Young Adults

CHAPTER 22

(Y/n) sat awkwardly at the dinner table, her fork idly nudging a piece of overcooked broccoli across her plate. The room was too quiet—eerily so, save for the occasional clink of silverware against ceramic. Her parents were equally stiff in their chairs, clearly trying to act normal but failing spectacularly.

Caidence, blissfully unaware of the tension swirling around the table, swung her legs under her seat and hummed softly to herself between bites. (Y/n) silently envied her younger sister. If only she could be that oblivious—cheerfully disconnected from the awkwardness eating away at the room.

All of it had started less than an hour ago.

~~~

She'd arrived home later than expected. Just a little—nothing outrageous. But apparently, it was long enough to sound alarm bells. Her father, assuming she'd missed the bus, had already grabbed his keys and stepped out to go retrieve her from school.

What he found instead... was Levi.

A boy.

And in his eyes—not just any boy. A "troublemaker."

(Y/n) would never forget the sharp sound of her father's boots stomping the wooden porch, then the sudden halt as he spotted them in front of the house—only to find Levi standing at the curb, a single rose extended toward her.

Her father's voice had sliced through the moment like a blade.

"Excuse you? Who are you?" His gaze snapped to her, narrowing. "(Y/n), have you been with him this whole time?"

The blood rushed to her face so fast she thought she might faint on the spot.

"Uh—Levi," she stammered, flustered and horrified. "You... you might wanna leave. Th-thank you for the ride home—"

"Ride home?" her father echoed, incredulous, voice rising with every syllable. "You got a ride from him?"

Just then, the front door creaked open.

"Oh, hello there!" her mother called out cheerfully, stepping out onto the porch. Her smile faltered slightly as she looked between her daughter, the rose, and the boy beside her. "What's going on?"

Her father turned to her mother immediately, dropping his voice to a gruff whisper—but not low enough to avoid being overheard. "Our daughter was just dropped off by a boy. Alone. In his car."

The weight of the word alone hung in the air like storm clouds.

Levi, sharp as ever, sensed the growing tension. He didn't flinch, didn't rise to defend himself. He just looked at (Y/n) and gave a small nod.

"See you tomorrow."

His tone was calm. Unshaken.

Hands pocketed, he turned on his heel and strode back toward the car. The engine roared to life with an almost defiant growl—startling both of her parents into silence for a split second.

And then—he was gone.

Down the street, swallowed by dusk and distance. The only sign he'd been there at all was the rose still clutched in (Y/n)'s hand.

She stood at the base of the patio steps now, hesitant. Her feet moved slowly, the wood creaking beneath her as she climbed each step, pausing just before the last one.

Her eyes lifted to her parents.

Her father's expression was stone cold. Arms crossed, jaw tight.

Her mother, meanwhile, was zeroed in on the rose in her hand. The corners of her mouth twitched slightly—though whether it was a frown or something else, (Y/n) couldn't quite tell.