Still Falling ENOUGH FOR NOW
Paper dust and old carpet hung in the library air, sunlight striping the floor between stacks. Ashley had their corner again, gold hair catching the window light; Liz beside her had the same loud grin they'd carried since primary school. They still hadn't let go of his sleepover slip.
"Okay, but how many?" Ashley leaned in, voice syrup-sweet. "Since you admitted it. Ballpark. We're not asking for floor plans."
Liz snorted. "We're kind of asking for floor plans."
Val's neck warmed before he'd said a word.
"A few." He shrugged. "Not what you're picturing."
"Then what are we picturing?" Liz's brow went up.
"Gates. Sore muscles. Dawn alarms." He kept his voice flat. "Not popcorn."
Ashley's grin widened anyway. Liz clicked her pen like she was taking notes. He gave them nothing that would stick: no count, no dates, just enough denial to keep them circling.
Color climbed his face. Embarrassing, but familiar—the same heat as when Liz had asked if he'd kissed anyone and wouldn't let it go. He could breathe through this.
Ashley and Liz traded a look and leaned in again. His cheeks still wouldn't cool.
First lunch meant trays slamming and reheated food smell across the whole cafeteria. Val dropped into a seat with Alex, Morris, and Joshua.
Alex went back to primary school with him. Morris and Joshua had stopped being strangers weeks ago. Homework. Weekend plans. Val listened harder than he used to and answered when they needed an answer.
Regret sat in the back of his mind, but over plastic trays it felt like something he could fix instead of carry.
When the bell split the day again, Val ended up at another table with Mei, Xian, and Dawn.
Mei bounced in her chair, black hair sharp under the fluorescent light; Xian sat quieter, longer hair, dryer patience. Dawn's blonde was everywhere as usual. The table talk moved easy.
"Still walking like the gate chewed your legs?" Mei grinned.
"Gate won on points," Val muttered.
Xian didn't look up from her tray. "Points don't pay for ibuprofen."
Dawn laughed, close and unguarded. Something in Val's chest lurched when she did. He held her gaze half a second too long, threw a joke over it, and the meal kept moving.
Ashley and Liz left without a number.
They went bright anyway, still grinning from down the hall like the chase mattered more than the answer. Val's face finally cooled on the walk out. For now, that was enough.