Page 15 of End Game

It’s so depressing to think of all my things ending up in a dumpster somewhere. Tossed out and forgotten forever.

“Did they steal any candles?” His brows shift upward ever so slightly.

“No, no candles.” What a strange question.

He almost seems to sigh with relief at my answer, which is also strange.

“But you know what I mean. They stole my favorite bedside table lamp my mom bought me for Christmas, and I had this cute little tray my grandma gave me a long time ago that I like to leave my jewelry on before I go to bed at night. Oh, my jewelry.” I finger the necklace that I’m still wearing. The simple gold hoops that are in my ears.

None of it was worth much dollar-wise, but it was worth everything to me.

Do not cry. Do not cry.

“That might’ve had some value,” he says.

“It was pretty much all costume.” I settle onto the edge of the mattress, my shoulders drooping. After a long day of just trying to keep it together, I finally wallow in my misery, feeling defeated. “This sucks.”

“When do you take the car in to be fixed?”

“Monday morning. I can drop it off whenever.”

“Need a lift to the mechanic?” I send him a questioning look, which has him explaining himself more. “I offer because I’m the only one who has a car here besides you.”

“Got it.” I nod. He’s being terribly nice, which wasn’t the vibe I got from him earlier. He went from charming to annoyed rather quickly with the idea of me moving in. Now he’s nice again, but definitely not as charming.

He’s actually pretty confusing, but maybe that’s more a me issue because I’ve had the worst, most stressful last couple of days of my life and I’m exhausted.

“I actually planned on taking the bus back over here.” I need to test it out because despite having a car, I don’t want to pay for an on-campus parking permit. I need to learn the public transit system in this town, and I’ll be walking a lot too. No matter what, I’m definitely going to need to save money, especially now that I have some added expenses.

“Well, the offer still stands if you don’t want to deal with the bus.”

“Thank you.” I smile at him. “I appreciate it.”

“If you need a ride Monday morning, let me know.” He pushes away from the doorjamb and is about to leave when I say something.

“I thought you had practice in the morning,” I remind him.

He stops, glancing over his shoulder and flashing that devastating smile. “You’re right. I do.”

I say nothing else. It’s like I can’t. Seeing that smile steals brain cells, and I’m already feeling pretty depleted thanks to everything that’s happened over the last couple of days.

He eventually walks away, and I slowly shut the door, sagging against it. Staring at my barren room.

It may be empty, and I don’t own hardly anything, but at least this is mine.

At least this is home.

I wake up two hours later with a crick in my neck from sleeping without a pillow—I never did grab one from Nico’s stash—and the room shrouded in darkness. I lie there for a moment, vaguely disoriented as my eyes slowly adjust. Then I hear it coming from the open window, the vertical blinds clacking against each other lightly as a breeze blows through.

The faint sound of the ocean.

When I roll over onto my phone, I grab it from beneath my thigh and check my notifications, not surprised at all to find I don’t really have any beyond a couple of social media updates.

What did I expect? I dumped Brad. My mom didn’t want me to leave home in the first place, so I’m sure she’s mad at me. Holding a grudge like she’s so good at doing. And the few friends I have back home I wasn’t in contact with much the last year or so because Brad wanted all my time when I wasn’t working. I let those friendships drift away, and now I regret it.

Right now, it feels like I have no one.

Eventually I climb out of bed and rotate my neck a few times, working out the stiffness. I can hear murmured conversation coming from the living room, and when I pop open my bedroom door, I realize there are a bunch of people here in the house. And not just my roommates.

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