She didn't go home that night.
I told her to. I even said it plain and clear—"Val, you need to go home."
She only pouted, dragging out her words in that dramatic way of hers. "If I go home, I'll die."
I stared at her. "You'll die?"
"Yes." She folded her arms like she was stating a fact instead of being ridiculous. "Die. As in, drop dead. Because my heart will stop working if I'm not with you. And also—" she leaned forward with a smile too sweet to trust, "you study better when I'm around."
"Not true."
> "It is."
"You distract me. Constantly."
"Fine then." She smirked, flipping her hair. "Let me prove it."
"Smart, but it's not gonna work, Val. You need to go home."
And just like that, her face softened. The sharp edges melted away, replaced with something quiet, something raw. "Please? Just one more week… then I'll go home."
