Chapter 23: Pt. 1 | You Have A Pretty Magical Girlfriend

"At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place. But believe us when we say that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a journey.” — Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events

The sound of my own screaming wakes me up on Tuesday morning as I thrash around in my bed. Images from that night invade my brain for the first time in weeks, maybe months. I feel myself break out in a cold sweat and my heart starts thumping so hard and fast in my chest that I’m actually afraid that it might burst open.

Still actively engaged in my nightmare, I kick my covers off of me and raise my arms up, bracing them above me. In my nightmare, I’m back there, in Flynn’s bedroom at the frat house, trying to get him off of me. He’s just so much stronger than I am though, so it’s nearly impossible. I don’t think that you could call it a nightmare though, because it isn’t something that my imagination concocted up, it’s exactly what happened a tad bit over a year ago.

“NO! FLYNN, STOP!” I shout as loudly as my lungs will allow as Flynn starts tearing at my dress.

Now, I know that I’m not actually back in this situation and in the back of my mind I know that I’m fine. I know that this isn’t happening to me again and that this is just an incredibly vivid memory that I tried my best to repress so long ago. In case you haven’t noticed though (which, I think, you’d have to be blind to have not noticed), I struggle majorly with anxiety. That being said, it’s kind of hard for me to get it through to my mind I am not back in that place, hence the freaking out.

“Sawyer!” Beckett’s voice suddenly exclaims and I feel him violently shaking me. “Sawyer, wake up!” He demands, still roughly shaking my shoulder.

My eyes snap open then and take a few seconds to adjust to the bright lighting in my bedroom—I guess Beckett turned the light one when he came in. He’s sitting on the edge of my bed, looking down at me with a worried expression etched across his face.

I sit up in my bed then and tears start streaming down my face as I try to get my breathing back under control. I wrap my arms around my knees and pull them to my chest, rocking back and forth, trying to recover from my brief but still all around awful panic attack just now.

“Are you okay?” Beckett wonders, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me in for a somewhat comforting hug.

“No,” I mumble through the tears, shaking my head at him. “No, I’m not—I thought I was done feeling like this.”

“Feeling like what?” Beckett queries, letting me rest my head on his shoulder as I continue to cry.

“Feeling like everything that happened that night was my fault,” I mutter with a shaky sigh then.

“Sawyer, how many times am I going to have to tell you it wasn’t your fault before you start believing it?” He asks. “If anything, it was my fault—I’m your big brother, I should have protected you.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Beck,” I tell him through the tears. I wonder then what Graham’s doing—I bet he’s asleep, but I really wish he was here, because he always knows how to make me feel better. 

“Well, it damn sure wasn’t your fault,” He replies. A few seconds later, my bedroom door swings open, and I hear someone walk in, but I’m too busy crying my heart out to look and see who it is.

“What happened?” My mom’s voice asks with a sense of urgency then. “Is everything alright?” She wonders, obviously confused as to what’s going on. Her bedroom is downstairs though, so it’s understandable, her confusion and why she’s just getting up here. Beckett’s bedroom and my bedroom share a wall though, so I’m sure he could hear me screaming through the wall fairly well.

“Sawyer had a nightmare, I think,” He states and I feel the opposite side of my bed sink in a little bit, which is how I know my mom is there.

“About Flynn?” She questions in a soft voice, putting her hand on my upper back and rubbing it (her hand) across my back in small circles.

“Probably,” My brother sighs with his arms still wrapped around me. “How long do you think I’d go to prison for parking outside of his house, waiting for him to come out, and running him over?”

“Too long,” My mom simply replies. “And don’t talk like that Beckett,” She scolds, still rubbing my back. 

“I just hate him so much,” He reasons with a grumble. “Do you want me to call Graham?” Beckett offers.

“No, please don’t call Graham,” I plead in a raspy tone, lifting my head up from his shoulder and shaking my head. 

“Why not?” Beckett wonders, raising his eyebrows at me in question. “Did you two get into a fight or something?”

“We didn’t get into a fight,” I sniffle, wiping away my tears. “It’s just that today is his birthday, and I don’t really want to bother him with my problems,” I explain. “Besides, he’s probably asleep.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind coming over, if you needed him to,” My mom interjects. “From what I saw a couple of days ago at dinner, there’s nothing that boy wouldn’t do for you,” She tells me.

“I’m okay now, really,” I tell them with another sniffle, running my fingers through my hair. I know I just said I wish he was here, but that was before it completely registered that today is the 21st.

“I think you probably need to take some of your anxiety medication,” My mother tells me, standing up. “I’m going to downstairs and get it—I’ll be right back,” She says before leaving my room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Beckett asks then, giving me a skeptical look.

“No, not entirely, but I’m sure that I’ll be just fine in a little while,” I state.

“Okay then,” He hesitantly agrees. “If you need anything though, I’ll just be in my room, okay?”

“Yeah,” I nod with a hiccup. “Where’s Aspen?” I query, realizing that my best friend is missing.

“She had like, an early morning dance practice or something, I think,” He tells me. “Also, when you see Cambridge, tell him that I said ‘Happy birthday’, yeah?” Beckett adds, heading to the door.

“I’ll tell him,” I say, and then he’s gone out the door. I’m only alone for about half a second though, before my mom comes back in with the orange bottle that holds my prescription anxiety pills.

“I can call James, if you want me to,” My mom offers, handing me one of the white, oval-shaped pills and a glass of water.

“No, that’s okay,” I tell her, swallowing the pill down with a big gulp of water. “I’ll wait until our session later today,” I say. 

“Okay then,” She replies, taking the glass back from me. “Is there anything I can do for you? I know that I haven’t been the greatest mom lately, and I’m trying to change that,” My mom tells me.

“You’ve always been the greatest mom, mom,” I assure her with a small laugh. “I mean, you’re pretty stubborn and really mean to me a lot of the time, but you’re still a really good mom,” I reply. 

“I’m not sure if that was a compliment, or an insult,” My mom chuckles.

“It was a bit of both,” I tell her, standing up from my bed. “I’m gonna go take a shower and see if that like, calms my nerves a little bit,” I say, making my way over to my closet and pulling it open.

“Alright,” She responds, also standing up. “Well, have a good day at school, and don’t forget to tell James about your panic attack,” She adds, calling Dr. Fontana by his first name for some reason.

“Oh, about that,” I casually bring up as she walks towards my door. “I was actually hoping that you’d let me like, not go to school today.”

“And why exactly would I do that?” My mom queries. Like I said, she is a real stickler for school—she lets me miss like, three days a year.

“I told you that today’s Graham’s birthday,” I say. “I have a super huge surprise for him.”

“Sawyer, you’ve already missed way too much school just in these past couple of days.”

“I’ve only missed a few,” I reason, taking a pair of black leggings, a plain grey t-shirt, and a royal blue sweater out of my closet. “And they’re excused, so really, missing one more day won’t hurt.”

It’s been exactly eight days now since the whole stabbing incident occurred here at my house, and for obvious reasons, I haven’t been to school since then. I mean, I went to school that Monday that it happened, but that was the last day. I have just been so incredibly stressed out about everything lately and school has honestly been the least of my worries. I’ve missed six school days, including today, but Dr. Fontana and I made a deal, so that’s why it’s okay.

He said that for every day that I came into his office for a session and stayed ninety minutes instead of sixty, he would write me a doctor’s note excusing me from school. I didn’t go last week on Wednesday or Friday though, just because I didn’t feel like it, so he didn’t write me notes for those two days. But he did for Tuesday, Thursday, and Monday.

I'm really not sure he's even allowed to do that, but I think that he and my mom came up with that plan together, because they knew I that would be too stressed out and worried about like, potentially going to prison and everything else to be bothered to get up and go to school. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” My mother sighs in agreement. “Well, what’s the surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you, mother,” I say to her, closing my closet.

“Alright then, Sawyer,” She laughs. “Well, whatever it is, I hope you have a good time.”

“It’ll be better than good,” I assure her. “It’ll be super amazing. Well, if he likes it, that is. If he doesn’t though, then it’ll be super awful.”

“Just make sure you’re home by curfew,” She tells me before walking out of my room and leaving the door open behind her, which she knows annoys me to no end.

“I will be,” I chirpily call after her, even though I know that that’s not true. I mean, my curfew is 1 o’clock, but what I have planned for my adorable boyfriend’s birthday is most definitely going to run past that time. That sounds so suggestive, I know, but it’s actually not at all. Anyway though, I’m sure I can convince my mother to let me stay out a few hours past curfew tonight, because it’s kind of a special occasion, I think. She likes Graham a lot too, I think, which will probably help my case.

I go back over to my dresser then, taking out a pair of panties and a bra before leaving my bedroom, and heading to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I take a quick shower before hopping out and getting dressed. Once I’m dressed, I speedily brush my teeth and my hair, and then do my normal make-up.

After I’m done, I make my way back to my room, in a much better mood than before. My nightmare has been all but forgotten—probably because of the anxiety medication, and now I’m just really super excited to go see my amazing boyfriend.

In my room, I pull on a pair of Uggs, grab my car keys and my iPhone and then go downstairs to the kitchen, to the refrigerator, pulling it open. Since today is Graham’s birthday, I decided that I would try to make him a birthday cake, because I kind of felt like that’d be more heartfelt than just going to buy one from the bakery or something. So, that’s what I did, and I’m hoping it turned out okay.

According to Halden (I’ve been speaking to him quite a bit these past few days, trying to get everything together for Graham’s birthday), Graham’s favorite kind of cake is Triple Malt Chocolate Cake, which, let me tell you, is not as easy to make as it sounds.

I really do think that it turned out pretty okay though, and according to Beckett, Aspen, and my mother, it tastes good, but then again, they could have been just been lying for the sake of my pride or whatever.Graham’s an incredibly sweet guy though, so I think even if it tastes like overly sweetened dirt, I’m sure he’ll say that it’s the best cake ever.

I take the cake box thing with the cake inside out of the refrigerator and then open it, peering inside just to make sure it’s still alright. Beckett’s really greedy and Aspen’s like, addicted to all things sweet, so I just have to make sure that the cake is just as I left it last night. When I see that it’s still in perfect condition, I close the box and make my way to the living room and out the front door.

I go over to my car and get inside, putting the cake box in the passenger seat and starting the car up. I pull out of the driveway and then head down my residential road until I reach the main road, which leads me towards Graham’s neighborhood.

We don’t really live all that far away from another one, Graham and I don’t, so it doesn’t take me too long to get there. When I pull up outside of his house, I park on the street because Cassidy, Tucker, and Graham’s cars are all parked in the driveway, and I don’t want to block anyone in.

Glancing down at the clock on the dashboard, I see that it’s only 7:45, so I know that Graham’s most definitely still asleep. Like I said before, Graham is definitely not an early riser, but I don’t know if he’s going to school today or not, so that’s why I wanted to come over early.

Not including today, I’ve missed five days of school, and Graham’s offered to stay with me all of those days, but since he’s a senior, I just don’t think that he needs to miss so much school. Especially not just so that he can hang out with his overly emotional, mentally unstable girlfriend. I let him stay with me for two of the days, but I was adamant about him going the other three days.

Hopefully, Tucker or Cassidy is already awake, because if not, I’m obviously not going to be able to get inside, which will suck. I think that Tucker has a job that he has to go to like, really in early in the morning though, so surely he’s up.

Grabbing the cake box and turning my car off, I get out and head up to the front door. I’m about to ring the doorbell, but just before I do, the door swings open and I see Tucker standing there in a fancy business suit, holding a briefcase.

“Oh, hey Sawyer,” Tucker greets in a chipper tone, stepping outside of the house.

“Hey Tucker,” I reply in the same upbeat tone. “Do you know if Graham is awake?”

“He’s definitely not awake,” He laughs, shaking his head. “That kid hasn’t gotten up this early since like, birth.”

“I’m not surprised,” I admit with a chuckle, running my fingers through my hair. “Do you mind if I go inside?”

“Of course not,” Tucker replies. “Do you two have anything special planned for today?” He questions.

“Well, he doesn’t know it yet, but yeah, I have something really special planned for him,” I tell Tucker.

“Well, that’s great—you two kids have fun with that,” He responds, as if Graham and I are like, decades younger than him, when in fact, we aren’t even half a decade apart. “You know, I’m really glad that you two found each other,” He tells me matter-of-factly. “You two are really good for one another.”

“Yeah,” I quietly laugh, pushing a loose lock of my hair behind my ear. “I’m really glad that we found each other too. He’s kind of like, one of the best things that has ever happened to me,” I truthfully say.

“You two and your young love, it’s adorable, really,” Tucker states. “Anyway, I have to get going before I’m late to work, so I’ll see you later,” He adds then.

“Yeah, see you later, Tucker,” I reply, sending him a small wave before going inside of his house as he makes his way to his car. I close the door behind me and lock it (ever since the thing with Flynn a little bit over a week ago, I’ve been so, so incredibly paranoid about locking doors).

Holding the cake box close to me so that I don’t drop it, I walk up the stairs to Graham’s bedroom. The door is closed, as usual, and usually I’d knock, but since he’s supposedly still sleeping, I decide to just walk on it instead of waking him up by knocking.

I walk inside of his bedroom then and quietly close the door behind me. Then, I tip-toe over to Graham’s bed and place the cake box on the bedside table before sitting down on the edge of his bed. He’s sleeping on his back, which I think is kind of weird, but I’m definitely not complaining about it or anything, because the cover is only up to his waist and he isn’t wearing a shirt.

So, his beautiful abs are just all unobstructed and whatnot and the view is incredibly nice. I’d like to think that I’m not weird though, so I’m not going to just sit here and gawk over him in his shirtless glory while he’s sleeping.

“Boyfriend,” I whisper, using my index finger to lightly poke him in the cheek.

“Hmm?” He sleepily groans, not opening his eyes or even really moving at all.

“Wake up,” I urge in a singsong voice, poking him again in the cheek, which makes him wrinkle his nose in distaste.

“Why?” Graham dramatically whines with his eyes still closed.

“Because it’s your birthday, silly,” I tell him with a quite laugh.

“Oh yeah,” He tiredly responds then, finally opening his eyes and looking up at me. “It is my birthday today, isn’t it?”

“It is,” I chirpily agree with a nod before leaning down and pressing my lips to his for a small kiss. “Happy birthday, by the way,” I add once I pull away.

“Thanks babe,” Graham chuckles, sitting up in his bed and letting out a small yawn.

I blush a little bit when he calls me that, ‘babe’, because I’m pretty positive that that’s the first time he’s ever called me that. He usually just calls me by my name or like ‘sweetie’, which I don’t mind at all because it’s super adorable. I realize then that I don’t have any sort of pet name type thing for him, which is pretty bothersome. Then again though, according to Dr. Fontana, I have something called ‘alexithymia’. Basically, what that means is that I have a really hard time expressing my feelings to people, especially those people that I’m closest with.

That being said, it’s just so difficult for me to let others know how I’m feeling. That’s why I’m so excited for today though, because I know that my major surprise for Graham will prove to him just how much I really do care about and like him. I know that he doesn’t like, doubt my affection or anything, but I just really felt the need to prove it to him, because he proves how much he loves me every day.

“You’re welcome,” I chime, grabbing the cake box from the bedside table and putting it down on my lap. “Okay, so for surprise número uno,” I start to say, glancing down at the box, about to open it. Before I do though, my eyes draw themselves to Graham’s hands, which are on top of the cover, just sitting there. There’s obviously nothing peculiar about that, his hands just sitting there, but what is weird is the fact that his knuckles on his right hand are all red and bruised up. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” I ask, suddenly forgetting about the whole cake thing.

I have candles in my pocket—a 1 and an 8 to make 18, obviously—and I have a lighter, and I was going to put the candles on top of the cake, light them and sing the Happy Birthday song to him in my terribly off-key singing voice, but now that I see that he’s hurt, that all kind of just leaves my mind.

“I’m okay,” Graham assures me with a nod, obviously a bit confused by my sudden topic change. “Why do you ask?”

“Your hand,” I explain, gesturing to it for emphasis. “It wasn’t like that when I saw you yesterday—what happened?”

“Oh, that,” He mumbles, looking down at his hand, flexing his fingers a few times. “Okay, promise me you’re not going to get mad at me?”

“Yeah, sure, I promise,” I agree with a nod of the head, giving him a suspicious look. “What happened yesterday?” I reiterate my question.

“I went to see Flynn at his house,” Graham informs me then. “And it didn’t go that well,” He adds.

“Oh my gosh,” I shriek, giving him a confused look. “Why would you go and see the psychopath?”

“Because I needed to let him know that that bullshit he pulled last Monday—breaking into your house, threatening you, kissing you, and all that stuff—was the last straw. I told him that I was tired of him terrorizing my girlfriend for his own sick, twisted pleasure, and that the next time he tried anything with you, I was going to kick his ass. I just didn’t want him thinking that he was going to get away with hurting you again, because I think that it’s pretty obvious that he has no limit. He makes you sad and scared and he’s the reason for your panic attacks and your anxiety and everything, and that’s just not fair to you, for one person to have that much of a negative impact on your life. So, basically, I just warned him that the next time he got even remotely close to you, things were going to get ugly, for him, that is,” Graham simply explains then.

“As incredibly sweet of you as that is, you can’t go around hitting him, you know,” I inform Graham, grabbing his bruised hand in mind and looking at it.

“I know,” Graham sighs, shaking his head. “I mean, because of the whole thing with my dad, I try really hard to be as non-violent as possible, but he just made me so mad,” He tells me. “He was saying some really terrible stuff about you, like, how you didn’t like, try to fight him off or anything that night, and that you, you know, wanted it. That just made me so mad and he was laughing about it and I kind of just flew off the handle,” Graham admits then.

“He actually said that?” I query, raising my eyebrows in shock. “That I didn’t try to fight it?”

“Yeah,” He nods, sighing again. “I mean, I knew that wasn’t true, but it still pissed me off.”

“Understandably so,” I grumble, kicking my Uggs off and climbing over Graham’s body, sitting beside him. “It’s alright—he’ll be out of our lives soon.”

So, basically, here’s the situation with Flynn—he was released from the hospital three days ago, on the 18th, after spending a total of five days there. After he was released, he was apparently escorted downtown by the police and interrogated that same day. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly what kind of stuff the detectives asked him, but I assume it was all pertaining to the night I stabbed him.

According to Serena and Tyler, after Flynn’s interrogation, he was sent home while the investigation was coming to a close. Then, two days after his interrogation, which was yesterday, the 20th, Flynn had to go to court with his dad (the D.A.) and his lawyer for his arraignment.

In case you don’t know what an arraignment is, it’s when you go to court and the judge tells you what your potential charges are (in Flynn’s case, battery, stalking, and contempt of court) and then you make a plea of either guilty, or not guilty. Of course, Flynn plead not guilty.

I didn’t go to that either, because I didn’t think that seeing Flynn in a courtroom just days after stabbing him in his stomach would be the smartest decision. Serena and Tyler did go though, since they’re my lawyers, and they handle all that kind of stuff.

Anyway, after his arraignment, he was ordered by the judge to be placed under house arrest until his trial, which will take place on February 3. The trial is where they’ll decide if he’s guilty or not, and depending on what is decided, he may or may not be going to jail. So, that’s where Flynn is, confined to his house for the next couple of weeks or so.

Oh, and as for the police’s investigation of me, it’s over. The whole incident has been ruled an act of self-defense and it has been decided that I will serve absolutely no time in prison or anything like that. Call me dramatic, but I seriously wasn’t expecting that kind of outcome.

I was expecting either to be charged with a felony and ordered to spend time in prison, or do like, community service or something. None of that happened though, and according to Tyler, I am completely off the hook.

He (Tyler) told me that in this sort of case, I would have usually been brought in by the police for questioning and if I would have been charged, I would have had to follow the court process, which is basically what Flynn is currently doing.

Since I have “mental health issues” (PTSD, clinical depression, and anxiety) though, as Serena told the detectives, Dr. Fontana, being my mental health care specialist, didn’t clear me for a police interrogation. He said something about how they’d try to take advantage of my “issues” and try to manipulate me into telling them what they wanted to hear, which is that when I stabbed Flynn, I was trying to kill him.

“Yeah, I hope so,” Graham replies, throwing his arm around me and kissing the top of my head. “You think Tyler and Serena will win the case?” He asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” I truthfully respond. “They seem like, childish and annoying, but they really are some of the best lawyers in the state,” I tell Graham. “But let’s not talk about that psychotic sociopath anymore—it’s your birthday, so we have to do birthday stuff,” I state, reaching into my pocket and pulling the candles out, along with the lighter. I think it’s Tom’s lighter, and that thought really repulses me, but it was the only lighter I could find, so I took it. I open the cake box then and set the candles on top of it and then light the little strings thing that stick out on top of them. “Okay, just so you know, I am a terrible singer, but I’m gonna sing anyway, and you better not make fun of me.”

So, he promises that he won’t make fun of me, and I sing the song and he grins goofily the entire time, just to keep himself from laughing, I think. I’m telling you, there’s a lot of stuff I’m good at—watching five years’ worth of a of a television show in one week on Netflix, eating my own body weight in junk food, sleeping all day, painting, etcetera—but singing is most definitely not one of my strong points. You can’t just not sing the Happy Birthday song to someone on their birthday though, that’s just not right.

“What’d you wish for?” I ask him once he blows out his candles.

“It won’t come true if I tell you, you know,” He states matter-of-factly.

“I guess you have a point there,” I agree, taking the candles out of the cake and putting them down in the box.

“I always do,” Graham says with a pointed look. “I can’t believe you bought me a cake—Triple Malt Chocolate is my favorite, did you know that?”

“I did know that—Halden said that it was,” I tell him. “I didn’t buy it though—I made it last night, so fingers crossed it doesn’t taste like garbage.”

“You have some really self-deprecating ways, you know,” Graham informs me.

I open my mouth then to refute Graham’s statement, but before I can get a word out, Graham’s bedroom door flies open and Jackson runs in. He’s dressed in an adorable pair of Spiderman pajamas and he’s wearing a huge grin on his face, carrying some kind of gift wrapped box and a piece of paper in his hands, so I’m assuming they’re presents for his brother, which is pretty sweet of him, I think.

“Hi Sawyer!” Jackson greets with a grin, climbing up in the bed and squeezing in between us. “Happy birthday, Graham!” He exclaims at his big brother.

“Thanks bud,” Graham replies with a chuckle, ruffling his hair. “What you got there?” He asks, gesturing to the paper and box that Jackson came in with.

“A present for you,” He tells him in a ‘duh’ tone. “I made this for you in Art class,” Jackson says to Graham, handing him the paper first. “Do you like it?”

“Of course I like it,” Graham assures his brother with a nod, looking down at the Art project, which says in Jackson’s sloppy little kid penmanship ‘Happy Birthday, G!’, and it also has a birthday cake drawn on it with what looks like eighteen candles. As if that isn’t adorable enough as, there’s a photograph of Graham, Jackson, and Tucker on it. It’s obviously from a few years ago, because Jackson wearing a diaper in the picture, but it’s adorable nonetheless.

“Do you like it, Sawyer?” Jackson randomly asks me, glancing over at me with a curious look on his face.

“I really do,” I truthfully tell him with a nod. “I’m actually kind of jealous that Graham gets such a cool birthday present,” I add.

“I’ll make you one for you birthday too, if you want me to,” He tells me matter-of-factly. “But without the picture, because I don’t have a picture of you.”

“Alrighty then, well, I’ll definitely look forward to it,” I respond with a small giggle, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around then.

“Okay,” Jackson chirps and then looks back over at Graham. “And Cass made you a cupcake, but it was my idea, so it’s from me, not her,” He adds then.

“Well, that was nice of her,” Graham responds, taking the small box from Jackson and looking in it.

“No, it was nice of me,” Jackson corrects his brother. “I just told you that it was my idea, Graham.”

“My bad. That was nice of you,” He corrects himself. “Anyway, Sawyer made me a birthday cake, so there’s a pretty big chance I’ll be diabetic after this.”

“You are incredibly dramatic, Graham Cambridge,” I laugh, playfully rolling my eyes at him then.

“So, there’s cake and a cupcake?” Jackson asks excitedly. “I think we should eat it all right now.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, buddy,” Graham denies, shaking his head.

“Besides, we have to get going pretty soon, because I have a surprise for you,” I chirpily add in.

“Does it have anything to do with what you and Halden have been being all secretive about these past few days?” Graham wonders.

“It has everything to do with why Halden and I have been being all secretive about these past few days,” I assure him then, nodding.

“You have a surprise for Graham?” Jackson queries, glancing up at me and when I nod, he replies with, “Can I come with you guys?”

“Sure, if you want to,” I nod. “I mean, it’s kind of a surprise for you too,” I explain. 

“A surprise for me?” He repeats, his eyes bugging. “It’s not even my birthday yet.”

“Well, yeah, but let’s just call it a late Christmas present,” I suggest, running my fingers through my hair.

“Oooh, that’s a good idea,” Jackson agrees with an eager nod, climbing out of the bed. “I’m gonna go get ready,” He says, running out of the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what my birthday surprise is?” Graham asks me for about the umpteenth time since he found out that Halden and I have been planning something for today. He is incredibly persuasive, but I think that I’ve been doing a pretty good job of keeping him in the dark.

“I’m positive—my lips are absolutely sealed,” I state with a firm nod.

“You’re kinda mean to me sometimes, you know,” He dramatically sighs.

“I’m sorry,” I giggle, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “It’ll all be worth it in just a little bit though.”

“If you say so,” He says, taking my cake box and Jackson’s cupcake box and putting them on the nightstand. “Can we at least make out for a little bit?”

“We can definitely make out for a little bit,” I tell him with a small smile, loosely looping my arms around his neck and then putting my lips against his. 

✿✿✿✿✿✿

“Is it a girlfriend for Bono?” Graham randomly wonders about forty-five minutes later as the three of us (Jackson, Graham, and I) walk together into a little European bistro called Biscotti. Biscotti is basically just like your average Starbucks—the only difference is that it’s more expensive and not as busy.

“Is what a girlfriend for Bono?” I ask with a confused look on my face as we find a table and sit down.

“My birthday surprise,” He clarifies, because I guess he thinks that if he guesses correctly (which I’m pretty sure he won’t) then I’ll tell him that he’s right.

“Oh,” I laugh, crossing my left leg over my right under the table. “Well, no, your birthday surprise isn’t a girlfriend for Bono.”

“We should get him one though,” Jackson interjects. “A girlfriend for Bono—I bet that he gets lonely sometimes,” He adds.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that, Jackson,” I tell him. I don’t really know if Bono ever gets lonely, but I am definitely all for the Cambridge’s adopting a girl dog, because if they do, she’ll eventually mate with Bono, then they’ll have a litter of puppies, and Graham would probably give me one.

“See? Sawyer thinks that we should get Bono a girlfriend too,” Jackson says. “So, I think we should. Can we get one, Graham, pretty please?” He pleads.

“Well, we have to ask Tucker about it first, bud,” Graham replies. “If he says that we can get him one though, then yeah, we’ll go and get one,” He adds.

“Well, I think that he’ll say yes,” Jackson says. “Do you think that the stork will bring Bono and his girlfriend a baby like it does for people?” He queries. “Like, a dog baby, though, not a real baby.”

“I think you mean a puppy,” Graham laughs. “But no, I don’t think that the stork will bring Bono and his girlfriend a puppy. He’s still a little bit too young for that,” He explains to his little brother then and I have to bite down on my bottom lip to keep from awww’ing, because Jackson and Graham are just so freaking cute and their relationship is probably the cutest sibling relationship I’ve ever witnessed in my life.

“Oh,” Jackson slumps, obviously saddened by the news. “Well, he needs to hurry up and grow up, because I want more puppies,” He pouts.

“Just give him a little bit of time, bud; he’ll grow up soon enough,” Graham says to him.

“Yeah, I guess,” He sighs and then curiously looks up at me. “What about you, Sawyer?”

“What about me?” I wonder, raising my eyebrows at him in question.

“Do you want the stork to bring you a baby?” He randomly asks me.

“Umm, I don’t really know,” I truthfully reply. Like I said before, I’m really not a huge fan of babies. I’m not patient enough to deal with all the crying and everything else that comes with a baby. That makes me sound awful, I know, but it’s true. I think that someday in the very, very vast future, I’ll want one.

“I think that you and Graham should call the stork,” Jackson randomly decides and I hear Graham chuckle as my face goes ridiculously red. “Then when you call him, you should ask him to bring you guys a baby. A baby boy though, not a girl, because girls are gross,” He tells me then with a serious look.

“Did you just call my girlfriend gross?” Graham asks Jackson with a small laugh, as I sit across from him at the table, blushing like there’s no tomorrow.

“All girls except for Sawyer and Cassidy,” Jackson corrects himself and then he hopes down out of his chair. “Can I have money to buy a hot chocolate?”

“Sure, bud,” Graham says, pulling his wallet out and giving Jackson a $10 bill from it. “Get something to eat too though,” He adds as Jackson takes off.

“I see the bluntness gene runs in the family,” I awkwardly mumble once Jackson is out of earshot, my face still tinged red from the baby comments.

“Yeah, the bluntness gene definitely runs in the family,” He confirms. “So back to the guessing game? If I’m right, are you going to tell me I’m right?”

I open my mouth to tell him that I won’t tell him, even if he guesses correctly, but I’m interrupted by the constant vibrations of my iPhone on top of the table. I’m sure it’s no one but Beckett, but given the fact that I had a mini panic attack just a bit ago, I guess I should answer, just to tell him that I’m okay. My phone lights up then though and I see that ‘brother’, which is what Beckett’s number is under, doesn’t pop up—it’s Halden’s name that does.

“This is probably about your surprise though,” I inform Graham. “So, feel free to take that as a hint,” I add then.

“It’s a suck-y hint,” He pouts, feigning irritation.

“Well, you’re gonna have to deal with it,” I teasingly say before picking the phone up and answering it. “Hello?”

“Sawyer?” Halden asks, as if he’s not sure that this is me, which is weird since we’ve spoken quite a few times over the phone in these past few days.

“Yeah, it’s me,” I state, absentmindedly twisting a lock of my hair around my finger. “What’s up, Halden?” I ask.

“I was just calling to tell you that the eagle has landed,” He tells me in a whispery tone, as if we’re spies or something.

“Pardon?”

“The eagle has landed,” He reiterates, only this time he puts unnecessary emphasis on the words ‘eagle’ and ‘landed’.

“Why are you speaking in code?” I query, incredibly confused as to what he’s trying to tell me.

“Because, it makes everything feel all top secretive and whatnot,” Halden simply explains then.

“Okay,” I laugh, finally understanding what he means. “So, when you say that ‘the eagle has landed’, do you mean…?” I ask, not finishing my sentence.

“Right, that’s exactly what I mean,” He replies, seeming to understand my unspoken question.

“Okay,” I reply, trying to think of a way to code my question. “What exactly is the, um, status of the eagle?”

“Apparently the eagle flew the coop ten minutes ago, and is now in transit,” He tells me matter-of-factly.

“That’s great news,” I chirp, automatically knowing what he’s saying. “Thank you so much for helping me with this, Halden.”

“No problem,” Halden replies. “I mean, it’s not every day that your best friend turns 18, after all. Speaking of, tell him I said ‘Happy birthday’, will you?”

“Sure thing,” I respond. “I’ll talk to you later,” I add and when he replies, I end the phone call and put my phone back down.

“That was very James Bond of you two,” Graham notes just as Jackson comes back with a hot chocolate and a muffin that’s about the size of his head.

“Wasn’t it though?” I laugh. “By the way, Halden says ‘Happy birthday’.”

“Okay,” He chuckles and then clears his throat. “So, do I get to find out what the eagle is now?”

“The eagle is your surprise,” I chirpily tell him, even though that was already pretty obvious, I think.

“I’m still so confused right now,” Graham admits then with a sigh, picking up and looking at the menu in front of him.

“Good,” I chime as I hear the bell that’s attached to the door of Biscotti sound, which means that someone’s just come in. “Now you know just how I felt on our first date when you refused to tell me anything,” I remind him, recalling how lost and confused I was on that perfect night just a few weeks back.

“Touché,” He relents, reaching over to Jackson’s muffin and taking a piece of it, popping it in his mouth.

“Graham!” Jackson loudly exclaims, glaring at his brother with an annoyed expression on his face.

“Dude, it’s my birthday,” Graham reminds him, laughing.

“Oh yeah, well, I guess it’s okay then,” Jackson responds.

I keep my eyes trained on the person who just entered the bistro and watch as they walk up to the register and ask the cashier for something. Then I avert my eyes back to Graham, who’s looking at me curiously. “You know, you actually might be the most impatient person I’ve ever met,” I tell Graham.

“I know, my fatal flaw,” He replies with a small sigh. “So are we going to get something to eat?” He wonders, picking up the menu in front of him.

“If you’re hungry, sure,” I nod. “Get whatever you want to—I’ll pay,” I assure him.

“You don’t have to pay just because it’s my birthday, you know,” He informs me.

“I know that,” I reply. “But I kinda feel like I’m bankrupting you, because you always pay for everything,” I reason.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Jackson announces before Graham can say anything in respond. “Don’t touch my muffin, Graham,” He warns, trotting off.

“So, can you promise me something really quickly?” I randomly ask him.

“Sure,” Graham agrees. “What is it?”

“Even if you totally hate your surprise, promise you won’t like, hate me?”

“Sawyer, I could never hate you,” He states matter-of-factly, reaching across the table and grabbing my hands in his. “Promise,” He adds.

“Okay then,” I sigh shakily. “Well, then, I guess I should tell you that your surprise is here now, so in a few seconds, you’ll know,” I chirp.

“Here as in Biscotti?” Graham asks me then, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

“Here as in Biscotti,” I confirm with a nod. To be completely honest, I don’t really think that my surprise for him is too hard to guess, and I really did think that he would ‘ve guessed it by now, but from what I can tell, Graham is 100% clueless as to what it is, which is good, but still a little bit surprising.

“Graham?” Georgina softly asks in a polite tone reaching the table and lightly tapping on Graham’s shoulder.

Graham turns around in his chair then and his jaw literally drops and his eyes bug out a little bit when he sees her standing there, which is a pretty reasonable reaction, I think, seeing as how it’s been a couple of years since he last saw her. “Holy sh…” Graham starts to say but stop short before the word actually comes out. “Shortbread. Holy shortbread,” He says, jumping up from his seat. “Mom, what…how…I…” Graham stutters and I think that’s probably the first time I’ve ever seen Graham Cambridge at a loss for words.

“Happy birthday, honey,” She says putting her suitcases down on the titled floor just before Graham tightly wraps his arms around her and they stay like that for a full five minutes or so. While they’re hugging, I just sit there in my seat all awkwardly with a small smile. I have no idea how close Graham and his mother were before she moved to Amsterdam a few years ago, but from how happy they seem to see each other, I’d say they were pretty close.

“H-how are you even here right now?” Graham asks after pulling away from his mom.

“You have a pretty magical girlfriend and best friend, that’s how,” She explains, looking down at me with a friendly smile. “You must be Sawyer?”

“Yep, that’s me,” I nod, standing up to shake her hand but instead of extending her hand to me, she wraps her arms around me, pulling me in for a hug. “It’s so incredibly nice to meet you, Ms. Cambridge,” I truthfully tell her after pulling out of the huge a few seconds later and sitting back down as does she and Graham. Graham and Jackson (who’s still in the bathroom, I guess) are sitting on one side of the table, and I’m sitting on the other by myself, so Ms. Cambridge sits beside me, across from Graham.

“Please, call me Georgina—we don’t have to be all formal,” She tells me with a laugh. I notice then how similar she and Graham look, which doesn’t come as some huge shock or anything, you know, because genetics. For the most part, they have the same facial structure, only they have different noses and cheekbones. Georgina also has really long dirty blonde hair and Graham’s hair is brown, but aside from those three things, they look so alike.

“Graham, you look like you just saw a ghost,” I inform my boyfriend with a giggle, taking in his shocked expression.

“I feel like I did,” He reasons. “How did you even do it? How did this happen? I have so many questions,” He states.

“Didn’t you just hear Georgina say you have a magical girlfriend?” I teasingly reply.

“You really are so amazing, Sawyer Jameson, I hope you know that,” Graham says.

“You two are so cute,” Georgina smiles and I pick up on her slight accent. I mean, she’s been living in the Netherlands for the past few years or so, so I expect she speaks Dutch. Even though she’s speaking English though, you can still clearly hear her Dutch accent. It’s not super heavy, but it’s noticeable.

“I just can’t believe you’re here,” Graham tells his mom. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, honey,” She says. “But you don’t have to worry about that anymore because I’m back and I’m never leaving again,” She promises him.

“You’re staying?” He asks with a huge smile. “Like, for serious?” Graham queries.

“Like, for serious,” Georgina confirms with a light chuckle. “Well, if you and your brothers want me to, that is.”

“Of course we want you to,” Graham assures her with no hesitation. “But how come you didn’t come back earlier?”

“I thought that you and Tucker were mad at me,” She explains. “I didn’t think that you’d want to see me.”

“Ma, that’s crazy,” He replies, shaking his head. “I’ve seriously missed you every day since you left,” He informs her.

“You’re gonna make me start crying,” Georgina tells him with a sniffle.

“I’m just so happy to see you,” He explains. “Seriously, how did you guys even make this happen?” Graham asks me.

“I’ll let you tell him,” I say to Graham’s mom, wanting to let them have as much time to talk and reconnect and whatnot as possible.

“Well, a couple of days ago, I was at work and I got a call from America. I thought that it might be you or Tucker, so I took it and it turned out to be Sawyer,” She starts. “She introduced herself to me as your girlfriend, and she told me that she wanted to plan something big for your eighteenth birthday, and that she couldn’t think of anything bigger than having me come back home. So, then your friend, Halden, who is quite the character, I might add, got on the phone and told me that he and Sawyer had come up with a plan to bring me back to the States and surprise you. Then they sent me a plane ticket—which I need to pay you back for, Sawyer—and I decided then that I didn’t want to just come back for your birthday, and that I wanted to come back for good. I mean, I love your grandparents so, so much, but I missed my babies, so I packed what I could and hopped on a plane, and here I am,” Georgina explains simply.

“I knew I had an amazing girlfriend and a pretty okay best friend, but I had no idea they were planning something so big,” Graham says with a smile.

“Good, because the surprise would’ve been ruined if you weren’t being so oblivious,” I giggle.

“That’s true,” He laughs. “Oh, Jackson’s here,” Graham tells her as if he’d forgotten that fact and is just now remembering.

“Jackson’s here?” Georgina repeats with an excited smile. “Oh man, where is he?” She wonders.

“I’m right here,” Jackson announces, coming back to the table and climbing back into his seat beside Graham, taking a bite out of his gigantic muffin.

“Oh my gosh,” Georgina squeals, putting her hands over her mouth. “You are so adorable!” She exclaims.

“Thank you,” Jackson chirpily replies through a mouthful of muffin.

“Jackson, do you know who this is?” Graham asks his little brother then, even though I really doubt that he does. Graham told me that when Jackson was two years old, he moved to America with him and Tucker, so that was about three years ago. I don’t think that you can remember stuff when you’re that young, but I suppose it might be possible to remember a parent.

“A lady with pretty hair, obviously,” He replies, which makes all three of us laugh.

“Remember how Tucker told you that when you were still a baby, you lived in Amsterdam with our mom?” Graham wonders a few minutes later.

“I remember,” Jackson confirms.

“Well, this is our mom,” He explains. “Do you remember her at all?” He asks him.

“I think so,” He says, blinking a few times, clearly confused by what’s happening. “Can I hug her?” He asks, looking up at Graham.

“Of course you can, buddy,” Graham replies and then Jackson jumps down and gets up in Georgina’s lap putting his arms around her neck.

“I can’t believe how big you are now,” Graham’s mom tells Jackson. “The last time I saw you, you were barely big enough to walk.”

“I grew up,” Jackson informs her matter-of-factly, still sitting in her lap and grinning at her.

“You absolutely did,” She laughs, kissing his forehead. “How about we go get you some ice cream and give Graham and Sawyer a few minutes alone?”

“How did you know I love ice cream?” Jackson wonders as Georgina stands up, holding him in her arms.

“Mother’s intuition, I guess,” She laughs, walking away and carrying Jackson over to the register so that they can get some ice cream.

“Would it be completely inappropriate for me to make out with you right here, right now?” Graham asks, standing up and sitting in the chair beside me.

“Maybe just a tad,” I giggle, holding my fingers up and pinching them together. “But it’s your birthday, so I think that you can be a little inappropriate.”

“You have no idea how much I seriously love you,” Graham mumbles before leaning in to me and pressing his lips against mine.

“I think I do, because I love you too,” I reply, smiling lightly against his lips and loosely wrapping my arms around his neck.

It’s only been about a week since Graham told me that he loves me, and in those seven days, I’ve decided that I do love Graham. I mean, he’s basically the definition of perfect and he’s so sweet and amazing and wonderful and what’s not to love about him?

Dr. Fontana told me that when I’m in love, I’d know it, and that I’ll like, smile a little bigger, and laugh a little louder, and hug a little harder, and see the sun in the sky where I once saw the clouds or something like that, and I’m pretty positive that I do all of that now. So, yeah, I love Graham Cambridge, and I’m 150% sure of that.

Author's Note: I'm going to make this as short as possible because according to some comments on the last chapter, people are "dying" waiting for me to update.

So, first things first, to all of you precious people who sent me 'get well' messages, thanks a whole bunch- I'm 100% stomach flu free now, and I'm also braceless, so that's great.

Secondly, to those of you who feel like I owe you an explanation (which I don't think I do, but eh) last week, I lost Willow (my laptop). And when I say 'lost', I don't mean like, misplaced or anything like that, I mean that I literally don't have it anymore, and that's all I'm going to say about that. So, if I don't have a laptop, I can't write, and if I can't write, I obvs can't post. That being said, updates from now on are going to be pretty sporadic. I mean, I'll come to the public library (which is where I am right now) to write and post, but obvs the schedule thing isn't going to work. Sorry if you don't like that, but I don't have $500 to buy a new laptop, so yeah. I'll TRY to post weekly, but like I said, I don't have a laptop anymore, so I make no promises.

Thirdly, this chapter is dedicated to cristinavv_ because I loved her comment on the last chapter the most. Remember, the next chapter gets dedicated to the person who leaves the comment on this chapter that I love the most.

Fourthly, a lot of you wanted to see Jackson, so notice the picture, which is Pierce Gagnon (Logan, for all my fellow One Tree Hill watchers), who I chose to play Jackson.

Fifthly, thoughts on this chapter and the characters?

Sixthly, notice the song- Be My Forever by Christina Perri and Ed Sheeran because it's super cute and I think it's super perfect and adorable for Graham and Sawyer.