Page 32 of Watching You

Four. Five. Six.

But the numbers won’t hold. They slip. They tangle. They bleed into each other like watercolors left out in the rain.

Seven. Eight.

No—wait. I already said eight. Or did I skip it?

I start again.

One. Two.

Micah’s voice:He’s got girls lined up.

Three. Four.

Kane’s breath on my neck:You’re mine.

Five. Six.

My own voice:I want it to be you.

Seven—

Ichoke on it.

Tears spill down my cheeks before I even feel them coming. My knees hit the floor. My palms press to the rug. I try to breathe in fours. I try to tap my fingers in rhythm. I try to anchor myself.

But the numbers won’t stay.

The steps won’t hold.

And I don’t know how to quiet the storm Kane left behind.

I curl in on myself, forehead to the floor, and whisper the only thing I can manage.

“Please… just stop.”

But nothing does.

I check my alarm twice.

6:45 AM.

Then again.

Still 6:45.

It’s the only thing that feels solid. The only thing I can control.

And then my phone buzzes.

I glance down, heart already stuttering.

Kane:

Meet me before the game tomorrow.

My stomach flutters. Then drops.