People move around me in clusters.Girls huddle together, whispering behind cupped hands.Guys slap shoulders, shove each other, and laugh too loud.Someone bumps into me and mutters an apology without looking up.I don’t respond.
My focus is off.
It has been all morning.
My mind keeps drifting, sliding back to shit I don’t want to think about.Things I can’t unfeel.
Get a grip, asshole.It’s just another day.
Still, my chest feels tight.
I take a slow breath through my nose and exhale just as slowly.It doesn’t help.
My eyes keep moving regardless.
Scanning more by instinct than deliberate choice.My brain catalogs everything whether I want it to or not.I see Jace near the lockers by the stairwell, laughing at something on his phone.His grin is easy and carefree, which pisses me off a little, though I don’t know why.Maybe because he looks so comfortable in his own skin.
I walk toward him.
Halfway there, a sound pierces through everything else.
A laugh.
It hits low in my chest and detonates.
My stride falters, even if just for a brief moment.
It’s enough to catch my attention and really annoy me.
That laugh comes softer this time, but it still happens.
I turn my head and see her there.
Sam’s leaning against the lockers, hair loose, mouth curved into a relaxed smile.It’s a genuine smile.She’s laughing at something a guy says, and it hits me quickly, sharp as a blade under my ribs.
I know who he is.
Bryce fucking Andrews.Everyone knows who he is.One of those clean-cut boys who never sneaks out, never drinks, and never gets caught doing anything worth remembering.The type teachers smile at.The type parents point to and say, “Why can’t you be more like him?”
The type Sam smiles at as if he’s something safe.
My jaw locks up.
She tilts her head, smiling wider, eyes shining.Her hand lightly brushes his arm.It seems casual, probably nothing, but I still feel a twinge in my chest until even breathing becomes hard.
I force myself to move before I storm over there and rearrange his fucking teeth for smiling at her.
Every step toward Jace feels like running a marathon.
My temper radiates so loudly it drowns out reason.I keep my head down, eyes forward, pretending I’m not aware of every second Sam’s laughter follows me down the hall.
When I get to Jace, he looks up.
“Hey man.”
I don’t respond.I just lean back against the lockers, my shoulders hitting them hard on purpose.The impact sends a dull jolt up my spine, giving me something solid to focus on instead of my constricted chest, which makes it hard to breathe normally.
Jace watches me for a beat.I can feel his eyes on my face, waiting for something.A reaction.A joke, anything that lets him pretend this is just another moment, another hallway conversation that means jackshit.
