I’m just terrified that when I finally say it out loud, she won’t want me in any of her worlds.
27
HARLOW
The message comes at 6:41 p.m.
Not Grayson or Kai. Not Wren. Not Weston trying to guilt-trip me into “community.”
NumberEleven.
My stomach drops the way it always does—like my body recognizes him before my brain decides whether I’m allowed to want this.
I’m sitting on my bed with my laptop open to a chapter I’ve been pretending to read for twenty minutes. The hall outside my door is loud in that early-evening way—someone laughing like it’s a sport, doors slamming, music bleeding through drywall like the building doesn’t believe in boundaries.
My phone buzzes again.
And I hate that I’ve barely thought about talking to him the last couple of weeks. It makes me feel guilty, even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong.
NumberEleven: hey. can you meet me somewhere? i need to talk to you.
NumberEleven: you can say no.
NumberEleven: and you can leave whenever.
My head spins as I read over his messages again, confusion forcing me to squint at my screen.
We don’t do “meet me somewhere.” We don’t do “in person.” We don’t do anything that gives this safe little space edges you can hit your shoulder on.
My fingers hover over the keyboard.
A thousand questions try to stampede out of me.
Where? Why? Who are you? What’s your name?
And then—like it’s been waiting in the background for weeks—another question rises, slower, heavier.
Do I already know?
I swallow hard and type:
LittleTooMuch: Why? Are you okay?
Three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again.
NumberEleven: i’m okay.
NumberEleven: i just…can’t keep doing this the same way. i don’t want to make you feel trapped. so if you say no, i’m good with that.
My throat tightens because nobody says that unless they mean it. Unless they care about how you feel more than what they want. I stare until my eyes sting. Then I type the only thing my brain can hold without breaking in half.
LittleTooMuch: Where?
Dots. A pause.
NumberEleven: ice rink bleachers? top row at 7:15.
NumberEleven: if you don’t show, i’ll understand.
