Sheila’s POV
The air between us still feels heavy, like it hasn’t cleared since he left. My back’s against the wall, my fingers tight around the strap of my bag. I can still smell him. I can still feel how close he was, how his voice slid under my skin like it belonged there.
The hallway is almost empty now. The only sound is the hum of the light above me and my own heartbeat that won’t slow down. My legs are weak, but I force myself to move. I grab my things from the floor, shove them into my bag, and pretend I’m fine.
When I push out through the doors, the air hits cold and clean. It doesn’t help. It only makes it worse. I breathe in too deeply and it burns a little, like my body’s still trying to come down from something it doesn’t understand.
My phone buzzes.
It’s him.
Brendan: Y
