Even as I tried to distract myself with dancing with my friends, it was hard to shake the way Cole fled when the song was over. Riley’s group text only made me feel a little better. I snapped him when I got home, asking if Cole was okay. I didn’t get a response until morning. Riley sent back a black screen and the caption: yeah he just ate something that didn’t agree with him. I sent him another one saying I hoped he felt better soon.
In the days that followed, everything felt normal with Cole, so I convinced myself I was paranoid and overthinking. It was my anxiety.
Two days after the Poe’s incident, I found myself alone in the bushes with Cole after work. We shared a couple of joints. “You know, I don’t know if it was the alcohol the other night or what,” I told him, while staring at
