Careful.
Nothing like his usual tone.
It almost undoes me again.
I grip the strap of my backpack tighter against my shoulder and keep my chin high because the alternative is dropping to the wet stone and never getting back up.
“No.”
His brow furrows.
“Isa.”
“I said no.”
The boot throws off my balance when I pivot, and I hate that too, hate the ugly awkward drag of it, hate that even my body is betraying my pride tonight.
Rain lashes sideways under the arch and catches the side of my face. Cold. Sharp. Mean.
Kane steps forward once.
Not touching.
Not crowding.
“You shouldn’t be out there alone in that.”
I laugh.
It comes out wrong.
Broken around the edges.
“Trust me,” I say. “Alone is kind of the theme tonight.”
His mouth tightens.
“Isa, let me just?—”
“No.”
I don’t raise my voice.
I don’t need to.
All the steel in me is already doing its best just to keep me standing.
Because I can’t go back to the dorm yet.
I can’t.
I can’t face my teammates.
Can’t limp into my room in the boot and let them look at me with big soft eyes and awful gentle voices.
Can’t let anyone ask if I’m okay when my whole body is one split-open answer.
I didn’t just lose the guy.
