HAYDEN

We never talked about it.

Not once.

Not when we were tangled up in laughter on the library floor after she tripped over a stack of philosophy books and took me down with her.

Not when she started bringing me coffee before my early practices, knowing damn well I couldn’t function without caffeine and would forget to eat anything else.

Not even when she fell asleep on my shoulder in the common room after our final exams, her breath slow and even, her hand gripping my sleeve like she ...