It was evening. I was sitting in the living room on the couch, wrapped in bedsheets like a cocoon. I was feeding myself pizza and watching TV, but my eyes were just moving over the screen. My mind wasn't on the show at all.
I was still thinking about what happened at school today. The cold wind on the rooftop, the way Malo's face went pale, the weight of him in my arms when he almost slipped.
I can't believe I was the one who erased my school memories and everyone else's. I still can't believe I would do something like that. It felt like a story about a stranger, not me.
I checked my phone again. I had texted Malo an hour ago, but he hadn't responded. The read receipt mocked me. He's ignoring me.
