A NERD FOR THE HOCKEY ALPHA
I can feel it sometimes, like a low pull in my chest, like a whisper I can’t quite shut out.
There are nights I swear I hear him call me. Not Ronan. Darko. His voice isn’t words, but it’s there, in the back of my mind, tugging, scratching, begging for me to answer. I lie awake with my heart pounding, staring at the ceiling, forcing myself not to respond because I know what it’ll do to me if I give in.
“Calla,” Blaire says softly, pulling me out of it.
I glance at her, and she’s not smirking anymore. She’s watching me carefully, like she knows exactly where my thoughts just went. And she does. She’s the only one who does.
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