Page 109 of Trick or Treat Nurse at My Feet
"Good," Drew says, satisfied. "Now, let's talk assignments. Tyler, you and Gavin will handle the sign-up table..."
As he continues outlining the plan, my thoughts drift to Ethan. Where is he right now? Is he as miserable as I am? Does he miss me at all, or has he already started the process of erasing me from his life?
Saturday suddenly feels a million miles away, and any hope of making up with Ethan seems even more impossible.
Chapter 27
The Unmasking: A Nutcracker Story
ETHAN
The apartment is small but neat, with clean, simple decor that makes it seem bigger. A gray couch takes up most of the living room, facing a flat TV on the wall. The kitchen's just on the other side of a counter with three stools. Nothing special, but it's a safe place right now, somewhere we can hide from everyone.
"You're sure Blake doesn't mind us crashing here?" Sylas at me blinks as I ask for the third time since we arrived yesterday.
"For the last time, yes," Sylas rolls his eyes and goes back to scrolling through takeout options on his phone. "Blake and I have an understanding. We hook up when we're both free, no strings attached, and occasionally crash at each other's places. He's cool."
Nodding I sink deeper into the couch. It's been two days since my very public breakup with Tyler, and I still feel raw, like someone has taken a cheese grater to my emotions. The first night, I barely slept, replaying those photos in my mind on an endless loop. Tyler and Cher.Tyler betraying me while I stood in the same picture, oblivious.
"Thai or Indian?" Sylas asks, interrupting my spiral.
"Whatever," though food sounds about as appealing as cardboard right now.
He sighs, setting down his phone. "Ethan, you need to eat. We're getting Thai. The spicier the better."
As he places the order, a tall guy with short dark hair emerges from the bedroom, rolling a small suitcase behind him. Blake, Sylas's "understanding," is handsome in a conventional way, the kind of guy who probably played sports in high school but now works in finance or marketing.
"Alright, I'm heading out," he announces, checking his watch. "Flight's in three hours."
"Thanks again for letting us stay," I manage to say, holding myself together enough for basic manners.
Blake waves it off. "No problem. Mi casa es su casa. Stay as long as you need." He turns to Sylas. "I'll be back next Friday. Text me if you need anything."
They share a brief kiss that feels neither passionate nor perfunctory, just comfortable. I look away, a pang of envy hitting me unexpectedly. Not because I want what they have, but because even their casual arrangement seems more honest than what I thought I had with Tyler.
After Blake leaves, Sylas rejoins me on the couch. "The food will be here in forty minutes."
"Great," I reply without enthusiasm.
"You know," he says carefully, "we have to go back to campus tomorrow. We both have labs we can't miss."
Groaning I pull a throw pillow over my face. "Don't remind me."
"It won't be that bad. Most people will have moved on to new gossip by now."
I lower the pillow, giving him a skeptical look. "A video of me publicly breaking up with the Vice President of Delta Psi Omega? Calling him a liar and a cheater in front of half the Greek system? Somehow, I doubt that's old news yet."
"Okay, fair," Sylas admits. "But you still have to go to class."
I know he's right. Hiding in Blake's apartment feels safer, but it's not a permanent solution. Eventually, I'll have to face the reality of a campus where everyone knows my business, where I might run into Tyler or Cher around any corner.
"Fine," I concede. "But if one person gives me a pitying look, I'm coming back here and not leaving until graduation."
Sylas snorts. "Drama queen."
"I've earned it," I retort, but there's no heat in my words. The truth is, I'm grateful for Sylas. He didn't say "I told you so" about Tyler, even though he had every right to. Instead, he pulled me into a hug when I knocked on his bedroom door, sobbing, then packed us both bags and brought me here where I could fall apart in private.
The food arrives. I have zero appetite, but focusing on the pad Thai and green curry gives me something to do besides feeling like crap. We eat without talking, with some sitcom on TV in the background that we're both ignoring.
