Page 168 of Ruthless Court

“I know.”

“You could also go.”

“I know that too.”

Lila points toward the window.

“Stanford is playing tonight. He put you in the player section. This does not require forty-eight hours and a deep-cleaned radiator.”

“I’m not making a decision because he kissed me.”

“No,” she says. “You’re scrubbing grout because he kissed you.”

I throw the cleaning cloth at her.

She catches it and smiles.

By afternoon, I’ve reorganized my closet, updated the team roster, and watched enough film to decide Eli needs stronger ankles and Tyler needs to learn that passing is not a personal defeat.

I open the ticket page twice.

Close it twice.

Kane does not text again.

That bothers me more than another message would.

My phone buzzes while I’m sorting pencils by length.

I expect Eli.

Maybe Melissa.

Possibly Kane deciding patience no longer suits him.

The name on the screen stills my hand.

Dad: I haven’t heard from him since the fight in our kitchen.

The message is short.

Dad: Miss you.

I stare at the words until the screen begins to dim.

The anger is still there.

So is the memory of him holding my Stanford letter as if I had used it to betray him.

Underneath both sits something heavier.

I left.

He let me.

Neither of us knew how to speak after that.

My thumb moves before I decide what to say.