Now it was Friday.
Nearly a week sincethat moment.
Since her world had tilted and her chest had been split open in a way she didn’t know how to stitch back together. She’d missed the game. Her friends reached out. They always did. Words were what people gave you when they didn’t know what else to offer.
But Tate?
He had been nothing but silent. That silence was heavier than any word he could have spoken. Her eyes burned as she stared at the familiar outline of her front porch. She thought about getting out, thought about forcing herself to move, but then something shifted in the corner of her vision.
A shadow. A movement.
She screamed.
“Hey, girl!” Shannon’s voice rang out, bright and amused. “Is this the new ride?”
Nettie’s heart slammed against her ribs as she whipped her head toward her friend. “You scared me…”
“I get that sometimes,” Shannon said with a chuckle, already tugging the handle and sliding into the passenger seat like she owned the car. Her perfume—something light and citrusy—filled the space. “So, if this is what you get for cooking dinner, what happens if you actually lock lips with Gina’s hot bro-monster…?”
Nettie’s shoulders sagged, her chest deflating with a long sigh as she got out of the car.
Shannon only laughed at the reaction, her arm snaking around Nettie’s shoulders as if to gather her broken pieces together. She tugged her toward the house, steering her like she was a little lost.
“You’ve talked with Gina?” Nettie muttered, already knowing the answer.
“Yup - and guess who was there when Tate came over to get advice from his parents?” Shannon volunteered cheerfully, then pressed a finger dramatically to her lips. “You didn’t hear that from me.”
Nettie stumbled to a stop on the walkway, her breath catching. “He asked his parents for help—about me?”
“Well, about mending a relationship with a friend that was damaged,” Shannon corrected with a sly grin, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. “But we both know you are the friend.”
“I’m not…” Nettie’s voice cracked, the denial weak and unconvincing.
“Puh-lease.”
“I’m not,” she whispered again, softer this time, as if saying it quietly enough might make it true. Her mind spun at the thought that maybe Tate was hurting too, maybe he wasn’t as immune as he acted. “He was fine with breaking my heart once. How do you get past that?”
“Who says that he did?” Shannon asked, getting out of the car and looking at her over the roof of the sleek black sedan.
Her head jerked up. “What do you mean?”
“He was leaving for college, you were off-limits. How do you know he actually ever got over things? Maybe that’s the reason he bites off everyone’s head.”
“He’s always been like that.”
“How long have you been around?” Shannon asked pointedly. She plucked the keys from Nettie’s limp fingers, sliding them into the lock like she’d done it a hundred times. The door creaked open with an ease Nettie herself didn’t feel. “If your answer is ‘always,’ then maybe you need to take a second look at how people cope with things.”
Nettie frowned. “What are you doing here?”
“Checking on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“No,” Shannon shot back immediately. “You are using those coping skills too—except you don’t bite, growl, and hiss at people like your boyfriend does.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Sure, honey… sure.” Shannon shook her head, amused, while Nettie slipped past her into the house and flicked on a lamp. Light spilled across the living room, chasing shadows into corners.
