Page 19 of #PhiThetaForever

I shake my head slowly, closing my eyes and tucking my chin to my chest. The tears welling behind my lids already have my eyes burning. This stuff is killing me. All the crying, hardly sleeping . . . I think I've eaten twice in three days. I wish Declan understood that his actions don't just hurt him. They hurt all of us. Not just me, either. Darcy, Candice, Jackson . . . even Sandra and Justus. Everyone is worried about him, stressing over what he's doing, praying like our lives depend on it because we know his life very well may.

My entire body shutters when his lips press against the skin of my shoulder, right at the place where they meet my neck. I'm trying to shut him out, but it's like my body has a mind of its own. Just a little, my head falls to the side, and Declan, slowly and light as air, plants kisses up my neck as he wraps his arms around me. My hands grip his forearms, and it takes every ounce of strength I have not to sob and fall into him.

"I'm so sorry, Lena," he whispers, his soft lips and breath tickling my ear, sending a wave of goosebumps over my skin. He holds me tightly against him and keeps trailing kisses from my ear to my shoulder, and time seems to stand still. Every time he gets to my ear, he whispers an apology. "Baby, please, turn around and look at me."

His arms loosen, and I turn, despite knowing that I'm probably going to emotionally break. I try to keep my chin tucked to my chest, but Declan slides his hands along either side of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair and gently forcing my face up until my eyes meet his. The breath catches in my throat at the tears streaming down his face. I almost chuckle at the fact he looks as bad as I do.

"Do you feel the same way Bo does?" I can't keep the hurt out of my voice. "You think sex will make all this shit easier somehow? Like that's what I'm worth to you?"

He blanches like I've slapped him, his grip on either side of my face tightening just a little. "No. God, no, Lena. Even if you wanted to, I wouldn't, not while I'm like this. I don't want my first time with you to be tainted by drugs, or alcohol, or stress, or . . . anything. I want it to be perfect. Because that's what you deserve. What you've always deserved. Perfection."

I think I hear my heartbreak. Stepping closer to him, I fist my hands in his shirt and tilt my head so that I can keep my eyes on his. "I don't want perfection, Declan. I want you. The you that I fell in love with. The guy that scooped up a girl he didn't know from cowering and crying in an alleyway. The guy who loved me when I couldn't love myself."

He's nodding before I finish talking, a new wave of tears soaking his face. "I'm still that guy, baby. I swear I'm still here."

Declan crushes me to his chest and buries his face in my hair. His says 'I love you' like a thousand time, and I nod against him. I know Declan loves me. He's just . . . struggling right now. I won't ruin my own life or settle for less than I know I'm worth, but I will keep trying to help him, keep trying to get him through this.

"Let's go back to the house. You two look like you need coffee and sleep," a voice says behind us.

We both turn to find Jackson, Justus, Sandra, Candice, and Darcy standing together just a few feet away. Jackson takes a step forward, a tight look on his face. He's holding his hand out to Declan, and for a moment, Declan just looks between his hand and his face. Taking a hesitant step away from me, he slides his hand into Jackson's and then is jerked forward. Jackson grabs him in a bear hug, which Declan returns.

"I'm sorry, brother," Declan says.

Jackson nods, squeezing him tighter. "I know. I know you are."

For the first time in days, maybe even weeks, I feel a little lighter. A little happier even. I don't know how to save Declan from himself, but I'm going to try.

21 Declan

I have to give the Phi Theta Fraternity credit where it's due. Not only are all of the guys super nice and supportive, but their place is impressive. The house, much like the sorority house next door, is a large farmhouse in style. Phi Theta isn't a popular organization. Not like Sigma Nu, including me and the other pledges, fifty-five members this year all live together in the Frat house. Phi Theta has less than twenty in each home. They're small, tight-knit, and more awesome than I thought.

Justus and I sit at the breakfast nook with Jackson, drinking coffee while Lena and the girls are standing around the island doing the same and munching on cookies Sandra made earlier in the day for the frat brothers. I don't think I've ever seen any girls bring anything to the Sigma Nu frat house aside from beer and condoms. Other than that, you don't often see them hanging out. Sandra, being the female President, has a key to the frat house in case of emergencies. Apparently, Justus has one to the sorority house for the same reason. The two organizations seem to work entirely together in everything.

I may be having trouble focusing, especially since I haven't had one bit of drugs or so much as a whiff of alcohol since Sunday morning, but I haven't missed the fact Lena isn't eating anything. She’s sipping coffee and chatting, a light smile on her face that seems genuine but still doesn't reach her eyes. As soon as they got here, Sandra offered Lena some fresh clothes and let her shower. When all the ladies were done, that's when the coffee was made. Lena put on a pair of skin-tight black leggings and one of those oversized, off-the-shoulder sweaters that leave her neck, shoulder, and half her bicep on one arm bare. She looks beautiful, but . . . thinner.

"Has my girlfriend lost weight in the whopping three days I haven't spoken to her," I say, failing to keep the irritation out of my voice.

Justus and Jackson both look over at her as well.

"She hasn't eaten much, bro," Jackson says before sipping his coffee. "I think sometimes you forget how much you and that girl are linked. God didn't put you together just for the hell of it. Your lives are interwoven, like the threads of a basket."

Sighing, I stare down at my coffee. "It bothers me that it's been three days and her collarbone sticks out. Has she eaten anything at all?"

Justus taps his finger on the table. "I know Monday she barely got out of bed. Just for class, and then Darcy said it was pretty bad at the dorm that night. Jackson and I were told to stay away, but Sandra went over to help. Tuesday, Candice made her go to lunch. She didn't eat much, but a small salad is better than nothing. Last night, I forced her to go to dinner with me. Again, she didn't eat much, but we all figure something is better than nothing."

"Dear God, I fucked up so bad," I growl, squeezing my coffee mug to keep from slamming my hands on the table.

"Watch it, Declan," Justus snaps, making my eyes shoot up to his. "You want to use the Lord's name alongside that language, don't do it here. I'm not against cursing, but we don't bring up the Lord in the same phrase. You're right. You fucked this up. The fact you know that means you might be in a better place than most people. But you're also still pledging Sigma Nu."

I huff and glance back over at Lena. "Yeah. I know you guys don't understand, but this fraternity opens doors for people after college. I want that when I'm done here."

Jackson rolls his eyes, but it doesn't upset me. I have no reason to be upset, not after everything I've put them through already. "So what, you think that we're all just going to sit here and let you drink, fuck, and get high until you make it as a Sigma Nu, and then things just go back to normal? You think Lena should just sit here and let you hurt her for months and months because this is important to you? What about her? What about her feelings, her dignity? Have you stopped to think about any of that?"

Meeting his eye, I'm almost afraid at the glint in his eyes. I can't remember a time in my life, in our friendship, when he's been this angry with me. And we've been friends since we were like two. "Jackson, I think about her every minute I'm not with her. You know that."

"No, I don't know that, Declan. I used to. Last year, yes, I would have thought your world started and ended with Lena. This summer, damn right. But now? Nah. To me, it looks like your world starts with the bottle Bo hands you and ends at the last bit of coke on the table."

"She is my world, Jackson." Heat creeps up my neck as I get more irritated with this conversation.