LOGINThe bus is already half full by the time I climb aboard.Students crowd the seats in noisy clusters, backpacks spilling into aisles and music leaking from someone’s speaker despite the teachers repeatedly telling them to turn it off.The atmosphere should feel exciting. It’s our senior trip, one of the last big things we’ll do together before graduation.Instead, all I can hear are whispers.“…can’t believe Texas picked Jake…”“…thought Tyler had it locked down…”“…did you see the post?”“…he played like shit; I’m not surprised…”I tighten my grip on my backpack strap, my gaze searching the bus.Eventually, I find Tyler near the middle. And somehow, despite everything, he’s smiling. The sight eases some of the tension in my chest.His face lights up when he sees me. “There she is, my favorite passenger.”I roll my eyes automatically. “And how many passengers have you met today?”“Only one that matters.”Heat creeps into my che
Tyler’s POVI never thought gardening would become part of my weekly routine. Yet here I am, kneeling and covered in dirt while holding a trowel.“You’re doing it wrong,” Mom says, standing over me with her hands on her hips.“You’ve said that six times.”“Because you’ve done it wrong six times.”“I play football, Mom. I’m not supposed to know how flowers work.”Mom rolls her eyes. “The flowers don’t know that.”I snort.Somewhere behind us, the twins are chasing each other around the backyard despite Mom’s earlier attempts to convince them not to use garden hoses as weapons. The whole scene is ridiculously normal, which is nice, especially after the last few weeks.Mom crouches beside me and starts rearranging the flowers I’d apparently planted incorrectly. “You know,” she says, brushing dirt from her hands, “your future wife will appreciate this.”I groan. “Mom.”“What? You have a girlfriend now.”Heat creeps into my face, which
I’ve been staring at my phone for an hour because it won’t stop lighting up.The notifications from Tyler’s constant calls and texts blur together until they feel like one huge background noise that I can’t switch off. I turn my phone face down on my bed, ignoring the vibration of the incoming call.I know I’m being unfair. Tyler didn’t do anything wrong; he played his game and talked to someone he used to know. That’s all it was, but my brain refuses to accept how simple that is.Every time I close my eyes, I see them talking again and laughing so easily. And I think they make far more sense than he and I do togetherI sit up abruptly and press my palms into my face. “Get a grip, Lila” I whisper to myself.My phone immediately lights up again after the vibration stops, but I still can’t bring myself to answer. Because if I answer, I’ll hear his voice and I’ll probably forget why I’m even upset in the first place. And then I’ll feel guilty for being upset at
The game against Westbrook sounds like a war cry.Or maybe it only feels loud because I can’t stop noticing everything. The whistles, Tyler’s name getting shouted every time he touches the ball, the cheers from the student section… and her.I spotted Amber almost immediately when Maya, Noah, and I arrived for the game. Westbrook’s side of the stands is packed, but she stands out anyway – leaning casually against the railing and wearing their school colors like she was made for them.Maya notices me stiffen beside her. “Oh,” she says slowly. “She’s here.”“Yes,” I mutter.Noah leans forward. “That’s Amber?”“Yup,” I mutter, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into my tone.Maya had filled Noah in about our mall encounter the minute he showed up to pick us up. After Amber’s reveal, Maya had blurted out that I was Tyler’s girlfriend. Then, three of us had proceeded to have an excruciatingly awkward hair session, before eventually parting ways.
The school trip announcement is the highlight of every senior at Eastfield High’s week.“Two-day educational excursion,” Mrs. Teagues had announced yesterday, standing at the front of AP English with far too much enthusiasm for eight in the morning. “We’ll be visiting Monterey Bay and staying overnight. The focus will be marine conservation, environmental studies, and college preparation.”Half the class had been excited to have a break from the monotonousness of school, while the other half immediately started asking about room assignments.Maya and I had looked at each other and said the same thing at the exact same time. “Road trip.”Now, twenty-four hours later, we’re at the mall because Maya insists that we have to get our hair and nails done for the trip.“I don’t see why we have to do this when prom is still in a few weeks,” I mumble beside her as we take our seat in nail salon’s waiting room.Sighing dramatically, Maya turns to me. “Do you have a
The music wing is one of the few places in school that’s still buzzing even after classes end.Most students have already gone home, the football team is at practice, and teachers are wrapping up for the day. Meanwhile, Maya is still trapped inside rehearsal, which leaves me sitting alone on a bench outside the band room with a sketchbook balanced on my knees.I should be drawing. Instead, I’m staring at the same blank page I’ve been staring at for ten minutes.My thoughts keep drifting to Mom and the fact that we’re both refusing to speak to each other despite Dad’s attempts to salvage the situation. At least, Tyler has been super supportive through it all. Always checking in and taking my mind off it.A smile tugs at my lips before I can stop it.And then a familiar voice ruins it. “Wow.”I don’t even look up.“I’ve seen happier funeral attendees.”“Go away, Jake.”“Aw.” His sneakers scrape against the floor as he drops onto the bench besid
I wonder if Mom would stop talking if I rammed the grocery cart straight into the display of canned tomatoes we just passed.The urge to do it is certainly getting stronger by the minute.“...and another thing,” Mom continues, completely oblivious to my train of thoughts as she exami
The second the closet door flies open, I stumble forward on shaking legs.Air rushes into my lungs so fast it hurts. For a few terrifying seconds, I can only stand there bent over with my hands braced on my knees, trying to breathe through the panic clawing at my chest.“Lila.” Noah’s voi
The party is loud enough to make the floor vibrate.Music pounds through the walls of Alex’s house while colored lights flash across the crowded living room. Everywhere I look, people are laughing, dancing, shouting over one another, or squeezing onto furniture that was definitely not meant t
The bell above the diner’s door jingles as we pile inside, bringing a gust of cool evening air with us.After the emotional rollercoaster of the exhibition, the red vinyl booths, checkered floors, and smell of burgers and fries feels oddly normal. Maybe that’s why I like it immediately.W







