Chapter 2: Cracks
1053 Words
I don't notice it at first.
Because everything still looks... fine.
The same hallways.
The same classes.
The same Andy leaning against my locker like he's been waiting there his whole life.
But perfection doesn't shatter all at once.
It cracks.
Quietly.
Morning
Andy's already outside when I arrive.
Beanie on. Tie loose. Shirt slightly wrinkled.
Of course.
I walk up to him, already reaching for his tie.
"Don't," he says.
I pause.
"...What?"
"I fixed it this time," he adds, lightly swatting my hand away.
I blink, caught off guard.
"You didn't," I say automatically.
"I did."
"You don't even know how to-"
"I do, Cass."
His tone isn't harsh.
Just... firmer than usual.
I hesitate, then carefully fix his collar anyway, slower this time.
"There," I mumble. "Now it's actually right."
Andy exhales through his nose, but doesn't argue further.
Instead, he reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together like it's nothing.
My heart skips.
"...You're still holding my hand," I point out.
"Yeah," he shrugs. "Problem?"
"...No."
Not at all.
First Break
We're sitting under the tree near the courtyard, sharing snacks.
Andy steals a piece from my lunch.
"Hey-!"
"What?" he says with his mouth full. "You always pack too much."
"That's not the point."
"It kind of is."
I huff, crossing my arms.
He grins and nudges me.
"Relax. I'll make it up to you."
"Oh really?" I raise an eyebrow. "How?"
He thinks for a second... then gently taps my forehead.
"With my amazing company."
I stare at him.
"...That's it?"
"That's it."
I try not to smile.
I fail.
Student Council Office
I'm rewriting a schedule again.
The spacing is off.
The margins aren't clean.
It's bothering me.
The door creaks open.
Andy.
Again.
He walks in like he owns the place, dropping his bag on the chair.
"You're still here?"
"I have work."
"You've been rewriting that for ten minutes."
"It's wrong."
"It's fine."
"It's not fine."
Andy walks over, glancing at the paper.
"It looks the same as the last one."
"It's not the same."
"How?"
"The alignment is-"
"Cass."
I stop.
He's looking at me differently this time.
Not annoyed.
Just... tired.
"It doesn't have to be perfect."
I swallow.
"...It does to me."
There's a pause.
Then he sighs, softer now.
"Yeah. I know."
He reaches out and gently flicks my forehead.
"Take a break."
I glare at him, but I don't argue.
After School
We're walking home together.
Hands brushing. Sometimes holding. Sometimes not.
Comfortable.
Familiar.
But something feels... off.
"You're quiet," Andy says.
"I'm thinking."
"That's dangerous."
I nudge him lightly. "Shut up."
He laughs.
Then-
"You've been... extra lately."
I look at him. "Extra?"
"Yeah. Like you're trying harder than usual."
My chest tightens.
"I'm always like this."
"I know. But this is different."
I look away.
"...I just want things to go right."
"They already are."
"You don't know that."
"And you do?"
I don't answer.
Because I don't.
The First Crack
The next day, Andy shows up late again.
Five minutes this time.
I'm waiting by the gate, checking my phone, tapping my foot.
When he finally arrives, he's slightly out of breath, beanie tilted, tie completely off-center.
I frown.
"You're late."
"Sorry," he says. "Something came up."
"What?"
"Just stuff."
"That's not an answer."
He exhales. "Does it matter? I'm here now."
"It does matter. You said you'd be on time today."
"I said I'd try."
"You didn't try hard enough."
The words come out sharper than I intended.
Andy's expression shifts.
"There it is," he mutters.
My stomach drops. "What?"
"That tone."
"What tone?"
"Like I'm some kind of project you have to fix."
I freeze.
"That's not-"
"You're always correcting something, Cass. My tie, my schedule, what I do, how I do it-"
"I'm just helping!"
"I didn't ask for help!"
Silence.
The air between us feels heavier now.
I take a step closer.
"I just want things to be better-"
"They're already fine!"
His voice raises slightly.
People nearby glance over.
I lower mine, panic creeping in.
"Andy, I'm not trying to control you, I just-"
"You are."
That hits harder than anything else.
"I'm not-"
"You are," he repeats, softer now. "And it's exhausting sometimes."
My throat tightens.
"I... I didn't mean to..."
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.
"I know you didn't. But it still feels that way."
Apology
We don't talk much the rest of the day.
It's quiet.
Too quiet.
After school, I find him by the stairs.
He's sitting alone.
I walk up slowly.
"...Andy."
He looks up.
Not angry.
Just... distant.
"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I just... I worry."
"I know."
"I'll try to stop."
"You don't have to stop being you, Cass."
"Then what do I do?"
He hesitates.
"...Just don't try to fix everything."
I nod, even though I'm not sure how to do that.
"Okay."
There's a pause.
Then he pats the step beside him.
I sit.
Carefully.
After a moment, he leans his head lightly against mine.
My breath catches.
"I'm not mad," he murmurs.
"...You sounded mad."
"I was annoyed."
"That's worse."
He chuckles softly.
"Come here."
He pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
I relax into him, holding onto his sleeve slightly.
"...I'll do better," I whisper.
"Yeah," he says quietly. "Me too."
That Night
I sit by the window again, bottle in hand.
But this time, I hesitate.
My pen hovers over the paper.
Then I write:
"I'm sorry for earlier. I didn't mean to make you feel like you weren't enough."
I send it across the line.
Andy picks it up almost instantly.
Reads it.
Looks at me.
For a moment, I think he won't reply.
Then-
The string moves.
I catch the bottle.
"You don't have to make me better, Cass. I just want to be with you."
My chest aches.
In a good way.
In a scary way.
I look up at him.
He smiles.
Soft.
Real.
And for a moment, everything feels okay again.
But as I sit there, holding the bottle close-
I notice something.
The string between our windows...
It's slightly frayed.
Just a little.
Barely noticeable.
But it's there.
A small c***k.
Waiting.
End of Chapter 2
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