Chapter 16

Meghan's POV

After that conversation, we all stayed in the apartment for the rest of the day.

No one really pushed anything.

It was just… easy in a way I didn’t realize I needed. Soft laughter, random conversations, someone always moving between the kitchen and the couch like we were all trying to pretend the heaviness from earlier didn’t exist anymore.

By the time Sunday rolls around, the sunlight outside is dull and lazy, filtering through the windows like the world is moving slower on purpose.

Tomorrow is Monday.

School.

Reality.

And yet I can’t focus on any of it.

Because my brain keeps going back to Oliver.

Ollie.

Every time I try to think about anything else, he slips back in. The way he looked at me. The way he held me like it wasn’t even a question. The way my entire body seems to react before my mind can catch up.

It doesn’t make sense.

And that’s what scares me most.

Because everything in me keeps whispering the same thing—

there’s something more there.

Something I don’t fully understand yet.

But I have no idea if I’m imagining it… or if he feels it too.

“Meghan.”

Eliana’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I blink, realizing I’ve been staring at nothing for way too long.

“What?” I ask, dragging myself back into the moment.

She’s standing near the hallway now, keys in one hand, phone in the other. “What do you want for dinner? I’m ordering.”

“Oh—uh.” I hesitate. “Chicken Alfredo.”

A slow, knowing smirk spreads across her face like she’s been waiting for me to come back to Earth all day.

“Shocking,” she says.

“Excuse you?”

“You’ve been in a coma since yesterday and your only personality trait right now is pasta.”

“Rude,” I mutter.

She laughs under her breath and disappears down the hallway, already tapping away at her phone.

The apartment settles again.

Quieter now.

It’s just me and Kylah on the couch at this point. Anya is at the dining table, fully locked into studying for her exam tomorrow, highlighter in hand and absolutely zero tolerance for distractions.

Kylah is half curled into the cushions beside me, scrolling on her phone.

And I can feel it.

The opportunity.

I turn slightly toward her, lips already twitching.

“Kylah,” I say sweetly.

She doesn’t look up. “No.”

“I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“You have that tone.”

I smile anyway. “So…”

That gets her attention. She lowers her phone just enough to eye me suspiciously. “Oh no.”

I lean back into the couch like I’m completely innocent. “What was going on with you and Shane?”

She scoffs immediately. “Nothing.”

“That was instant. That’s suspicious.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Mhm.”

From the dining table, Anya glances up briefly, clearly listening now but pretending she isn’t.

Kylah points at me. “Don’t act like you’re not over here spiraling over your own situation.”

I pause. “My situation?”

“Ollie.”

My stomach flips instantly.

“I am not spiraling,” I say too quickly.

“Right,” she nods. “Totally normal behavior then. Crying into his chest, staring at him like he hung the moon, jumping into him—”

“I did not jump into him.”

“You absolutely did.”

“I was emotionally compromised.”

“That’s called spiraling.”

I open my mouth.

Close it again.

Because unfortunately… I have nothing.

Kylah leans back smugly, clearly enjoying herself now.

And that’s when I notice it.

Her phone.

Still in her hand.

Her thumb typing rapidly like she’s mid-conversation with someone.

I narrow my eyes.

“…so,” I say slowly, “who are you texting?”

That does it.

She freezes.

Like completely freezes.

Her eyes flick down to her phone, then back up at me way too quickly.

“Oh my God,” I say immediately.

Kylah sits up straighter. “Nope.”

“Yes.”

“It’s nothing.” she mutters.

“That was not nothing energy.”

Anya even looks over now, fully entertained.

Kylah tries to lock her phone, but I’ve already seen enough.

Her face starts turning pink.

Then red.

Fast.

“Oh my God,” I repeat, sitting up now. “You’re blushing.”

“I am NOT—”

“You are literally beet red right now.”

“I hate you.”

Anya smirks from the table. “Is it Shane?”

Kylah whips around. “NO.”

Which, unfortunately for her, confirms everything.

I gasp. “It IS Shane.”

“It’s not Shane!”

But her voice goes up half an octave, and that just makes it worse.

Now she’s fully red, glaring at all of us while still clutching her phone like it’s evidence.

And for the first time all day—

I completely forget about Ollie for about five seconds just long enough to enjoy this.