The Boy in the Shadows

11

"Mitch?" I look up at Scott as we walk into Starbucks. But he's not looking at me. He's frozen, staring at a table near the far wall of the cafe. When I follow his gaze, my breath catches in my throat. There he is. Travis Bush. I stop walking.

"We should leave." Scott shakes his head, walking toward Travis. I grab his arm. "Scott. He's not worth it. Come on." After a few more seconds, he finally gives in, allowing me to pull him out of the building and back toward his car. But when I hear footsteps on the sidewalk behind us, my heart sinks. He saw us and he fucking followed us. Before I can stop him, Scott spins around, glaring at Travis, who just grins.

"Leave us the hell alone, Bush." Travis extends a hand to Scott.

"Hello, Scott. It's nice to finally meet you." His voice is dripping with venom. When Scott refuses to shake his hand, he withdraws it. "When I saw you," he adds, turning to me. "I just had to come say hi. When you left, I was so shocked." I don't say anything, instead staring fearfully at Travis's cruel face. "I know you'll come back to me soon." He steps toward me, that evil smirk never leaving his face. But before he can get any closer, Scott steps between us.

"How about you wait in the car?" Although he says it as a question, I know he expects me to do it. Wordlessly, I start to turn away, but a hand closes around my arm. I turn around, eyes wide, to see Travis's fingers digging into my skin. Before I can react, Scott's fist is connecting with Travis's face, knocking him back. But Travis doesn't let go as quickly as I hoped. He keeps holding on just long enough that the force of him falling back drags me down, and I fall onto the concrete, barely managing to stick my hands out to stop my face from hitting the ground. Pain shoots through my palms, and I let out a soft cry. "Mitchy!" Scott kneels down beside me, sliding his arms under me. "Let's go." I roll my eyes at him.

"You don't have to carry me. I just skinned my hands, that's all." He doesn't react to my words, instead setting me in the passengers' seat of his car.

---

"Let me see your hands." I hold them out, palms up, and Scott takes a damp cloth and starts to clean them up. I let out a his at the stinging sensation. "I'm so sorry, baby. You're hurt, and it's all my fault." He starts to tear up. "God, I feel awful."

"Sweetheart, listen. I'm fine. I just got a little scraped up. And it's not like you did it on purpose. You were only trying to protect me." He looks down. "And you did. I have no idea what Travis would've done if you weren't there. I'm not made of glass. I'm not broken beyond repair. Just a tiny bit bloody." I lean toward him, kissing him on the cheek. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I would never forgive myself if I ever let you get hurt again," he murmurs, his gaze meeting mine.

"I know, baby. Please, just know that my pain is never your fault." He runs a hand through his gorgeous blond hair.

"But I've hurt you so much. Remember the day after Pentatonix performed for the first time, and we got in that fight? Then a few weeks later when I grabbed you and yelled at you, and you were so, so, terrified. And I never should've left you for college, and when I got back, I was so fucking cruel-" I hold up my hands, cutting him off.

"Scotty, listen to me. We've both made mistakes. We've both done things that hurt each other. And that's normal. We're only human. We can't be perfect. And the only thing that matters is that we love each other. It's not your fault, angel. I promise."