LOGINPlease don't forget to drop comments as they are my ultimate source of motivation.
WRENLEYI shut my bedroom door, press my back flat against the wood, and slide down until I hit the floor.My chest is heaving. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs, digging my fingernails into my shins so hard it hurts. I need the pain. I need the sharp sting to cut through the humiliation burning in my throat.I can't believe he pulled away.I squeeze my eyes shut, but it doesn't help. The image is burned onto the back of my eyelids. For one pathetic, delusional second, I actually thought he was going to kiss me.I thought the public display with Elise in the quad was a mistake. I thought the tension radiating off him in the kitchen meant he was feeling the exact same magnetic, agonizing pull that has been tearing me apart for weeks. I leaned in, practically offering myself to him.And he stepped back.He looked at me, remembered the girl he actually wants, and he stepped backward.A hot, furious tear escapes, tracking down my cheek. I angrily scrub it away
AURELThe house is completely silent when I finally walk through the front door.It’s past midnight. I spent the last three hours driving up and down the highway with the radio off and the windows wound down, trying to outrun the suffocation my chest. It didn't work. My lungs still feel restricted. The ghost of the panic attack from the athletic lobby is still sitting right behind my ribs, a dull, constant ache reminding me that my entire life is currently entirely out of my control.I toe my boots off in the entryway and drop my keys into the bowl on the table. The metal clinking against ceramic sounds obnoxiously loud in the dark.I rub the back of my neck, walking down the hall toward the kitchen. I just want a glass of water. I want to go upstairs, pass out, and forget that I have to wake up tomorrow and lie to everyone all over again.I turn the corner and stop.The overhead lights in the kitchen are off, but the warm yellow bulb above the stove is glowing.And there is the cause
AURELThere is a specific kind of cold that lives inside a hockey arena. It doesn't matter how many layers you wear; it sinks straight through your clothes and settles directly into your joints.I’ve spent my entire life on the ice, and the cold has never bothered me. But today, sitting in the third row of the empty metal bleachers in street clothes, I am shivering.Down on the ice, the team is running a high-speed breakout drill. The sharp, rhythmic scrape of skate blades against the ice and the crack of sticks receiving heavy passes echo through the building. Coach is blowing his whistle, barking orders at the first line.I am completely invisible to him. I am invisible to everyone down there, except Finn, who occasionally glances up at me through the cage of his goalie mask before resetting his stance.Being benched isn't just about missing game time, it's worse than that almost like a humiliation ritual. I am the captain, but I am sitting in the stands holding a soda can, watching
WRENLEYIt is Thursday afternoon and the campus design lab has thirty other art students realising midterm are next week. The heavy industrial sewing machines are running in a continuous, deafening hum. To a normal human, it’s just loud. To me, with hearing meant for tracking prey through a silent forest, the overlapping mechanical grinding is like a drill pressing directly into my temples.I have three days left until Finn’s Sunday deadline. Three days until I either pack my trash bags and leave the only safe place I’ve had in a year, or Aurel’s best friend goes to the athletic board and gets me expelled."You're glaring at that fabric like it did something to you."I blink, dragging my eyes up from the needle. Priya is leaning against the edge of my cutting table. She is holding a half-empty iced coffee, wearing a flawlessly layered outfit and looking at me with mild concern."It’s this stupid stretchy material, " I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. My muscles are screaming in pr
WRENLEYWednesday morning swim practice ends with Coach Diaz blowing his whistle so hard."Seven days, ladies!" he yells, pointing a finger at the team as we pull ourselves out of the pool. "The scouts land in exactly seven days. If your turns are sloppy today, they’ll be sloppy next week. Fix it."I grab my towel from the bench and wrap it tightly around my shoulders. My muscles are aching, a deep, heavy fatigue settling right into my bones. The Fade hasn't stopped, but after my date with Jerry last night, the panic in my chest feels a little quieter. For the first time in weeks, I actually slept through the night.I take a quick shower, change into a pair of sweatpants and a heavy hoodie, and stuff my wet gear into my duffel bag.I walk out of the women’s locker room into the long corridor that connects the natatorium to the hockey arena. It is early enough that the hallway is mostly empty, smelling faintly of floor wax and stale air.I sling my bag over my shoulder, pulling my keys
AURELYou wouldn't believe I haven't moved from the couch since she left. I am sitting on the living room sofa in complete darkness. The television is off. The lamps are off. The only light in the room is the pale, amber glow of the streetlamp filtering through the front window, cutting a sharp rectangle across the floor.For some weird reason, my brain is now a miserable, relentless projector screen. Every time I close my eyes, I see exactly what is happening across town. I see Jerry pulling into the parking lot at The Anchor. I see him asking for the back booth. I see him gesturing for Wrenley to take the inside seat so she can face the door. I see her face relax when she realizes she doesn't have to watch her back.Was I really that obsessed with her?A low, pathetic whine vibrates in the back of my throat. Something inside me has been pacing against my ribs all night, restless and violently agitated, completely incapable of understanding why I let her leave with another male. The
WrenlyThe campus gym at four in the afternoon is the probably the worst possible place to be having a crisis about Aurel Castell's arms, but here I am doing just that.The place is loud; from the clanking of the metal plates, somebody's bad playlist leaking out of the corner speaker, two guys near
WRENLEYBy six in the morning my whole life is in three trash bags on the curb.I packed them by phone light so I wouldn't have to turn on a lamp I no longer pay for.The first bag is clothes. The second is the swim gear, which is the only thing in any of the bags worth more than the bags. The thir
WRENLEYHis name is Jerry.That's all I got at the party before Tess dragged me to the snack table and started narrating the social standing of everyone in the room like I'd asked.I remember leaving there feeling things I never thought was possible. Meanwhile, Aurel has been trying to talk to me a
AURELI've been holding the same cup for an hour so people stop handing me new ones."Hey dude, great game," some guy that I've never met before says while shaking my hand. "You really were fire out there.""Thanks," I smiled, soaking in the praises as the room erupted in my chants. Everyone except







