The Silicon Valley Connection

12 | aidan - print ('all the scars we cannot see')

There are crescent-shaped nail marks in my palms to keep my anger under control, but I didn't dare to interrupt her with questions during the story or even after.

So instead, I moved closer to where she sat on top of the conference table and brought her chest to mine, resting my chin on her head.

I clear my throat. "Faith? Do you know where you are right now?"

A small shudder ripples through her body, and my grip remains firm but gentle.

"In...the principal's office?"

"Not quite. You're far from that place. I know this feeling is frightening, but I want you to know that you're safe. Right here. Right now. We're gonna focus on your breathing together, okay?"

Her once tense posture slackens in my embrace, and she tentatively envelopes her arms around me. The minimal movement on my shirt responds in the form of a head nod.

"You're not going anywhere?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here."

For as long as you need me to.

"Ready?"

Another tiny head nod.

"10...breathe in." Our chests rise. "9...breathe out." Our chests fall. "8...breathe in. 7...breathe out. 6...breathe in. 5...breathe out. 4...breathe in. 3...breathe out. 2...breathe in..."

She joins me verbally on the last exhale.

"1...breathe out."

I pull away and hold her chin in my hands, wiping a lingering tear with my thumb. "Thank you for trusting me."

She smiles weakly. "Thank you for listening."

Slinging her book bag on my shoulder, I reach for her hand, and its trembling begins to cease; my fingers slowly massage her knuckles, and a slight weight bears on my bicep with her head resting on it while we walk to our dorms in silence.

But this time, it's not awkward, not tense, but reassuring. An "I'm here for you" silence...yeah, that's the way to describe it.

Little did I know, I merely cracked the surface.

hunter

By his enraged expression, it's safe to assume she told him about that day, and I brace myself for impact.

aidan

My roommate couldn't even get in the usual "hey" when I stormed through the door. I stalk past Marcus and over to my brother to ram my forearm up his chest, pinning him against the wall. He may be two inches taller, but I'm ironically stronger than him. Nightly MMA classes can do so many wonders.

My tone immediately turns cold. "You idiotic asshole. Why in your God-given mind did you think that was okay?"

He sneers. "My perfect little brother is attempting to be the hero. She needs to get over it, considering she seemed to be doing quite well, in my opinion...I saw you two at The Coffee Press earlier today." He winks and gives me a complacent smile.

God, I hate that smirk. My forearm presses into him harder.

"Don't even try to act innocent with me. I may wear glasses, but I don't need them to know how much of a hypocritical bastard you are. Threatening someone's life is not something you can just 'get over,' that kind of shit can damage someone. Your ass should've been expelled, but knowing dad, he definitely paid the administration, to not ruin his first born's reputation."

He scoffs. "The least she could've done was call me, not send it over a damn text message."

"The least you could've done was your fucking work, and you wouldn't have gotten a text, let alone a call," I spit back. "Your temper is worse than mine, so in my opinion, she did right by sending it through messages."

"My temper is worse? So says the person who has me pinned to a damn wall."

"Yeah, and your fucking point? I have every damn right to. But for once, I'm glad dad put us in separate high schools because I would've been suspended along with you...for beating your ass."

The cracking of knuckles and a melodramatic cough sounds from the opposite side of the room. "Wait a minute. Please tell me you are not talking about who I think you are."

I flash Marcus a warning look, and he hesitates before backing off.

"You should check in with Faith first. I can handle this."

I understand he's itching to see this outcome, but after seeing Faith like that, I make a mental promise that there would be no one who would ever make her feel as shitty as my brother did...again. Because I know personally how dark your own thoughts can get. Sometimes, you just end up hitting your breaking point.

Literally.

My fist met his face with a left hook.

marcus

A loud thump and exchanges of grunts sound from my dorm as soon as I reach to knock on the girls' door, and I immediately pivot back around.

Faith has her roommates. I'm sure she'll be okay. I swing open the door and just as I suspected, Aidan and Hunter were on opposite sides of the room, both clutching their sides and sucking in shallow breaths. They definitely scrambled to pretend they weren't in a fight under a minute ago.

These two are so lucky our suitemates are not back yet. Blood trails down the bridge of Aidan's nose, where a narrow gash rests and a small but swelling bump forms just under his right eye, which will, no doubt, leave nasty scars and bruises. Lucky for him though, he's better off than Hunter is. A severely busted lip and a glass-shattering crack sounds when he repositions his nasal and shoulder bones. I keep a judging eye on him, who shoves past me and slams the door on his way out.

Aidan scoffs, and I shake my head in disappointment. He rolls his shoulders, bones also cracking in places I didn't even know was affected.

"Feel better?" I ask.

He wipes at a new trail of blood dripping down his nose with the sleeve of his tee. "Much better."