He grins at both of them, before he looks at me.His eyes scan my face, lingering a little too long.
And there it is.
The falter.
That brief half-second crack in his smile.The way his brow furrows.
“You okay, kid?”he asks.
“Fine,” I lie.The word barely makes it past my lips.“Just tired.”
He nods, but I know him.He doesn’t buy it, not for one second.
We head inside, take our shoes off at the door, and I hang my key on the hook.Routine.Habit.Something normal to hold on to.
I lead them down the hall, passing framed photos of better days—birthdays, camping trips, one of me and Dad at the track, both of us sunburned and smiling.Dad was right.Boys like that are bastards.
In the kitchen, I grab a couple of cans from the fridge and slide them across the counter to the girls.Aubrey cracks hers open immediately, leaning against the bench.Lola holds hers.
No one speaks as I lead them up the stairs.
When we arrive in my room, we drop our bags near the door.My room is generally clean, with a little clutter here and there.There’s a stack of books by the bed and clothes that are half-folded on the chair in the corner.
Lola kicks her feet up on my bed, cracks open her can, and takes a long sip while half-sprawled across the pillows.Aubrey sinks into the beanbag by the window, sipping her drink as her eyes drift across the room.
I don’t sit.
Instead, I walk over to my closet and take down Reece’s jacket from the hanger.It still faintly smells like him.Then, I go to my bedside drawer.The ring rests inside, cool metal against my fingers as I pick it up, remembering how he used to spin it on his thumb during class.
I turn and walk over to Aubrey, clutching Reece’s things in my hands.She looks up without a word, her eyes soft and steady.I hold them out to her.Two pieces of him I can’t bear to keep anymore.
She takes them and tucks them into her lap.Somehow, it lifts, just a little — enough to breathe again, knowing nothing in this room belongs to him anymore.
“Okay,” Lola says, standing up and dropping her can on my desk with a loud clunk.“Now, after the day you’ve had, I’m putting goop on your face.”
I blink.“What?”
“Facials, bitch.”She’s already heading to the bathroom, her tone all business.“Healing energy.Minimal emotional scarring.”
Aubrey chuckles and shakes her head.
I sigh and stretch out on the bed as Lola comes back with a tube in one hand and a stack of towels in the other, her hair up in a messy bun, sleeves pushed to her elbows as if she’s getting ready for battle.
Fifteen minutes later, we all recline.
With me lying across the pillows, Aubrey curled up on my beanbag, Lola at the foot of the bed—green masks drying on our skin.Spotify is playing something soft and non-depressing.
We don’t discuss Reece, Jace, or anything real.
We just sit and breathe, letting the silence suffice.
And for a little while, it is.
Chapter 25
Reece
Jacecangofuckhimself.
