“You’re not,” she says.“You know that.”
“Do I?Because it doesn’t feel that way.I’m still there, Aubrey.Still lying in that pile, right on top, with his fingerprints all over me.”
She doesn’t look away.“But you’re the one who walked away, Sam.Not him.”
I stay still.I don’t have an answer for that because she’s right.I ran first.I told him to stay the hell away.
Aubrey takes a slow breath.“The good ones don’t stop trying to fix their mistakes.”Her voice trembles.“Noah says he’s never seen him like this before.Not ever.He’s hurting, Sam.He barely speaks.Reece is messed up over it, and it’s not for show.He’s gutted.”
“Perhaps.”My voice cracks again as I press a hand to my chest, trying to hold back the pain and keep it from spilling out.“But sometimes, trying isn’t enough.Not when he’s already shattered the part of me that trusted him.”
I slam my locker shut harder than I intend to.The metal clangs loudly through the hallway, but I don’t stop.I can’t.Not with my throat burning and my chest tight.I leave Aubrey behind, even though my stomach twists with guilt for brushing her off.She was only trying to help.But I can’t keep talking about him.Not when the wounds are still raw and bleeding beneath my skin.
I turn the corner and come to a full stop.
There he is.
Reece.
Leaning against the lockers further down the hall, that lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.Maya stands in front of him, hair curled perfectly, makeup sharp, posture radiating wit and that flirty vibe.She’s tucking her hair behind her ear as if she’s the star of some cheesy teen soap opera.
And for a moment, my heart stumbles.
He looks fine.Every bit the cocky, unfazed asshole who tore me apart.
I hear Aubrey’s voice in my mind: He’s hurting, Sam.He’s not the same.
Yeah… Doesn’t look like it.
Maya reaches out to him, her hand brushing his arm.
Then, it happens.
Reece recoils.
His hand snaps up, knocking her hand away.“Don’t fucking touch me.”
A few people turn to look.
Maya blinks, stunned.“What the hell’s your problem?”
“You are,” he says.
Maya huffs before storming down the hallway, heels clicking loudly, yelling something about him being an asshole, but I don’t catch the rest.I’ve never seen him like this before.He has never pushed anyone away.He’s always been the flirt, the tease, the smooth talker who knows exactly what he’s doing.
But not today.
I stay there watching him walk away, his hands shoved in his pockets, his head down, with no prowling in his step.No swagger.Just a boy who looks heavy and worn down.
Aubrey slides up next to me.
“See?”
I don’t answer.
“I told you Noah said he’s not the same,” she says, nudging my arm.
I watch him walk further down the hallway, shoulders hunched.That cocky energy has disappeared.Hands tucked deep into his pockets.Eyes fixed on the floor.
