By the time sunlight stretched through my curtains, I felt wrung out. Heavy. Uneasy.
Taylor was already awake, sitting at the edge of my bed tying his shoelaces. He looked up when I stirred.
“Good morning,” he said, voice still soft with sleep.
“Morning,” I murmured, pushing myself upright.
He scanned my face for a second. “Better today?”
“Trying.”
“Good enough,” he said, standing. “Come on. If we leave now, we won’t have to sprint to homeroom like lunatics.”
I laughed under my breath and dragged myself to get ready. The routine helped. Brush teeth. Wash face. Pull on jeans and a sweater. Tie my hair. Pretend I wasn’t avoiding thinking about a man with eyes that made me forget myself for one reckless second.
By the time we stepped outside, the air was crisp, cool enough that I coul
