Page 32 of Watching You

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Four. Five. Six.

But the numbers won’t hold. They slip. They tangle. They bleed into each other like watercolors left out in the rain.

Seven. Eight.

No—wait. I already said eight. Or did I skip it?

I start again.

One. Two.

Micah’s voice:He’s got girls lined up.

Three. Four.

Kane’s breath on my neck:You’re mine.

Five. Six.

My own voice:I want it to be you.

Seven—

Ichoke on it.

Tears spill down my cheeks before I even feel them coming. My knees hit the floor. My palms press to the rug. I try to breathe in fours. I try to tap my fingers in rhythm. I try to anchor myself.

But the numbers won’t stay.

The steps won’t hold.

And I don’t know how to quiet the storm Kane left behind.

I curl in on myself, forehead to the floor, and whisper the only thing I can manage.

“Please… just stop.”

But nothing does.

I check my alarm twice.

6:45 AM.

Then again.

Still 6:45.

It’s the only thing that feels solid. The only thing I can control.

And then my phone buzzes.

I glance down, heart already stuttering.

Kane:

Meet me before the game tomorrow.

My stomach flutters. Then drops.

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