“You okay?”Micah asks it so casually it almost doesn’t register.
We’re in the dining hall, grabbing post-practice smoothies as though nothing happened last night after the game. Like I didn’t walk off the field and straight into a heartbreak hangover from hell.
I stir my straw slowly, watching the swirl of mango and something green I probably shouldn’t have added, as though it’s going to tell me the answer.
“I saw him,” I say finally. “At the game.”
Micah doesn’t pretend to be confused. He just lets out a soft breath and leans his elbow on the table. “Silas?”
I nod once.
“He looked the same,” I add. “Maybe a little more tired. Or maybe I just imagined that part.”
“You talk to him?”
I shake my head. “He was walking down the bleachers as I was coming out of the tunnel. We both stopped. Looked ateach other. And then…” I huff a laugh, but it doesn’t sound like one. “Then I walked away.”
Micah studies me for a second. “That must’ve sucked.”
“It did,” I admit. “But not like before. Not like the first few weeks when I couldn’t breathe without wondering why I wasn’t enough. But it also…sorta didn’t hurt at all.”
Micah’s quiet again. He’s not a big advice guy, which I’ve always appreciated about him. He just listens.
I tap my fingers on the side of the cup. “Because the only reason he would’ve come to that game—sat through the whole damn thing and took his time leaving—was if he still cared.”
Micah nods slowly, like he gets it.
“He still loves me,” I whisper. “That’s what it felt like. But that doesn’t change anything.”
I’m not sure if I say the last part for him or for myself. Because l want it to change everything, but I’m not stupid, and the rose-colored glasses I was wearing before are gone.
“No,” Micah says gently. “But it’s something.”
I shrug, eyes still on my smoothie. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”
Micah reaches over and nudges my arm with his fingers “You’re not.”
I smile. “I know. I have you guys. I just meant… I don’t want to keep waiting. Holding my breath for something that might never happen. That maybe shouldn’t happen.”
There’s no judgment in Micah’s expression. No pity either. Which is exactly what I need.
“You deserve to be happy.”
Silas said the same thing in that last message, basically. And yeah, I do. So why not start trying now.
I pull out my phone and open Prism. Scroll a little. Tap on a profile.
Micah glances over, brows lifting. “You thinking about hooking up with someone?”
“Just a date,” I say, too fast. “Not a hookup or a one night stand, but not anything serious. Just… someone who’s safe. Someone who doesn’t make my chest feel like it’s going to cave in.”
He nods slowly. “Are you sure this isn’t about tryingnotto feel something?”
I pause. Fingers hovering over the screen.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe. Probably.”
He leans back, arms crossed. “I get it. You’re allowed to want real things. Just…this could be a rebound.”
