Like something from another girl’s life.
Now it’s just me.
I open my school bag.
My laptop.
My notebooks.
My phone.
I stare at it for a long time before picking it up.
It feels heavier than it should. Like holding it might break me all over again.
I sit on the edge of the bed and finally power it on.
It vibrates nonstop—buzz, buzz, buzz—like an angry hive coming back to life.
Texts from Shani.
Texts from unknown numbers.
Texts from Coach Roman.
Emails from teachers.
A handful of “Are you okay?” messages from people who never cared before.
And Leo.
So many from Leo.
My throat tightens.
I start pacing the room, hugging my arms around myself. I’m not ready. Fuck, I’m not ready—but I can’t avoid this forever.
It’s only been a few days, but everything feels like a lifetime ago.
The screen flashes:Voicemail box full.
Of course it is.
I sink onto the bed, pull my knees up, and press play.
The first one is Leo.
“Gitanilla… I love you.”
My whole body goes cold.
Tears gather instantly, spilling down my cheeks before I can blink them away. My hand shakes so hard I almost drop the phone.
I hit “save.”
I don’t even know why.
The next few messages come in rapid-fire—apologies, confusion, desperation, fragments of his voice cutting in and out like he can’t breathe, like he’s running while leaving them.
