A/N: Tune for the chapter—"White Balloons" by Sick Puppies.

Levi told me to stay at my parent's for a few hours. It's been three weeks.

It isn't his fault. He didn't change the locks and tell me to never come back. I've just been too ashamed to.

Then again, he hasn't reached out, either.

My parents, especially my mom, like having me home. I can see the worry on their faces every time I enter the room, though. They won't verbally ask me what's wrong, but I can tell it's what they're thinking.

Despite the unfortunate circumstances, it's been nice having the quality time with Bowie and Evangeline. The way he is with her... well, there's nothing else like it. He reminds me of the fun uncle who disregards the parents and gives the child whatever they wish for. She adores him, too. Whenever he comes home from work—he got a job as a dishwasher at a local diner since officially withdrawing from college—her eyes light up. She doesn't hug him—since Raelyn's death, the only person I've seen her hug is Alma—or even utter a word, but the expression on her face says it all.

Presently, as I sit in the front room and watch him chase her around, a cup of coffee in my hands and a blanket on my lap, I feel a bit melancholy. In a way, Raelyn's death has brought us all together. My parents love having a "real kid" in the house. Bowie spends his time washing crusty plates and playing with a six year-old, yet I don't think I've ever seen him happier. Even Evangeline, who just became an orphan six short weeks ago, is smiling again.

And all I've done is isolate myself from the people I care about. What the hell is wrong with me?

"You okay?" Bowie collapses beside me, his face soaked with sweat. "You look a little blue."

"I have a lot on my mind," I admit.

"Does it have to do with you-know-who?"

"Voldemort?"

He chuckles. "Funny. No, I mean"—he leans in close and lowers his voice—"Raelyn."

"A little bit," I reply. "I don't know. I got in a huge fight with Levi. We haven't spoken in weeks."

"Ah, so that's why you've been staying here."

"He kind of kicked me out."

"Uh, isn't your name on the lease?"

"He didn't kick-me-out kick me out," I clarify. "Just needed some space, so he asked me to leave."

"What was your fight about?" he inquires.

I shake my head. "Honestly, I don't even know. I accused him of being an alcoholic. Then I accused him of favoring Raelyn over me. Then I said that people who commit suicide are psychotic. Then he confessed to having once attempted to take his own life. Then I tried to apologize, but he was already too upset, so he told me to get out."

Bowie's eyes bulge out of his head. "Uh... Gemma, I love you, but unless you're leaving out a few crucial details about what Levi did wrong, it kind of sounds like you owe him an apology."

"I said I was sorry!"

"Try an edible arrangement?"

"You're so not funny." I smack my brother's arm. "Bowie, what should I do? Levi's my best friend. I don't want to lose him."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Go talk to him. Sitting here moping isn't going to fix it."

"You're right." I push off the blanket and hand him my half-finished coffee. "I'm gonna pay him a visit right now."

"Finally. You've been sleeping on the couch for almost a month," he says with a snicker.

My heart stops. "Wait, what's today's date?"

"Uh, the thirtieth."

"Crap!"

"What's wrong?"

"Rent was due the twenty-eighth!" I tell him, scrambling to grab my stuff. "Levi's probably pissed. I have to go."

I hurry to my apartment, mentally berating myself the whole way. How could I have forgotten rent? I never forget anything, never have paid a bill anything less than on time and in full. I'm an organized person. I don't make mistakes like this.

God, I really am falling apart.

I park my car in my usual spot and sprint inside. I open the door, an apologetic speech on the tip of my tongue. I need to make things right. Like Bowie said, I need to fix this.

I stop dead in my tracks, however, when I see the plethora of empty bottles that cover the coffee table, the floor, even the couch. The apartment reeks of beer and spoiled food. I cover my nose as I walk into the disaster zone.

Levi's bedroom door opens. He's wearing a dirty t-shirt, a pair of loose-fitting basketball shorts, and a mismatched socks. He crosses his arms when he sees me but doesn't say a word.

I think the state of our apartment speaks for itself.

"Levi...." I take a step forward, but he backs away. "Levi, are you okay?"

"Haven't seen you in a while," he mutters, not answering the question.

"I realized I never paid my half of the rent."

"I already took care of it."

"Well, at least let me pay you back." I dig my wallet out of my purse and grab a handful of bills. "This should cover it."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it," he replies.

"But I live here, too," I insist.

"You haven't set foot in this apartment in weeks."

"I thought you were mad at me."

"I was."

"As in past tense...?"

"As in I don't know, Gemma." He pushes past me, grabs a beer from the fridge, and opens it on the side of the kitchen counter. "I just... I don't know. I've been dealing with some shit."

I glance around our filthy apartment. Neither of us are neat freaks. There are usually unfolded clothes on the floor, plates left in the sink, over-flowing trash cans, and other minor messes that we're too busy—okay, more like too lazy—to deal with. This is worst I've ever seen it.

"I'll clean up," he says. "You don't have to worry about it."

"But I am worried about you." I turn to my best friend. "Please, Levi, tell me what's going on."

He scoffs. "Why? So you can tell me how much you don't understand my feelings and how crazy I am for having them?"

"Levi, I would never—"

"But you have," he cuts me off. "You do it all the time."

I realize he isn't talking about himself. He's talking about Raelyn, about how unsympathetic I've been toward her situation.

"Gemma, I'm sorry I forced you to leave. That wasn't cool of me," he says. "You live here. You have just as much of a right to be here as I do, no matter what's going on between us."

"Thanks," I reply.

"But," he goes on, "maybe we do need a break, you know, from each other."

"I'm not your girlfriend, Levi. We can't just see other people and hope that resolves whatever is going on between us," I spit back.

"Not like that." He shakes his head. "Look, you were right about one thing. I have been drinking a lot lately. More than I'm comfortable with. The point is that I've been using it to cope with... with—"

"With what, Levi?"

"With you!" he shouts. "I love you, okay? But ever since Raelyn died, every other word that's come out of your mouth has been a huge trigger for me."

I raise my eyebrows. "What are you saying? I make you want to kill yourself?"

"See, there it is! That complete insensitivity toward everything you don't understand!" he exclaims. "Raelyn took her own life, Gemma, and the first thing you said about it was that she was selfish! Sometimes you remind me so much of—"

"Your parents," I finish, my voice barely a murmur.

He nods his head. "Yeah, you... you remind me of my parents."

I look him in the eyes, muster all the strength I possess, and swallow my pride. I need to prove to Levi that I'm still the same person I was before Raelyn died. I'm still the girl he loved enough to move in with.

And I'm nothing, absolutely nothing, like his heartless, judgmental parents.

"What do I have to do, Levi? How do I make this right?" I question him.

He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. I really don't."

"There has to be something. You're my best friend. I don't want to stop being a part of each other's lives."

"I don't, either."

"Then tell me what to do," I beg him. I'm on the verge of tears, but I hold them back. "Please, Levi, I can't... I can't lose you, too."

He lets out a sigh and pulls me into his arms right as the tears begin to fall. I cry into his shoulder. I cried a lot when Raelyn died, but I stopped after the funeral. It seemed like a waste of time, a waste of energy. Crying, mourning, putting my life on pause... I didn't see what it would accomplish. It wouldn't bring her back. It wouldn't make me miss her any less.

"I'm sorry." I back away, embarrassed. "You're telling me why you're upset, and here I am, playing the victim. I really am, like, the most toxic person ever."

"No, you're not," he says with a shake of his head. "You just get mad at the things you don't understand."

"Yeah, well, I don't understand much of anything anymore."

"You're blunt, Gemma. It's one of the things I love about you. It's also one of the things I hate."

I cross my arms. "What do you mean?"

"You always say what's on your mind, even if it would be better left unsaid," he elaborates. "Can you just work on, like, not being—?

"An insensitive piece of shit?"

"I was going to say so brutally honest, but that works, too."

Laughing, I throw my arms around his neck. He smells like Bud Light and B.O., but I don't care. I'm just glad to be back in his good graces.

Although I don't blame myself for Raelyn's death, I believe if I had been more present, more attentive, I could have intervened before she sucked down a whole bottle of sleeping pills. I was her friend. I should have noticed something.

I can't undo what's been done, but I can try to do better, to be better.

Because I'll be damned if Levi suffers the same fate as Raelyn and all I do is sit around and watch.