The certainty in that makes my chest ache.
I shake my head like I can shake the emotion loose. “I have to go.”
Logan nods. “I’ll be here.”
Simple.
No promises.
No big speeches.
Just presence.
I turn toward the door, then stop because something in me can’t leave without…something.
I look back at him. “Don’t—” My voice catches. “Don’t let Pops try to do things alone.”
Logan’s gaze steadies. “I won’t.”
I hesitate one more second, then leave.
Outside, the air is mild, sunlight warm on my face, like the universe is mocking me. I slide into my car and grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles go white.
I sit there for one breath. Two.
Then I start the engine.
The drive to campus is a blur. Traffic lights. Palm trees. A billboard advertising something stupid and bright. My phone buzzes with texts I can’t answer.
Jade: u coming??
Blakely: coach is already in a mood lmao if you don’t show up for what you caused, that’s rude.
Jade: also if u ditch i’m dragging u myself.
I type back with stiff fingers.
on my way.
I don’t add the part where Pops just came home in a wheelchair and my living room now looks like a medical supply catalog.
Because if I say it, it becomes louder.
And I need quiet. I need control. I need to walk into practice and pretend my body still knows how to be a normal twenty-one-year-old.
—
The gym smells like varnished wood and sweat and the faint citrus cleaner they use on the floor. The sound of basketballs bouncing hits my ears like an old comfort and an old grief at the same time.
Jade and Blakely are by the lockers, already dressed—hair up, warmups on, eyes sharp.
Jade’s gaze snaps to my face the second I walk in.
That’s the thing about real friends: they don’t need details to know when the world is breaking.
Blakely steps closer, voice low. “He’s home?”
I nod once.
