Page 57 of Freestyle
You made him angry, and now he’s back.
“Oh, by the way,” she says casually, “I had a visit from Gray and Nix. You forgot to mention the part where you slept with them!”
My whole body locks up.
The room, which had just started to feel safe again, shrinks two sizes too small.
She glances up when I don’t answer. “Seriously, Row? You usually at least warn me when testosterone overload is going to invade our hallway.”
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I admit, feeling my cheeks flush. “I was going to tell you. I’m so sorry.”
Lynds sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m not judging you, Row. I just don’t want you getting hurt, especially not by two guys who’ve turned heartbreak into a sport.”
I flinch. “They’re not like that anymore.”
“Oh? So the campus legends who made their way through half the track team last year suddenly caught feelings?” She laughs once, humorless. “Forgive me if I don’t throw confetti.”
Lynds seems to consider her words for a moment. “You know Gray is bi, right? That opens up the entire school for him to pick from. He’s never slept with the same person twice.” Well, they have with me.Does that mean I’m different? Or just a cruel game?
“They seem different with me,” I admit.
She pauses, watching me carefully now. “And what happens when they’re not? When it stops being protection and starts feeling like possession?”
I don’t have an answer.
I wish I did.
“I just need you to promise me one thing,” Lynds says, voice soft but firm. “Don’t fall so hard into the idea of being safe that you forget who you’re letting hold the keys.”
I shut the door behind her and lean against it, the silence in the room humming around me like it’s trying to fill the space where her voice just was.
“Don’t fall so hard into the idea of being safe that you forget who you’re letting hold the keys.”
She meant it to protect me. To make me think.
But all it does is split me open.
Because the truth is I don’t know who I trust anymore. Gray and Nix look at me like I’m fire and ruin and salvation all wrapped into one fragile body. They protect me, yes. Guard me like I’m sacred.
But I also remember how they used to look through me.
How easy it was for them to break what they didn’t bother to understand.
People say obsession feels like devotion when you’re the one being watched. But I’ve learned the hard way—it can also feel like a cage with velvet walls.
I curl onto the edge of my bed, stare up at the ceiling, and let the memories crawl under my skin. I never know if I’m nervous because I want them close…
Or because I’m afraid of what I’ll let them take next.
If I give in fully, completely,what’s left of me that’sjust mine?
Lynds isn’t wrong, but she’s not right either.
Because it’s not about whether they’ll hurt me.
It’s about whether I’llletthem.
Ten
