The house was quiet by nine-thirty. Mom had fussed over me for hours after Xander left—ice packs, painkillers, endless questions about the “accident” during handball. Dad had come home early from work, his face stormy when he saw my bandaged nose. I reassured them both it wasn’t serious, but the throbbing ache behind my eyes told a different story.
I lay in bed now, propped up against pillows, scrolling aimlessly through my phone. The painkillers had dulled the sharp sting into a heavy throb, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw Ashley’s satisfied smirk and heard the sickening crunch again.
A soft tap came at my window.
My heart jumped. I sat up slowly, wincing as the movement pulled at my face. The curtains were partially open, and there he was—Xander, balanced effortlessly on the na
