Page 73 of Sincerely, Your Enemy

Kelsea and Sierra have become extremely close over the past two months. From what I’ve seen, they text and talk on the phone every night. I hear Sierra laughing whenever I walk past her room, and every time I ask her who she’s on the phone with, she says it’s Kelsea.

For all I know, she might be lying, but I didn’t have the energy to pick a fight with her without concrete evidence. As long as she’s not sneaking out of her window and into college parties, I’m happy.

“Mattson,” TJ greets me with a nod, which I return before stepping aside to let them in.

The girls have disappeared into Sierra’s room in the blink of an eye, and TJ and I are left to stare at each other.

“You ready for our lesson?” he asks to break the silence.

“Of course.”

I love how we’re just pretending like I wasn’t coming on his face less than a week ago.

This isn’t weird at all.

I gesture for him to follow me with a flick of my chin. “Come on.”

I make a beeline for my bedroom instead of the couch—i.e., our usual spot. My back’s been hurting like crazy from having to wear the most uncomfortable shoes at work, and the couch that came with the apartment feels like it’s made of stone.

I could manage my pain when I was working reasonable hours, but I’ve been killing myself, picking up doubles every chance I get to make up for missing a week when I was sick. I’ve worked every night this week.

I knew my work shoes were on their last legs, but I thought I’d tough them out until the end of the year at least.

“We’re not going to the living room?” TJ asks behind me.

I push my bedroom door open. “My back is killing me. I’d feel more comfortable in my bed, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure. Whatever you want.”

I plop down onto my bed with a groan and prop up a pillow to lean against.

TJ takes a seat at the edge of my bed, dropping his backpack at his side. “You sure you’re okay? We can reschedule when you feel better.”

I shift around to try and alleviate my pain. “I’m fine. Let’s do this.”

He doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t insist, laying his books out on my bed.

“I thinkthat’s enough for today,” TJ announces less than an hour into our lesson.

I rub my eyes, which are so itchy and painful I’m sure they’re bloodshot. “What? We’re not done.”

TJ pushes off my bed. “You’ve been yawning your head off since we started. When’s the last time you got eight hours of sleep?”

I scoff. “When I was in high school. Come on—” I pat my bed. “—I promised I’d get you ready for midterms.”

“Lacey.” The stern expression on his face tells me he’s made up his mind. “You need to start taking care of yourself.”

“You don’t think I don’t know that? I don’t have a choice. Taking care of myself doesn’t pay the bills, TJ.”

Silence befalls us.

Shit, I didn’t mean to go off on him.

I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I… I’m just at the end of my rope.”

I proceed to rise off my bed as well, but the pain in my back immediately worsens, and I can’t stop myself from wincing.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat. I hate how vulnerable this makes me look. I’m usually good at keeping up appearances.

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