Page 70 of Don't Puck the Wrong Brother

"I'm fine," I insist. "Just bruised."

"We'll let the X-ray determine that," he says firmly. "I'll set it up for this afternoon."

I leave the training room with an ice pack, a bottle of anti-inflammatories, and strict instructions to rest. With a free day ahead of me and no desire to face the curious stares of my classmates, I head back to my apartment.

My phone buzzes as I unlock the door. Miller this time.

Heard about the fight. You good?

I'll live. Coach didn't bench me, so there's that.

Good. Team needs you. Want company? I'm free until 2.

I consider the offer. Miller's a good friend and maybe talking it through would help. But I'm not sure I have the energy for his questions or, worse, his well-meaning advice.

Thanks, but I think I'm just going to sleep. Catch you tomorrow.

Roger that. Rest up, Rocky.

I smile despite myself. Even my friends are making jokes about the fight. By tomorrow, it'll be a full-blown campus legend.

I check my phone one more time, hoping for a message from Hannah, but there's nothing. No matter how much I want to call her, to explain, to make sure she's okay, I can’t push it. Not after yesterday.

Instead, I force myself to put the phone down and stretch out on the couch, flipping on the TV for distraction. But my mind keeps circling back to Hannah, to Cade, to the mess that is my life.

Chapter 19

The past three days have been a blur of textbooks, highlighters, and coffee. My dorm room, once just a place to sleep between classes and social activities, has become my fortress of solitude. I've only left for essential trips—classes, the bathroom, occasional food runs when I can no longer ignore my growling stomach. Luckily my roommate is never here. Truthfully, I’ve only seen her a handful of times, but it’s nice during times like these because my room is my sanctuary.

This routine is safer this way. Within these four walls, there are no curious stares, no whispered conversations that halt when I walk by, no chance encounters with either Sanderson or Cade. Just me, my studies, and the fortress of pillows I've constructed on my bed like some academic nest.

"You can't hide forever," Lennox said when she stopped by yesterday, taking in the empty coffee cups and scattered papers that have overtaken my normally tidy space.

"I'm not hiding," I insisted. "I'm studying. Finals are coming up."

She didn't believe me, but she also didn't push. Instead, she helped clear some of the clutter, made me eat a proper meal, and promised to check in again today.

I'm midway through a practice exam for Bio Ethics when my phone buzzes with a new message in the group chat with Lennox, Greta, and Finley.

Greta:Does anyone have notes from Johnson's lecture on Tuesday? I was at that track meet and he said something about that being on the final?

Finley:I've got them! I can scan them after my shift at the library tonight.

Greta:You're a lifesaver

Lennox:Speaking of lifesavers, who's coming to the end-of-semester bonfire next weekend? Tau Delt is hosting and I need moral support if I'm going to face Jake after what happened at the last party.

I hesitate, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. The last thing I want to do is go to a party where I might run into Cade or Sanderson. But I also miss my friends, miss feeling normal instead of like the main character in some campus drama.

Finley:I'm in! Need to blow off steam after finals.

Greta:Same, though I might be late. Coach added an extra practice.

Lennox:Hannah? You coming or still embracing your new hermit lifestyle?

I roll my eyes at the screen.

Hannah:Maybe. Let's see how finals go.

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