“You okay?”
I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, the truth sitting easier than I’d expected. “Way better than I thought I’d be.”
She smiled—small, knowing—and bumped her shoulder against mine. “Good. Let’s survive first period.”
We headed inside together. The day was still waiting. For the first time in a while, I felt like I could meet it.
The rest of the day went… better than I expected.
Not perfect. Not magically fixed. But manageable in a way that surprised me.
The guys were all just—themselves. Jake cracked jokes under his breath during our study period in the library like nothing in the world was on fire. Bubba offered me half his granola bar when I slid into math class without making a thing of it. Coop stayed close but didn’t hover, like he was guarding the perimeter instead of my feelings.
Archie was more intense than usual.
That part I’d expected.
He watched the halls like he was mapping threats, his attention snapping to me every time a voice rose or a phone came out. But he kept it contained. No public confrontations. No controlling gestures. Just quiet vigilance.
At lunch, I bailed.
I didn’t even try to pretend I was hungry. The cafeteria was loud and echoing and full of eyes, and I felt the pressure building the longer I stood there.
Mathieu had mentioned he was eating with the teachers that day—some exchange student thing—so I used it as my excuse. Clean. Easy.
I slipped out. The guys let me too. I would’ve invited Rachel, but she never showed up to lunch and didn’t answer my text until after I’d already made it back to school.
Sorry—had to deal with something. I’m fine, she texted later, waving it off like she always did.
I didn’t push. Not today.
When I went to grab my books before last period, there was another note in my locker.
Different handwriting.
Neater.
What color roses do you want for Homecoming?
I stared at it longer than necessary.
Roses.
Homecoming.
The dance was closing in faster than I’d realized. And right on its heels?—
Coop’s birthday.
That thought cut through everything else like a lifeline.
Instead of spiraling about who I was supposed to go with, or what I was supposed to feel, or how many moving pieces I couldn’t control—I latched onto the one thing that felt solid.
Coop.
He deserved something good. Something normal. Somethinghappy.
I pulled my phone out and opened the group chat with the guys—sans Coop.
