I avoided him for two days.
It was pathetic and necessary. I left class early. I answered his texts with one-word lies. I told Jenna I had a headache every time she tried to drag the dare back into conversation. None of it helped. I could still feel his mouth. I could still hear him saying he didn’t know how to pretend.
Sunday night he showed up at my door with takeout and the key I had given him years ago.
“You can’t ghost me,” he said, stepping inside like the apartment still belonged to both of us. “We don’t do that.”
“We also don’t make out in your car while you have a girlfriend.”
Noah set the bag on the counter. His jaw was tight. He looked tired in a way that had nothing to do with lack of sleep.
“I ended it.”
The words knocked the air out of me. “What?”
“This morning. With
