My skin felt too tight under my pads and I didn’t even have pads on yet. “Roman.”
“I don’t know everything.”
I laughed once, quiet and ugly. “That’s comforting.”
“I know enough.”
“How?”
He set the stick aside. “Because I have eyes. Because you’ve been different for months. Because Coach Reid says your name like he’s trying not to say something else. Because you almost slipped yesterday and looked like someone had put a gun on the table. Because Tessa has been acting like a fire marshal in a fireworks factory. Pick one.”
My stomach turned.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“I’m not taking a poll.”
“Roman.”
“I don’t think so. Not like this.”
I bent forward, elbows on my knees, and pressed my fingers into my hair. Too much input. Too many sounds. Tape ripping. Shower turning on. Laughing. The buzz of the lights. My own pulse in my neck. My brain started throwing images at me so fast I couldn’t sort them. Declan’s kitchen. Olivia’s note on the fridge.Vanessa’s face when I ended it. Declan’s hand on my jaw. Roman watching. Tessa knowing. The whole thing spreading like spilled oil.
Roman’s voice cut through, lower.
“Breathe before you puke in your skate.”
“I’m not going to puke.”
“You look undecided.”
I sat up and forced air into my lungs.
In. Hold. Out.
I hated that it worked.
Roman waited. He didn’t touch me. He knew better unless I asked. That made my throat hurt a little, which annoyed me, so I grabbed my base layer and started putting it on with more aggression than clothing deserved.
“It’s not some stupid hookup,” I said, so low the words barely made it past my teeth.
“I figured.”
“You don’t get to say that like you figured out my Netflix password.”
“I’m not.”
I yanked the sleeve into place. “He told her last night. Or he was supposed to. I don’t know what happened because I didn’t text him, because apparently I’m capable of personal growth when tortured.”
Roman looked at me for a long second. “You didn’t text him?”
“No.”
“Good.”
