ISABELLA
The movie playing on the screen wasn’t even that interesting.
It was one of those overly dramatic teen rom-coms with the cheesy dialogue and predictably perfect love triangles. I wasn’t watching it for the plot, though.
I just didn’t want to think.
Didn’t want to think about Killian, or the fact that Sarah had stood up for me more than he ever had. Didn’t want to think about Serena’s locker stunt, or that stupid party card in my bag, or the way Carter had made me feel seen in a way that wasn’t… complicated.
I just wanted silence in my brain for once.
So I sat there—curled up in the corner of the couch, with half a bowl of popcorn in my lap, wearing one of Daniels’ oversized hoodies that still smelled like his cologne and laundry detergent.
He had been out since forever. The
