As if the walls are leaning in to hear what’s about to be said.
Luca stands in the middle, shifting his weight like he doesn’t know where to start.
“I, um, ” he exhales, running a hand through his hair. “I got an offer. From the Los Angeles Waves.”
No one makes a sound, although I’m convinced everyone can hear my heart beating like it’s my last day.
He looks up, eyes flicking between us. “They want me to join. In two weeks.”
My world stops spinning.
Two weeks.
America.
Dream team.
He’s leaving.
The rest of the group starts talking at once.
Every one of them is going on about how proud they are of him and how happy they are for him.
But I can’t hear any of it. My ears are ringing.
I look at him and smile, or at least I hope it’s a smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dreamer boy.”
He looks back at me, and I can swear something flickers in his eyes. But then it’s gone, replaced by that calm, practiced expression he wears when he doesn’t want anyone to see he’s hurting.
Without knowing it, that mask hurts me.
Because he’s not the mask type. At least he never was with me.
I was always the mess-up; he never needed to hide anything from me.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “It’s a big deal.”
I nod, pretending my throat isn’t closing up. “You deserve it.”
“Thanks, T.”
That shatters me.
***
Later, when everyone goes to celebrate with pizza and loud music, I slip away to Yana’s room.
She’s sitting cross-legged on her bed, scrolling through her phone.
When she looks at me, she puts her phone away and pats the bed. “You look messed up, Tilly. Come here.”
I shut the door and sit down next to her.
She puts a strand of my hair behind my ear and looks at me.
“He’s leaving.” I try to breathe normally, but I feel like everything is moving in slow motion.
She blinks. “Yeah, I know, but–”
