It feels like half the team's here, not the full crew, but enough that their presence is hard to ignore. I roll over, staring up at the ceiling, debating whether I should just stay in my room or get up. My throat feels dry, and the thought of sneaking downstairs for water seems like a good enough excuse to get away from my swirling thoughts, even for a moment.
I throw off the covers, grabbing a hoodie to throw over my tank top before quietly slipping out of my room. The hallway is dimly lit, the house settling into its evening rhythm. As I pad down the stairs, I can hear their voices more clearly - boisterous laughter, someone cursing at a bad play, the usual banter I've overheard a million times before.
When I hit the bottom step, I slow my pace, not wanting to draw attention to myself. I creep toward the kitchen, slipping inside without anyone noticing. As I open the fridge and grab a water bottle, I lean against the counter, just listening to the conversation.
They're talking about girls. Nothing out of the ordinary. It's a conversation I've overheard plenty of times - who's dating who, who's hot, who's single. I roll my eyes and try not to listen toohard. It's just the usual locker-room talk, and none of its ever really fazed me before.
I unscrew the cap of the water bottle, taking a sip, about to head back upstairs when I hear something that makes me freeze.
"So, Asher," one of the guys calls out. "Who've you been spending all your time with lately, man? We hardly see you outside of games or practice."
I pause, one foot on the first step, my heart skipping a beat. I don't know why, but I suddenly need to hear what he says. Asher's been spending a lot of time with me, but no one else knows that. We've been careful - at least, I thought we had and the only one that knows that is Justin. Had he told someone?
There's a short silence before someone else chimes in, "What, you still hanging around Harlowe? Didn't you guys break up like forever ago?"
I grip the railing tighter, my stomach twisting at the mention of Harlowe, Asher's ex. I haven't thought about her since that day at campus when she cornered me, but hearing her name now makes something ugly and sharp twist inside me.
I wait, my breath shallow, as Asher finally speaks up.
"Nah," he says, his voice casual. "We broke up a while ago."
Relief washes over me, but it's short-lived because then someone else pipes up, "You thinking of getting back with her? You guys were good together, man. She was cool, easy to deal with."
The ugly twist in my stomach tightens. I swallow, hoping - praying, Asher will brush it off, say something, anything thatmakes it clear he's not interested in Harlowe anymore. That she's not even on his radar.
But instead, I hear him laugh, low and easy, the kind of laugh he uses with me. "Yeah, maybe someday. It was easy, you know? No drama, no complications. We had a good thing."
He sounds the same. Like the answer was already waiting on his tongue.
I feel like I'm breaking inside my own head and the sudden realisation has me pulling back, looking down at my phone.
I’ve broken the one rule he set. When did that happen?
Maybe that's the difference between us.
He knows how to separate things.
I don't.
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I can feel my throat tightening, my chest aching as I stand frozen on the stairs. I don't hear the rest of the conversation, too stunned by what he just said. My hand tightens around the bottle of water, my fingers numb.
Easy.
No drama.
No complications.
And then it hits me -that's not us.What Asher and I haveiscomplicated. It's secret, messy, full of tension and lies. Nothing about us is easy. Nothing about us is simple.
And he just said maybe.
I blink back the sting in my eyes, turning quickly on my heel and heading back up the stairs before anyone can see me. I barely make it to my room before the tears start to blur my vision. I shut the door behind me.
He just told them what he prefers.
Something easy.
Something inside me goes very still – like a door quietly closing.
