Page 122 of Puck Me Back to Life

“Please, stop.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Technically, we both slept.”

“That is not what I was asking, and you know it.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Her grin slowly fades when she realizes I am not only embarrassed but avoiding something. Angela has always been annoyingly good at that, at sensing when the joke has reached the edge of something sharper.

She rests her forearms on the balcony railing. “What happened yesterday?”

The question is gentle enough that it almost makes me lie. Almost.

I look down into my coffee. The surface ripples slightly in the morning breeze.

“Noah Grove was traded to the Wizards.”

Angela goes very still. For a moment the city beneath us seems louder than it was before. Cars pass. A delivery truck beeps as it reverses somewhere down the block. The ordinary morning continues without caring that my world shifted yesterday.

Angela's joking expression disappears completely. “Oh, Kai.”

I hate the softness in her voice. Kindness has become one of the hardest things in the world to survive.

“He's William's brother,” I say, even though she already knows.

Her hand reaches across the small gap between our railings. After a second, I let her take mine. Her fingers are warm from the coffee mug. “Are you okay?”

The question hits harder than it should. Something ugly and exhausted twists inside me. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Angela doesn't let go. “Because we care.”

“You should be asking if he's okay.”

Her eyebrows pull together. “Noah?”

“Yes.” The frustration rises before I can stop it. “His brother died. His family is the one that lost someone. He has to walk into a locker room with me in it, and everyone keeps looking at me like I'm the one who needs protecting.”

Angela's grip tightens. “Kai.”

“No, seriously.” My voice stays quiet, but the anger underneath it feels old and familiar. “People did this during the investigation too. They kept asking how I was doing, like I was the tragedy. William died. His parents lost their son. Noah lost his brother. I'm still here.”

The last sentence comes out worse than I intended.

Too honest.

Too sharp.

Angela's face shifts.

I look away immediately.

“Kai,” she says softly, “you don't have to disappear just because someone else is grieving too.”

My throat tightens. I hate how easily she gets to the point.

“You shouldn't be left behind,” she adds.