I duck into a store, fingers brushing over the soft fabric of a sweater, needing something—anything—to pull me backto reality. I can’t do this. I’ve walked this road before, thinking I could be happy, and I know exactly where it leads—straight to heartbreak.
“Earth to Madison!” A familiar voice cuts through my thoughts, and I turn just as Lyla bounds over, curls bouncing. She’s grinning, but her sharp gaze scans my face like she already knows I’m unraveling.
“I’ve been calling your name for, like, a full minute,” she says. “What’s got you so spaced out?”
I force a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as brittle as it feels. “Just thinking about that music theory test next week. You know how Professor Harris loves to torture us.”
Lyla lifts a single, unimpressed brow. “Uh-huh. I’m sure it has nothing to do with a certain tall, dark, and deliciously attractive football player.”
“Shut up,” I groan, but my voice lacks conviction.
She loops her arm through mine as we start walking again. “Come on, Maddy. I know you better than that.”
I sigh, the familiar tightness creeping into my chest. “It’s…difficult, Ly.” My voice is quieter now, the weight of those words heavier than I want to admit. “You know I don’t do relationships, especially romantic ones where someone will inevitably get hurt.”
Lyla’s teasing expression softens. “I know. But maybe it’s time to give it a chance? Jaxon’s not just some guy. You two have a lot of history.”
“That’s exactly the problem,” I murmur, bitterness coating my tongue. “And who’s to say he came here for that? What if he just wanted a fresh start somewhere new?”
“And downgraded to a smaller school, a team that isn’t as good, and decided to do so the night before the transfer portal closed? Yeah, definitely seems like something a “friend” would totally do.” She rolls her eyes, taking a moment to check out the shorts in front of her.
Memories flicker in the back of my mind—the hollow sound of my father’s rage, my mother’s quiet resignation, the way lovealways seemed like something meant to hurt. I swallow hard and shove it all down, where it belongs.
“Can we not talk about this?” I ask, hating the way my voice shakes.
Lyla watches me for a moment before squeezing my arm. “Okay. No boy talk. But at least let me help you find a killer outfit for the game.”
I roll my eyes, grateful for the out. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“That’s why you love me,” she chirps, already dragging me toward another store.
I let her pull me along, pretending shopping is the only thing on my mind. But no matter how many racks of clothes I sift through, no matter how much I try to distract myself, the truth lingers like a shadow at the edge of my thoughts.
And for the first time in years, a tiny part of me wants to let myself feel it.
"What about this one?" I hold up a midnight blue dress, more to distract myself than out of genuine interest.
Lyla's eyes light up. "Oh, girl, that's gorgeous! You'd look amazing in that."
I snort, my default sarcasm kicking in. "Yeah, if I wanted to look like I'm trying too hard."
Lyla gives me a pointed look. "Come on, Madison. You'd turn heads in that dress. Especially Jaxon's."
At the mention of his name, my heart does a traitorous little flip. I busy myself with putting the dress back, hoping Lyla doesn't notice the flush creeping up my neck.
"Look, I know we said no boy talk, but," Lyla says, her tone casual but her eyes sharp, "you sure nothing ever happened between you two? He seems pretty determined for a guy who was never thrown a bone, ya know.”
I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. "It's complicated, Ly."
"Isn't it always?" She raises an eyebrow, waiting.
I take a deep breath, knowing I can't dodge this conversation forever. "We were...close. Really close. But we never crossed that line."
"Why not?"
Images flash through my mind—stolen glances, lingering touches, moments when the air between us felt electric. "I was too scared," I admit quietly. "Every time I felt myself falling, I pulled back."
Lyla's expression softens. "Oh, Maddy."
