We all erupt into laughter.
Even Logan laughs—a real one, brief, surprised.
It’s stupid. It’s ridiculous.
And for a handful of minutes, the dread loosens its grip on my throat.
Then Jade’s phone buzzes.
She reads it and screams.
“HE REPLIED!”
Blakely leans in, calm. “Read it.”
Jade clears her throat theatrically. “Coach says, ‘That’s the spirit. See you at 6 a.m.’”
I groan. “No.”
Logan grins. “Justice.”
Jade points at him. “I hope your knee swells.”
“Nice,” Logan says dryly. “Very supportive.”
Jade sticks her tongue out.
The bottle spins again, but this time Blakely stops it with her hand.
She looks at me, eyes steady.
“Sloane,” she says quietly. “Truth.”
My stomach tightens again.
I glare. “No.”
Blakely’s voice stays calm. “I won’t ask anything rude!”
I swallow hard. “Fine.”
Blakely holds my gaze. “What do you want?”
The question hits like a punch because it’s so simple, yet so unfair.
Because I haven’t let myself want things lately. Wanting feels like tempting fate to land another blow.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
Jade goes quiet.
Even the music feels muffled.
Logan doesn’t speak. He just watches me with such intensity that I feel like he’ll take whatever I say and try his best to fix it.
My throat burns.
“I want…” My voice cracks.
