CALLUM
I sat at the kitchen counter, pushing my spoon through the soggy remains of my cereal. The repetitive motion did nothing to quiet the thoughts turning over in my head. I'd been cold to Lila this morning—too cold, probably. I could still see her face, the hurt flickering across it before she looked away. The confusion. It felt like I was constantly pushing her away when all I wanted was to pull her closer. But that wasn't an option.
The sound of footsteps broke through my thoughts. I didn't need to look up to know who it was.
"Late for school?" my mother asked, her voice smooth and calm, as if nothing had happened.
I didn't pause as I took another bite, the cereal now tasteless mush. "What does it matter?" I muttered. "At the end of the day, none of this matters. School, grades
