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I didn't go downstairs for dinner that night. I could hear the soft clattering of pots and pans, a chair scraping against the floor, and then silence...probably him eating by himself. I just couldn't face him after the way he snapped at me. I felt pretty stupid for thinking we were finally starting to get each other.
So, I stayed curled up on my bed, my phone casting a dim light in the dark room as I scrolled through my gallery. There were pictures of Gigi laughing with her messy bun falling apart, Skylar grinning with a milkshake mustache, and Ethan smiling with his arm around my shoulder like it was just the most natural thing.
I lingered on Ethan's photo, his easy smile, the sunlight catching in his hair. It made my heart ache. He'd never yelled at me like that. He'd never made me feel small for caring.
