[BOOK2]
Friendship built their world. Love will break it open. ❤️
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lo...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I made it halfway down the hallway before my body finally gave out.
My legs just... stopped working.
Becca's fingers were wrapped around my wrist, pulling me with purpose, her voice a murmur against the chaos still echoing behind us. But the second the music faded and the courtyard swallowed us whole, the reality crashed down like a collapsing ceiling.
Theo dropped to his knees.
He dropped to his fucking knees.
And I kept walking.
My knees buckled, and I hit the wall, gasping like I'd been punched in the chest. My vision blurred. Not from the tears I refused to let fall in front of him—but from the sheer, unbearable weight of what I'd just done.
Becca caught me before I collapsed.
Her arms came around me, grounding, warm, shaking just like I was. She cradled my head against her shoulder and whispered over and over, "I got you. I got you. I got you."
But she couldn't.
Because no one could.
Because I'd just shattered the only boy who ever looked at me like I was magic, and the worst part? He still looked at me like that, even as I destroyed him.
"I hate this," I choked out, my voice shredded beyond recognition. "I hate this, Becs."
She pulled me tighter, holding me like she could glue the broken pieces back together. "I know, baby girl. I know. I got you. You're not alone."
But I felt alone.
I felt like a storm dressed in a girl's body. Like regret had made a home inside my bones.
The moment I said "yes" to his question—Am I disposable?—was the moment I stopped being human. I became the blade. The villain. The reason the light in his eyes went out.
The look in his eyes when I said it—I'd never forget it. Like I'd taken a blade to his chest and twisted it.
And still, I didn't stop walking.
I said things I didn't mean just to make him walk away.
But he didn't.
He fell to his knees.
And I kept walking.
We didn't even make it halfway across the courtyard when the slow, mocking clap cut through the silence.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
"Bravo," Peyton drawled, voice thick with fake sweetness and venom beneath. "Seriously, Isla. That was iconic."
