"You don't have to give her details. Just—be honest about where your head is at."
I ran my hand through my hair. "This is so fucked up."
"Yeah. It is." Noah's voice softened. "But you'll figure it out. Just—take it one step at a time. Talk to Emily. Be honest. And then figure out what you actually want."
We sat in silence for a moment. The dining hall noise continued around us—other people's normal Sunday mornings. Simple problems. Uncomplicated lives.
"What did her text say?" Noah asked finally.
I pulled out my phone. The message I'd read at least fifty times since last night.
Emily
Hey, I've been thinking a lot about everything. Can we talk?
Two sentences. That's all it took to make everything more complicated.
I showed Noah the screen.
He read it and winced. "You gonna respond?"
I stared at the message.
"I should," I said.
"Yeah. You should."
"What do I even say?"
"The truth. That you want to talk. That you need to figure some stuff out."
I typed slowly.
Liam
Hey. Yeah, we should talk. When works for you?
Delivered. Then read almost immediately. Three dots appeared. My heart hammered.
Emily
Tomorrow after your practice? I can meet you on the riverwalk bridge.
Tomorrow. After the first joint practice.
"Fuck," I said.
"What?"
Before I could respond, a tray clattered down next to us.
Tyler dropped into the seat beside Noah, grinning. "What's up, fuckers?"
I shoved my phone in my pocket. Fast. Too fast.
Tyler didn't notice. He was already tearing into his food—burger in one hand, fries disappearing in fistfuls with the other.
"How do you eat a burger for breakfast?" Noah asked, his eyebrows raised in concern.
