Chapter 16
By the time the final bell rang and I trudged out of school, I was done. Not just regular, I–had–a–long–day done, but completely fried and ready to crawl into a hole for eternity done.
Tess, of course, was still buzzing beside me, chatting about some new pop–up cafe she wanted to check out. “They do, like, custom latte art,” she said, waving her hands excitedly. “You can bring in a picture, and they’ll recreate it in the foam. Isn’t that so cool?”
“Mmm,” I mumbled, not really listening. My brain was too busy running laps over everything that had happened today. Ethan in every class. Ethan in art. Ethan disappearing like some kind of magician.
And the look Tess gave me when I pointed out that empty seat? I didn’t even want to think about it.
“You okay?” Tess asked, nudging me.
“Yeah, just tired,” I lied, forcing a half–smile. “Long day.”
She nodded, thankfully dropping the subject, and we parted ways at the parking lot. Tess hopped into her sleek little car–seriously, why did everyone I know drive nice cars except me?—and waved before speeding off.
1, on the other hand, had to catch the bus. Or walk. Either way, I wasn’t looking forward to it.
The air was crisp as I made my way down the street, the faint scent of autumn leaves and someone grilling wafting through the breeze. It was the kind of weather that made you want to curl up with a blanket and a hot drink. But I wasn’t in the mood for cozy. I was too wound up.
The bus ride home was uneventful, thank God. No Ethan sightings, no weird vibes. Just me, my earbuds, and some angsty music that matched my mood perfectly.
The sun was already setting by the time I arrived, painting the mansion in hues of orange and gold. The place looked serene from the outside, but inside, it felt suffocating. Every step I took through the front door felt heavy, like the weight of everything waiting for me inside was dragging me down.
And, to top everything up, the first person I saw was Greg.
He was sitting in the living room, scrolling through his phone. His shirt was perfectly pressed, his smile ready to disarm anyone who walked in.
“Hey, Camila,” he said, looking up with that casual friendliness he always wore like a second skin.
“Hi,” I muttered, forcing a tight smile.
“Your mom’s upstairs,” he said, motioning lazily toward the staircase. “She’s been on her feet all day–something about cake tastings and flower arrangements. You know how she gets.”
“Yeah,” I said, trying to edge toward the stairs without making it obvious.
“You just get back from school?” he asked, leaning forward like he genuinely cared about my answer.
“Uh–huh,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
“Long day?”
“Something like that.”
Greg gave a small chuckle, like we were sharing some kind of inside joke. “Well, enjoy school while you can. Real life’s a lot harder.”
I clenched my jaw. He always said stuff like that, these little nuggets of wisdom no one asked for.
“Thanks for the advice,” I said, my voice dripping with just enough sarcasm to get my point across.
He either didn’t notice or pretended not to, which was even more annoying. “Oh, by the way, no karaoke today? Your mom mentioned it. Said you had fun.”
I froze, caught off guard. “She told you that?”
“Of course. She was excited to see you doing something different,” he said with a smile, like he thought he was some kind of supportive stepdad already.
I swallowed the irritation bubbling in my throat. “It was just a one–time thing.”
“Well, it’s good to see you stepping out of your shell a little,” he said with a nod, like he was proud of me or something.
I stared at him for a moment, my hand tightening around the strap of my bag. Greg had always been polite, nice even, but that was the problem. He was too nice, too perfect, like he was trying to fill a role he had no business playing.
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3.34 PM
Chapter 16
“Right,” I said stiffly. “Well, I should go check on my mom.”
“Of course,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Tell her not to overdo it. She’s been running herself ragged.”
“Will do,” I muttered, already heading for the stairs.
I didn’t bother glancing back at him. I didn’t need to. His presence lingered, like an unwelcome shadow, following me up each step.
*
When I got to my room, I closed the door and leaned against it, exhaling sharply. My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag before I tossed it onto the bed.
Greg. Always Greg. Always smiling, always there, like some immovable force in my life now.
I changed into something comfortable and flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. My mom was upstairs, no doubt poring over wedding details, and Greg was downstairs, probably thinking about how to be even more annoyingly perfect tomorrow.
And me? I was stuck in between, surviving his insane son and just trying to make sense of this new life that felt less like mine every day.
With a sigh, I reached for my phone. Distraction was the only thing that seemed to work these days.
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