Disaster at the Dinner Table( Brian’s POV)

Dinner is a complete disaster.

Which, honestly? I saw coming from a mile away. But of course, my mom thought it was a great idea. "Come on, Brian, it'll be fun! Lighten up!" Catching up, reminiscing about the past? Yeah, no thanks. Some doors should stay locked.

But I'm here, sitting across from her, and she won't even look at me.

Not once.

She's pretending like I don't exist, like I'm just some stranger sitting at her dining table instead of the guy she once told everything to. The guy she snuck out with, the guy she trusted with every little dream she had.

I don't even know why I expected anything different. Maybe some eye contact? A casual "Hey, you suck, but welcome back?" But nope. She hasn't spared me a single glance. It's like I'm a ghost. A very present, very aware ghost who can't stop staring at her.

She looks different. Not drastically, but enough for me to notice. Her long black hair is shorter now, falling into bangs that frame her face in a way that should be illegal. Her dark eyes—usually bright, full of mischief—are distant. Guarded. She's wearing jeans and a casual light purple shirt, nothing fancy, but somehow she still looks stunning.

This morning, though? She looked like she wanted to murder me.

I saw her bolt out of her house like she was escaping a crime scene. Like the sight of me was too much to handle. Can't say I blame her. Our whole reunion was a trainwreck. And maybe—stupidly—I thought there'd be a different outcome. That she'd be mad, yeah, but also… glad? That she'd shove me and call me an idiot before pulling me into a hug and telling me I was the worst for leaving like that.

Instead, I got this—a whole lot of nothing.

And the worst part? I deserve it.

I should've told her. I should've let her in instead of shutting the door in her face. But by the time I realized how badly I screwed up, it was too late. The damage was done. And now? We're just strangers with memories.

If someone had told us this would happen two years ago, we would've laughed in their face. But now? Leah West wants absolutely nothing to do with me.

And yeah. That hurts.

I'm still in my head when my mom decides to dig the knife in deeper.

"Leah, I'm so sorry for taking Brian away. I know he meant a lot to you."

I freeze.

Shit.

My mom has no idea. She doesn't know what I did, how I left without a word, how I shattered whatever we had. She still thinks Blue and I were fine all this time, that I actually explained things before I disappeared.

I risk a glance at her.

Her fork is frozen midair, and for the first time all night, she looks at me.

The shock in her eyes is brief, gone almost as fast as it appeared, replaced by something unreadable. And then—like flipping a switch—she recovers, smiling sweetly at my mom like nothing's wrong.

"Oh, it's fine. No biggie."

No biggie.

She just throws it out there, so casual, so fake. I should feel relieved that she covered for me, but instead, I feel like I just got punched in the gut.

And then, because my mom clearly wants me to suffer, keeps talking. "Brian always said how much you missed him. How you couldn't wait for us to move back."

Jesus.

I immediately turned to Blue again, panicked, waiting for her reaction.

She tilts her head slightly, eyes locking onto mine, challenging me and there it is—the first time she's actually looked at me all night.

And damn if that doesn't wreck me.

Oh, really? her look says. That's interesting, because I don't remember missing a backstabbing liar.

But before my mom can notice the absolute mess she just created, Blue recovers like a pro, flashing a smile. "Yeah, I guess I did."

And then she laughs. Laughs.

And my mom joins in, completely oblivious.

They both laugh. Like it's funny. Like it's true.

And I just sit there, feeling like an even bigger asshole than before.

Later that night, I find myself in my room, staring at Leah's window like some pathetic loser. Old habits die hard, I guess.

I used to climb up there all the time. I could've just used the front door, but where was the fun in that? We'd sit in her room for hours, talking about school, making stupid plans, laughing over things that didn't matter.

Now, all I have is the memory.

And the cold, brutal reality that I might never get that back.

Because blue hates me.

And worst of all?

I don't think I know how to fix it.

But I sure as hell am going to try.

Dinner is a complete disaster—which I oddly anticipated.

I knew this was a bad idea from the start, but nooo, it was supposed to be fun, right? Lighten up, Brian. Catching up, reminiscing about the past? Yeah, no thanks. Some doors should stay locked.

But I'm here, sitting across from her, and she won't even look at me.

Not once.

She's wearing jeans and a light purple shirt, her hair shorter now, with bangs that frame her face in a way that makes her look… different. More grown-up. More closed off.

More beautiful than ever.

If she wasn't staring at her plate like it was the most interesting thing in the world, I'd tell her that. But I don't get the chance, because my mom decides to drop a bomb right in the middle of the table.

"Blue, I'm so sorry for taking Brian away. I know he meant a lot to you."

I freeze.

Shit.

I risk a glance at her.

Her fork is frozen midair, and for the first time all night, she looks at me.

The shock in her eyes is brief, gone almost as fast as it appeared, replaced by something unreadable. And then—like flipping a switch—she recovers, smiling sweetly at my mom like nothing's wrong.

"Oh, it's fine. No biggie."

No biggie.

She just throws it out there, so casual, so fake. I should feel relieved that she covered for me, but instead, I feel like I just got punched in the gut.

My mom, oblivious, keeps talking. "Brian always said how much you missed him. How you couldn't wait for us to come back."

Jesus.

I immediately turn to Blue again, panicked, waiting for her reaction.

She tilts her head slightly, eyes locking onto mine, challenging me. Oh, really? her look says. That's interesting, because I don't remember missing a backstabbing liar.

But instead of calling me out, she just flashes another easy smile.

"Yeah… I guess I did."

They both laugh. Like it's funny. Like it's true.

And I just sit there, feeling like an even bigger asshole than before.

Old Ghosts & Open Windows

At some point, Leah's mom shifts the conversation.

"So, Brian, I heard you're starting school next week. Excited?"

I force a nod. "Yeah, I am."

Lie.

Because right now, it doesn't feel like I'm starting over. It just feels like I'm walking into a battlefield.

My dad leaves with blues dad later and everything goes in a whirlwind.