faultcline

[faultcline]

He was trying to keep a straight face, but the corners of his mouth kept turning up. Then he turned his head to look at me, and we both started laughing. I laughed so hard my back hurt worse. […] Looking up at him, I had this sudden thought. Oh my God.  I still love you.

[faultcline]

hey queen! we are literally the same person.. moots?

gracie and mason girlie i see youu 😚😚 absolutely we can!!!! how are you??

[faultcline]

── ` ᥫ᭡　taglist!　 @tillysslife 　 @mossypearlz 　 @rosedustdreams .

⠀ ㅤ𓈒 ⠀ 🧸ㅤIN BETWEENㅤ( ch. oneㅤㅤㅤ )ㅤstand by meㅤ!

⠀ genre.⠀high school au, enemies 2l⠀⠀⠀ wc.⠀3 . 5k words ⠀ cw.⠀mentions of unpleasant personal traumas/experiences, daddy issues, strong language. more warnings per chapter. no use of yn.

[⠀ abby talks.⠀]⠀⠀hihii! finally the first chapter of this series! i'm really excited to share it with you <3 i really hope you like it! this is just some sort of introductory chapter to whats to come 🙂‍↕️ enjoy itt!!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1986.⠀stand by me⠀⠀✶⠀⠀'i never had any friends later on like the ones i had when i was 12' !

YOU ENTERED YOUR ROOM AND PICKED UP THE BOOK THAT WAS LAID ON THE NIGHTSTAND. Picking Daisies on Sundays was your best friend’s favorite, and it had been waiting for you to read it several weeks now, but you never seemed to find the right moment to do so. For one reason or another, you have not yet had the opportunity to start it peacefully.

You laid down on your bed with the intention of finally starting to do it when your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. It was Wyatt.

Wyatt Scobell has been your neighbour for as long as you can remember, the guy you've always liked and, for some reason you still don't know, your boyfriend. It's not that you don't hold yourself in high esteem, it's just that you never really thought that your silly obsession would turn out to be anything more than that. Besides, it's not like he ever paid much attention to you. Until he did, of course.

His brother Walker, on the other hand.... You had always gotten along well, until in elementary school he started to be more rude to you, and ended up being the pain in the ass he is now. You had a bit of a hard time, at the beginning, but when you started dating Wyatt, you learned to avoid minding him so much. You assumed he was just jealous of you spending time with his beloved brother, and although sometimes you remember what your relationship was like and it makes you feel down, you know you can't force things. He doesn't seem to want to change, anyway.

You snapped out of your thoughts and opened Wyatt's message, and suddenly the characteristic nervousness of the last few weeks crept up on you, reminding you of how unusual his interactions with you have been getting. For a while now, he has been acting a little bit strange, but you always assumed it was due to the magnitude of his senior year in high school and the tough football practices he has to endure.

A few hours ago you texted him to see if he wanted to spend some time together to clear his mind, but when he didn't answer immediately when you knew he was online you tried not to think too much about it and locked yourself in the kitchen. You made a bunch of cookies, as you have been doing whenever something stressful happened to you and you didn't want to think about it.

His message, like most of them lately, was dry and sounded like an excuse: i have practice in a few hours and i need to finish an essay. The training thing you know is true, because you've gone to see him several times and cheer him on despite not having a clue about football—to support him. However, if this had happened a few months ago instead of in the situation you were at the moment, you were sure that he would tell you that you could go to his house while he wrote his essay, just to hang out with you.

You replied with a simple ‘okeyy, if you need anything you know i'm here 💘’ and let out a sigh. As much as you wanted to ignore it, this new attitude hurt you, and you knew it had influenced your mood because of comments your family and best friend had shared with you.

Thinking about the latter cheered you up a bit, and you decided to drop by her house to see her. That way you could bring her some cookies, which you knew she loved (and were not, at all, a payment for always listening to your rambles).

On your way downstairs, you spotted Noah, your little brother, in the living room, watching television. You passed by him and gently ruffled his hair, drawing a low grumble from him.

“Is Mom in the garden?” you asked, not seeing her in the kitchen, which is directly opposite the room you were in.

“Yes, I think she's talking to Stella,” he replied without taking his eyes off the TV, where Henry Hart was meeting with Charlotte and Jasper.

When you heard it you rolled your eyes, since Stella was the mother of Mason Thames, your next-door neighbor and Walker's best friend. You didn't dislike her, but you hadn't been able to avoid being the victim of some prank of her son because of your boyfriend's brother.

You went out into the garden and found your mother talking to Stella, both of them separated by the fence that divided your houses. You slowly approached the two women engaged in a lively conversation, with a quiet smile on your face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Thames,” you greeted Mason's mother politely, who curved her lips at you in reply. “Mom, I'm going over to Lucy's house for a while, and I'll also bring cookies to her and Betty.”

Mabel—that's your mother's name—turned to you at the sound of your voice and responded warmly, “Okay, baby. Just remember you have to cook dinner later.”

You nodded, letting her tuck a lock of hair behind your ear in a distracted gesture, and she added, “I'll stop by the cemetery for a while and then by the Scobell's.”

“Okay,” you replied as you tried not to show on your face the mixed feelings, the lump you can't swallow at the mere sound of Wyatt's last name. “I won't be back late, I promise. I'll leave a few cookies set aside for you to take to Henry and Cora. Tell them I said hi.”

“You tell Betty the same thing, and also that I have the pants ready that she asked me to fix, that she can come over one day for coffee and pick them up,” she says goodbye, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “Have a good time, honey.”

“Okay, Mom,” you reply with a smile, turning to Mason's mother. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Thames.”

Your mother has always been one of the strongest and most smiling people you've ever met, and certainly an example to follow day in and day out. Your father, a jerk of an uncle that your mother doesn't regret being with because thanks to him she had you and Noah, left home as soon as he found out that the three people living there would become four. Although before that he didn't perform his parental duties very well either, since he preferred to go from bar to bar to take care of his wife and daughter.

Your mother had a hard enough time, but she always reminds you that it was the best thing she could have done, that because of this you moved here, and she could get to know the families in the neighborhood, who helped her a lot to take care of you and Noah. For that same reason you and your brother grew up playing in the street with your new neighbors’ children, who immediately became friends.

You supposed that in the end it was good for you that Dexter—because father is not a word that defines him well—left you, since your mother was now happier than you've ever seen her.

Back in the kitchen, as you divided the cookies into three batches—for Lucy, for the Scobell's and for you to eat at home—you remembered your mother's plans for the afternoon. On the days a week that she was free she would go to the town cemetery to clean some graves that no longer had family members to do it, and to put out fresh flowers. She said that this way the passed ones would ‘feel beautiful and loved wherever they were’.

You're sure it was a habit she picked up from feeling guilty about moving and not being able to visit your grandparents' gravestones, but you think it's a nice thing to do and it doesn't cost anything, so you often accompanied her.

When you finished serving the cookies, you put yours aside, the bag for the Scobell's on the table and grabbed the ones you were going to leave at Lucy’s house. You took the house keys from the front cabinet and went back to the living room for a moment to say goodbye to Noah.

“Noah, I'm going to Lucy's, but I'll be back to get dinner ready,” you informed him from the doorframe. “Behave and don't be glued to the TV all afternoon, Swellview already has someone to save it,” you told him, walking over and handing him a cookie. “Don't tell Mom,” you add, winking at him.

And with everything finally ready, you walked out of the house and across the street.

YOU HAD MET LUCY THE DAY YOU FELL IN FRONT OF HER HOUSE AND SHE LAUGHED AT YOU. You recalled that her mother had had to run out to help you and carefully treat the wound in your knee, while she scolded Lucy for laughing her head off and not warning her or seeking help for you. It had happened a long time ago, but you both liked to remember it, because since that day you had become inseparable.

Besides, you remember it as fate, since you had technically fallen in front of your house, but since your mother was watching Noah—who was only one year old—she couldn't notice what had  happened,and it was the neighbor from the house across the street who took care of you.

“Hi, darling! What a joy to see you, how is everything going?” As you arrived, Betty greeted you, giving you a short but comforting hug.

“Very well, Betty, and you?” you answered, and didn't forget to share your mom's words: “My mother told me that she's already got your pants sewed up and ready, so you can drop by any day now.”

“Oh, Mabel is always so kind. She's an artist, you know? It's a pity she couldn't pursue a career in sewing...,” she gave you a loving smile. “Come in, come in, don't stay at the entrance.”

You entered her house, which was literally the same as yours except for the decorations, and headed over to the kitchen while Betty closed the door behind you.

“I brought some cookies I made this afternoon, I'm sure Lucy will like the surprise,” you said, as you set the plate on the table and grabbed a few to take to your best friend.

“Thank you so much, honey, there was no need,” she beamed, giving you a knowing smile. “you're a sunshine. Lucy will obviously be thrilled, she's upstairs in her room.”

“Thank you, Betty,” you told her goodbye, picking up a smaller plate with a few cookies to offer Lucy.

You went up to her room, which was in exactly the same place as yours: in the attic, with a balcony from which you could access the roof.

When you were little, your parents wouldn't let you go out as a precaution, but as you grew, you spent entire nights watching the stars and talking about anything and everything until you fell asleep. Those were some of your best memories with her.

The door was closed, and although you were sure she had her headphones on, listening to some Gracie Abrams song, you knocked anyway with your knuckles before opening it.

You found Lucy lying on her bed on her stomach, with what you thought was the latest addition to the bookshelf full of books on her left. On her head rested said headphones, as you had already guessed, and near her feet was Marie, her precious cat, sleeping peacefully.

Lucy was a very pretty girl, with long blonde hair and a beautiful smile. Anyone who saw her looked more than once, and it was only natural; however, it was even better if you got to know her. She always tried to help others, and to keep a smile on her face even if she wasn't having a good time—just so you wouldn't feel bad. You were very lucky to have her, and so you tried to make up for your dramas and problems with kind words and selfless gifts.

You sneaked into the room, and after leaving the plate of biscuits on her desk, you pounced on her, careful not to crush poor Marie, who just ran away in terror. You wrapped your arms around Lucy as you kissed her head, some sort of apology for the sudden startle.

“Oh my GOD!” she screamed, her pulse racing and eyes wide, comically open at you. “You almost killed me, don't you know how to knock?” she added reproachfully, removing her headphones and accepting that she will not be able to shake off your clingy embrace.

“Well, for your information I did call,” you replied, with a mocking tone. “The thing is that some lady has her music on at full volume and it's impossible for her to hear me.”

“There are other ways to say hello that don't involve throwing yourself at me, anyway,” she grumbled.

“That's true,” you said, making a sheepish gesture. “I guess if you're so upset… you won't want homemade cookies made by your annoooying neighbour.”

You watched with amusement as her eyes lit up, and she broke free from your arms, her body sliding from beside yours and standing up to run to her desk and grab the plate.

“Cookies!” she shouted excitedly, taking one and biting into it with a soft hum, savouring it with her eyes closed. “Just know that cookie blackmail won't always work,” she warned with an incriminating tone, but a delighted look on her face.

“The biscuits are actually an excuse for what I came to talk to you about,” you added, “the hugs and kisses were supposed to justify the scare.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes and looked at you accusingly.

“And what is it that we need to talk about?” she asked, with a more serious edge in her voice.

“It's about Wyatt—” you start, but are cut off by the cookie-eater.

“If you're here to remind me how lonely I am or what a jerk Wyatt is, you can leave,” she cut you off, but her tone was soft while she pointed at the door. She was just trying to ease the tension on your shoulders. “But the biscuits stay here.”

“No, it's not that…” you kept talking with a stern expression. At that she paused, the plate still in her hands, and sat down next to you on the bed. “It's just that—”

But the words choked on your throat you couldn't continue.

“Come on, girl, it's okay,” she warmly pronounced, resting a hand on your shoulder while you tried to get air back in your lungs. “If you can't talk about it now, we'll wait as long as you need.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said when you had calmed down enough, cheeks flushed. “It’s okay, I just—Wyatt's been really distant lately,” you began slowly, surely, eyes on the palms of your hands in your lap so you didn't have to look at Lucy's expression. “At first I thought it was because of school and practice, but now I guess that's what I chose to believe so I didn't have to think about the possibility that he's getting tired of me.”

Your tone decreased as you spoke, as you exposed to your best friend all the thoughts and emotions you’ve been feeling and holding on for so long, as if they were going to go away.

You raised your head at last and your gaze met Lucy's, who looked at you with a haze of pity but mostly unfiltered love. She put the biscuit she was eating aside and took your hands.

“Listen,” she began carefully, as if you were a very fragile object and the slightest clatter could break you, “I know it's complicated, because he's your first love and all, but if you feel this way, you need to talk to him about it. If he really loves you—and as much as I don't like him, he seems to—he should listen to you and tell you whatever it’s going on; if there's an explanation, or ask for forgiveness or something. You can't go on like this because the situation will end up consuming you, and that's not healthy. You don't deserve it.”

At the beginning she was tactful, warm and honey meeting your eyes, but as she continued to talk to you her voice got more serious, like started to realise what she was saying and the importance of it.

She ended up looking at you intently, attentive to your reaction.

“I know what I have to do,” you confessed, “but I'm afraid of what he might say to me. What if he's really tired of me? What if he really wants to end the relationship?”

“Babes, I hear you, but without talking to him, you won't know if those ‘What ifs’ are true or not. What if he's just overwhelmed by what this academic year implies for his future? What if he's not knowing how to handle his emotions in the right way? We could think of a thousand different ‘What ifs’, but without telling him anything you'll never know which ones are true and which ones aren't.”

Her words were like a vase of cold water and a halo of hope at the same time. You were terrified of what could come out of that possible conversation, but Lucy was right: there was no point in racking your brains and creating hypotheses if you didn't know what the reality was.

At your silence, Lucy slightly raised your head so that you looked at her, her eyes giving you that reassurance that comforted you so much.

“Let's do something,” she told you without taking her eyes off yours, her hands still clutching yours protectively. “Sleep on it tonight, but if you're still not convinced, there's always another option.”

“Another option?” you asked quizzically. 

You had come to her house hoping that Lucy would come up with some miraculous solution, but logically, her idea ended up being the same as yours; and you hadn’t really expected to be another one. What else can you do but face reality and talk to Wyatt?

“Instead of talking to Wyatt,” Lucy pronounced, knowing you were pending on her every word, “talk to Walker.”

“What?! What does Walker have to do with anything?”

You untangled your hands and straightened up on the bed, standing a little higher than she was.

“Lucy, you know how Walker is,” you retorted, unable to understand why she would engage with that option at all. “He won't talk to me to begin with, but I don't want to talk to him either. He's an insufferable pain in the ass who only thinks about himself and all he wants is attention.”

“Come on,” she answered, before you could launch into another string of protests. “For starters, going by those words it sounds like it's Wyatt you're describing, not his brother. And the last time you were serious with him was in fourth grade. Since then all you've done is pick on each other.”

She paused for a moment, but her eyes beamed when she thought of another argument: “Besides, he's his brother. He's one of the people who knows him best and lives with him day to day. He'll know what to do to put things right.”

She then stared at you with satisfaction, as if her great idea was just magnificent. The truth was that nothing she had said was a lie—except, of course, the insults she had so wantonly hurled at Wyatt—but you refused to turn to Walker like a helpless puppy, least of all to solve any problems you could have with his brother.

“Let's say I go along with your terrible plan and talk to Walker,” you accept, just for a second, and witness a smirk appear across her face. “He's not going to want to help. No way. After everything I've done to him? And everything he's done to me? No way,” and you kept repeating, like you wanted to convince yourself.

That  was undeniable. In the course of your enmity, you have played many pranks on him to make him pay for the tasteless jokes he—sometimes accompanied by Mason—played on you. And vice versa.

For a moment, Lucy finally seemed to look defeated, but before you could even enjoy the satisfaction a hint of a wicked grin curved her mouth.

“Well…,” she started looking everywhere but at you, clearly relishing on the moment. “You can always offer him something in return,” she said, gaze fixed on you. “Like doing his homework for a month, or something. I don't know.”

“Really, Lucy?”“Really,” she looked at you, like reading your mind, this time a little bit more serious. “You know he's your best bet if you don't want to talk to Wyatt. “I’m sure Walker would be more than happy to help you,” she picked up the half-finished biscuit again and took a bite. “If not, we can always kill Wyatt. You know, no body, no crime.”

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© abby.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🐚 ˚. ⋆͏

[faultcline]

⠀ ㅤ𓈒 ⠀ 🧸ㅤIN BETWEENㅤ( ch. oneㅤㅤㅤ )ㅤstand by meㅤ!

⠀ genre.⠀high school au, enemies 2l⠀⠀⠀ wc.⠀3 . 5k words ⠀ cw.⠀mentions of unpleasant personal traumas/experiences, daddy issues, strong language. more warnings per chapter. no use of yn.

[⠀ abby talks.⠀]⠀⠀hihii! finally the first chapter of this series! i'm really excited to share it with you <3 i really hope you like it! this is just some sort of introductory chapter to whats to come 🙂‍↕️ enjoy itt!!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ1986.⠀stand by me⠀⠀✶⠀⠀'i never had any friends later on like the ones i had when i was 12' !

YOU ENTERED YOUR ROOM AND PICKED UP THE BOOK THAT WAS LAID ON THE NIGHTSTAND. Picking Daisies on Sundays was your best friend’s favorite, and it had been waiting for you to read it several weeks now, but you never seemed to find the right moment to do so. For one reason or another, you have not yet had the opportunity to start it peacefully.

You laid down on your bed with the intention of finally starting to do it when your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. It was Wyatt.

Wyatt Scobell has been your neighbour for as long as you can remember, the guy you've always liked and, for some reason you still don't know, your boyfriend. It's not that you don't hold yourself in high esteem, it's just that you never really thought that your silly obsession would turn out to be anything more than that. Besides, it's not like he ever paid much attention to you. Until he did, of course.

His brother Walker, on the other hand.... You had always gotten along well, until in elementary school he started to be more rude to you, and ended up being the pain in the ass he is now. You had a bit of a hard time, at the beginning, but when you started dating Wyatt, you learned to avoid minding him so much. You assumed he was just jealous of you spending time with his beloved brother, and although sometimes you remember what your relationship was like and it makes you feel down, you know you can't force things. He doesn't seem to want to change, anyway.

You snapped out of your thoughts and opened Wyatt's message, and suddenly the characteristic nervousness of the last few weeks crept up on you, reminding you of how unusual his interactions with you have been getting. For a while now, he has been acting a little bit strange, but you always assumed it was due to the magnitude of his senior year in high school and the tough football practices he has to endure.

A few hours ago you texted him to see if he wanted to spend some time together to clear his mind, but when he didn't answer immediately when you knew he was online you tried not to think too much about it and locked yourself in the kitchen. You made a bunch of cookies, as you have been doing whenever something stressful happened to you and you didn't want to think about it.

His message, like most of them lately, was dry and sounded like an excuse: i have practice in a few hours and i need to finish an essay. The training thing you know is true, because you've gone to see him several times and cheer him on despite not having a clue about football—to support him. However, if this had happened a few months ago instead of in the situation you were at the moment, you were sure that he would tell you that you could go to his house while he wrote his essay, just to hang out with you.

You replied with a simple ‘okeyy, if you need anything you know i'm here 💘’ and let out a sigh. As much as you wanted to ignore it, this new attitude hurt you, and you knew it had influenced your mood because of comments your family and best friend had shared with you.

Thinking about the latter cheered you up a bit, and you decided to drop by her house to see her. That way you could bring her some cookies, which you knew she loved (and were not, at all, a payment for always listening to your rambles).

On your way downstairs, you spotted Noah, your little brother, in the living room, watching television. You passed by him and gently ruffled his hair, drawing a low grumble from him.

“Is Mom in the garden?” you asked, not seeing her in the kitchen, which is directly opposite the room you were in.

“Yes, I think she's talking to Stella,” he replied without taking his eyes off the TV, where Henry Hart was meeting with Charlotte and Jasper.

When you heard it you rolled your eyes, since Stella was the mother of Mason Thames, your next-door neighbor and Walker's best friend. You didn't dislike her, but you hadn't been able to avoid being the victim of some prank of her son because of your boyfriend's brother.

You went out into the garden and found your mother talking to Stella, both of them separated by the fence that divided your houses. You slowly approached the two women engaged in a lively conversation, with a quiet smile on your face.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Thames,” you greeted Mason's mother politely, who curved her lips at you in reply. “Mom, I'm going over to Lucy's house for a while, and I'll also bring cookies to her and Betty.”

Mabel—that's your mother's name—turned to you at the sound of your voice and responded warmly, “Okay, baby. Just remember you have to cook dinner later.”

You nodded, letting her tuck a lock of hair behind your ear in a distracted gesture, and she added, “I'll stop by the cemetery for a while and then by the Scobell's.”

“Okay,” you replied as you tried not to show on your face the mixed feelings, the lump you can't swallow at the mere sound of Wyatt's last name. “I won't be back late, I promise. I'll leave a few cookies set aside for you to take to Henry and Cora. Tell them I said hi.”

“You tell Betty the same thing, and also that I have the pants ready that she asked me to fix, that she can come over one day for coffee and pick them up,” she says goodbye, giving you a kiss on the forehead. “Have a good time, honey.”

“Okay, Mom,” you reply with a smile, turning to Mason's mother. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Thames.”

Your mother has always been one of the strongest and most smiling people you've ever met, and certainly an example to follow day in and day out. Your father, a jerk of an uncle that your mother doesn't regret being with because thanks to him she had you and Noah, left home as soon as he found out that the three people living there would become four. Although before that he didn't perform his parental duties very well either, since he preferred to go from bar to bar to take care of his wife and daughter.

Your mother had a hard enough time, but she always reminds you that it was the best thing she could have done, that because of this you moved here, and she could get to know the families in the neighborhood, who helped her a lot to take care of you and Noah. For that same reason you and your brother grew up playing in the street with your new neighbors’ children, who immediately became friends.

You supposed that in the end it was good for you that Dexter—because father is not a word that defines him well—left you, since your mother was now happier than you've ever seen her.

Back in the kitchen, as you divided the cookies into three batches—for Lucy, for the Scobell's and for you to eat at home—you remembered your mother's plans for the afternoon. On the days a week that she was free she would go to the town cemetery to clean some graves that no longer had family members to do it, and to put out fresh flowers. She said that this way the passed ones would ‘feel beautiful and loved wherever they were’.

You're sure it was a habit she picked up from feeling guilty about moving and not being able to visit your grandparents' gravestones, but you think it's a nice thing to do and it doesn't cost anything, so you often accompanied her.

When you finished serving the cookies, you put yours aside, the bag for the Scobell's on the table and grabbed the ones you were going to leave at Lucy’s house. You took the house keys from the front cabinet and went back to the living room for a moment to say goodbye to Noah.

“Noah, I'm going to Lucy's, but I'll be back to get dinner ready,” you informed him from the doorframe. “Behave and don't be glued to the TV all afternoon, Swellview already has someone to save it,” you told him, walking over and handing him a cookie. “Don't tell Mom,” you add, winking at him.

And with everything finally ready, you walked out of the house and across the street.

YOU HAD MET LUCY THE DAY YOU FELL IN FRONT OF HER HOUSE AND SHE LAUGHED AT YOU. You recalled that her mother had had to run out to help you and carefully treat the wound in your knee, while she scolded Lucy for laughing her head off and not warning her or seeking help for you. It had happened a long time ago, but you both liked to remember it, because since that day you had become inseparable.

Besides, you remember it as fate, since you had technically fallen in front of your house, but since your mother was watching Noah—who was only one year old—she couldn't notice what had happened, and it was the neighbor from the house across the street who took care of you.

“Hi, darling! What a joy to see you, how is everything going?” As you arrived, Betty greeted you, giving you a short but comforting hug.

“Very well, Betty, and you?” you answered, and didn't forget to share your mom's words: “My mother told me that she's already got your pants sewed up and ready, so you can drop by any day now.”

“Oh, Mabel is always so kind. She's an artist, you know? It's a pity she couldn't pursue a career in sewing...,” she gave you a loving smile. “Come in, come in, don't stay at the entrance.”

You entered her house, which was literally the same as yours except for the decorations, and headed over to the kitchen while Betty closed the door behind you.

“I brought some cookies I made this afternoon, I'm sure Lucy will like the surprise,” you said, as you set the plate on the table and grabbed a few to take to your best friend.

“Thank you so much, honey, there was no need,” she beamed, giving you a knowing smile. “you're a sunshine. Lucy will obviously be thrilled, she's upstairs in her room.”

“Thank you, Betty,” you told her goodbye, picking up a smaller plate with a few cookies to offer Lucy.

You went up to her room, which was in exactly the same place as yours: in the attic, with a balcony from which you could access the roof.

When you were little, your parents wouldn't let you go out as a precaution, but as you grew, you spent entire nights watching the stars and talking about anything and everything until you fell asleep. Those were some of your best memories with her.

The door was closed, and although you were sure she had her headphones on, listening to some Gracie Abrams song, you knocked anyway with your knuckles before opening it.

You found Lucy lying on her bed on her stomach, with what you thought was the latest addition to the bookshelf full of books on her left. On her head rested said headphones, as you had already guessed, and near her feet was Marie, her precious cat, sleeping peacefully.

Lucy was a very pretty girl, with long blonde hair and a beautiful smile. Anyone who saw her looked more than once, and it was only natural; however, it was even better if you got to know her. She always tried to help others, and to keep a smile on her face even if she wasn't having a good time—just so you wouldn't feel bad. You were very lucky to have her, and so you tried to make up for your dramas and problems with kind words and selfless gifts.

You sneaked into the room, and after leaving the plate of biscuits on her desk, you pounced on her, careful not to crush poor Marie, who just ran away in terror. You wrapped your arms around Lucy as you kissed her head, some sort of apology for the sudden startle.

“Oh my GOD!” she screamed, her pulse racing and eyes wide, comically open at you. “You almost killed me, don't you know how to knock?” she added reproachfully, removing her headphones and accepting that she will not be able to shake off your clingy embrace.

“Well, for your information I did call,” you replied, with a mocking tone. “The thing is that some lady has her music on at full volume and it's impossible for her to hear me.”

“There are other ways to say hello that don't involve throwing yourself at me, anyway,” she grumbled.

“That's true,” you said, making a sheepish gesture. “I guess if you're so upset… you won't want homemade cookies made by your annoooying neighbour.”

You watched with amusement as her eyes lit up, and she broke free from your arms, her body sliding from beside yours and standing up to run to her desk and grab the plate.

“Cookies!” she shouted excitedly, taking one and biting into it with a soft hum, savouring it with her eyes closed. “Just know that cookie blackmail won't always work,” she warned with an incriminating tone, but a delighted look on her face.

“The biscuits are actually an excuse for what I came to talk to you about,” you added, “the hugs and kisses were supposed to justify the scare.”

Lucy narrowed her eyes and looked at you accusingly.

“And what is it that we need to talk about?” she asked, with a more serious edge in her voice.

“It's about Wyatt—” you start, but are cut off by the cookie-eater.

“If you're here to remind me how lonely I am or what a jerk Wyatt is, you can leave,” she cut you off, but her tone was soft while she pointed at the door. She was just trying to ease the tension on your shoulders. “But the biscuits stay here.”

“No, it's not that…” you kept talking with a stern expression. At that she paused, the plate still in her hands, and sat down next to you on the bed. “It's just that—”

But the words choked on your throat you couldn't continue.

“Come on, girl, it's okay,” she warmly pronounced, resting a hand on your shoulder while you tried to get air back in your lungs. “If you can't talk about it now, we'll wait as long as you need.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said when you had calmed down enough, cheeks flushed. “It’s okay, I just—Wyatt's been really distant lately,” you began slowly, surely, eyes on the palms of your hands in your lap so you didn't have to look at Lucy's expression. “At first I thought it was because of school and practice, but now I guess that's what I chose to believe so I didn't have to think about the possibility that he's getting tired of me.”

Your tone decreased as you spoke, as you exposed to your best friend all the thoughts and emotions you’ve been feeling and holding on for so long, as if they were going to go away.

You raised your head at last and your gaze met Lucy's, who looked at you with a haze of pity but mostly unfiltered love. She put the biscuit she was eating aside and took your hands.

“Listen,” she began carefully, as if you were a very fragile object and the slightest clatter could break you, “I know it's complicated, because he's your first love and all, but if you feel this way, you need to talk to him about it. If he really loves you—and as much as I don't like him, he seems to—he should listen to you and tell you whatever it’s going on; if there's an explanation, or ask for forgiveness or something. You can't go on like this because the situation will end up consuming you, and that's not healthy. You don't deserve it.”

At the beginning she was tactful, warm and honey meeting your eyes, but as she continued to talk to you her voice got more serious, like started to realise what she was saying and the importance of it.

She ended up looking at you intently, attentive to your reaction.

“I know what I have to do,” you confessed, “but I'm afraid of what he might say to me. What if he's really tired of me? What if he really wants to end the relationship?”

“Babes, I hear you, but without talking to him, you won't know if those ‘What ifs’ are true or not. What if he's just overwhelmed by what this academic year implies for his future? What if he's not knowing how to handle his emotions in the right way? We could think of a thousand different ‘What ifs’, but without telling him anything you'll never know which ones are true and which ones aren't.”

Her words were like a vase of cold water and a halo of hope at the same time. You were terrified of what could come out of that possible conversation, but Lucy was right: there was no point in racking your brains and creating hypotheses if you didn't know what the reality was.

At your silence, Lucy slightly raised your head so that you looked at her, her eyes giving you that reassurance that comforted you so much.

“Let's do something,” she told you without taking her eyes off yours, her hands still clutching yours protectively. “Sleep on it tonight, but if you're still not convinced, there's always another option.”

“Another option?” you asked quizzically. 

You had come to her house hoping that Lucy would come up with some miraculous solution, but logically, her idea ended up being the same as yours; and you hadn’t really expected to be another one. What else can you do but face reality and talk to Wyatt?

“Instead of talking to Wyatt,” Lucy pronounced, knowing you were pending on her every word, “talk to Walker.”

“What?! What does Walker have to do with anything?”

You untangled your hands and straightened up on the bed, standing a little higher than she was.

“Lucy, you know how Walker is,” you retorted, unable to understand why she would engage with that option at all. “He won't talk to me to begin with, but I don't want to talk to him either. He's an insufferable pain in the ass who only thinks about himself and all he wants is attention.”

“Come on,” she answered, before you could launch into another string of protests. “For starters, going by those words it sounds like it's Wyatt you're describing, not his brother. And the last time you were serious with him was in fourth grade. Since then all you've done is pick on each other.”

She paused for a moment, but her eyes beamed when she thought of another argument: “Besides, he's his brother. He's one of the people who knows him best and lives with him day to day. He'll know what to do to put things right.”

She then stared at you with satisfaction, as if her great idea was just magnificent. The truth was that nothing she had said was a lie—except, of course, the insults she had so wantonly hurled at Wyatt—but you refused to turn to Walker like a helpless puppy, least of all to solve any problems you could have with his brother.

“Let's say I go along with your terrible plan and talk to Walker,” you accept, just for a second, and witness a smirk appear across her face. “He's not going to want to help. No way. After everything I've done to him? And everything he's done to me? No way,” and you kept repeating, like you wanted to convince yourself.

That  was undeniable. In the course of your enmity, you have played many pranks on him to make him pay for the tasteless jokes he—sometimes accompanied by Mason—played on you. And vice versa.

For a moment, Lucy finally seemed to look defeated, but before you could even enjoy the satisfaction a hint of a wicked grin curved her mouth.

“Well…,” she started looking everywhere but at you, clearly relishing on the moment. “You can always offer him something in return,” she said, gaze fixed on you. “Like doing his homework for a month, or something. I don't know.”

“Really, Lucy?”

“Really,” she looked at you, like reading your mind, this time a little bit more serious. “You know he's your best bet if you don't want to talk to Wyatt. “I’m sure Walker would be more than happy to help you,” she picked up the half-finished biscuit again and took a bite. “If not, we can always kill Wyatt. You know, no body, no crime.”

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© abby.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🐚 ˚. ⋆͏

[faultcline]

── ` ᥫ᭡　taglist!　 @tillysslife 　 @mossypearlz 　 @rosedustdreams .

⠀ ㅤ𓈒 ⠀ 🧸ㅤIN BETWEENㅤ( w. scobellㅤㅤㅤ )ㅤ!

⠀ genre.⠀high school au, enemies 2l⠀⠀⠀ status.⠀on going ! ⠀ cw.⠀mentions of unpleasant personal traumas/experiences, daddy issues, strong language. more warnings per chapter. no use of yn.

[⠀ abby talks.⠀]⠀⠀happy monday! best day to be a walker lover 🙂‍↕️ as someone oBsEsSeD with better than the movies—and when i tell you obsessed, i really mean it (would be married to wes by now if he didn't make the bestest couple with liz)— i had to write something at least inspired by it. hence mr scobell and his no brother and the e2l you'll read here hehe i really hope you like it!!!!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑒𝑠𝑡.⠀june 2025⠀⠀✶⠀⠀overview !

you've started to notice how your boyfriend, wyatt scobell, is slowly getting tired of you. in a last attempt to save your relationship you decide that your only solution is to turn to his annoying brother, walker, to try fix everything before having to face wyatt.

⠀chapters.

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀one⠀⠀──⠀⠀stand by me 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀two⠀⠀──⠀⠀the proposal 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀three⠀⠀──⠀⠀you've got mail 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀four⠀⠀──⠀⠀friends with benefits 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀five⠀⠀──⠀⠀. 　:　wips.

... more soon !

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　── ` ᥫ᭡　taglist !

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© abby.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🐚 ˚. ⋆͏

[faultcline]

⠀ ㅤ𓈒 ⠀ 🧸ㅤIN BETWEENㅤ( w. scobellㅤㅤㅤ )ㅤ!

⠀ genre.⠀high school au, enemies 2l⠀⠀⠀ status.⠀on going ! ⠀ cw.⠀mentions of unpleasant personal traumas/experiences, daddy issues, strong language. more warnings per chapter. no use of yn.

[⠀ abby talks.⠀]⠀⠀happy monday! best day to be a walker lover 🙂‍↕️ as someone oBsEsSeD with better than the movies—and when i tell you obsessed, i really mean it (would be married to wes by now if he didn't make the bestest couple with liz)— i had to write something at least inspired by it. hence mr scobell and his no brother and the e2l you'll read here hehe i really hope you like it!!!!!!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑒𝑠𝑡.⠀june 2025⠀⠀✶⠀⠀overview !

you've started to notice how your boyfriend, wyatt scobell, is slowly getting tired of you. in a last attempt to save your relationship you decide that your only solution is to turn to his annoying brother, walker, to try fix everything before having to face wyatt.

⠀chapters.

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀one⠀⠀──⠀⠀stand by me 　:　3 . 5k !

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀two⠀⠀──⠀⠀the proposal 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀three⠀⠀──⠀⠀you've got mail 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀four⠀⠀──⠀⠀friends with benefits 　:　soon!

🧸๋࣭⭑⠀⠀five⠀⠀──⠀⠀. 　:　wips.

... more soon !

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　── ` ᥫ᭡　taglist !

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© abby.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🐚 ˚. ⋆͏

[faultcline]

── ` ᥫ᭡　taglist!　 @narc1ssism 　 @lonelylandofan 　 @audrey8864 　 @ange1-tears .

⠀ ㅤ𓈒 ⠀ ✉️ㅤEMAILS I CAN'T SENDㅤ( m. thamesㅤㅤㅤ )ㅤ!

⠀ genre.⠀high school au, strangers/e2l⠀⠀⠀ status.⠀on going ! ⠀ cw.⠀mentions of unpleasant personal traumas/experiences, family issues, strong language, anxiety/panic attacks. no use of yn.

[⠀ abby talks.⠀]⠀⠀happy sunday and welcome to emails i can't send! i had the idea of this series after remembering some old summer camp anecdotes and the idea of replicating the sweet vibe of a summer love was just too good to pass on! it will be a little bit angsty around the edges, but generally fluff and what i think are usual teen experiences. i really hope you like it <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑒𝑠𝑡.⠀june 2025⠀⠀✶⠀⠀overview !

after your parents' messy divorce, you ended up moving in with your grandmother, with whom you spent the last summer you were truly happy. once in her lovely village, you will face a new high school, a new life, and the inevitable reunion with mason thames, the summer crush that never answered your letters. will love be stronger than rejection?

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀prologue⠀⠀──⠀⠀fast times 　:　soon!

⠀chapters.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀one⠀⠀──⠀⠀emails i can't send 　:　soon!

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀two⠀⠀──⠀⠀skinny dipping 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀three⠀⠀──⠀⠀vicious 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀four⠀⠀──⠀⠀read your mind 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀five⠀⠀──⠀⠀tornado warnings 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀six⠀⠀──⠀⠀because i liked a boy 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀seven⠀⠀──⠀⠀already over 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀eight⠀⠀──⠀⠀how many things 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀nine⠀⠀──⠀⠀bet you wanna 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀ten⠀⠀──⠀⠀bad for bussiness 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀eleven⠀⠀──⠀⠀decode 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀twelve⠀⠀──⠀⠀nonsense 　:　wips.

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© abby.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🐚 ˚. ⋆͏

[faultcline]

⠀ ㅤ𓈒 ⠀ ✉️ㅤEMAILS I CAN'T SENDㅤ( m. thamesㅤㅤㅤ )ㅤ!

⠀ genre.⠀high school au, strangers/e2l⠀⠀⠀ status.⠀on going ! ⠀ cw.⠀mentions of unpleasant personal traumas/experiences, family issues, strong language, anxiety/panic attacks. more warnings per chapter. no use of yn.

[⠀ abby talks.⠀]⠀⠀happy sunday and welcome to emails i can't send! i had the idea of this series after remembering some old summer camp anecdotes and the idea of replicating the sweet vibe of a summer love was just too good to pass on! it will be a little bit angsty around the edges, but generally fluff and what i think are usual teen experiences. i really hope you like it <3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑒𝑠𝑡.⠀june 2025⠀⠀✶⠀⠀overview !

after your parents' messy divorce, you ended up moving in with your grandmother, with whom you spent the last summer you were truly happy. once in her lovely village, you will face a new high school, a new life, and the inevitable reunion with mason thames, the summer crush that never answered your letters. will love be stronger than rejection?

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀prologue⠀⠀──⠀⠀fast times 　:　soon!

⠀chapters.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀one⠀⠀──⠀⠀emails i can't send 　:　soon!

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀two⠀⠀──⠀⠀skinny dipping 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀three⠀⠀──⠀⠀vicious 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀four⠀⠀──⠀⠀read your mind 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀five⠀⠀──⠀⠀tornado warnings 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀six⠀⠀──⠀⠀because i liked a boy 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀seven⠀⠀──⠀⠀already over 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀eight⠀⠀──⠀⠀how many things 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀nine⠀⠀──⠀⠀bet you wanna 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀ten⠀⠀──⠀⠀bad for bussiness 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀eleven⠀⠀──⠀⠀decode 　:　wips.

✉️๋࣭⭑⠀⠀twelve⠀⠀──⠀⠀nonsense 　:　wips.

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　── ` ᥫ᭡　taglist !

ㅤㅤwith love ,　© abby.　do not copy, translate, repost, share this work as yours on other platforms or feed it to the ai !　🐚 ˚. ⋆͏

[faultcline]

　ㅤㅤㅤin between　ᥫ᭡　walker　scobell.

you begin to notice how your boyfriend, your first love and the guy you have always been in love with, begins to lose interest in you.

the jokes that were always funny have turned into a small, closed-mouthed smile; the endless hugs and displays of affection, into awkward and less frequent touching; and the infinite time together, into meetings two or three days a week of a few minutes excused with hypothetical obligations.

you are aware that the last year is difficult and of hard and incessant work, especially if you are one of the best players of your soccer team, but you do not understand how it is that your boyfriend, once so affectionate and kind, now prefers to spend his days locked up at home or training rather than being with you.

determined not to let go of your relationship because of a small bump in your road, you decide what your best solution is, despite what it implies and its likely consequences.

you have no choice but to meet with walker scobell, your boyfriend's brother and the most unbearable and annoying person you know, to try to seek his help and save your precious relationship.

what is obvious is that walker won't accept right away, and he won't make it so easy for you. anyway, maybe this resolution will end up being the right one... although not in the way you could have ever imagined.

🧸⠀⠀⠀⠀answer this post to get into the taglist !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀TO BE RELEASED ────── early june 2025.

[faultcline]

　ㅤㅤㅤthe loneliest　ᥫ᭡　drew　starkey.

after taking some medical tests, your life takes an unexpected turn, making you question every decision. therefore, you decide to meet with your best friend, drew starkey, and tell him the news. however, drew's plans for that get-together were completely different, and the novelty will completely shatter him, leading him to get into a car accident.

with your friend's temporary amnesia and your own diagnosis, you'll have to stay calm and determine what your priorities are. will you be able to hold on to hope? will love be able to overcome death?

🪽⠀⠀⠀⠀answer this post to get into the taglist !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀TO BE RELEASED ────── late june 2025.

[faultcline]

　ㅤㅤㅤemails i can't send　ᥫ᭡　mason　thames.

after years of not seeing your grandmother, your parents decided it would be best if you and your sister went to north carolina for the summer so you could visit her. you also decided to attend a summer camp that is held there every year, where you could meet new people and collect experiences.

during the month of july, the days with sarah, your grandmother, turned into twenty-four hours filled with activities in the woods, dips in lakes and songs by the campfire. but all things come to an end, and with it came goodbyes to all your new friends, and to someone extra special, mason thames. between tears and hurried hugs, you promised not to forget each other and to keep in touch by post.

but your letters never received a reply. of the promises made, you are sure that the first one you can't break, for you will never forget mason thames, your first summer love. however, it seems he never had it in mind to keep his word, and with that, all your hopes died.

now, back in ohio, you will have to face the separation of your parents, which will lead you to move permanently to that house you lived in during the summer and that brings back such good—and bad—memories.

will you be able to handle a reunion you didn't expect? will you be able to deal with a new high school and your heart still broken? will love be stronger than rejection?

✉️⠀⠀⠀⠀answer this post to get into the taglist !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀TO BE RELEASED ────── early june 2025.

[faultcline]

⎯　( 🫐 )　...　MY TUMBLR ARCHIVES !　

　it's abby ( 𝟤𝟢𝟢𝟪. ) !　she / her, may taurus, percabeth 's daughter.

written by gracie abrams. drowned in music, too much romance books to read, wavy hair, thread and bead (friendship) bracelets, golden jewelry, vans, warm hazel gaze, cat lover. summer, tan skin, salty waves. madelyn cline lover, tate mcrae #1 fan.

ㅤmasterlist.ㅤcarrd.ㅤ@ faultcline on wttp.

ㅤlatestㅤ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .ㅤhere !