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What She Doesn't Correct
Data de publicação:
2026-09-02 17:32:17
Último capítulo
To my Romeo, I am dying What She Doesn't Correct
By Monday, somebody had decided Marcus and I were dating.I found out because Emma asked whether I was going to tell her myself or make her hear it from somebody in chemistry. We were standing outside English, and I was trying to find a pen in the bottom of my bag while people pushed past us into class. At first I thought she meant the argument with Grey. Enough people had seen us outside the auditorium on Friday that I wouldn't have been surprised if that had made its way around school too. Then Emma said Marcus's name, and I stopped digging through my bag.Apparently the story had improved over the weekend. Marcus had driven me home after rehearsal. We'd been spending every afternoon together. Someone had seen him carrying my sketchbook to his car on Friday, which was true, although the part where I'd forgotten it backstage hadn't survived. According to Emma, there was even a version where we'd kissed behind the auditorium. That one almost made me laugh. I asked where people found t
To my Romeo, I am dying You look happy with him
Grey was waiting outside the auditorium when I came out after rehearsal, which was strange enough that I stopped walking. He stood beside the trophy case with his backpack on the floor between his shoes and his phone in one hand. He'd left rehearsal nearly twenty minutes earlier. I'd watched him go. I had assumed he'd driven home, or gone to football practice, or decided he'd had enough of watching me forget lines for one afternoon. Instead, there he was, scrolling through something on his phone without actually moving his thumb. Marcus came through the doors behind me carrying the empty crate we'd spent most of rehearsal sorting. He asked if I wanted him to bring my bag out too, and I told him I already had it. He nodded, told me he'd see me Monday, then headed toward the parking lot. I watched him wrestle the crate into the back seat of his car before I looked at Grey again. He had put his phone away.For a second, neither of us said anything. I wondered if this was finally it. Maybe
To my Romeo, I am dying Borrowed Strength
By Thursday, the crate Marcus had rescued from me the day before was back beside the costume rack, filled with plastic goblets, fake fruit and two silver candlesticks that looked expensive until you picked them up. Mr Alvarez wanted everything separated before rehearsal started, so I sat on the floor with masking tape stuck to one knee and wrote labels while Marcus carried things from one end of the auditorium to the other. He hadn't asked why I was sitting or why I'd stopped carrying the boxes myself. He'd simply dropped a marker beside me, muttered that my handwriting was less offensive than his, and gone back for another load. I liked him a little for that, though I wasn't sure whether I liked him or just liked not having to explain myself.When he returned with three fake swords balanced against his chest, he nodded toward the piles around me. "Where do these go?""Props.""Everything in here is a prop.""The cabinet marked weapons.""There is a weapons cabinet?""Behind the curtai
To my Romeo, I am dying Tired hands
The nurse found a vein on the second try."Sorry.""It's okay."It wasn't her fault. My veins had started playing games months ago.She taped everything down, checked the line once more, then smiled the way hospital nurses always seemed to."I'll be back in a little while."The curtain slid shut behind her.Mom pulled her chair closer."You want the blanket?"I nodded.She tucked it over my legs like she used to when I was little and fell asleep on the sofa during movie nights. Back then she'd kiss my forehead and tell me to go upstairs before I caught a cold.Funny what mothers never stop doing."You don't have to stay awake," she said."I know.""You always try.""I don't like sleeping here.""You think something bad will happen if you close your eyes."I looked over.She wasn't asking.She already knew."I just..."The words refused to line up."I hate waking up and forgetting where I am."Mom reached over and rubbed circles across the back of my hand."I know."For a while all we
To my Romeo, I am dying Tuesday Again
Tuesday started the way it always did.Mom knocked once before opening my bedroom door."You awake?""I am now.""You've got twenty minutes.""I know."She didn't remind me where we were going.She never did anymore.She simply left the door half open and headed downstairs.That was our routine.The less we said about Tuesdays, the easier they were to survive.I sat on the edge of the bed for a while, staring at the hoodie hanging over my desk chair.Gray had left it at my house last winter after helping Dad shovel snow. I'd washed it twice since then. It still smelled faintly like the detergent his mum always bought.I almost folded it into my wardrobe.Instead, I pulled it on.It was easier than thinking.---School looked exactly the same.The brick walls.The flag moving lazily above the entrance.Mrs. Dawson directing traffic in the drop-off lane like she did every morning.Funny how places stayed the same while everything inside them changed.I reached my locker just as the warn
To my Romeo, I am dying The Things Nobody Meant
Gray almost made it to the parking lot before Sable caught up to him."Hey. You forgot your water bottle."He looked down. She was right. He took it from her. "Thanks.""No problem."She could have peeled off there and let that be the end of it. Instead they ended up walking the same direction anyway, neither one saying much for a minute. The evening smelled like wet grass, and somewhere behind the football field a mower droned on and on without ever seeming to finish."You've been quiet lately," Sable said.He shrugged. "Guess so.""My brother gets like that too.""You have a brother?""Older one.""Does he talk when something's wrong?""He does the opposite. Goes completely silent."Gray laughed a little, short and quiet. "Sounds familiar.""Yeah, I figured."Neither of them said anything else until they got to the bike racks. Sable rested a hand on the col
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