Page 73 of Under the Lights

I stood rooted to the scuffed hardwood floor, staring at the string lights I had lazily left on above my headboard. Their dim amber glow made everything feel somehow more surreal.

My mind, though, was racing a thousand miles a minute.

“Excellent. We’re excited to have you on board. I’ll email you all the details. See you next week!”

“Thank you so much! I can’t wait.”

The line disconnected and the room fell silent, except for the distant hum of traffic outside the cracked window and the faint whir of the ceiling fan.

There were so many thoughts racing through my head at once, so many things to do, that I couldn’t move. I was paralyzed, even though I had absolutely no time to just stand around. Ihadto move.

As I was dragging clothes out of drawers, piling them neatly on my bed, I couldn’t help but think that this was probably exactly what I needed.

Some time away would help me get my head on straight. By the time I returned, Dom would be confronted with a flood of freshmen girls fawning over him.Win-win.

And I was definitelynotrunning.

***

DOM: When I said I know you’re gonna run, I didn’t mean literally run to a whole ass different state

DOM: My bad, clearly I should’ve given better instructions

SIERRA: How did you get this number?

DOM: Ella

DOM: Duh

DOM: Her passcode has been the same since middle school

SIERRA: Sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is currently enrolled in a ’detox from bad decisions’ program.

DOM: Damn

DOM: Guess I’m your favorite bad decision then

SIERRA: Goodbye.

I shoved my phone to the bottom of my duffel bag, then kicked open the door to my new summer housing. The place was … fine.

It was clean in the same way that a hospital room is clean: white walls, standard-issue furniture, and not a single fucking thing that showed any personality.

Kind of sterile. Definitely not home.

I dropped my bags by the bed and glanced around. There was no time to unpack — I had two hours before our first scrimmage. No distractions.

Definitely not from the six-foot-five hunk who was still texting me, acting like I hadn’t ghosted him on purpose.

***

DOM: It’s okay to miss me, you know

DOM: But I guess you can make even denial look good

SIERRA: What can I say, I was born this way. It’s one of my many talents.

DOM: Guess you don’t care that I miss you then?

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