Jace's POV
I sat on the edge of my bed, phone in my hand but the screen dark, my mind still stuck on the way Ariana's voice had cracked when she snapped at me in the parking lot.
“I'm allowed to be tired, Jace.”
She hadn't meant it, I could tell that much just from her face right after she said it. But something had been off with her since we walked out of that restaurant, since before that even, and I couldn't shake the feeling I was missing something obvious.
Mike walked in without knocking, dropping his gym bag by the door before flopping down onto the other bed like he owned the place. He'd been doing that since freshman year, treating my room like a second home whenever something was on his mind.
"You've been staring at the floor for like five minutes," he said, propping himself
