A R I A
The walk back feels heavier than before, like the air itself is pressing down on me. I keep tugging at the sleeve of my jacket, pretending I'm just cold, but the truth is I'm fidgety and anxious and trying way too hard not to look like I'm spiralling.
Oliver glances at me from the corner of his eye, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie. "You good?" he asks, bumping his shoulder lightly into mine. "You're acting...weird."
I force a laugh that sounds more like a wheeze. "I'm fine," I say, which is obviously a lie because even my voice cracks a little.
Oliver slows his steps so he's walking right beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off him in the cool night air. "No, seriously, what's going on? You look like you just saw a ghost."
I suck in a s
