Ella The next morning, I know almost immediately that I made a mistake. Not about almost kissing Beckett. Not about letting myself want him. About letting myself believe any of it actually meant something. Because the second I walk through the front doors of school, reality is waiting for me. And reality looks a lot like Beckett Carter standing in the middle of the hallway surrounded by half the soccer team. Laughing. Talking. Existing so effortlessly in a world that has never once felt effortless to me. I stop at my locker and pretend I’m looking for a book I already pulled out ten minutes ago. Mostly because I don’t trust myself not to look at him. Which is ridiculous. Because two nights ago, he was standing inches away from me in the hallway outside our bedrooms. Two nights ago, his hand was on my face. Two nights ago, he looked at me like— No. Not finishing that thought. I shove a notebook into my bag harder than necessary. The locker rattles. “Someone’s in a go
Read more