Chapter 75 HIS WISH
MERRIELYNN.
Valtor continued to stare at me and there was no single trace of friendliness in his gaze.
My mind raced for a believable excuse when I saw that he was going to make this difficult for me.
I plastered on a shaky smile. “I just—uh—I need to use the bathroom. This is the closest one.”
His expression didn’t budge. His gaze remained cold and distant. He looked at me as if he didn’t even know who I was, as if we had some kind of underlying beef that I wasn’t aware of.
“This is the boys’ football locker room,” he finally spoke, his voice harsher than normal. “You don’t belong here. And neither does any other female.”
The words stung more than they should have, but I swallowed it down, thinking of the next thing to say
“I know that,” I said, trying to keep my voice casual. “But it’s mayhem out there, and all the other bathrooms are packed. I don’t exactly have a lot of options.”
He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing even further. “Is that so?”
I forced a laugh, even though my stomach twisted into uncomfortable knots. “What’s your deal, Valtor? I just need two minutes. It’s not like I’m trying to snoop through your sweaty jerseys.”
His jaw tightened, and for a second, something flickered in his eyes. Something bitter.
“You can’t go in.” His voice was so cold, it could’ve frozen the air between us. “You should head back.”
Frustrated, I clenched my teeth, fighting the urge to scream at him. Why was he being like this?
Why did he seem to have this grudge against me when I hadn’t done anything to deserve it?
And just like that, he disappeared inside, closing the door with a sharp click right in my face.
“Wow,” I thought as I stared at the door, my chest feeling tight with annoyance.
I took a deep breath and turned around, scanning the hallway for another way in. Another door, a window maybe. But there was nothing.
Out of options, I forced myself to walk away. I wanted to scream, to punch the wall, to do something. But all I could do was retreat, my worry growing heavier.
When I reached the bleachers, Emorie was waiting, her eyes narrowing when she saw me. “That was quick.”
I shrugged, trying to play it off, but my smile felt fake. “Yeah. Long line. Figured I’d wait.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. We sat down together, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Cormac.
Maybe it was because he’d cared for me when I wasn’t my best self.
Or maybe it was because, despite everything, he always seemed... invincible. But seeing him like that—motionless, vulnerable—had knocked the breath out of me.
And now, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Deep down, all I felt was concern. What if he wasn’t okay? What if something had gone horribly wrong?
I bit my lip, staring at the locker room door, wondering what was going on in there.
\-x-x-
Back at the dorm, the steady hum of the fan filled the silence as I sat on the edge of my bed, my phone cool and weighty in my hand.
I sighed as I stared at the old thread between me and that unknown number.
The messages were few, cryptic, but I knew who they were from.
Cormac.
My thumb hovered over the keyboard. My doubts whispered that I was being ridiculous for even thinking about sending a text. He was probably fine. He had to be fine. But the image of him lying motionless on the field played on a loop in my head, refusing to go away.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I typed: 'Are you okay?'
The words looked so small, but they were all I could think to ask. I took a breath and hit send.
I waited, hoping I’d get a reply but nothing came.
I put the phone down on the bed beside me, my fingers picking at a loose thread on the blanket.
The minutes ticked by, slow.
Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen.
My eyes kept darting back to the screen, but nothing changed.
By the time half an hour crawled past, my anxiety had skyrocketed. I grabbed the phone again and typed another message: 'Were you hospitalized?'
The second I sent it, I groaned and smacked my forehead with my palm. “Seriously, Mere?” I muttered to myself. If he was hospitalized, how on earth would he be able to text me back?
I was probably just being a pest.
Frustrated, I tossed the phone aside and opened my laptop, pulling up a movie I’d seen a dozen times. The familiar scenes played out in front of me, but I barely registered them because my mind stubbornly drifted back to Cormac.
Emorie popped her head into the room after a while. “Hey, want to make dinner?”
I jumped at the distraction. “Yeah, sure.”
We spent the next hour in the dorm kitchen.
I focused on chopping vegetables, stirring sauces—anything to keep my hands busy and my mind off my phone. Emorie chattered about random things, and I simply nodded along.
After dinner, I buried myself in textbooks, and when exhaustion finally came, I fell into bed and slept off.
Later, I woke up to darkness, feeling the urgent need to pee. I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I stumbled to the bathroom.
When I was done with my business, I crawled back under the covers, I rolled over, sliding my hand under the pillow out of habit.
I pulled my phone out and squinted at the screen.
The time read 4:00 a.m.
And my eyes went over to the notification bar.
That’s when I saw it—a new notification.
My breath caught as I read: Unknown Number: 27 minutes ago.
I quickly sat up as I tapped the message open, and that’s when I saw it; five words:
'Will you come see me?'