SATELLITE HEART [A BARLEY LIGHTFOOT x READER STORY]

chapter 6

It was better for Barley to stay away.

That's what he reminded himself as he watched you get in your car to drive yourself to work day after day and when he heard you and your dad fighting from outside of the house. That's what he whispered to himself as he left your books he borrowed in your mailbox for you to grab. And that's what he kept repeating over and over and over again in his mind as he watched you open the mailbox, pull the books out, and immediately look over at him with a heartbroken expression.

Heartbroken. That was an understatement.

You looked absolutely devastated that he was listening to your dad. You looked at him when he was outside, which wasn't often, and you paused in your driveway if he was pulling up. But every single time he saw you, he looked away and kept his head down, until eventually, you stopped looking for him. You stopped sitting on your porch swing. He didn't see you hold another book in your hands. And he noticed every single thing, but he kept it to himself, as painful as it was.

It was better for Barley to stay away; that's what he kept telling himself. Maybe one day he'd believe it.

No, he wouldn't. But maybe you would, if he convinced you.

He didn't want to convince you, but the chance to came around anyway. He cringed when he heard you approaching Guinevere. Your shadow fell over him and he shut his eyes tightly. He wouldn't look at you, because that would just make it harder.

"Barley," you said.

"You shouldn't be over here," he said.

"Why?" Your voice was strained. "Because my dad told you to stay away? Barley, I don't care about what he said."

"No, because I said you shouldn't be," he said. "I don't --- I don't want you here, got it? You saw the trouble we got in. It isn't worth it. For either of us." Every word, of course, a lie that struck his heart so deeply that he almost burst into tears, especially when he heard your sharp intake of breath and the scrape of the bottom of your shoes against the pavement.

"You know, you really don't know anything about me, Barley," you said. "Because you don't know a single thing that's good for me." He winced again. You were gone before he could take the words back.

He couldn't take them back. There was no way you could forgive him now. He'd used your own insecurities against you. He'd broken your trust by saying he didn't want you.

And now things were worse instead of better, even though Barley had gotten what he wanted. Because there was something that struck him when he saw how empty your eyes were now when you weren't looking for him. And that you weren't looking for him anymore. That should be a relief for him. Maybe in a few more days, you would move on and forget about whatever small thing you had for him before. Except it wasn't a small thing really, and he wasn't going to move on from you. But still, he had to pretend that he had, because Ian looked at him weird now and his headaches were getting worse and if he could fix you from a distance, then he would be at least a little happy. He kept telling himself that.

Until one day after work he saw you sitting in your car, crying against the steering wheel. It was five p.m; you would've been off work for an hour now. How long had you been crying like that? And now through the shaded window of your car, he saw your shoulders shaking violently, the skin on your knuckles tightened as you gripped onto the wheel, your face hidden from view. Completely. Broken.

He was walking into your yard before he could even think about how bad of an idea this really was. He was knocking on your window, well aware of the fact that your parents cars were both in the driveway right now. You jumped and looked out the window, face splotchy and wet. You rolled the window down and sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "B-Barley? Is everything okay?"

His lips twitched into a smile, but he was breaking inside. "You're the one that's crying in the car and you're asking if I'm okay?"

"I guess," you said, swallowing hard. You stopped looking at him. "Then what do you want?"

"Are you okay?" he asked. What a ridiculous question. 

"No," you replied coldly. You reached over in the passenger seat and grabbed your bag. "I'm not. Thanks for stopping by to check on me, but yeah, I'm not fine. I should go inside."

Barley backed away from the car door as you opened it and pushed it open with a bump of your hip. You got out of the car, wiping your messy nose again and blinking tears from your eyes. He gulped. "Wait --- ___, wait a second."

"I shouldn't," you said, voice hard and shaky. "We both know it's better---"

It's better if he stayed away. No, he couldn't believe that anymore. He never did. "I was wrong---"

"Yeah, you were wrong," you said, walking around the front of your car. You turned and looked at him. "You were so wrong, Barley, but you said it all already. You said it. It's over. You don't want me. I'm not worth it. What else is there to say? I get it."

"___," he said softly. "You don't get it---"

"You know, I thought I was the jerk for not wanting to be caught with you," you said. "It kept me awake at night knowing that I was upsetting you for it. And then when I got caught and chewed out, I thought that yeah, it was bad like I thought it would be but I would get through it because there was no way you would leave me. And then you said..." Your voice broke and your face was just pained. "You said the one thing I would never say to you."

"Please," he said. "I know I've been a huge jerk."

"Yeah, you have been a jerk," you said.

He continued, "You stood up for me that night and that made everything worse for you. I thought maybe leaving you alone would fix your relationship with your parents but... I was a big ol' dumb idiot 'cause you're not doing well at all and --- and it's all my fault. If I didn't know you at all, you wouldn't be in trouble for being associated with me."

"Well you are a big 'ol dumb idiot," you muttered, leaning against your car and crossing your arms over your chest. You didn't look at him as you spoke. "'Cause I don't care if my relationship gets fixed with my parents or not. I never did... but I wanted to be associated with you." You finally looked at him and his shoulders dropped as you said, "I still do. I want to be with you more than I want my parents to forgive me. Barley, I-I care about you and I just thought---" You closed your lips tightly before continuing with, "And I thought you cared about me too."

"No, but you're wrong!" he said, panicked. "I care about you too! So much."

You looked at him cautiously. Your eyes narrowed and your body froze, tensing in preparation for him to turn you down and away. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do," he whispered. "I didn't kiss you for any other reason. You're my best friend and... and I like you a lot."

You smiled, only slightly. "It's hard to tell, 'cause you ignored me so easily."

"It wasn't easy," he said, shaking his head, "but I am sorry for what I did. I thought listening to your dad might help your home life get better 'cause it's obvious I ruined it..."

You rolled your eyes. "I don't care what my parents think about you or me or us because all I know is that you're the sweetest guy I ever met and that if --- if you care about me like you say you do, then I-I just want to be with you. And I don't care about what Colt thinks---"

"Me either!" he exclaimed. "I want to be with you."

"You mean it?" you asked.

"Yes," he breathed, his hands moving to your arms. "How can I prove it to you?"

You shook your head slowly as a smile inched across your face. A real one that wasn't to mask pain or prepare yourself for heartache. "You don't have to prove it to me, Barley."

"I will," he said, "I will every day. You have my word. I'm sorry." And he meant it, because right there he leaned down and kissed you, his hands moving to cup your face. He knew that your parents were watching from the windows, he knew that Colt would find out about this and be as unforgiving and cold as ever to him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was this --- all that mattered was you.