The Golden Boy

13-An Unexpected Find

The rest of the day passed in a blur. After Liam left, I just sat there for a while, staring out at nothing, trying to shake the weight of his words. I knew he was right-hell, I knew everyone was right. But hearing it from him, from someone who had always had my back, hit differently. It made it all feel real in a way I wasn't ready to deal with.

By the time I got back to the house, it was late afternoon. I hadn't bothered to check my phone again, not after turning it off earlier. I figured Lila had probably sent a dozen more messages, and I wasn't ready to face those either.

I parked my car in the driveway and sat there for a moment, the engine ticking as it cooled. Everything felt so heavy, like there was this pressure building inside me that I couldn't escape. It was suffocating.

I leaned my head back, closing my eyes, trying to calm the storm raging in my mind. But even with my eyes closed, the world wouldn't stop spinning. I reached into the glove compartment without thinking, my fingers brushing against the small plastic bag hidden inside. I pulled it out, staring down at the white powder, the answer to everything right in my hands.

I knew I shouldn't. I knew that. But knowing didn't make it any easier.

The sound of someone tapping on my window jolted me from my thoughts. My heart leapt into my throat, and I scrambled to hide the bag, shoving it back into the glove compartment before I turned to see who it was.

Lila stood there, her face half-hidden by the sunlight, but I could see the worry etched across her features.

Shit.

I rolled down the window, forcing a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Hey," I said, my voice too casual. "What are you doing here?"

She gave me a look, one that said she wasn't buying my act for a second. "I came by to check on you. You haven't been answering my calls." Her voice was soft, but there was an edge to it-an edge that told me she was done with my excuses.

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came. "Yeah, sorry about that. Been a little out of it."

"A little?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Ryder, you've been completely MIA. What's going on with you?"

I opened my mouth to brush it off, to give her the same excuse I'd given everyone else, but I couldn't. Not with her standing there, her eyes searching mine like she was looking for something she could hold onto. Something real.

Instead, I just shrugged. "It's nothing. Just... stuff."

Lila sighed, crossing her arms. "You keep saying that, but you're not giving me anything, Ryder. I'm worried about you. Everyone is."

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. I hated this. Hated that I was making her feel like this. Hated that I couldn't be the guy she thought I was. The guy I used to be.

"I'm fine," I said, the words hollow even as they left my mouth.

Lila stared at me for a long moment, her eyes narrowing slightly. Then, without a word, she moved around to the passenger side of the car, pulling on the door handle.

"Hey, wait-" I started, but it was too late. She opened the door and slid into the seat beside me, her movements determined, like she wasn't going to leave until I gave her something real.

For a second, I panicked. The glove compartment was right there. All she had to do was reach over, and everything I'd been hiding would come crashing down around me.

"Lila, I-"

She held up a hand, cutting me off. "Don't. Don't try to push me away right now."

I could hear the frustration in her voice, the hurt. And it made my chest tighten in a way that was almost unbearable.

We sat there in silence for a few moments, the tension between us thick enough to choke on. I could feel her looking at me, waiting for me to say something. But I couldn't. I didn't know how.

"I just want to understand," she said finally, her voice soft again. "I want to help you, Ryder, but you're shutting me out. And I don't know how much longer I can keep trying if you won't let me in."

Her words cut deeper than anything Liam had said. Because I knew she meant it. She wasn't just angry or frustrated-she was hurt. And it was my fault.

I stared down at the steering wheel, my hands gripping it so hard my knuckles turned white. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me, and for a second, I thought about telling her. About letting it all out. About the drugs, the pressure, the way everything felt like it was spiraling out of control.

But then she moved.

Lila reached toward the glove compartment, her fingers brushing against the handle. My heart stopped.

"No!" The word exploded out of me before I could stop it. I grabbed her wrist, probably a little harder than I meant to, and she flinched, her eyes going wide with shock.

"Ryder, what-"

But it was too late. In one swift motion, she pulled the glove compartment open, and the small plastic bag fell out, landing in her lap like some kind of cruel punchline.

Lila's eyes widened as she stared down at it, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn't quite process what she was seeing. For a few seconds, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. The silence in the car was deafening.

Finally, she looked up at me, her face pale, her voice barely a whisper. "Ryder... what is this?"

I didn't have an answer. Or maybe I did, but it was lodged in my throat, choking me. All I could do was sit there, frozen, as the reality of everything I'd been hiding came crashing down in front of us.

Lila's hand trembled as she held the bag up, her eyes filled with a mixture of confusion, hurt, and something else I couldn't quite place. "How long?" she asked, her voice cracking. "How long have you been doing this?"

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. The truth was too heavy, too dark, too real.

"Ryder..." she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I looked away, unable to meet her gaze. Because I couldn't tell her. I couldn't explain why I had let it get this far. All I knew was that I was sinking, and I didn't know how to stop.

Lila's breath hitched, and I could hear the betrayal in her voice. "I thought I knew you."

The weight of her words crushed me, but all I could do was sit there in the wreckage of my lies, watching the girl I cared about see me for who I really was.

And I hated myself for it.