The day had already drained every ounce of energy I had left. I trudged through my afternoon classes in a daze, my injured foot encased in its clunky black boot. Every step sent a dull throb up my leg, but worse than the physical pain was the weight in my chest. I felt like I was dragging it behind me all day, an invisible anchor nobody else could see.

The stares didn't help. They were subtle but obvious enough—curious glances from classmates, whispered conversations that fell silent whenever I walked past. I kept my head down, arms crossed tightly over my chest as though I could hide the boot entirely if I tried hard enough.

By the time I reached Bryan's house to babysit Lily, my nerves were raw.

Lily answered the door as she always did—grinning and bouncing on her toes like a little golden retriever pup. But the moment her big brown eyes landed on the boot, her smile faltered.

"Miss Amber," she said, pointing down at my foot with alarm. "What happened to you?"

I tried to smile reassuringly, though the heaviness in my chest made it feel weak. "It's just a little accident from dancing," I explained gently. "I hurt my foot, but I'll be okay."

Lily's brow furrowed, her face scrunching up with genuine concern. "Did it hurt?"

"It still does a little," I admitted, crouching carefully so I was at her level. "But I'm tough, don't you worry."

"You're like a pirate with a boot!" she exclaimed suddenly, her expression brightening. "Or a robot!"

I blinked at her logic, a small laugh escaping me before I could stop it. "A robot pirate? That's a new one."

Lily nodded fiercely. "And robots need to sit down so they can recharge! Come on, I made a fort on the couch!"

I let her tug me inside, grateful for her sweetness. The nerves about Bryan's reaction still buzzed quietly in the back of my mind, but Lily's excitement was like a temporary balm. I collapsed onto the couch as she proudly tucked a blanket over my legs and handed me a stuffed animal.

"You need to rest," she said solemnly, her tiny hands on her hips. "Doctor Lily's orders."

"Got it, Doctor," I replied, a real smile breaking through this time.

For the next hour, Lily entertained herself with a movie and her usual drawings. Every once in a while, she'd glance at my boot, asking me if I needed anything. It was sweet and pure in a way I didn't deserve, especially considering how useless I felt today.

But my peaceful bubble burst the moment the front door opened.

The sound of keys rattling and the door shutting made me tense instinctively. Bryan's voice carried through the hallway as he spoke on the phone, his tone casual and confident as always.

I sank lower into the couch, willing myself to become invisible.

When he finally walked into the living room, his gaze flicked over me and immediately landed on my foot. His brow furrowed, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face.

He didn't say anything—not a word. Just gave me a long, lingering look before turning toward the kitchen, dropping his duffel bag on the counter. I sat frozen, gripping the blanket tighter around me. For some reason, his silence felt worse than any teasing remark he could've made.

The day had already worn me down to the point of exhaustion, and tutoring was the last thing I wanted to deal with. After spending the afternoon babysitting Lily and enduring Bryan's cold silence when he'd come home, my nerves were frayed. My head hurt, my foot throbbed in the clunky boot, and the thought of pushing through another two hours of Spanish made me want to scream.

But I sat at the dining table anyway, my notebook open and blank in front of me. Bryan dropped his things on the table with a loud thud, sitting across from me with that same smug confidence he always seemed to carry. He didn't even look at me as he flipped open his notes.

"Ready?" he asked, his tone clipped.

"Yeah," I muttered, though I wasn't.

At first, I tried—really, I did. Bryan went through verbs and conjugations, his voice calm but bored, like he was repeating himself for the hundredth time. My pen hovered over the page as I stared at the list of words, but none of them stuck. The syllables sounded like white noise, blurring together into something I couldn't make sense of.

"Did you get that?" Bryan asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said quickly, pretending to write something down.

He stared at me. "Then what's the past tense for hacer?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

Bryan's jaw tightened. "You weren't listening."

"I was listening," I said defensively, though my cheeks flushed.

"No, you weren't," he shot back, closing his notebook with an audible snap. "We've gone over this three times, Amber. Three."

"I'm tired, okay?" I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "It's been a long day."

Bryan let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, well, being tired doesn't mean you stop trying."

"I am trying!"

He shook his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he leaned forward. "No, you're not. You're sitting there staring at nothing while I waste my time explaining things you should already know. I thought you wanted to pass this class."

His tone struck a nerve, and I felt the frustration bubbling in my chest. "I do!" I snapped, gripping my pen tightly. "You think I don't care? I'm sorry if I'm not perfect at this!"

"That's not what I said."

"You didn't have to!" I fired back, glaring at him. "You act like I'm some kind of idiot who can't keep up, but I'm trying my best, okay? Maybe you could actually try being helpful instead of sitting there acting like I'm beneath you!"

Bryan's expression darkened, the muscle in his jaw ticking as he sat back in his chair. His voice was cold when he spoke again. "Helpful? Amber, you've been zoning out this entire time. If you can't handle this, maybe you really don't belong here."

The words hit me like a slap.

I froze, my breath catching as his voice echoed in my ears. Maybe you don't belong here.

"What?" I whispered, my throat tight.

Bryan didn't back down. "You heard me." He gestured at my empty notebook. "You've been off all week. If you're not going to put in the work, then why are you even here?"

I stared at him, stunned. My chest tightened, and I felt my face grow hot, tears welling in my eyes before I could stop them.

"You don't mean that," I said, my voice trembling.

Bryan didn't answer, his expression hard.

As I stood abruptly, shoving my notebook into my bag with trembling hands, I couldn't stop the storm of thoughts racing through my head. Why was he being like this? Just a few days ago, he had been so different.

I couldn't forget the way he'd jumped into the pool to save me, how gentle he'd been when he wrapped the blanket around me, shielding me from everyone's stares. The way he had taken care of me afterward, staying by my side until I'd stopped crying. That Bryan had been kind, protective—even sweet.

But this?

This Bryan was cruel, cold, and sharp-tongued. I couldn't understand how he'd flipped so suddenly, why he was pushing me so hard now when just a few days ago, he'd gone out of his way to make sure I was okay.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice trembling as I looked at him. "Why are you being so mean to me?"

Bryan's expression didn't soften. If anything, it hardened further. "I'm not being mean, Amber. I'm being honest."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You're not. You're—" I paused, struggling to find the words. "You were so sweet the other night. You helped me when I needed it. And now you're... like this?"

His jaw tightened, his dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, but he didn't respond.

"Forget it," I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I'm done for tonight."

I limped toward the door as quickly as I could, the boot thudding heavily with every step. My vision was swimming, my chest tight with a mix of frustration, hurt, and confusion.

"Amber," Bryan called after me, his voice softer now, but I couldn't bear to turn around.

The tears spilled over the moment I stepped outside, the cold night air biting against my skin. His words echoed in my mind, sharp and relentless.

"If you can't handle this, maybe you really don't belong here."

And then the unspoken question followed: Why did he care so much?

He didn't have to tutor me. He didn't have to help me. Yet he did. And now he was being cruel, pushing me in ways that felt unnecessarily harsh.

I wiped at my face angrily as I limped down the walkway, my foot throbbing with every step. I didn't want to think about him anymore, but I couldn't stop.

His words, his tone, the flicker of something in his eyes—it all swirled together in my mind, a puzzle I couldn't solve.

But one thing was clear: I needed to get away.

I just wanted to go home.

Bryan's POV

The door slammed shut behind her, the sound bouncing off the walls of the quiet room. I sat there for a moment, staring at the spot where she'd been sitting, her voice still ringing in my ears.

Why are you being so mean to me?

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck as I leaned back in my chair. I wasn't trying to be mean. I just didn't have the patience tonight—not after the day I'd had. Practice this morning had been a disaster, with Coach riding us harder than ever. My legs were still sore from all the extra drills, and my head was pounding from trying to keep up with my classwork on top of it all.

And now this.

I pushed the chair back, standing abruptly as I started pacing the room. The tension in my chest hadn't eased since Amber showed up for our tutoring session, already looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. It wasn't that I didn't want to help her. I did. But the way she zoned out halfway through the explanation—like none of it mattered—had hit a nerve I didn't even know I had.

I ran a hand through my hair, letting out a frustrated breath. It wasn't just about her, though. The weight of everything else—football, classes, the constant pressure to perform—it had been building all day, and she just happened to be the one in front of me when I finally snapped.

This week had been brutal. Between trying to keep up with my coursework and making sure I didn't screw up on the field, I was barely holding it together. The season was coming up fast, and every practice felt like an audition for my future. One missed pass, one fumble, and it could all fall apart. No scholarship, no shot at making it big. And then what? What would I have to show for all the hours I'd poured into this?

Nothing. That's what.

And if it wasn't football, it was my professors breathing down my neck, reminding me that my grades had to stay up if I wanted to keep playing. There weren't enough hours in the day to do everything they wanted from me, but they didn't care. They didn't care that I spent half my nights staying up just to cram for exams or finish assignments. They just wanted results.

So yeah, maybe I came down on Amber too hard. Maybe I shouldn't have said what I did. But it was frustrating—watching her sit there, zoning out like none of it mattered, when I was doing everything I could to hold it all together.

I stopped pacing, glancing at the notebook she'd left behind on the table. It was still open to the same page, the pen lying haphazardly across the top like she'd dropped it in her rush to leave. I could still hear the way her voice had trembled when she asked why I was being mean, the way her eyes had filled with tears before she turned away.

My stomach twisted, but I pushed the feeling down. It wasn't my fault she wasn't paying attention. I was trying to help her, and she wasn't even trying to meet me halfway.

Still, I couldn't shake the image of her face—the hurt in her eyes when I told her maybe she didn't belong. I hadn't meant it the way it came out, but the words had sounded harsh even to me.

Before I could sink deeper into my thoughts, a soft voice startled me.

"Bryan?"

I looked up sharply to see Lily standing at the bottom of the staircase, her small frame dwarfed by one of my oversized hoodies she liked to sleep in. Her dark hair was tousled, and she rubbed her eyes sleepily, but the worried expression on her face told me she'd heard more than I wanted her to.

"Lily," I said, standing up quickly. "What are you doing awake?"

She frowned, taking a hesitant step closer. "I heard yelling. Was that Amber?" Her voice was quiet but tinged with concern.

I sighed, running a hand down my face as guilt twisted in my gut. The last thing I wanted was for Lily to get caught up in my mess. "Yeah, we were just... talking. It got a little loud, that's all."

Lily tilted her head, her big brown eyes studying me in a way that made me feel like I was under a microscope. "It didn't sound like talking. It sounded like she was upset."

"She was upset," I admitted reluctantly, my voice softer now. "I said something I shouldn't have, and she left."

Lily crossed her arms, her expression a mix of curiosity and disappointment. "Why would you do that? Amber's nice. She always helps me with my math and asks about my drawings."

I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. "It's complicated, Lily. I didn't mean to upset her. I was just... frustrated."

"Because of Baseball?" she asked, her voice quiet but sure. Lily was smarter than most kids her age, and she'd picked up on more than I liked to admit about the pressure I was under.

"Yeah," I said after a pause. "And school. And everything else."

Lily walked closer, her bare feet making soft sounds against the hardwood floor, and stopped in front of me. "You're not mad at Amber. You're mad at all the other stuff, and you took it out on her."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Because she was right. I wasn't really mad at Amber. I was mad at myself—for not being able to handle everything the way I thought I should, for letting my stress bleed into the one thing I could control: our tutoring session.

"I guess I did," I admitted quietly, crouching down so I was eye level with her. "But I didn't mean to. I just... I don't know, Lil. Sometimes it feels like there's too much going on, and I can't keep up."

Lily's expression softened, and she reached out to place her small hand on my arm. "You should tell her you're sorry. That's what you always tell me to do when I yell at my friends."

I smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. "You're too smart for your own good, you know that?"

She grinned, but it quickly faded as she glanced toward the door. "Is she coming back?"

"Not tonight," I said, standing up and guiding her toward the stairs. "But I'll talk to her tomorrow, okay? You don't need to worry about it."

Lily nodded, but as she started up the stairs, she looked back at me, her voice small. "Bryan?"

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to do everything by yourself. You can ask for help too."

Her words lingered in the quiet after she disappeared upstairs, leaving me standing alone in the middle of the room. I let out a slow breath, the weight on my shoulders feeling heavier than ever.