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“Yeah…” Her voice was too low, even for her, as she held out the bottom of her ruined shirt. “I can put my gym uniform on.” She didn’t seem to be excited about the idea—and I couldn’t blame her. Those clothes were far more revealing than what she was currently wearing.
Although she’d never had any issue with it before.
I clenched my jaw. I couldn’t push her, right?
“I’ll bring you mine,” I told her. The boys had a more casual uniform, and while it would be too big, it would work. She glanced up at me, and the relief in her eyes filled me with guilt. “Wait here.”
Maybe she really was okay.
Maybe I was imagining that something was even wrong. I always found reading people to be difficult—especially when I was extremely stressed. The only exception to that, in my entire life, had been Bianca.
But maybe I didn’t know her as well as I thought.
It took less than a minute for me to grab the clothes and return, but it’d been long enough. I opened the door, and Bianca’s relaxed features had fallen. She was studying some point on the wall across the hallway, and her eyes shadowed in a sadness I hadn’t seen in many years.
What was I supposed to do? I thought…
I cleared my throat. She snapped to attention, looking at me as her mouth curled in a weak grin. “Bianca, are you sure—”
“Thanks!” She pulled the bundle of clothes from me and stepped back. “I-I’ll get changed now.”
I frowned at her. She wasn’t fine at all. But I couldn’t pinpoint how. The harder I tried, the further away she felt.
I was sinking as a familiar frustration choked at me, and my panic rose. “Right.” My voice came out harsher than expected. My skin was growing tight, and my thoughts were spiraling.
I needed a minute.
“Get changed,” I told her, backing away. I couldn’t take out my frustrations on her, it wasn’t fair.
But I didn’t know what to do.
I left her as I retreated into the safety of the empty locker room. I felt like I was a little kid again, and everything was too big, too much.
I could do this. I had to come up with a plan, but I couldn’t focus.
I didn’t know the right thing to do.
I fell against one of the benches and before I sat, pressing my hands against my forehead as I fought the urge to scream.
I wanted to shake her until she told me everything—or maybe even just drag her to Kayla. Kayla could look into her memories and tell me what happened. Then I’d be able to deal with Adrian accordingly.
But that didn’t feel right either.
I could drag Adrian to Kayla.
I’d thrown my bag onto the floor in my haste to give Bianca a change of clothes, and the sound of an incoming text pulled my attention.
I didn’t know who could help.
Damen.
A chill shot down my spine at the answer. I could call Damen.
He would know how to make everything better.
The phone was already to my ear before I could second-guess myself, and he picked up after one ring.
“Finn!” Damen sounded surprised, and happy, that I called, and I could just picture his sappy grinning expression. Usually even the visual annoyed me, but right now it felt like a blanket over my nerves. “What can I—”
