ASHLEY
I blink too hard and the tears break. Hot, messy, traitorous. I wipe them with the heel of my palm like that’ll erase anything. Like that’ll make it easier to pretend I didn’t just witness the most humiliating thing I’ve ever felt.
God. I’m so f*****g stupid.
I shove past someone—maybe Ryan, maybe not—I don’t care. My legs move without checking in with my brain, and the rest of me scrambles to catch up. I duck my head. Push through bodies. I think I elbowed a girl with glitter on her cheeks. I think someone called my name again. I think Beckett shouted.
“Ash—!”
“Ashley, wait—!”
But the air is too thick, the noise too loud, and my heart is beating like it’s trying to punch through my ribs just to escape this moment. My skin feels too tight. My eyes sting. I bump into someone a
