He had this way of making reading look like a contact sport, like he was bracing for impact with every turn of the page.

Without glancing up, he muttered, “This book is dumb.”

I nearly choked on my lemonade.

The words were so unexpected, I had to fight the urge to burst out laughing.

Tiffany gasped so loudly that she smudged the polish on her pinky toe. “Oh my God,” she blurted, eyes wide, staring at him like he’d grown a second head. “Did you just voluntarily speak?”

Blake looked up then, meeting my gaze.

For a second, I was trapped—lost in the depths of those green eyes, like forests shrouded in mist, hiding secrets I’d never know.

He had that unreadable expression again, the one that made it impossible to tell if he regretted speaking or if he just did not care.

I rolled onto my stomach, propping myself up on my elbow, a little too interested now. “What’s dumb about it?”

Blake hesitated for half a second, then slowly turned the book toward me. It was a fantasy novel. His finger tapped against the cover as he added, “The hero is supposed to be smart. But he keeps doing stupid things. Walking into obvious traps. Ignoring warnings. Making the same mistakes over and over.” His fingers tightened around the book. Then, with a loud thud, he shut it, as if he was angry at the character for being so annoyingly relatable. “It’s frustrating to read.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. Like he hated the idea of someone making the same mistakes over and over. The realization settled slowly, like a weight pressing down on my chest. This wasn’t just about the hero in some fantasy novel who couldn’t get his act together. This was about him. About people who should have known better but didn’t.

About a past he never talked about.

I studied him for a moment, but he’d already looked away, staring off toward the trees like he hadn’t just spoken more words in a minute than he had in days.

Tiffany, never one for prolonged silences, wiggled her freshly painted toes and shrugged. “If characters always made the right decisions, books would be boring,” she offered, though I doubted he was listening.

He kept staring off into the distance, his eyes distant, his mind clearly lost in whatever thoughts had triggered his reaction. Lost somewhere I couldn’t follow.

The silence was deafening.

He didn’t say a word. Didn’t acknowledge Tiffany’s comment. Didn’t seem to be here at all.

He was somewhere else entirely—in a place I wasn’t invited to.

Tiffany nudged me with her elbow, lowering her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Do you think he’s been possessed? Like, you know, by some kind of...evil spirit?”