Page 5 of Tag

Did that mean she wasit?

Was Ryder falling in love with Brooke?

I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or shove the thought out of my head before it could splinter me any further. I’d never asked these questions before. I kept how I felt to myself and hoped no one would notice. Something that had progressively gotten harder to do. Still, I was the architect of my own misery, so I forced it down like usual, buried it beneath the pressure in my chest, and then gave Brooke a smile, careful and practiced.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you specifically, Brooke. We just don’t really discuss that kind of stuff,” I explained, keeping my tone light as I opened my locker and grabbed a fresh change of clothes from my cheer bag.

The last thing I wanted was for her to feel bad, or worse, ask more questions. She nodded; her expression subdued. I took the opportunity to move this uncomfortable conversation along as I slipped on my bra and shirt. “So, do you two have any plans tonight?”

She seemed to brighten again at the question. “Nothing but the usual. I’m not sure what we’re doing for dinner yet, but do you want to come along?”

“No, I need some one-on-one time with Ash.”

Not entirely a lie.

I finished dressing and headed toward the sinks, where soft overhead lights glowed against sleek, silver-framed mirrors. Everything about the locker room radiated quiet power and luxury, Crowsfell’s signature etched into every surface, from the obsidian marble countertops to the barely noticeable emblemworked into the corners of the mirror trim: a crow perched over a skull, its wings outstretched.

I unzipped my toiletry bag and pulled out my wide-tooth comb, fingers moving through my familiar routine without much thought behind it. I stared at my reflection, trying to see myself through an objective lens.

Straight, ink-black hair that reached the center of my back, dark, round eyes with flecks of gold, and warm brown skin that was too rich to pass as solely Italian, too blended to be distinctly Indian. I’d never felt the need to fit neatly into either box. My family had always taught me to embrace both sides of who I was without choosing one over the other. As for my body, I wasn’t petite or delicate. My curves were toned, and my muscles were defined from years of cheer and training.

It was ridiculous to compare myself, completely insane, actually. I knew I was pretty. Not vainly or arrogantly, but in the quiet, hard-won way that comes from finally accepting the woman you’re becoming.

That hadn’t always been the case, especially when insecurity whispered the loudest, and I felt like I took up more space than I deserved. Sometimes, those whispers still came, and lately they liked to remind me that Brooke was everything I wasn’t. She was light and sweet and uncomplicated. Her only flaw, if you could call it that, was her being a littletoosweet for my best friend.

Most of his flings had been more assertive, if I were putting it nicely. Girls who took what they wanted and never asked for permission. I wasn’t particularly sweet either. I also wasn’t the take-what-I-want type. I hovered somewhere in the middle. I knew how to endure, but I had never known how to ask for more. I didn’t light up the room, but I was more than happy holding the door open for someone who did. At my best, I was a contradiction in motion. Messy but meticulous, endlesslythoughtful, calm, until I wasn’t, and overthinking wasn’t just a habit, but my favorite kind of self-sabotage.

Ryder had always known that about me. He saw everything and never once tried to make me someone else. I guess it was the same way I’d always seen him. To me, he wasn’t the golden boy everyone worshipped and placed on a pedestal. He was also the ruthless, calculating boy I’d always protected.

I loved both sides of him.

The one who offered salvation with nothing but a smile.

And the one who, if you weren’t careful, became the reason you needed saving in the first place.

“You sure you don’t want to join us for dinner tonight, or just to hang out?” Brooke asked again, her voice light, oblivious to the thoughts swirling inside my head.

“Ryder wouldn’t mind. You know how much he and the guys love having you around.”

Because they were mine first.

The thought was petty and childish. I knew that. People weren’t possessions or things to be claimed. But logic didn’t soothe the possessiveness curling sharply in my chest. My only consolation was knowing I wasn’t alone in feeling this way. We all held on a little too tight when it came to one another.

I forced another smile. "I’m sure."

“Alright, well, if you change your mind, let me know.”

She left after that, and I continued with what I was doing. I ran the comb through my hair slower this time, my grip tightening around the handle like it might hold me together because now I couldn’t stop thinking about how good she looked wearing nothing but his hoodie and a pair of sweats. I should’ve been happy for them. Ineededto be. Ryder deserved all the happiness in the world.

Of everyone I’d grown up with, he was the one who’d always mattered most. He was my person. From pacifiers andscraped knees to learning how to drive and surviving high school together. And now, college, where he was the star quarterback and I was his forever cheerleader.

I yanked the comb through a knot a little too hard and winced. I sighed and closed my eyes for a second. This had to stop at some point, right? There was no one I could talk to about it. Not even my girls, whom I loved and trusted with my life. I already knew what they’d say, and it would leave me with two choices—both equally soul-crushing for different reasons:

Pathetically pine from a distance, becoming one of those girls who stayed stuck on a guy she could never have and let life pass her by, being miserable because of it. Or sabotage his relationship and try to make him mine. Neither was a good look. Both sounded like a nightmare to me, honestly. Especially since we’d never even had a conversation about whatwewere. Oh, and because of the minor detail, I wasn’t single either. Obviously, the most logical thing to do was remain in denial. Eventually I’d climb my way out of this twisted little headspace, and everything would go back to normal. I had to believe that. I was the reason we’d ended up here in the first place, going back to the whole architect of my own misery thing.

I took one last glance at myself in the mirror, trying to look more composed than I felt. I wandered back over to the long bench in front of the lockers and sat. I waited for Roxxi and Layla to finish up, mindlessly scrolling through my phone. The locker room wasn’t that full anymore. Some of the girls had headed out right away, opting to shower at home. Those that remained were packing their bags, saying goodbye as they left, their laughter and chatter fading down the hall toward the exit.

It took another fifteen minutes for Roxxi to appear, and when she did, she was already dressed, her long red hair in a tidy bun atop her head, not a strand out of place. She walked over to our lockers and slipped into her sleek, leather fitted jacket andgrabbed her helmet and backpack. Layla joined us seconds later, her brown eyes scanning the room. Gone was the confident girl from moments ago. There was a slight fidget in her hands as she adjusted the strap of her canvas bag.

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