Chapter 15 - Chapter 15: Echoes in the Hallways

Monday morning hit like cold water.Alex stood in front of his locker, hoodie pulled low, backpack slung over one shoulder. The hallway buzzed with the usual chaos—lockers slamming, laughter spiking, sneakers squeaking on polished tile. He hadn't been back to school since the warehouse. Three days of "stomach flu" excuses, three days curled in bed with Elena while the world outside kept turning.Now it felt alien.He spun the combination wrong twice before the locker finally popped open."Hey, ghost."The voice came from his left—familiar, teasing, edged with something sharper than usual.Jake Harlan—best friend since third grade, track teammate, the guy who'd once helped Alex bury a dead goldfish in the backyard with full military honors—leaned against the neighboring locker, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised."You alive or what? Coach said you've been dodging practice like it's the plague."Alex forced a half-smile. "Feeling better."Jake studied him—too long, too hard. "You look like shit, man. Like… actual shit. Not the 'I ate bad tacos' kind. The 'something's eating you' kind."Before Alex could deflect, another voice cut through the noise—higher, softer, achingly familiar."Alex?"Lila Monroe pushed through a knot of freshmen, backpack bouncing against her hip. Childhood friend. First crush. The girl who used to braid dandelions into crowns and declare him her knight when they were six. Now seventeen, she still had the same wide hazel eyes, the same freckles across her nose, the same way of tucking hair behind her ear when she was nervous.She stopped a foot away—close enough he could smell her vanilla shampoo, far enough he felt the distance like a wall."You've been gone," she said quietly. "I texted. Like… a lot."Alex winced. His phone had been on Do Not Disturb since Friday. Forty-seven unread messages from her alone."Sorry. Was sick."She searched his face—same way Jake had, but gentler. Sadder."You sure that's all?"Before he could answer, a shoulder slammed into his back—hard enough to knock his books to the floor."Oops. Didn't see you there, Thompson."Dylan Voss—six-foot-two, linebacker build, perpetual smirk—stepped over the scattered notebooks like they were trash. His two shadows (Caleb and Trey) snickered behind him."Still moping 'cause Mommy's too busy spreading for the neighborhood to pack your lunch?" Dylan leaned in, voice low. "Heard she's got quite the reputation now. Bet half the dads on the block know what she tastes like."Alex's stomach lurched.Jake stepped forward instantly—chest out, jaw tight."Back the fuck off, Voss."Dylan laughed—cold, sharp. "Relax, Harlan. Just making conversation. Everyone's talking about it. Your boy's mom is basically the block bicycle. Wonder if he gets a free ride."Alex's hands curled into fists.Lila's eyes went wide—shock, then something darker."Shut up, Dylan," she snapped. "You're disgusting."Dylan shrugged. "Truth hurts, princess. Ask around. Half the football team's already had a turn—or so the rumors say."He sauntered off, entourage trailing laughter.The hallway noise rushed back in—too loud, too bright.Jake bent to help gather Alex's books. "Ignore him. He's full of shit."But Alex saw it in Jake's eyes—doubt. The same doubt flickering in Lila's.They didn't know the half of it.And that was worse.Lunch period found the three of them at their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria—far from the popular crowd, close to the emergency exit.Jake tore into a burger like it owed him money.Lila picked at a salad, fork pushing lettuce around in endless circles.Alex stared at his untouched tray.Finally Jake set the burger down."Okay. Enough. Spill."Alex didn't look up. "Nothing to spill.""Bullshit." Jake leaned forward. "You disappear for days. Come back looking like death warmed over. Dylan's dropping nukes about your mom. And you're just… sitting there. Like you're waiting for the floor to swallow you."Lila reached across the table—hesitant—covered Alex's hand with hers."Alex… if something's wrong… you can tell us. You've always told us everything."He looked at her hand—small, warm, freckled.Remembered the way those same fingers used to hold his when they crossed busy streets as kids.Remembered the way he'd once dreamed of kissing her under the bleachers after homecoming.Now those dreams felt like someone else's life.He pulled his hand back—gentle, but firm."I'm fine."Lila's eyes shimmered.Jake exhaled hard through his nose."Fine. Don't talk. But don't expect us to pretend everything's normal when it's clearly not."The bell rang.Jake stood. "Track after school. Coach said if you skip again he's benching you for regionals. Your call."He walked out.Lila stayed.She waited until the cafeteria mostly emptied.Then—quiet, almost a whisper:"I heard things too. Not just Dylan. Girls in my chem class. They said… your mom's been seen leaving different houses. Late at night. Wearing… not much."Alex's jaw clenched.Lila swallowed."Is it true?"He met her eyes.Saw the girl who used to believe he could do anything.Saw the girl who might still believe it—if he let her.He could lie.He could tell her it was all rumors.He could keep the wall up.Instead he said—soft, steady:"Yeah. It's true."Lila blinked—once, twice.Tears welled but didn't fall.She nodded slowly."Okay."Just that."Okay."She stood."I still care about you, Alex. A lot. Whatever's happening… I'm not going anywhere. But I need you to talk to me. Really talk. When you're ready."She walked away—back straight, shoulders squared, the way she used to when she was scared but refused to show it.Alex sat alone until the next period bell.After school he went to track.Coach Daniels gave him a long look—knowing, almost amused—then nodded toward the track."Four laps warm-up. Then hurdles. Don't half-ass it, Thompson."Alex ran.Pushed until his lungs burned.Pushed until the shame and hunger and confusion blurred into muscle memory and sweat.Jake ran beside him—silent at first.On the third lap he finally spoke."Whatever it is… you don't have to carry it alone."Alex didn't answer.Just kept running.When practice ended he showered fast—avoided the mirrors, avoided Coach's eyes—and walked home.Elena was waiting on the porch swing—jeans and soft sweater, hair in a messy bun, looking so normal it hurt.She stood when she saw him."How was school?"He stopped at the bottom step."People know."She nodded—slow, unsurprised."How much?""Enough."She came down. Took his backpack. Set it aside.Cupped his face with both hands."You're shaking."He was.She pulled him into her arms—tight, fierce."I'm sorry," she whispered. "I never wanted this to touch your world."He buried his face in her shoulder."It already has."She held him tighter."Then we face it together."She kissed his temple."Tonight… just us. No one else. No plans. No visitors. Just you and me. Dinner. Movie. Bed. I want to hold my boy without anyone else between us."Alex exhaled—shaky, relieved."Okay."She smiled—small, real."Come inside."He followed.The door closed behind them.For the first time in weeks the house felt safe.Not clean.Not innocent.But safe.And for tonight—that was enough.