I already know exactly who she's looking for.
My jaw tightens. My eyebrow twitches.
Here we fucking go.
When Sam meets my eyes, she does that tiny wide-eyed twitch — like she's been caught red-handed, because she absolutely has.
"Zach!" she says — too bright, too high-pitched. "You're still here! I, uh... thought you were already meeting Care right now."
Mhm.
Sure you did.
Last week I told her — straight up — she wasn't allowed to come to the dorm unless I was here.
No more hovering around Elijah.
No more putting herself in situations that end with her crying.
No more attending parties here.
No more "dropping off" morning shakes or breakfast like he owns a disability and can't get his own food.
No more giving Elijah pieces of her heart he keeps stomping on.
And she argued, obviously.
"I'm not a kid."
"Elijah didn't mean what he said."
"He didn't deserve to get punched."
"You should apologize."
Yeah.
Like hell.
When she ignored me the first time, I warned her I'd change the dorm entry code and blacklist her from the Pond. Amazing how fast she listened after that. Probably because if she can't walk in here, she can't lurk around Elijah... and she knows it.
I fold my arms. "Uh-huh. And that's why you came over? Because youthoughtI wasn't here?"
"What? N—No."
The worst lie I've ever heard.
"Right," I deadpan.
"It's true, Zachy—"
"Oh hey, little devil!" Liam calls from the floor, putting up a hand for a high-five.
Sam slaps it dramatically. Luke gives her a chin lift as she plops down next to me — still sneaking glances around the room like Elijah might materialize out of thin air.
"You act like I only come here for one thing," she huffs.
"Because you do," all three of us say in perfect unison.
