Neil clappeda hand on my shoulder as he took my leather jacket. His grin was casual, but I could feel his curious eyes on me.
“She’s upstairs,” he said, like it wasn’t the only reason I was here.
“Yeah?” I tried to play it cool, shoving my hands into my pockets. “She doing okay?”
“Bronchitis knocked her out for a bit, but she’s better now. Want to hang out in my room?”
I nodded, my stomach tightening. Presley hadn’t answered my texts or calls in two weeks, and now that I was here, I wasn’t sure what the hell I’d say.
Neil tugged at my sleeve, leading me upstairs. I trailed behind, trying not to glance at the closed door I knew was hers. Movement inside caught my attention. My steps faltered, but Neil was already pulling me into his room.
He launched into a rant about a racing game, flopping into his chair and booting up the computer. His fingers moved over the keyboard, completely absorbed, while I sat stiffly on the edge of his bed. Comics were scattered across the floor, and I flipped through one aimlessly.
My mind wasn’t on superheroes. It was on the girl in the next room.
Neil didn’t notice when I stood, easing his door closed behind me. The hallway felt impossibly silent as I stared at Presley’s door. My pulse drummed in my ears as I turned the knob and stepped inside without knocking.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her head in her hands, a green notebook lying open beside her. Her head snapped up, and her eyes—stormy and unreadable—locked onto mine.
“What are you doing here?” she hissed, scrambling to close the notebook.
“No fucking way,” I said, my voice low but firm. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. We’re done playing this game.”
Her hand clenched around the notebook as she swallowed hard. “Hudson, just leave.”
I stepped closer, my heart pounding. “What’s in there? Is that it? Did you find it?” My voice held a flicker of hope.
“No. It’s not what you think,” she stammered.
I frowned, closing the distance between us in two strides. Before she could stop me, I grabbed the notebook from her hands.
“Hudson, don’t!” She lunged for it, but I turned my back, holding it out of her reach.
“Why are you freaking out?” I growled, flipping it open.
“Give it back!” Her voice cracked with panic as she clawed at my arm.
The first page caught my attention. It wasn’t about Evan or his friends. It wasn’t even Presley’s handwriting.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, holding it higher as she tried to grab it.
“It’s Mrs. Braddock’s,” she blurted. Her face flushed as she stopped struggling.
I froze. “What?”
“She’s been having an affair. It’s all in there.” Presley slumped back onto the bed, defeated.
I lowered the notebook, my brows knitting together. “So what? Her dirty laundry doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me.”
She exhaled sharply, pulling the notebook from my hands and tossing it onto the bed. “It’s not about you, Hudson. This whole thing—it’s just gross. It’s her business, not ours.”
I could see it in her eyes. There was more she wasn’t saying.
“You’re lying,” I said softly, sitting beside her. “What aren’t you telling me, Presley?”
Her jaw tightened as she stood and began pacing. “You don’t get it. I’ve been trying to make this work, but we’re no good for each other.”
“Bullshit,” I shot back, rising to meet her glare. “You’re scared, and I want the truth. You owe me that.”