“Stay,” I said before I could change my mind.

I don’t know how long I lay there, staring at the floor, feeling like I was sinking into it. My ribs ached from holding my breath too long, and my head throbbed with every stubborn beat of my heart. I was holding on to the feeling of something warm against me, something that wasn’t sharp edges and unsaid words, something that wasn’t blue eyes burning into mine before disappearing down the hallway.

And then there was a knock.

A sharp, no-nonsense kind of knock.

Sydney tensed slightly beside me, like she wasn’t sure if she should move or pretend to be asleep.

The door cracked open. “Blake?” Mom’s voice.

I sat up immediately, running a hand through my hair like it would make me look less like I was just lying in bed with a girl.

Mom was still wearing her robe, her expression unreadable as she took in the sight of us. Sydney, to her credit, didn’t panic. She blinked up at her like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Hi, Mrs. Price,” she said, offering a polite, friendly smile.

Mom lifted an eyebrow but returned the smile, not even blinking at the fact that there was a random girl sprawled across my sheets. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Sydney hummed, stretching slightly like a cat before pulling the blanket up over her legs.

I, on the other hand, was staring at Mom, trying to gauge how much trouble I was about to be in.

She turned her attention fully to me, her eyes sharp in that way that meant I wasn’t going to like whatever came next. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

She didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?” she prodded, stepping inside. “Because Beverly just called. Said she’s staying at Tiffany’s tonight.”

My stomach twisted. “Yeah?”

“You two fought, didn’t you?”

I shook my head, forcing myself to meet her eyes.

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. She just stood there, studying me like she could read every thought I was trying to hide.

Then she sighed, that familiar tired sound that made me feel eleven years old again. “You know,” she said softly, “when you two were kids, I used to think you’d outgrow this whole…thing. The fighting. The bickering. The way you’d drive each other crazy one minute and then act like you couldn’t breathe without each other the next.”

My jaw clenched. “It’s not like that.”

“Oh, Blake,” she said, giving me that look that made me feel like I was made of glass. “It’s always been like that.”

I didn’t say anything. Because what could I say?

“Whatever’s going on with you two,” she continued, “please…fix it. Okay? You’re both too stubborn for your own good.”

I swallowed hard.