Page 48 of Fault Line

“In here,” he responds from down the hall, and I make my way toward his bedroom. He’s sitting there on the edge of his bed, staring intently at his phone. I take a moment to study him, taking in the bags under his eyes and the general exhaustion etched onto his features.

This isn’t going to be easy for either of us.

“Hey,” I say softly, trying to keep my voice steady.

He glances up, expression guarded. “What’s goin’ on, Kai?”

I clear the rasp from my voice, feeling the words stick in my throat. “I just wanted to talk to you about something. Something important.”

“I gathered as much from your text.” He sets his phone down on the nightstand, giving me his full attention. “So, what is it? You okay?”

“I’m just worried about you, E,” I say, scratching nervously at the back of my neck. “You’ve been skipping classes more often. And you haven’t been replying to me all week.”

“Just been busy.”

I give him a skeptical look. “Okay, well, I just . . . I’m gonna come right out and ask. You aren’t using again, are you?”

He flinches at my words, his posture visibly tense. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, I’m not trying to accuse you of anything,” I say firmly. “I know work’s been really hard on you lately, and I’m just worried about how you’re coping.”

“Nothing like that’s been going on,” he assures me, his voice soft and quiet. “You know I’d come to you if I was having problems again.”

“Would you, though?” I ask, my tone pointed.

“Is that not what we agreed on?”

“Yeah, of course it is. But after class last Monday, Becker mentioned how strung out you—”

He scoffs, cutting me off. “Wow, I get it now. You’re buying into his bullshit?”

Irritation bubbles up inside me. “This has nothing to do with him. I’m worried about you, El. Beck just mentioned that you’ve been looking more strung out than usual, that’s it.”

He shakes his head, swiping a ragged hand over his face. “Nothing is wrong, Kaia. I’ve been missing classes because I’m tired and strung out from work.”

Unease settles in the pit of my stomach. “Okay. I’m sorry,” I say, trying to keep the frustration out of my tone. “I really wish you didn’t have to work so hard.”

“It’s a job, Kaia,” he says sadly. “And I have bills to pay. You think I like doing what I do?”

“I know you don’t,” I say gently. “And I’m sorry you’re in that position. I’m here for you, you know.”

Always have been and always will be. It’s been this way between us since we were eight years old, when we were just two kids who didn’t know any better, forced to be friends through our older siblings. And then, when we were teenagers, we both made decisions that pushed us even closer. The wrong decisions, but they’ve led us here today—together, at Coastal—exactly where we were meant to be.

“I know. And I’m here for you, too.” He flattens his palms over his thighs, his eyes flashing with discomfort. “But I also don’t understand this whole thing you have going on with Becker. What happened to you thinking he’s just some privileged dickhead?”

“I still think that,” I say with a half chuckle. “But he’s agreed to help me in a way that you can’t.”

“Ah. So, it’sjustsex between you guys, then?” he asks, his voice softening slightly.

“Yeah,” I confirm with a nod, a small twinge of guilt settling in the depths of my stomach. “Just sex.”

* * *

Once I makeit back to campus, my phone rings in my pocket, signaling an incoming call from Sofia. It’s the third time she’s attempted to reach me this week. Part of me wants to ignore the call—I have enough going on without having to deal with her right now—but I know she’ll just keep trying until I answer.

So, I swipe to accept. “Hey, Sof.”

“Hey, you,” she chirps back. “How’s my favorite little sister doing?”

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