someone to stay, ⁹¹¹

𝟎𝟑𝟑.

JJ's sneakers hit the sidewalk harder than she meant to.

The night air clung damp and heavy to her skin, and the music she'd left blasting in her room still pulsed faintly in her ears, like a reminder that she wasn't supposed to be here.

She wasn't supposed to be walking toward Ashton's house, her hoodie sleeves shoved over her trembling hands. Her dad thought she was upstairs in the shower.
And here she was, sneaking through the quiet streets toward the boy who had ruined everything.

She wasn't here to see him. Not really. She was here to warn him. She was here to tell him it was over.

She repeated it like a prayer with every step.

By the time she reached his house, her throat felt raw, her palms damp. His parents' SUV wasn't in the driveway. Of course it wasn't. They were probably in some other state, or country, pretending their son wasn't poisoning kids with pills and other drugs.

Pretending he was just another perfect, golden boy.

How fucking wrong they were.

JJ stood at the edge of the driveway for a long moment, staring at the looming two-story house. The windows glowed soft yellow. She could see the flicker of a TV screen against the curtains.

She almost turned back.

Instead, she forced herself forward, knocking once before pushing the door open. He always left it unlocked for her.

The smell hit her first, sharp, pungent, thick. Weed. It clung to every wall, seeped into the expensive leather couch, the rugs that probably cost more than her dad's truck and her Jeep combined.

Ashton was sprawled on the couch, a joint hanging from his fingers. "Well, well," he drawled, sitting up. "Look who couldn't stay away."

JJ froze in the doorway. "We need to talk."

His grin widened. "That sounds serious." He patted the seat beside him. "Come here."

She didn't move.

Ashton's expression flickered, the grin faltering for a second. He flicked ash into the tray, leaning back. "Alright, talk then."

JJ swallowed hard, her throat tight. "The cops know."

That got his attention. He sat forward, brows furrowed, the joint forgotten in his hand immediately. "What?"

"My dad called Athena." Her voice shook, but she forced the words out. "She's a sergeant with the LAPD. They know about you. About the pills. You need to stop."

She'd probably regret admitting it was her dad later on, but right now, she was more focused on the look in his eyes and the tremble in her fingers.

The silence between them was heavy. The hum of the TV filled it, some mindless action scene flashing across the screen. Ashton's eyes darkened, hardening like glass.

"You told them?" His voice was low, dangerous.

JJ shook her head quickly. "No. I didn't. But my dad... he knew. And now Athena knows." She swallowed her stutter. "You need to stop before—"

"Before what? Before I get caught?" His laugh was sharp, humourless.

He shoved off the couch and crossed the room in two strides, standing in front of her. He smelled like smoke and cologne, the combination making her stomach twist.

"You're just trying to scare me," he muttered, searching her face. "Because you don't like how much you need me."

JJ's chest tightened. "I don't need you."