Page 56 of Before We Were

"Ollie's a big talker but he's a teddy bear. Don't tell him I said that." We resume walking. "And if we're being honest, I think he likes you too. Also don't tell him I said that."

Her eyes widen. "Really?"

"Ollie's one of the good ones. Though he might drive you insane sometimes, he'd do anything for people he cares about."

It’s true.

Ollie should be worrying about typical freshman things but this year transformed him. Ollie's mind constantly races with scenarios most people his age haven't considered. Where once he shrugged off life's minor inconveniences he now meticulously analyzes every possibility. I’ve watched my brother closely and noticed the way his heart races at unexpected texts, how he checks his bank balance three times daily, and how he calls home every night just to make sure everyone is still breathing.

Sometimes when I look at him, I see glimpses of the carefree brother I knew before. But those moments are fleeting, like sunshine between storm clouds. At eighteen, he's carrying worries that shouldn't belong to him.

Mia’s voice cuts through my spiralling thoughts.

“That means a lot coming from you. I wanted to be upfront because I don't want things to get weird between us."

"My brother deserves to be happy after the year we've had. And not that you need my approval, but if you want it, you've got it."

Her smile says more than words could.

We walk in comfortable silence before she asks, "Hey... are you okay? Like, really okay?"

For a moment, I consider telling her everything. But the words catch in my throat. "I'm fine," I lie, forcing a smile. "Just been thinking about a new story idea."

She links her arm through mine. "I'd love to hear about it whenever you're ready."

As we continue down the street, gratitude mingles with relief in my chest. Mia's presence, her genuine concern—it feels real, not fabricated. Maybe someday I could tell her everything. But for now, discussing my potential story feels like enough. I tell her about Alfie and Gracie, the scholarship, even Dad. The whole time, I can't help but think this is what friendship should feel like—being seen, being heard, feeling, even briefly, like you're normal again.

CHAPTER17

LADS DAY OUT

NATE

Six days clean.Yeah, I'm counting.

Ever since that night at the beach I haven't touched a single drug. Not one. It’s the longest I’ve been sober in… fuck. I don’t even know.

The withdrawal was a special kind of hell—sweating through sheets, puking my guts out when no one was looking, hiding the shakes. But something about her eyes that night, wide with fear and disappointment, hit harder than any comedown.

This morning feels different though—there's a whisper of something I'd almost forgotten:hope.

My mind has been a war zone for as long as I can remember. Thoughts aren't just thoughts when they've haunted you long enough. They transform into nooses—fashioned from your own memories, woven tight with regret. They dangle in the corners of your mind, patient, always waiting for those quiet moments when you think you might be free. Then they tighten, one by one, choking out any hope of silence.

That's the thing about the noise in your head—it's not just sound. It's a physical thing, wrapped around your throat, your chest, your future. Doesn't matter how many times you've heard the accusations, felt the shame. The rope just gets stronger with every loop of the same old shit.

That's why I started popping pills in the first place. One hit and bam—blessed fucking silence.

No more voices.

No more replaying every single screwup in surround sound.

Just... nothing.

But nothing isn't living.

And Nora's face that night—Christ, I can't shake it. The way she backed away from me, like I was some stranger she'd never seen before. Like everything between us had been a lie. And maybe it had been. Maybe I'd been lying to both of us about who I really am.

So six days.

---