Love, After Dark

Chapter 39

SIRI

“What the hell was that?” Nala’s voice snapped me out of the stunned haze I’d been standing in since Brice bolted out of the auditorium like it was on fire. “I…” I blinked. “I don’t know.” She stared toward the doors he’d disappeared through. “He thinks he can just grab your wrist that way and then run off like you did something to him? Who does that?” I shook my head slowly. “I’m not sure.” Because I wasn’t. One second we were eating sandwiches. The next, he was breathing like he’d run a marathon and looking at me like I’d done something terrible.

Nala crossed her arms. “He’s weird. Actually, scratch that. He’s an ass!” I flinched slightly. She caught it and her glare softened. “Hey,” she said more gently. “Are you okay?” I forced a small shrug. “Yeah. I’m fine.” I replied, knowing inside I wasn’t fine at all. There was this dull ache sitting in the center of my chest. Not sharp. Not dramatic. Just… heavy. And I didn’t understand why. It’s not like we were close. We’d barely had an actual conversation all day. So why did it feel like I’d been rejected?

Before Nala could say anything else, Mrs. Parks swept back into the auditorium, clapping her hands for attention. “Alright, artists!” she called. “I’m terribly sorry, but I have a family matter I must attend to. We’ll be ending our first Saturday a bit earlier than intended.” A small cheer rippled through the room. She held up a finger. “Don’t get used to it. I expect you all here the full six hours for the remainder of this production.” Groans replaced the cheers. “Clean your stations and you’re dismissed.” Nala and I packed up our supplies, tossing drying leaves into the proper bins before heading out together.

The afternoon sun was brighter than I expected, almost blinding after the dim auditorium. We made small talk as we walked toward the parking lot—about the leaves, about Mrs. Parks’ dramatic flair, about how good the sandwiches were. But my mind kept replaying the same moment. The way his breathing had changed. The way he’d grabbed my wrist. The way he’d looked at me like I was something dangerous. “Text me when you get home,” Nala said once we reached the row where our cars were parked. “I will.” She gave me a pointed look. “And don’t overthink it.” Too late. She headed in the opposite direction. I walked the rest of the way alone. That’s when I noticed someone leaning against the car parked beside mine.

“What’s up, chica?” Keisha called out with a grin. I couldn’t help but smile back. “Hey.” Seeing her did lift my mood a little. But apparently not enough. Because her smile faded almost instantly. “Okay. What’s wrong?” I sighed. “Is it that obvious?” “Yes.” So I told her. About the morning. About him asking to talk. About the constant interruptions. About lunch. About… the way he reacted when I touched him.

By the time I finished, Keisha looked ready to commit a felony. “I told you to stay away from him!” she snapped, catching me by surprise. I flinched again. Her expression immediately softened. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean it like that.” She pushed off her car and stepped closer. “It’s just… that group? They’re not nice people. And his girlfriend is the worst.” Girlfriend. The word twisted in my stomach. “Don’t make yourself an even bigger target for her, Siri,” she said gently. I swallowed. “It’s fine,” I forced out. “I don’t even want to talk to him again.” The words hurt more than they should have.

We both leaned against our cars, the late afternoon breeze rustling through the lot. “You got plans tonight?” Keisha asked. “Yeah,” I deadpanned. “Laying in my bed watching reruns of Friends.” She laughed. “I’m grounded,” I added. Keisha tilted her head thoughtfully. “So tell your mom we have to study tonight.” I snorted. “She’ll never buy that.” She gave me a look. A dangerous one.

“Fine,” I muttered, pulling out my phone. I typed quickly: Just found out we have a test Monday morning. Keisha and I need to study tonight. I stared at the screen. Three dots appeared Disappeared. Reappeared. My heart thudded nervously as my mom typed. Her response finally came through: Okay. Be home by ten. I blinked. “She bought it,” I said, shocked. Keisha grinned like she’d just won the lottery. “Great. Follow me.” She hopped into her car without another word.

I slid into mine, tossing my bag into the passenger seat. For a second, I just sat there. The ache in my chest was still there. But it was duller now. Manageable. I started the engine and pulled out behind Keisha, telling myself I wasn’t thinking about the way Brice had looked at me. Or the way it had felt when he held my wrist. Or how much I wished I understood why.