5
Tessa.
The house feels empty in a way that should be peaceful, but it isn’t. It’s Friday night and Mom’s voice still rings in my ears—her cheerful “We’ll be back late! Don’t wait up!” as she bustled out the door with my stepdad for their first real date night in months. I should be glad for the space, but all I can think about is the silence. And Liam.
Every time we’re left alone, something happens. Some new line gets crossed, some new part of myself I didn’t know I had gets exposed and claimed. I tell myself I’m not going to let it happen again. I tell myself I’ll stay in my room, keep my distance, be good for once.
But my heart doesn’t believe me. And neither does my body.
I’m in my room, half-heartedly scrolling through old photos, pretending I’m not waiting for footsteps in the
