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chapter nine, field of stares ─────────────────
Grace felt suffocated.
Her breath caught as Alex's words hung in the air. A sinking feeling enveloped her chest, leaving it devoid of its usual ease, and she noticed her mouth going dry, her lips tingling.
He had taken her to the watering hole.
—The very same watering hole he took her to the day before.
The words etched into her skin, imprinting themselves on the tip of her tongue, behind her eyelids, and between her eyebrows.
"Grace?" Alex's voice faded amidst the cheers, a hint of concern in his tone. His face became clear for a fleeting moment before washing over again in Grace's clouded mind.
Her thoughts were in disarray.
Breath caught in her throat.
"Grace?" He repeated, the soft touch of his hand on her shoulder making her blink, prompting a step back.
"Don't," she uttered barely above a whisper, her lips cracking with the word. "Please."
Alex's eyes widened, his chest rising and falling. It seemed as if he had pieced everything together, connecting the dots in two words.
"Oh, god," he started, hastily pulling off his hat and moving closer to Grace, who instinctively took a step back.
The crowd erupted into cheers again, and panic settled in the pit of Grace's stomach with each clap. She couldn't be here any longer.
"Grace," he pleaded, coming to a stop and fidgeting with his hat as he maintained his gaze.
The crowd started to shift, their smiles intensifying the ache in Grace's chest. Across the way, she spotted Cole walking towards them, a grin on his face.
It felt like a rush of air hit her all at once.
Her knees gave way ever so slightly, her lungs overfilled, and with a shaky breath, she swiftly turned around and ran.
Alex's voice echoed in the air, but just as fast as it came, the wind swept it away, leaving Grace to herself.
She navigated between stands and walking people, her face running hot, and her vision growing cloudy, masked with a warm liquid.
