I ignore him. Key in the lock, eyes forward.
"...hey, please talk to me."
His voice is closer now, too close.
I freeze, turn—and there he is. No teasing grin. No smug chuckle. Just Zach, standing in front of me, all earnest eyes and furrowed brows.
My chest squeezes. I force a smile anyway. "About what, Zach?"
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing like he's choking on the words. "About... uh..." His gaze drops to the cement,studying it like it holds the answers, before tilting up again. "About what Cici said earlier. I just want you to know that—"
I laugh. Sharp. Hollow. The kind of laugh that tastes bitter on the way out. I wave a hand like I'm swatting away a fly.He'sthe fly.
"Don't worry about it, Zach. I get it, really. She's hot and—" I gag a little, but push through, “I'm sure it was hard to resist someone like her."
His eyes widen. "But—"
"Really, it's fine." I cut him off again, too fast, too fake. "No biggie."
No biggie?!my brain screams.
My inner sass-monster wants to slap me.
Yeah, it'sno big dealthat you hooked up with the meanest girl alive, who lives to ruin me. And it'stotally finethat you lied straight to my face about it. Sure. No biggie.
My jaw aches from holding the smile plastered across my face. My lips feel like they're stapled in place, my throat glued shut. The words I actually want to say get stuck somewhere deep, where they can't escape.
Zach studies me, eyes narrowing slightly like he can see every crack in my armor. He opens his stupid, beautiful mouth—probably to defend himself, probably to spin another denial.
"It's getting late," I cut in quickly, juggling my keys like a nervous tic. "I should head in. And you should too. Sam might still be awake, you should go check on her."
I step back, gesture toward the door with my thumb. Wave my hand like this is nothing, like the ache in my chest is nothing.
And before he can say a word, I shove the key into the lock, twist, and slip inside.
The door slams. Lock clicks. And the second it's closed, my back hits it, my head follows, and I let out the heaviest sigh of my life.
My hand presses hard against my chest, like I can hold all the broken pieces together. Tonight was supposed to be good—great, even. I was all giddy at the rink, floating when he scored that hat trick and pointed at me like I was the only person who mattered.
It wasn't just a hat trick. It was ahearttrick.
And I fell for it. Again.
Now I'm here, slumped against the door, replaying Cici's smug little face and wanting to scream into a pillow.
God, why is she so despicable? Why does she always win?
I crack one eye open, glance out the window. Zach's still outside for a second, just standing there. Then finally, he turns, shoulders slumped and walks across the yard to his house next door.
The porch light glows faintly on his back before he disappears inside.
I peel myself off the door and glance around the house. Quiet. Dim. Mom probably left the kitchen light on again—it always hums softly until morning. Otherwise, the place is asleep.
I climb the stairs, dragging my feet like lead, until I make it to my room. My safe place. My battlefield. My Taylor Swift shrine of doom.
And tonight? Oh, we're going full blast.
I don't even bother with the lights. The second my bedroom door shuts, I fling myself onto my bed like I'm auditioning for a crime scene outline. Arms and legs stretched wide across the mattress, staring at the ceiling like it personally betrayed me.
