NOLA
The fluorescent lights of the office hum above me, a sharp contrast to the dull ache behind my eyes. I haven’t looked at my computer screen in twenty minutes. Instead, I’m watching the clock, counting the seconds until I can officially say I’m not going home.
"He won’t even notice," I mutter, though my friend Sarah is giving me that look—the one that says she knows I’m lying to myself.
"Nola, he's your dads friend " Sarah says, leaning against my desk with a concerned frown. "His whole thing is noticing. If you stay at my place tonight without telling him, he’s going to lose it."
"Let him," I snap, my chest tightening as I think of her. The new girl. The one who moved into Rhett’s house—our house—and started taking up the space I’ve spent months carving out for myself. "He has his
