Thomas~3

Pandora sniffled, wiping her sleeve across her nose as she curled up tighter on the couch. Her usual spark was completely gone, replaced with puffy eyes and a hollow expression. Tess sat beside her, cross-legged, while Emily perched on the armrest, absently fiddling with the strings on her hoodie. Katie stood behind them, arms crossed, her expression somewhere between anger and frustration.

"I just don't understand why he'd do it," Pandora murmured, her voice fragile. "I loved him, you know? Like, really, really loved him."

Emily let out a soft sigh, rubbing her arm. "Oh, Panda..."

"He's a fucking idiot," Katie snapped, shaking her head. "If he thinks he can just do that to you and expect you to be fine, he's delusional."

Pandora let out a shaky breath. "But I thought he loved me too. He said he did... and then he just..." She trailed off, voice cracking as she stared down at her hands.

Tess hesitated, then said, "I don't think he stopped loving you." It came out quieter than she intended, and she felt the weight of everyone's attention shift toward her. She shifted uncomfortably. "I think he just... messed up."

Pandora frowned. "Then why doesn't it feel like a mistake? He wanted to do it."

Tess didn't have an answer to that. None of them did.

"It's not your fault, Panda," Emily said gently.

"Yeah," Katie agreed. "And if he had any brain cells left, he'd be on his knees begging you to take him back."

Pandora let out a weak laugh, though it quickly faded into another sigh. "I just feel... I dunno. Empty."

Tess knew that feeling. That slow, dragging nothingness, where everything around you carried on, but you just couldn't seem to care.

She nudged Pandora's foot lightly. "You'll be alright. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but you will be."

Pandora looked at her for a long moment before nodding. She didn't look convinced, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. That was something.

The moment was shattered when the door opened, and Thomas walked in.

Pandora tensed immediately, her whole body stiffening as she looked away, eyes darting down to her lap. Tess felt Katie shift beside her, her usual sharp expression sharpening even more. Emily just exhaled through her nose, clearly uncomfortable.

Thomas hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he should even be here, then walked further into the room. He glanced at Pandora, just for a second, but she refused to look at him. Tess watched the whole thing in silence, jaw tight.

The bell rang, breaking the awkwardness. Pandora stood up abruptly, brushing down her skirt. "I'm fine," she muttered before anyone could ask, forcing a small smile that fooled absolutely no one. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

None of them stopped her as she walked off.

Tess lingered for a moment, then looked at the twins. Emily looked a bit deflated, and Katie just shook her head in irritation. "Dickhead," she muttered under her breath before slinging her bag over her shoulder.

Tess didn't disagree.

----

Psychology class dragged on.

Tess sat at her desk, staring blankly at the front of the room as the teacher spoke, but none of it was sticking. Words blurred together, sentences lost on her as her mind wandered.

The door opened, and Cook walked in, late and looking pissed off.

She turned her eyes back to the front, but she wasn't listening. She was thinking about him. About them. About whatever the hell they were anymore.

Cook dropped onto a seat at her table with a heavy thud, his knee knocking against the leg of the table. She barely had time to process him being there before he started fidgeting—tapping his fingers against the desk, shifting in his chair, running a hand through his already-messy hair. Something was off.

Tess glanced at him, brow furrowing. "What's with you?"

"Nothing," he muttered, barely looking at her. He was jittery, like he couldn't sit still, his knee bouncing under the table.

"Sure," she said dryly, watching as he cracked his knuckles one by one. "You're always this twitchy, yeah?"

He exhaled through his nose, smirking slightly. "Just thrilled to be here with you. Highlight of my fuckin' day."

She rolled her eyes but didn't push—at least not yet. He was acting weird, but if Cook didn't want to talk about something, getting it out of him was like pulling teeth.

"You stormed out of the gym the other day," before the interviews" she said, voice low enough that only he could hear. "Right after we talked about her."

Cook barely reacted, just huffed through his nose. "So?"

"So," she said, tilting her head. "Bit of a coincidence, isn't it?"

His jaw tightened for a split second before he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head like he didn't have a care in the world. "What are you tryna say?"

Tess narrowed her eyes. "Nothing. Just, you're acting weird."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Everything's normal. You're the one making it weird, alright?"

She hummed, unconvinced, then nodded at his hand. "Not accusing you of anything, just... noticed, that's all.."

Cook immediately stopped, tensing like he hadn't realised he was doing it. He let out a sharp exhale, rubbing his palm against his jeans. "Why you being so chatty today?"

"I'm not," she said simply. "Just curious, that's all."

For a beat, he didn't say anything, just stared at her. Then, he smirked.

"Y'know, I've figured it out," he said, tilting his head.

Tess raised a brow. "Oh yeah?"

Cook leaned in just slightly, a glint in his eye. "You like sittin' next to me, don't you?"

She scoffed. "You sat next to me, Cook."

"Yeah, yeah, technicalities." He flicked his pen between his fingers, his smirk deepening. "But you're not complainin', are ya?"

Tess gave him a flat look. "I'll start if you don't shut up."

Before he could fire back, the teacher's voice cut through the room.

"You two, quiet in the back there."

Cook let out a small, lazy laugh, not bothering to look up. Tess felt something tighten in her chest at the sound of it—just for a second. It was stupid, but it reminded her of how easy things used to be between them, even if it was just for a little bit.

The teacher didn't bother pressing them further, moving on with the lesson.

"Now, when we talk about defence mechanisms, we mean the subconscious ways people protect themselves emotionally. Take displacement, for example—when someone redirects their emotions, anger, fear, whatever, onto something or someone else, usually because the real issue is too difficult to face."

Tess felt Cook shift beside her, the tapping of his fingers stopping abruptly.

"Then there's avoidance," the teacher continued, clicking to the next slide. "A classic. When someone goes out of their way to ignore something, to pretend it's not a problem, even when it clearly is."

Tess swallowed.

"And, of course, self-sabotage," the teacher added, almost offhand. "When someone pushes away the things that might actually make them happy because, deep down, they don't believe they deserve them. Or maybe they're just scared of losing it anyway, all this can be a result of trauma...."

Cook shifted again. Tess kept her eyes trained forward.

Neither of them said anything.

The teacher carried on, but the words hung heavy between them.

Now it just felt like something unspoken was pressing against both of them, waiting to break.

----

Tess walked down the street, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, the chill of the late afternoon air biting at her fingertips. She wasn't in a rush to get anywhere—didn't exactly want to go home, so she walked.

Every now and then, she glanced into shop windows, not really looking at anything, just letting her eyes skim over mannequins dressed in overpriced clothes, shelves stacked with books she wouldn't read. Her mind wasn't on any of it. It was on him.

Cook.

The way he was acting. The way he wasn't acting. How he had been fidgety and tense earlier, snapping at her and then joking around. How much she missed him, even though she wouldn't admit it. How she didn't even know what she missed—him or just the way things used to be.

She was about to pass another shop when something caught her eye.

Through the dusty window of a pub, sitting alone in a booth, was Thomas.

For a second, Tess hesitated. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers through the glass. She exhaled, then pushed open the door, the warm air inside hitting her as she stepped in.

Thomas straightened slightly as she walked over. "What are you doing here?"

"Free period," she said, sliding into the seat across from him. "What are you doing out?"

He looked down at the glass in his hands, spinning it slightly. "I got expelled."

Tess blinked. "What?"

"By the new professor."

Her stomach twisted. "Blood? Un-fucking-believable. Why?"

Thomas let out a dry, humourless chuckle. "Because of Sophia. I was involved."

"That's bullshit. It wasn't your fault." Tess argued, though she didn't know who with.

He shook his head. "Something about reputation."

Tess scoffed. "That's fucked. He can't do that—"

"He did."

She leaned back, arms crossed, irritation bubbling under her skin. "He's been on some kind of power trip since he got there. Calling us all rubbish, changing everything up, it's ridiculous!"

Thomas nodded, looking down at his drink. His expression was distant, like his mind was somewhere else. Tess didn't say anything for a moment, just let the silence settle between them.

Eventually, she sighed. "So what now? What are you gonna do?"

He shrugged, but there was tension in his shoulders. "I'm not sure." He exhaled. "I've ruined things for myself haven't I?"

Tess pressed her lips together. "Not everything is your fault Thomas."

"Yeah." He shook his head, running a hand over his face. "I fucked up. But she did too."

She could understand that. Could understand him.

Because no matter how much Thomas regretted what he did, he wasn't the only one who made mistakes.

And wasn't that just how it went?

Tess sighed, "Well I'm sure it'll all-"

Tess was mid-sentence when she noticed Thomas suddenly tense up. His gaze had shifted across the pub, his expression darkening.

She followed his line of sight and spotted them—Naomi and Cook, sitting in a booth near the far side of the bar. They were talking in hushed voices, Naomi looking grief-stricken, her face twisted with something raw and unsettled. Cook, for once, didn't have his usual cocky grin. His jaw was tight, shoulders hunched forward, like he was trying to convince her of something, but whatever he was saying wasn't doing much to calm her nerves.

Tess frowned. What the fuck were they up to?

Before she could say anything, Naomi's eyes flickered toward them. She nudged Cook, and he turned, a slow grin spreading across his face when he spotted them.

"Oi, look who it is!" Cook called out, leaning back in his seat. "Tess and Tommo." He smirked, raising his glass. "How the fuck are you still diddling, me old jammy cheating todger?"

Thomas shot up from his seat.

Tess barely had time to react before he was already crossing the room.

"What did you just say?" Thomas's voice was low, sharp.

Cook snorted. "Everyone knows, mate."

Naomi shook her head, looking annoyed. "You're such a tit, Thomas. She loved you."

Cook clicked his tongue. "Yup. You pissed on old Panda Pops, didn't ya?"

Tess rolled her eyes. "Like you can talk, Cook."

Cook glanced at her, something flickering behind his eyes before he grinned again, throwing his head back in laughter.

Naomi turned to Tess now, her expression incredulous. "Why are you even hanging out with him after what he did?"

Tess exhaled, crossing her arms. "Dunno, Naomi, maybe 'cause none of us are fucking saints."

Cook, ignoring them, turned back to Thomas, his smirk widening. "So, who's the lucky lady then, huh? Who's had the pleasure of getting Congo cocked—"

Thomas punched him.

It was fast, brutal. The impact sent Cook stumbling back into the table, knocking over a glass.

"That's for selling drugs in my club, you bastard!" Thomas growled, shoving him again. "And now a girl is dead."

Cook barely had time to recover before Thomas swung again, landing another punch to his jaw.

"Thomas, please!" Tess shouted, grabbing at his arm.

"Thomas, stop!" Naomi yelled, but he wasn't listening.

"She's dead!" Thomas roared, his fists still slamming into Cook. "You fucking cunt! You fucking killed her!"

The bartender rushed over, a burly man grabbing Thomas by the arms, trying to pull him away. Another guy stepped in to hold Cook back, though Cook wasn't fighting—he was just wiping blood from his mouth.

"Hey! Break it up, you two! Stop it!" The bartender barked.

"Fuck, Thomas, stop!" Tess yelled, panic rising in her chest.

Naomi's voice was strained, almost desperate. "Thomas—Thomas, it was me! I gave it to her"

Everything stilled.

Thomas froze. "What?"

Tess blinked, heart pounding. "You what?"

Naomi swallowed hard, her face pale, hands trembling. "Cook—Cook dealt me the powder. That's it. I needed some money, so I—I just sold it to some random. I didn't know—I didn't—"

Thomas just stood there, his chest heaving. "She died." His voice was hollow. "She's dead."

Naomi's eyes welled up. "I didn't mean for that to—" She let out a shaky breath. "Please don't tell anyone. Don't tell Emily. She'll be..." Her voice cracked.

Then she turned and walked out.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Tess just flopped down into a nearby chair, her mind spinning, trying to process what the fuck had just happened.

Thomas shot Cook one last, venomous look before he turned and left too.

---

Tess sat still, staring at the table, her mind running in circles. Everything that had just happened—Thomas, Naomi, Sophia—it was all sinking in like dead weight in her stomach. Across from her, Cook sat with a bag of ice pressed to his jaw, his lip split, a bruise already blooming under his cheekbone.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The pub was quieter now, the bartender still glaring in their direction, but no one had kicked them out yet. Probably out of morbid curiosity.

Tess finally looked up at him. His usual smirk was nowhere to be seen, replaced by something tired, something almost defeated.

Another pause.

He leaned forward slightly, wincing as he adjusted the ice. "Y'know, I keep thinking... if I'd just—" He stopped, shaking his head. "Nah, doesn't even fucking matter now."

Tess frowned. "What?"

Cook let out a hollow laugh, eyes flicking up to meet hers. "Just... if I'd stop, maybe none of this would've happened. Maybe she'd still be—" He trailed off.

Tess sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "That's not on you."

He scoffed. "Yeah, tell that to Fuckin' Tommo. He's fucking right, isn't he? Girl's dead, and I—" He cut himself off again, exhaling sharply. "Doesn't matter."

Tess watched him, the way he was trying so hard not to let it get to him. Not fully, anyway. But she knew Cook. She knew when he was faking it.

"You're not responsible for what happened," she said, softer this time.

Cook let out a humourless chuckle. "Nah, Tess. But I was part of it. Can't just act like I weren't."

She didn't know what to say to that, so she stayed quiet.

Another beat of silence.

Cook exhaled sharply, shifting the ice pack. "Everything's so fucked up." His voice was rough, distant. "It's fucked up, Tess. We're fucked up."

Tess sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Feels like that's all it ever is with us."

Cook tapped his fingers against the table, his knee bouncing slightly. "Yeah"

They sat there a little longer, the weight of everything still hanging between them. But for once, neither of them got up to run away.