Page 123 of Bad Prince
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I told him to leave me alone.
And he did.
So why does that feel like loss?
Why does the absence already feel heavier than the chaos?
As I cross the quad, I see him in the distance.
On the far side.
Walking with Kane.
They’re talking about something — probably practice, probably plays.
He doesn’t look at me.
Not once.
He said he’d leave me alone.
And he meant it.
My chest tightens unexpectedly.
Because I didn’t want him to fight.
But I didn’t want him to disappear either.
What is wrong with me?
By lunch, the whispers have softened.
People move on fast.
New drama always comes.
But there’s a shift.
The spectacle cooled.
Because he cooled.
Because he respected it.
Because they both did.
And suddenly the triangle isn’t loud.
It’s quiet.
Which is more dangerous.
Because now?
Now it’s not public performance.
