Ethan Brown slammed his locker shut harder than necessary, the metallic bang echoing through the boys' locker room like a gunshot. Sweat still clung to his skin from practice, but the fire in his chest had nothing to do with practice. It had everything to do with the text Amanda had sent him twenty minutes ago: Damian won't say a thing, he says his fine, but I'm more scared than ever for his wellbeing. .
His Amanda.
They had grown so close these last few weeks it still surprised him. She loved him, she had whispered it one night on her porch, cheeks flushed under the streetlight, and Ethan had kissed her like the world might end if he didn't. He had been doing everything he could to keep that smile on her face, driving her to school when her bike tire went flat, bringing her favorite coffee during lunch, texting her goodnight even when he was dead tired from practice. He wanted her to be happy. He needed her happy.
