ANY THOUGHT I had in the last 24 hours were immediately interrupted with the memory of Atlas's hands on my face and his lips against mine. Everyone in the house noticed whenever I drifted off into my head and my cheeks burned red. Whenever they'd ask what was wrong or what I was thinking about, I'd scrambled to come up with an excuse. A small smirk would paint Atlas's lips as he stared at his lap. I simply stutter out, "I'm just tired,"

Atlas has been driving me insane and now that I knew what his lips tasted like and how has hands felt on my body, it just gave me a few hundred other things to think about.

Today, the group and I went out sightseeing. We went to about a hundred cute little places filled with hundreds of flowers and old buildings, tourists and delicious food. After I was sure my feet would fall off and my stomach would devour itself, we decided to have a quick lunch and buy a few gifts.

As I was checking out a bracelet with a plastic dried flower for Lydia, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. With a small huff, I pulled my phone from my pocket and let a smile grace my lips when I saw that the call was from Mom, meaning it was probably Lydia.

I picked up the phone, pressing it between my ear and shoulder as I continued to stare at the beautiful bracelet. As I stared at the flower more and more, it looked a lot like the flower I had given Atlas on our walk in Spain. I smiled at the memory as I said hello into the phone.

She didn't respond as I heard shuffling from the other side of the phone. I decided to keep talking as she got situated on the phone, "We're in the Netherlands and I was just looking at a bracelet to get you. It's pretty cute, I think you'll like it."

I stopped talking when I heard someone cry from the other side of the phone. I placed the bracelet back on the shelf and turned away from the bustle of the little shop. "Lydia, what's wrong?"

At that question, heart-wrenching sobs started to leave her lips and I felt my stomach liquify. Lydia rarely cried and if she did, never this hard. I could tell that her hand was pressed to her lips to stop herself from being quiet.

"Eden, I—" She started, but couldn't get two words out, another sob leaving her lips. I walked out the shop, ignoring the concerned looks I was given by Atlas and Dawson as I slipped out the door.

"Hey, Lydia," I said, trying to keep the nervous edge out of my voice, "Talk to me,"

She let out a shuddered sigh, "Can you come back?"

I frowned and at the moment, I would've. Why was a little girl like her crying so hard? She should be laughing, smiling, talking and being a... child. The small hiccups and sobs she was letting out was making my heart twist and tighten in pain.

"Why?" I asked, plopping down on the chair and dropping my head in my hands, "What's going on?"

She took in a shuddering breath as she started to speak, "Mom and Dad have been going into their old room and talking for hours on end which always ends up with them screaming at each other. They keep repeating over and over again that it's the other's fault that he's gone."

She let out a sob, "Roman keeps calling me an idiot and I know I'm not, but he won't stop! Nova stopped talking to me because I screamed at him and Ms. Werner took his side as always."

As I opened my mouth to say something, she sobbed again, "And, Eden? Who is Ethan?"

My eyes widened a fraction and I felt my stomach solidify and plummet into my feet. Blood rushed in my ears and my head started to spin. I opened my mouth to say something, but realized that there weren't any words leaving my lips. Breathing started to seem like a laborious task.

"Eden?" Lydia asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

I sucked in a breath, "Lydia, everything will be okay, you understand? Put Mom on the phone."

She let out a meekly sound and I listened as she walked out of a room and knocked on a door. A few seconds passed and then I heard Mom. "What?" She asked, obviously at her wit's end.

"It's Eden," Lydia whispered and Mom let out a sigh.

"I'll talk to her later," She said, "Okay?"

Lydia sighed, "She said she needs to talk to you. It's urgent,"

I assumed Mom took the phone and after a few seconds, she finally spoke. "Hello? Eden? What's wrong?"

I felt my fist tighten in anger and my face burn red, "What's wrong?!" I asked, my voice rising considerably. "What the hell is going on at home?"

Mom was quiet for a second, two seconds, three seconds, when she finally said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I stood to my feet and started to pace, "You know what I'm talking about, Mom. Stop lying to me!"

Mom sighed on the other side of the phone, "Eden, everything is fine here. Go enjoy your time with your friends."

I let out a small groan, "Mom, I'm not stupid. If everything is "fine" over there, then why is Lydia calling me crying about this kid at her school and you and Dad always arguing. She's hurting and you both are too pathetic to even care."

Mom took in a deep breath and stayed quiet for a very long time before she said, "Eden, you're just a kid and don't need to know about every decision your Dad and I make for our family, okay? We'll deal with Lydia, we'll talk to her, but you need to stop, okay? Go back to your friends."

I don't really know why, but I was deeply hurt by her words. All those times she fell into such a deep depression because of Dad or because of life, I was there to help her. Whenever she didn't know what she was doing, I was always there to let her know that she's got this. But now, her words were like a kick in the gut.

I stayed quiet and when Mom let out a sigh, I held back a wave of tears, "What's going on with Ethan, Mom?"

I heard her hold her breath and waited for her to say something. And when she didn't, I felt my legs weaken and my shoulders slump. I hated her so much right now, I couldn't think straight.

"Why is everyone talking about him all of a sudden?" I asked, worry and anger creeping into my voice, "Tell me!"

Mom sucked her teeth, "Nothing, he just needs a little help, but he's fine."

My demeanor fell and all I wanted to do was fall onto the sidewalk and cry. "He— He talked to you?"

Mom sighed, "Eden, everything is fine. I'll talk to you later,"

Before I could ask her to talk to Lydia again or yell at her for being such a bitch, she hung up. I fell back onto my chair and dropped my head in my hands, tears slipping down my cheeks right after.

I felt so lost.

As the tears I was trying so hard to hold back started to fall down my cheeks, I fisted my hair into my hands in anger.

Why couldn't she see that she was in the wrong? She was completely neglecting her daughter who was having a hard time at school and at home. All over a son who was probably never coming home... because of me.

At that thought, my tears started to fall faster and I felt my body shake. I looked up as I felt someone standing over me. I watched Atlas take a seat next to me and he pulled me closer to him, letting me drop my head onto his chest.

With his arms around me and his lips pressed to my head, I started to cry even more. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face into his chest. "I hate her, I hate her so much,"

Atlas shushed me quietly, brushing my hair back from my face soothingly. As my sobs started to quiet and my thoughts started to become a little more cohesive, I found myself sitting up and staring at the few people walking across the street.

"Eden?" Atlas asked and I turned around slightly to face him. He reached his hand up, softly brushing the back of his fingers against my cheek, taking my chin in his hand after.

"What happened?" He asked. At those words, I felt my lip tremble and tears threaten to slip down my cheeks again. I sucked in a breath and attempted to steel over my emotions as much as I could.

"Lydia called me. She was crying about Mom and Dad arguing all the time and about this boy in her class she has a hard time with. I was surprised because Lydia never cries." I said.

Atlas brushed my hair back from my face and nodded along to what I was saying. "Mom was being so distant and rude. She told me that I didn't need to know everything going on all the time. When Dad left, I was the one she talked to, I was the one she consulted all the time."

My shoulders slumped, "Now she won't even tell me everything's okay back home."

I let out a sigh and placed my head down on Atlas's chest. He pulled me closer, planting a kiss on my hairline. A small smile made its way to my lips before I frowned once more.

"She started talking to Ethan and won't tell me what's wrong," I breathed finally.

I felt Atlas move under me and I sat up, watching a confused frown paint his lips. "Who's Ethan?"

I looked out onto the street. Memories of Ethan and I as kids flooded my head and all I wanted was to run back into his arms that always filled me with so much security.

The times we spent together either pissing Mom and dad off or spending the night on the roof talking about anything and everything. I hated him sometimes so much, but they were stupid reasons to hate him; Like when he accidentally dropped my new lamp down the stairs when I 10, or when he took the last slice of pizza in the box.

But I loved him more than the world itself.

I frowned, dropping my head slightly, "Uh, he— he's my brother."

Atlas didn't say anything for a while and when I finally looked up, his eyes were waiting for me to continue. When he saw my hesitation, "Don't say anything if you don't want to. I'm here for you— always."

I shook my head, "That's not it. I want to tell you, it just takes a while to be able to talk about it and not cry."

He smiled, "We can talk about it tonight,"

I frowned, looking over to him, "Tonight?"

He had a stupidly wide smile that I completely adored on his face. I wanted to capture that smile and keep it in my pocket forever. A small smile stretched the corners of my lips.

He nodded, a questioning smile on his face, "I didn't tell you? I'm taking you out later tonight."

At my confused expression, he nodded. I shook my head, "Atlas, I don't want to go anywhere. As soon as we get back, I'm going to sleep."

He frowned, his bottom lip pushing out slightly. Then I found myself thinking, Fuck, what is this boy doing to me?

He pulled me closer to him, smiling against my cheek, "It'll just be us and it won't be anything crazy. We'll just sit and talk."

With his ring-clad fingers pulling me closer to him by my neck and his lips against my cheek, how could I possibly say no? I nodded and I felt his lips pull into a wider smile against my cheek.

He pulled back and met my eyes and next thing I knew, his lips were pressed to mine again. Every thought in my head went quiet and my eyes fluttered close. His nose brushed against my cheek and his hair softly brushed my forehead. His lips against mine felt like heaven on earth; Like clouds sliding over a dark sky, or the soft waves crashing against the ocean's shore.

When he pulled back and my eyes fluttered open, Atlas let out a small laugh at the dazed look on my face. He pressed his lips to my forehead, smiling softly.

I loved this and the thought of living without it seemed absurd. It was like living without oxygen.

-

Atlas held my hand pulling me down the street. A soft smile painted his pretty lips and all I could do was smile up at him and try not to trip over my feet.

Before we left, he told me that we weren't going anywhere special and that I don't have to worry about dressing up. I was thankful since I had no energy to do anything; And sitting and talking with Atlas for hours sounded like the only thing I was willing to do for the rest of my life.

I was dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a cropped black t-shirt. As we made our way to the elevator, Atlas walked next to me, his arm around my waist and his hand on the bare part of my waist and stomach.

I tried to play it cool, but Atlas saw right through me like he always does.

When we started to slow down and make our way down a strip mall, I looked up Atlas. He smiled down at me when he noticed me staring, "What?"

I held back another smile, "What are your favorite things?"

His eyes lingered on mine before he smiled, "You mean aside from you?"

My cheeks burned red and I rolled my eyes to hide the sting in my cheeks. Atlas laughed, pulling me closer, "Okay, um— I think, beautiful sentences, the little things that people notice about you, making memories and not realizing it, French music, and holding hands with someone I'm comfortable with."

I smiled down at our entwined hands, nodding softly. "Your things are all pretty and not superficial. I was going to say something like roller coasters."

Atlas laughed softly, "The things you like aren't superficial."

I gave him a look, "Uh-huh,"

Atlas pulled me closer to him, "I'm serious. You like the small ripples the ocean makes on the surface, you like seeing the perfect in everything you see, you like the way chocolate melts in your mouth, and you like learning new things about people. You told me it makes you feel more connected to a person."

I stared up at him, blinking in amazement. My lips opened to say something before he laughed softly, "Oh and you love the color green."

I chuckled softly, burying my head in his side as we walked. "You notice everything, don't you?"

He laughed, slipping his hand from mine and draping it over my shoulder, "I like to think so,"

I remember smiling up at him and getting this feeling in my body. It was like my body relaxed and signaled my brain that I was okay. I was safe here.

Atlas ended up taking us to this convenience store and told me that I could buy anything. I blinked at him and when I didn't move, he smiled, "The offer only stands for 7 minutes. Pick up what you can,"

Right now we were sitting at a dock, our legs dangling off the edge, hanging a few feet above the water. I was quietly sipping from my slushy and Atlas was sorting his sour patch kids beside me, pausing to look at me every few seconds.

As I stared at the dark water beneath us and the bright lights overhead, I was thinking about Ethan and Lydia. Lydia didn't get a chance to really know Ethan. When he left, she was only 5 years old. Sometimes, she'd bring up a vague memory she had of him, but wouldn't really know who he was. Mom and Dad made sure I didn't bring it up to her— ever.

I felt Atlas's hand brush my hair back behind my ear, causing me to glance at him. I smiled softly at him.

"You okay?" He asked, his hand sliding down to hold my face to his.

I nodded softly. "Uh— I don't know if you know the feeling, but it's like when you're so happy, you feel guilty that people you love aren't as happy as you are. I don't know if that makes any sense—"

Atlas smiled, "I get what you mean,"

I sucked in a breath. I was ready to tell him.

"Uh, my family has had a few people who struggled with severe depression." I said, holding Atlas's hand to my face as I looked out to the water. "Lydia and I were lucky enough to have been born healthy and happy, but Ethan wasn't."

"Before I was born, he struggled a lot. When I got a little older, I started to notice that he rarely ever left his room and stopped eating days at a time." I breathed.

I ran my fingers up and down my cup that was slick with frost. "Mom and Dad told me that it was better if I left him alone and when he was ready to talk, we'd be there. I thought it was so wrong to even think that. I thought that you should be there for your family no matter if they were ready or not. Mom and Dad always thought otherwise..."

Atlas continued to listen.

"Well, when I was around 8 and Ethan was 10, we grew a lot closer. When everyone was asleep, I sneaked into his room and we'd sit and talk and laugh for hours. We'd watch cartoons together, sneak cookies from the pantry, draw each other, and play board games. Everything was great.

"I guess seeing Ethan with me, happy and his usual self, led me to believe that he was okay. I always thought that he just had a hard time talking or something, but it was never like that. He was my older brother and he didn't want me to see him at his lowest."

My shoulders slumped as the weight of my words hit me. I was stupid. I assumed that he was okay. I assumed that all the problems that doctors claimed he had were false. I was naive; I was stupid.

Atlas's thumb moved back and forth over my cheekbone. "Well, a few years later, I was 15 and Ethan was 17. I was now more aware of what was going on. He would lock himself in his room way more often and would skip meals during school and at home. When his friends would come to our house to check on him, Ethan would always tell me to tell them that he just had a headache. So, I did.

"But Ethan always had this one friend that would stay at our house and wait for him to get better. He would stay in our living room and talk to me about funny things Ethan would do in class, he would prepare meals for Ethan and I if Mom was too busy with Lydia. Ethan only trusted him."

I sighed, curling into myself at this part of the story. I hated this part because it made me feel embarrassed and like a naive 15-years-old girl.

"I— obviously— had a huge crush on him. He was always at our house, smiled at me and asked me about my day, and would play video games with me when Ethan couldn't. I don't know if he liked me then, but my crush on him was obvious to almost everyone."

Atlas had a small concentrated frown on his face. My eyes fluttered closed when he brushed his fingers over my cheek again. I continued,

"When I turned 16, at my birthday party, Keldan— the guy I had a crush on— told me that he wanted to be more than friends with me. He said he wanted it all with me and I told him I wanted the same. When we told Ethan, he seemed a little angry, but when Keldan assured him that he would take care of me, he got over it."

"One day, I came home from school alone. Ethan said that he didn't feel so good halfway through the day and left early. When I got home, I went straight up to his room to ask him if he felt better."

A tear slipped from my eye and I quickly brushed it away. Atlas pulled me closer to him and I rested my head on his shoulder, smiling softly at the strange feeling Atlas always released in the pit of my stomach.

"When I walked into his room, it was obvious he was in the bathroom. So, I knocked once and he told me to go away. I knocked again and there was no response. I was panicking slightly so when I checked if the door was unlocked and it opened, I walked in."

A sob escaped my lips and I held my breath to stop the rest from leaving. Atlas planted a small kiss on my hairline and I let my eyes close for a second. When I regained my bearings, I continued with the story.

"Ethan had cut himself and was laying face down in his own blood. His shirt was covered in it and his wrist—"

I squeezed my eyes shut as the memory of that day resurfaced in my head. I let out a small groan and pursed my lips. I had to get the rest of the story out. I had to.