Too Late for Sorry — Episode 5

The memories from last night came rushing back, uninvited. I grabbed the roughest loofah I had and scrubbed my skin over and over until it was raw and red. Trying, clumsily, to scrub off the worst memory of my life. Also trying not to look at my body in the mirror.

My soft stomach, my thick thighs, all the things his teammates had laughed about. I couldn't sleep. Everything hurt. Shane didn't text either, breaking the six-year streak of goodnight texts we'd had since we first got phones. Fine. It was gonna happen eventually.

I finally passed out, just before dawn. The next morning, I was dead asleep when I felt someone press a soft kiss to my I jolted awake. Familiar jaw, familiar throat. The smell was Shane's usual cedar cologne, plus something new.

A faint lemon perfume. fume. Forgot. Shane knew my alarm code. Seeing me awake, he shifted lower, laughing softly, trying to kiss my mouth. I jerked my head away, shoved him hard, and rolled to the other side of the bed. What, suddenly shy? I didn't answer, just pulled the blanket over my head.

you've got some nerve. Didn't text me goodnight, turned your phone off, and now you're hiding from me? A minute later, Shane came out to the living room, pissed and exasperated. Eventually, like he just remembered, he asked casually. Right, you took that pill yesterday, right? Don't screw this up. I can't explain this to our parents. He grabbed a smoothie from the counter and held it

out. Come on, put something in your stomach before you keep raging. Your stomach's bad enough as it