Not because she’s ignoring him.
Because she’s ignoring me.
Again.
Still.
Always.
She walks by like I’m invisible. Like we didn’t have a whole universe between us once. Like I didn’t carve her initials into places she hasn’t even found yet. Like my videos didn’t break the ice around her heart. Like I wasn’t just at her house helping out.What the fuck do I have to do—to get this girl back?
Every part of me wants to drag her somewhere private and demand she stop pretending she doesn’t feel this too.
But I hold still.
Because she asked for space.
But space is fucking killing me.
The same people who shrugged when she got slimed on school property are now asking her to speak on panels.
Thedeancalls her up during assembly.
“Miss Bryan, would you say a few words about resilience?”
Jade steps up to the mic, half-lidded eyes, hair in a messy braid, vibe of a girl who was forged in hellfire and came out diamond-hard.
“Sure,” she says into the mic.
“Resilience is what happens when the people who’re supposed to protect you don’t.”
A punch to the throat.
To the admin.
To everyone who failed her.
Silence so loud it rings.
Then applause.
Thunder.
She walks offstage without looking at anyone.
Without looking at me.
And part of me is proud.
Part of me is gutted.
Most of me is terrified she’s slipping further and further out of my reach.
Winter Ball chatter infects campus like a bad flu.
“Delacourt Mansion,” Mia tells me at lunch, flipping through her phone. “Black tie. Crystal chandeliers. Champagne fountains. Ice sculptures. And Kannon’s totally asking Jade.”
My fork snaps through my salad plate.
