this like she's trying to convince herself. It doesn't sound very convincing to him. "I'll just go to Starbucks and spend the night there and—"

"Don't you have friends who can let you stay the night?"

Sadie looks away. "They live in the dorms."

"Then why the fuck did you let Daniel leave you here alone?"

Sadie doesn't say anything. She just sits there, quietly taking his shit, and Colin waits for her to fight back but she doesn't even step into the fucking ring and Colin hates winning by default even more than he hates losing.

Especially when it's Sadie.

Winning against Sadie is one of the most rewarding things ever because she would never in a million years let herself lose to anyone.

But now she just... sits there.

"Excuse me."

Colin's eyes snap to the direction of the voice. It's the girl from the counter, cautious and hesitant. She keeps a distance away, like she was worried Colin would suddenly lash out at her.

"We'll be closing in ten minutes," the girl says carefully, eyeing Colin warily before letting her eyes fall on Sadie. "Is there anything else I can get you? Water? Coffee?"

Colin looks around. The place is empty now except for them.

"We're good," he replies. "We'll be going soon."

The girl offers a polite smile and retreats.

Sadie's hands are on her temples again. Her eyes are closed, her brows knotted. She looks like a person who had just misplaced something important.

To him, it looked an awful lot like she'd misplaced herself.

He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. He sits there for who knows how long, glaring at her even though she couldn't really see him. Stupidity irritates him, and there's a fat load of that tonight. It makes him want to shoot himself in the mouth, especially when the solution his mind offers him goes against every rational thought in his mind.

Don't do it, he tells himself, tugging at his hair again. But then she looks up at him and her eyes say it all: she's tired and exhausted and pathetic and miserable and she looks this close to losing herself even more than she'd already had.

He lets out a curse and stands up. He looks at Sadie, but she doesn't move.

"Well?" he prompts.

And he hates himself. He really does. He could have just walked away and called it a day, but no. There he is, digging himself his own grave when he could just as easily leave and never look back.

"Are you coming or not?" he asks her.

Sadie shakes her head, her brows knotted. "What? Where?"

"Don't be stupid."

"What?"

"Home," he spits out. "I'm going home. I was thinking of letting you crash the night but you know what? Forget about it."

He turns away and walks ahead. He thinks he hears a chair scrape against the floor, but he fights the urge to look back. He exits the shop, placing his hands deep in his pocket. He refuses to check if she's following, speeding up his pace, trying to outrun his stupidity.

What had gotten into him?

Maybe stupidity was contagious.

He continues to walk, berating himself for every poorly made decision he's allowed himself to make tonight. He nearly steps into three puddles in his hurry to get away.

When he reaches a stoplight, he's forced to stop to let the cars pass.

It's then that he feels a tug at his jacket sleeve.

He knows it's Sadie before he even looks. She's panting hard, her hair wild and windblown. She's clutching at his sleeve like she's afraid he'd go without her. He tries to shake her off but she tightens her hold.

"Thank you," she says and the softness of her voice makes Colin freeze.

Her eyes are trained on the ground, but her sincerity is palpable, unmasked. Colin doesn't have to see them to know this. He lets out a breath and stops resisting.

"I still don't give a shit about you," he says. "In case you're getting the wrong idea."

"I'm not," she replies, and Colin can almost hear her smile.

Colin takes in a sharp breath but doesn't say anything more. Instead, he bites the insides of his cheek and looks away.

It's true, right? He doesn't give a shit. This is more an act of self-preservation, he thinks to himself. If something bad happened to Sadie while she's out wandering the streets, the guilt would consume him. And he wouldn't ever be able to face his friends back in Rivermount.

So, yeah.

He's not doing this for her.

The light changes, signaling the cars to stop and them to walk. Colin heaves another breath.

When he takes a step forward, Sadie follows suit, and together they walk into the night.

He remembers how lost she looks, how small she seems, and allows himself to think he's doing the right thing, navigating in the darkness for both of them, guiding her, albeit hesitantly, before she loses herself completely.

He doesn't think she can afford misplacing herself even further.

So he slows down his pace and matches hers until their feet fall into a similar rhythm, making sure, despite himself, that she won't be falling too far behind.