Page 23 of Landon & Shay: Part One

I’m trying so hard to not drown.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but today I was happy.

Today I am happy.

And that’s worthy of being written down.

-L

6

Shay

It had beentwo days since the party, and I hadn’t stopped thinking about Landon and those gloomy eyes of his. As he stood in the middle of his living room, frozen in place, I knew he was wrapped deep in a panic attack. I used to have them, too, whenever Dad was out dealing, or on the nights when he never made it home. I’d become paralyzed, and each breath would be harder and harder to take. I’d imagine the worst-case scenario. Him passed out in a ditch. Him getting involved in a shootout. Him getting killed. Killing others. It felt like the walls were closing in, and there was no escape at all.

I knew what caused my anxiety, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was the cause behind Landon’s. It blew my mind how he could stand in a room, surrounded by dozens of people who claimed to be his friends, and no one even noticed his pain.

Except me.

I saw it, and I worried about it, even though it wasn’t my place to worry. I worried so much I reached out to Greyson to find out a little more about it. I was certain he was thrown off by me asking about Landon, seeing how I’d never cared about the guy in the past, but seeing his sadness, seeing it leaking from his heart and knowing that same pain, I couldn’t look away. I couldn’t mentally be okay with having a stupid bet with Landon if his pieces were already shattered.

At first, I got kind of elated about the idea of the bet. It felt like a fun challenge, because it was highlighting each of our true talents. Landon’s gift was physical attraction. Over the years, I’d watched him get girls to melt into a puddle by just winking their way. He played the cliché bad-boy role to a T, and those high school girls fell right into his lap—and his bed.

My talent was the complete opposite. While he excelled at physical attraction, I was a master at emotions. I was a storyteller, and as such, I’d spent the past several years of my life learning how to study people. Everyone I encountered became a character to me. I learned their ins and outs. I wrote down their traits in my many notebooks. I studied why they were the way they were, what drove them, what inspired them, what made them tick. I asked them questions. I engaged with them because they all fascinated me so much. I was a people person by nature. It was my gift—seeing people from all sides, all angles. I’d learned early on that there aren’t any real villains in life, just heroes who have been beaten down for so long they’ve forgotten they have the ability to be good.

The challenge of making Landon fall in love with me was fun at first. Making my sworn enemy love me seemed like a decent way to mock Landon for the rest of his life. Plus, someday down the line, I could base a character off him and his complexities.

That was, until I spoke to Greyson and learned the truth about Landon’s struggles.

“He’s not okay lately, and I don’t think he’s been sleeping,” he told me. “He’s the kind of sad you only notice if you look closely enough, and most people don’t look. He’s one of my best friends, though, and I see it all. Ever since Lance died, he hasn’t been okay, and Saturday was Lance’s birthday, so I know that triggered some of his issues. I know you two have your own hate and stuff, Shay, but Landon is a good guy. He’s just lost, that’s all—just like all of us, I suppose.”

Those words from Greyson made the game less fun in my mind. It felt cruel, almost, to play a game with someone who was so broken.

I walked over to Landon’s locker on Monday at school, and Greyson’s words stayed with me as I headed toward him. That morning, I was looking straight at him, uncertain what it was I was going to see—the sad, broken Landon, or the cold, distant one I usually interacted with.

“Hey, Landon.”

He turned my way, a bit thrown off by seeing me standing there. I had to admit, I was a bit thrown off, too. Never in my life had I thought I’d be walking up to Landon of all people and saying hi to him.

“Sup?” he asked, pulling out some books from his locker and shoving them into his backpack.

“I wanted to say…we can call off the bet. With everything going on…” My words faded. His life was messy enough; the last thing he needed was to keep up with some stupid bet. He had bigger issues to deal with.

“What do you mean ‘with everything going on’?” His voice was smoky, deep, and still made the hairs on my body stand straight up even if it was only eight in the morning.

“Well, Greyson told me about it being Lance’s birthday this past weekend, and—”

“What? You afraid of losing?” he said, cutting in, but I’d seen the small flinch in his body when I had mentioned his uncle.

“No. I just figured you had bigger issues to handle.”

“There’s nothing in my life that needs to be handled,” he said, closing his locker. He tossed his backpack onto his shoulder. “So don’t try to put that on me. If you want to forfeit the challenge then, by all means, quit. But I’ll be damned if I’m the one to cut it off, because I’m no chicken.”

“Landon, you’re still mourning the death of your uncle. You’re not okay.”

“You don’t have to tell me things I already know,” he replied, his voice dripping in a low smokiness. To my knowledge, Landon didn’t smoke, but his voice was so raspy at times you’d think he did.

“Yeah, but…well, that’s a lot on its own. Plus, with the anniversary of his death coming up in a few weeks…”

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