Semua Bab My Bruised Heart: Bab 101 - Bab 106

MILES Lunch was over way too quickly. The second Dominic and I stepped out of the library, the stares returned like they'd been waiting for us. Silent, sharp. Hungry. Added by the whispers. "Think she's the jumper?" "What kind of psycho jumps off a cliff unless they’re trying to die?" It shouldn't have bothered me. And it didn’t. Not really. But the attention? The spotlight? That made my skin crawl. The worst part was that Dom looked like he was barely holding it together. His jaw ticked every few steps. His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to grab mine. Like maybe that would ground him. Or maybe it would ground me. It didn’t even matter what they said. They were going to talk. They were going to look. Not because of me. Not just because of me. But because of him. Dominic Black. The golden boy, the prince of the campus—was hovering over the broken girl who looked an awful lot like the one who jumped off a fucking cliff. Earlier in class, I heard people whisp

DOMINICI didn’t realize how loud it was in my head until everything else went quiet.The sound of lockers slamming, cleats against tile, water running in the showers—none of it touched me. I was stuck. Floating somewhere between rage and guilt, fear and this fucking ache in my chest that wouldn’t go away.Marcus walked in, tossing a water bottle onto the bench beside me.“You’re spiraling.”“Wow. Thanks for the diagnosis, Dr. Phil.” I didn’t look up. “Where the hell have you been?”He sighed and plopped down next to me. “Dealing with Mommy Dearest.”That was all he said. I didn’t pry. Not here. Not yet. Not with our teammates still around. The walls had ears.He patted his lap. “Come on, lay back and tell me all about it.”I grimaced. “Dude, no.”“You know you want to. You’ve been giving me those ‘comfort me’ eyes for days. It’s calling to me.”The way my eyes were slapping his face—over and over—“Don’t deny me.”I didn’t want to talk about it. But fuck—I needed to. Everything from

MILESDominic was avoiding me.I knew it the second I stepped into the dining room and he wasn’t in his usual seat. His coffee cup was there. His plate too—untouched eggs, bacon, and a side of French toast. Still warm. But him?Gone.Again.“Morning, my raven,” Maverick said, folding down the corner of his newspaper. He hadn’t even looked at me and yet, somehow, always knew when I walked in.I slid into the seat beside him wondering where my usual bagels were. Was I starting to expect things? “Morning," I said.He raised an eyebrow, expectant. "...Dad.”He smiled. Soft. Still surprised, even after hearing it three times this week.It felt almost natural now. I found it strange myself how the word rolled off my tongue so smoothly. Like I’d always called him that.But it wasn’t for Maverick that I said it.It was for her.Candice hadn’t been home in three days. Not since that last visit to the hospital. Not since the boys cornered her.No phone calls. No dramatic speeches. No petty re