Page 5 of Unholy Confessions (The Paper Rings Trilogy #1)

I pull my thumb nail in between my teeth, as I sit outside the library, waiting for RJ. He texted me last night, and asked me to meet him so we could talk. I haven't seen him in a week, or talked to him other than a text here and there.

All I know is that his parents took him to the doctor, and they've been trying to figure out what's going on with him. My friend, Hilary, told me she saw him last night at Hattie B's, and that he looked good.

It sucked when I heard she'd seen him, and I hadn't. Jealousy had coursed through my body, but then he texted me, asking to see me alone. This gazebo in front of the local library is where we tend to meet when we have serious discussions.

My stomach is rolling with nervousness as I see his truck pull into the library parking lot. Should I go meet him? Should I stay here? I don't know, but what I do know is he looks good. There's a relaxed set to his shoulders, and a smile across his face, one I haven't seen in months.

He waves at me from across the parking lot, and I wave back, my heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always does when I see him.

RJ has this way of making everything else fade into the background, like the world shrinks down to just him and me.

I watch as he walks toward the gazebo, his stride confident in a way that's different from before.

There's something lighter about him, something that makes my chest tighten with hope.

"Hey, Montgomery," he says as he climbs the steps of the gazebo, his voice carrying that familiar warmth that makes my name sound like the lyrics of a song.

"Hey yourself," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady despite the butterflies performing acrobatics in my stomach. "You look..." I pause, searching for the right words. "You look like you again."

His smile widens, and he settles down beside me on the wooden bench, close enough that I can smell the scent that's uniquely his. "That's because I finally feel like me again. Or maybe like the me I'm supposed to be."

I turn to face him fully, tucking one leg under me. "What do you mean?"

RJ runs a hand through his dark hair, a gesture I've seen him make a thousand times when he's trying to organize his thoughts. "I got a diagnosis, Gum. What they think's been wrong with me all this time."

My heart skips, equal parts excited, and scared. "What did they say?"

"Depression and ADHD." He says it matter-of-factly, but I can see the relief in his eyes. "All this time, I thought I was just broken or lazy or couldn't get my shit together. But it turns out my brain just works differently."

I reach out instinctively, covering his hand with mine. His skin is warm, and I feel him relax under my touch. "That explains so much," I whisper.

"Right?" His eyes light up in a way I haven't seen in months.

"Like why I could never focus in school, why I'd start projects and never finish them, why some days I felt like I was drowning in my own thoughts.

And the depression..." He trails off, his gaze drifting toward the library's brick facade.

"I didn't even realize how bad it had gotten until I started feeling better. "

"They gave you medication?"

He nods, pulling his hand free to reach into his pocket. He shows me a small orange prescription bottle. "Adderall. For the ADHD. And an antidepressant. I've been on them for about a week now, and Montgomery, it's like someone turned the lights on in my brain."

I study his face, noting the clarity in his green eyes, the way his shoulders aren't hunched with the weight of whatever invisible burden he'd been carrying. "You do seem different. More present."

"I am." He grins, and it's the first genuine smile I've seen from him in months. "I can actually finish thoughts now. I can sit through a conversation without my mind wandering to seventeen different places. I can play guitar for hours without getting frustrated and giving up."

The mention of guitar makes my pulse quicken. RJ's been playing since he was twelve, and he's incredibly talented, but lately, he'd been so hard on himself about everything. "That's amazing, RJ. I'm so happy for you."

"But you're worried," he says, reading my expression with the ease of someone who's known me for years.

I bite my lip, considering how to voice my concerns without sounding like I'm not supportive. "I just... I want you to be careful, okay? I know these medications can help, but I also know they can be addictive. Especially Adderall."

His expression sobers slightly, and he nods. "I know. The doctor went over all of that with me and my parents. We're monitoring it closely, and I'm seeing a therapist too. I'm not taking any chances, Montgomery. I want to get better the right way."

Relief washes over me, and I squeeze his hand again. "Good. Because I can't lose you, RJ. I need you here and healthy and being yourself."

Something shifts in his expression, something deeper and more intense than friendship. For a moment, the air between us feels charged, like right before a thunderstorm. But then he clears his throat and looks away, and the moment passes.

"There's something else," he says, his voice tinged with excitement. "Something I wanted to tell you in person."

"What?"

"EJ called me yesterday. He wants me to join his band."

My eyes widen, and an excited scream erupts from my throat. "Grey Skies? Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." RJ's grin is infectious now. "They need a lead guitarist, and EJ thinks I'm good enough. He said if I can prove myself, if I can handle the commitment and the pressure, then I can stay permanently."

"RJ, that's incredible!" I throw my arms around him without thinking, pulling him into a hug.

He stiffens for just a second before his arms come around me, holding me tight.

I breathe in his scent, feel the solid warmth of his chest against mine, and for a moment, I let myself imagine that this is more than friendship.

When I pull back, our faces are inches apart, and I can see gold flecks in his green eyes. "I'm so proud of you," I whisper.

"I haven't done anything yet," he says, but his voice is rough around the edges.

"You got help. You're taking care of yourself. That's huge, RJ."

He stares at me for a long moment, and I swear I can see something like longing in his expression. But then he leans back, putting distance between us again. "For the first time in forever, I'm excited about the future, Montgomery. I actually think I can accomplish the things I want to accomplish."

"Like what?"

"Like making music that matters. Like..." He pauses, his gaze flickering to my lips before he looks away. "Like a lot of things."

I feel heat rise in my cheeks. "What kind of plans does EJ have for Grey Skies?"

"They're working on an EP right now, and if I join, I'd be part of that process. EJ said they might even let me contribute some of my own songs."

"You've been writing songs?" This is news to me.

"Yeah, especially this past week. It's like the medication cleared all the fog out of my head, and suddenly I can organize my thoughts into lyrics. I've written three songs already."

"Will you play one for me sometime?"

He grins, throwing me a wink. "Maybe."

I laugh, the sound echoing off the gazebo's wooden roof. "When do you start with the band?"

"Next week. EJ wants me to come to a few practice sessions first, see how I mesh with the other guys. If it goes well, they'll officially bring me on."

"And if it doesn't go well?"

His smile falters slightly. "Then I'll figure something else out. But Montgomery, I have a good feeling about this. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can actually succeed at something."

The vulnerability in his voice makes my chest tight. "You can succeed at anything you put your mind to, RJ. You always could. Sometimes our brains just need a little help getting there."

"Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Montgomery?" he teases, but there's affection in his voice.

"That's my best friend opinion," I reply, and I see him wince slightly at the word 'friend.' It gives me a little thrill of hope. Neither one of us have mentioned the kiss, at least not yet.

"Best friend," he repeats quietly. "Yeah, that's what we are."

But the way he says it makes it sound like a question rather than a statement. Like he's testing the words to see if they fit.

The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the library grounds.

Soon, I'll have to go home for dinner, and he'll have to go back to his house, and this perfect moment will be over.

But for now, we're just sitting here in our gazebo, talking about the future like it's something bright and full of possibility.

"What about you?" RJ asks suddenly. "What do you want to do with your life?"

The question catches me off guard. I've been so focused on worrying about him that I haven't given much thought to my own future. "I don't know. College, I guess. Maybe study journalism or English. I like writing."

"You're good at it too. Remember that story you wrote for English class last year? About the girl who could hear people's thoughts?"

I'm surprised he remembers that. "You actually read it?"

"Of course I read it. I read everything you write." He pauses. "You could be a writer, Montgomery. A real one."

"Maybe." I duck my head, feeling shy under his praise. "I'd like to travel too. I've been on tour with my dad during the summers, but I'd like to see more."

"We could do that together someday," he says, and then seems to realize what he's said. "I mean, if you wanted to. If we're still... if we still know each other."

"Of course we'll still know each other," I say firmly. "You're not getting rid of me that easily, Rhett James Thompson."

He laughs, and the sound is pure joy. "Good. Because I'm going to need my best friend cheering me on when I'm playing sold-out arenas."

"Sold-out arenas, huh? Someone's confident."

"Someone's medicated," he corrects with a grin. "Big difference."

I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. "Just promise me you won't forget about me when you're famous."

His expression grows serious. "I could never forget about you, Montgomery. You're..." He stops, shaking his head. "You're the most important person in my life."

My heart pounds so hard I'm sure he can hear it. "You're pretty important to me too."

We sit in comfortable silence for a while, watching as the library's lights begin to flicker on in the gathering dusk. Other than the distant sound of traffic, it's peaceful here, like we're the only two people in the world.

"I should probably head home," I finally say, though I don't want to leave.

"Yeah, me too. But Montgomery?" He catches my hand as I start to stand. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me. For doing the hard shit, by telling others about it. For being here when I needed you. For..." He struggles for words. "For being you."

I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "I'll always be here for you, RJ. No matter what."

He stands too, and for a moment, we're standing close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hand is still holding mine, and I can feel his thumb tracing small circles on my skin.

"I know," he says softly. "And that means everything to me."

Then he leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead, gentle and sweet and full of promise. It's not the kind of kiss I've been dreaming about, but it's enough for now. It's a beginning.

As we walk back toward the parking lot, I can't help but feel like everything is about to change. RJ is getting better, finding his path, becoming the person he's meant to be. And maybe, just maybe, that path will lead him back to me in all the ways I've been hoping for.

For now, though, I'm content to walk beside him in the fading light, listening to him talk about his dreams and plans, feeling like the future is bright and full of possibility for both of us.