112_The Graduation Trap

Damon’s POV

I sat in the driver’s seat of my black Range Rover, watching the slow exodus of students through the school’s iron gates. Laughter carried in thin, uneven threads over the parking lot, girls in pleated skirts swatting at each other’s hats, boys yanking at ties already loosened as if they’d been suffocating all morning.

I wasn’t here for them. I was here for Mike. Or I was supposed to be.

He’d been ignoring me for three weeks, my calls, my ...