Bennett: I’m sorry
I stare at both messages for a long time, my palms sweaty and my heart pounding.
Then I click into the airline app and find the next flight to Florida.
CHAPTER 38
BENNETT
Ifollow Dr. Sparks’s advice, going over to the house and hanging with Callum. We order Chinese take-out and talk about Weston and Harbor, Coach Keller, Morrison — everyone but Tori.
Then we hop onCall of Duty.
Usually, I’m a sharp shooter. Not tonight.
I’m distracted, imagining the buzz of my phone in my pocket every two minutes. I slide it out, check the blank screen one more time.
“She ghost you?” Callum doesn’t break his gaze from the game, and I’m grateful for that as the tips of my ears burn.
“Maybe. I texted her, but she hasn’t texted back.” The admission’s rough and raw, tearing from my throat.
“What did you say?” Callum makes another kill, covering my ass.
“Sorry. Then asked her to call me.”
There’s a long pause, the only sounds comingfrom the video game.
“Give her time. I’m sure she heard you.”
I pocket my phone and pick up my controller.
We play until 10 PM, but eventually, I have to go home.
Callum offers me the sofa, but I decline. I’m way too tall to sleep on that thing. Besides, we have a game two days from now. I can’t be tight and sore from sofa surfing.
Taking a deep breath, I shove the key in the lock and push inside my empty condo.
It’s dark, quiet, and slightly messy, just like I left it. I turn on the kitchen light, rifle through the mail. Nothing interesting.
Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I click on the TV. I plop down on the sofa and kick up my feet. I flip through the channels rapid-fire, but nothing catches my interest. Hitting the power button on the remote, the screen goes dark.
I sit and stare at nothing for a long time, the moon rising higher in the inky sky.
I should go to bed.
But I know I’ll just lay there, unable to sleep. I haven’t slept in two days. Not really.
Because all I can think about is Tori.
The look on her face at the game, right before she walked out. Hollow eyes, her lips a tight, red line.
Disappointed.
I let her down.
She never responded to my texts.
Not the apology. Not the one about talking.
