don't speak.

chapter twenty-five

Maria never showed up the next day like her note said she would – or the day after that, or even the next week. Soon enough I'd spent an entire month waiting around for the one person I thought who could understand me to come back; but with no avail. I'd had to convince myself she was living a better life – one where the streets were full of art and music – and that my life was better without her in it. I was reminded of what a life spent dependent on a substance was like and I promised myself I'd never become like that. Maya Hart is not dependent on anything but herself.

Not anymore at least.

Still, I pulled out a cigarette from my pocket and lit it as I sat down on the same steps Maria and I sat on weeks ago. I convinced myself I wasn't relying on the addictive – that I didn't need it because I wasn't getting a high from it. That it was just something to bring me down to earth when I started to float away.

When it was time to go back inside I snubbed out the cigarette on the pavement and pulled out a pack of Mentos for two reasons - the first being that no one likes to smell tar and nicotine on a person, and the second being to fan the flames of desperation. Of control. If I went long enough without eating anything I'd just stop being hungry and start sleeping away the days and this defeats the purpose of using hunger as a motive to keep control. So in the most ironic sense, I was eating to stay hungry. But I was also eating to stay awake.

I sprinted up the stairs into the main hallway of the school, clutching onto the rail once I got up. Gravity was a lot stronger than I remembered it being. Every step I took felt like I was trudging through sludge, urging the muddled sounds of other people away from me.

I slogged the rest of the way to class, a heat starting to rise up and flush my face. When I got to class I let my backpack fall with a thud on the floor, feeling too exhausted to set it down properly. I was absolutely shattered – now more than ever – but I was here. And awake. And surviving. And that's all I could really do anymore. I took my seat and tugged down on the sleeves of the soft blue sweater I was wearing over my clothes. It used to fit perfectly, now it lay limp on my shoulders in a vain attempt to cover up the fact that I had bones jutted out at every angle.

Lucas slid into the seat next to mine and I tried to ignore him, putting my head in my hands. I didn't have the energy for a fight.

"Maya we're all worried about you." He spoke gently as Riley hovered near by, either trying to listen in or waiting to reclaim her seat. The world was spinning; I didn't have the time for this. "Maya, I'm worried about you."

"And everyone voted you to tell me this?" I shook my head in my hands, gulping down the oncoming feeling of darkness that started edged its way into my vision. "You lost any right to be worried about me when you decided to trust Liam and not me. Because of you my assailant-" I couldn't finish my argument as I blinked hard to try to refocus myself.

"You know we all care about you; this is so much more-"

I couldn't hear what he said next, everything was muffled and I forced myself to stand, as the feeling of lost control edged further into me. The heat burned through me and I couldn't see anything but a bright white. I could feel people moving around me, their motions rippling over me like water. But I felt heavy, and weighted to the ground with a ton of bricks on my chest.

"I'm fine." I choked out, not realizing I had collapsed to the ground. I moved to say it again but the weight was so strong I let the invisible bricks crush my chest. The pressure built up until it was unbearable – and then there was nothing.

Nothing but darkness.

Darkness and peace.

-

When my eyes fluttered open I was in a bright room with a tube running down my nose and a needle prodded into my arm. My skin looked transparent, and veiny. But I wasn't surprised by any of this – it was like I had noticed this before. There was something over my hand and I struggled to lift myself to see what it was. Lucas looked up from where he was sitting, his hand clutching onto mine as if otherwise it'd slip away, with red eyes that made me want to immediately go to him. But I stopped myself. He was nothing more than a bad habit to me now.

"Don't get up." He cooed. He lifted up my hand and kissed the back of it. I wanted to pull my hand away but I was exhausted, and I felt so small. I raised my eyebrows at him, not feeling powerful enough to talk.

"You were out for three days Maya." I think I saw his lower lip quiver, but that was probably just my ego hoping he'd sob over me. "You've been in and out a little all day today." He smiled as he kept my hand close to his face. He pressed his lips against the palm of my hand, but he felt so warm. It was only then that I realized how cold I was.

"I called Washington. I told them I didn't want to go to a school that put accusations above actual people. Farkle did the same, he said you're still the same girl he wrote about – if not stronger. We... we all missed you so much we didn't even see you slipping away. But we're all here for you." I muster up enough strength to pull my hand from his. Letting it fall to the sheets with a thud. They're here for me. None of them gave a damn when I was dying to stay alive but once I started to stop living? Oh, they'd drop everything. Surely because I was so important.

"Maya none of us wanted to leave you – we didn't have a choice." His eyes are so sunken in I started to wonder if he'd slept at all during those three days.

"Not your choice?" I surprised myself at the rawness of my voice, "You always have a choice. You could have told me you couldn't see me in public we could've worked around it.'

"Maya," Lucas rest his head on the arm of the bed, his voice dropping to a low but persistent whisper, "Liam came after our families. They threatened Mr. and Mrs. Matthews jobs, they hacked into Minkus International, they came after my family's history. They were following us. They bugged Zay's phone at one point. Liam's dad is a powerful man who doesn't want to see his son go to jail for this. We were told what to say to you, we couldn't just tell you."

It was selfish, but I couldn't help thinking – was it worth it? Was it a fair trade to swap me – my sanity, my dignity, my life – for some jobs, money, and a reputation? Lucas stood up and reached over to me, leaning in for a kiss, to which I turned my head.

"I'm not leaving you now." He pulled his chair closer to the bed and kissed the back of my hand again and I felt myself soften. "Not ever again. Nothing is worth losing you." I turned away from him at first, my stubbornness getting ahead of me. But I could feel his eyes on me, and for some reason it made me feel safe. I pulled my hand back from his, Lucas standing up immediately to try to help me when I fought to move to a single side of the narrow bed,

"Come here." I patted down on the unoccupied side of the bed, "I'm cold." The corner of his mouth twitched up into a nervous smile for a moment,

"Alright," He lowered the railing on his side so he'd be able to join me, "But I'm doing this because I want to not because you want me to." He quoted me from our brief time at the diner while he moved in beside me, carefully putting one arm behind me as I curled up into him, drifting back off to sleep.