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I have been running.

Haven’t stopped since Jesse pulled me out of Lake Belmont a year ago. Call it a defense mechanism or a bad case of denial, but I couldn’t cope with my entire life being a lie on top of almost losing my life. The concussion, the family drama, the accident. It was too much all at once, and I protected myself the only way that I could. By closing myself off to everything and everyone.

Suddenly, there was no pain, no regret, no resentment.

Just a girl going through life on autopilot.

“Give me five minutes. Just five. I need to ask you something, and then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

I blow out a breath. “Fine.”

His shoulders fall with relief.

“Should we talk inside?” Jesse gestures to my dorm with his chin.

At the exact same time, deafening music erupts on the other side of my door, the powerful bass making the walls shake.

Yep, Grace is home.

I can’t even hear myself think with that music, let alone have a conversation.

“Not here. Let’s go for a walk,” I suggest, and Jesse gestures to lead the way. We walk around campus for a few never-ending minutes before Jesse breaks the silence.

“So… social work, huh?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He fishes for conversation. “Do you like it?”

If it were anybody else asking, I’d jump at the chance to tell them how passionate I am about my degree. I’d say that I’ve found my calling. That I look forward to spending the rest of my life helping people, but since it’s Jesse, I give him the bare minimum and nod.

“Great,” he replies.

Silence envelops us, and I gladly let the conversation wither away.

“How’s your head?” Jesse speaks again. “Your concussion, I mean?”

“Much better.” I crack an uncomfortable smile.

“Glad to hear it.”

I assume he’s going to leave it at that until he adds, “I swear to God, if that Finn motherfucker ever shows his face again, he’s dead.”

I immediately stop walking, every muscle in my body becoming tense. Jesse notices and slows down, glancing back at me with a smidge of confusion in his eyes.

“What?” Jesse asks.

“Don’t say that name.” It comes out as a warning.

Maybe even a threat.

Everybody in my life knows better than to bring up that bastard’s name, but Jesse hasn’t been around in a hot minute. It should come as no surprise that he doesn’t know about my rules, but it still feels like a violation.

“I’m serious, Jesse. If you ever say that name again—”

“Relax, I won’t.” Jesse holds his hands up, the confusion in his eyes morphing into worry. I know that look. It’s the same look everyone’s been giving me for a year.

Aveena? Worried.


Tags: Eliah Greenwood Easton High Romance