Page 96 of Ripple Effect

When we ate our pie later that night, alone together in her childhood bedroom, I did my best to cheer her up, to make her feel a little bit more like herself.

All in all, it was a far cry from the holidays I’m used to spending with my own family. The six of us siblings would parade around the table, laughing and eating until we couldn’t move, sharing stories and memories from the past year. But this was just ... lonely.

Daisy’s family seemed to be more comfortable in their own silence, and I found it difficult to connect with them on any level.

And now, the morning after, Daisy’s finally decided she wants to cut her visit short.

I’m all for it since this trip has been nothing but draining for both of us. It’s been heartbreaking to see the light sapped out of my favorite person’s eyes, and I’d rather not spend another three days suffering through it.

Once we’re all packed up, Daisy says goodbye to her parents, reminding them she won’t be home for Christmas. Of course, they don’t seem disconcerted about her absence.

So, we grab a bite to eat by ourselves and then take a long detour home to pick up Bentley. Once he’s safe and secure in the back seat, the hour-long drive back to campus is nothing but a soothing blur, filled with the comforting hum of the road and the soft music Daisy picks out.

There’s an unspoken sense of relief brewing between us now, a mutual understanding that we’re heading back to friendly territory. Back to our own little world. And by the time the familiar campus buildings come into view, the tension from the past few days is like a distant memory.

* * *

Later that evening,the lifelike sound effects of Surf Pro fill my apartment. Daisy’s fingers dance over the console, a glee-filled smile plastered on her face. She’s completely at home here, and it’s good to see her like this again—so happy and full of life.

She told me she doesn’t want to talk about what happened anymore, so we’re finding new ways to occupy our time. We’ve been playing this game for the last half hour now, riding digital waves and consistently wiping out.

Well, at least that’s true on my account.

Every now and then, she glances over at me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Lean into the wave more,” she advises with a grin, executing a perfect spin on her board.

Trying to mimic her, my character bails into the water for the tenth fucking time in a row. I chuckle, setting the controller down. “Okay, I officially need a break. My guy has drowned too many times.”

Her laughter fills the room. “Sorry you can’t keep up.”

I smile, making my way to the couch and sinking down into my seat. My heart rate’s been kicking up anyway, and I need to rest before I trigger something catastrophic.

Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake?

Local man life flighted due to excessive video game play. The perfect ending to this shitty week.

I grab my phone and quickly scroll through my emails, relieved to find the message I’ve been waiting for. The subject line reads: “Further Submission Required—Echo.”

“Hey, Daze?” I start, slightly hesitant. “You remember that audio gig I told you about? They’ve finally replied to my application.”

She pauses the game and turns toward me, eyes shining with curiosity. “Oh? What did they say?”

I show her the email, gnawing at my bottom lip. “They want a few more clips. Audio only. I think I need to show more versatility. Most of my AfterDark content is . . . visually centric. This needs more vocalizing, maybe even a bit more scripting.”

Raising a brow, she says, “Well, I’m sure you can manage that.”

“Look, I know this was supposed to be our weekend. And after everything with your family, your old friends . . . I don’t want to ruin it. But I was hoping to get these clips done soon. Secure this job, and then start the transition from AfterDark.”

“No, I totally understand. How much time do you need, exactly?”

Relief washes over me. “I promise it’ll just be a few hours. You can keep playing or just chill here. I’ll . . . retreat to my room, get into the zone.”

“Can I help?”

“Help, how?”

She drops the controller and moves closer, her voice dipping to a soft whisper. “Maybe I can ... inspire you.”

My pulse jumps in my throat. “Inspire me, huh?”

---