I was staring at the ceiling when the phone rang.
Not the productive kind of staring – not thinking, not processing, not arriving at conclusions. The empty kind. The kind you do when you've had a fight with someone you love and you can't figure out if you were brave or cruel and the ceiling doesn't have answers but at least it doesn't argue back.
Sienna was at Cole's. The dorm was dark. I'd been lying there for two hours replaying the parking lot – the door that didn't open, the footsteps that didn't come, the silence that could have been respect or rupture and I still couldn't tell which.
My phone lit up on the nightstand. Not Rhys.
Caleb Park.
I stared at the name. My thumb hovering between answer and decline, my body caught in the no-man's-land between the girl who'd sworn she was
