Page 25 of Press Play

“She’s in town and doesn’t have anywhere to go. She’s going to stay here tonight, but she’ll be gone in the morning,” I tell her cautiously.

“Sure, don’t worry about me.”

I swear her tone softens with the hint of disappointment, but I swallow the thought.

Wren nibbles on her sandwich, her attention back on the TV, and the silence stretches between us, heavier than it should be. It’s not the comfortable kind of quiet we’ve always had—it’s the kind that makes me feel like something unsaid is hanging in the air.

I keep glancing at her, waiting for her to say something, maybe to give me a hard time about Amanda staying over, but she doesn’t. Instead, she just sits there, focused on her cartoon, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. But the way she clutches her pillow, the way her eyes occasionally drift toward me and then back to the TV, it’s like she’s trying not to let something show.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I ask.

She shrugs, the movement small and almost dismissive. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. She’ll be gone in the morning, right?”

“Right,” I say, but it doesn’tfeelright.

I can see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. It’s like she’s building a wall between us, and I’m on the outside looking in.

The thing is, IknowWren and how her mind works—how she overthinks every little thing. And right now, I can practically see the gears turning in her head, wondering if Amanda being here means something.

She must know that it doesn’t. At least, it shouldn’t. I open my mouth to say something, but my brain overpowers me.

Wren is my best friend and nothing more. So why do I feel the need to overexplain myself?

I watch her for a moment longer, taking in the way her shoulders are hunched slightly, the way she’s not meeting my eyes anymore. And I hate it. I hate that she feels like she has to hide whatever she’s feeling from me.

“Wren,” I say quietly, leaning forward, trying to catch her attention.

She looks up, her expression carefully neutral. “I’m fine, Theo. Really.” She gives me a tight smile.

And it’s then I realize that no matter what I say, she won’t believe me. She won’t let herself believe that I care—reallycare—about her.

“Just be careful. If I recall, she’s not the nicest person.”

The silence stretches again, and frustration festers inside me. I want to say something, to make her understand that Amanda being here doesn’t mean anything. But instead, I just sit back, my fingers tightening around my drink.

Maybe it’s better if I just leave it alone for now.

Chapter Twelve

Wren

2011-Eleventh Grade

Makingmyself cozy in the living room was easy. All I need is my laptop, a blanket, and my cell phone. Not that I think anyone will text me. It’s just nice to have. The problem is, there’s nothing for me to do. Theo usually keeps me occupied, but he’s not here, which means I’m sitting in my game just as bored as I am in real life.

With a sigh, I check my phone and groan when I see it’s only eight p.m. What am I supposed to do for the next four hours until my body decides it’s time to go to sleep?

A loud slam echoes from upstairs, followed by my sisters’ raised voices as they yell at one another.

“I told you not to use my iPod without my permission!” Amelia shouts.

“I asked you two hours ago! It’s not my fault you forgot!” Pen hollers back.

“You never asked!”

“I did too!”

The floorboards creak under their stomping feet, and I flinch as the yelling resumes.

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