Kyler stood there, alone now. No Savannah. No cameras. Just him, still in his dirty jersey, a streak of eye black smeared across his cheek.
“Hey,” Mia said.
“The party’s still going,” she said quietly. it's us tonight kyler quinn
That was it. Not an invitation. Not come with us . A dismissal wrapped in a promise.
“Let her look.”
Kyler flinched like she’d thrown a block. He stared at the ground, then back at her. Slowly, he pulled his phone from his back pocket. He unlocked it, scrolled to their thread, and held it up so she could see.
It’s us. Full stop.
“Because we don’t exist out there, Kyler. We exist in the dark. In secret texts. In parking lots after everyone’s gone home.” She laughed, but it came out wet. “I’m tired of being your ‘tonight.’ I want to be your ‘right now.’”