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FIFTY-ONE

Thalia

What’s worse than being the center of attention? Being the center of attention for more than thirty minutes straight.

Everyone keeps talking, laughing, throwing comments back and forth about the room assignments, the energy refusing to settle into anything quieter, anything easier to breathe in.

Almost everyone.

Because Ethan has been gone for a while now.

And if there had still been the smallest trace of doubt left in me about how he feels, it’s done now. Completely erased.

All evening, he looked at me only twice. I paid attention—carefully, hesitantly—I know exactly what I’m saying. And when I passed that ice cube from my mouth into Zayn’s, he didn’t react.

Nothing.

If anything, he looked bored.

And when he drew his card and chose to skip the question, there wasn’t even a hint of hesitation—just that ironic smile spreading across his lips right before he knocked the shot.

Then, as if that wasn’t enough, he disappeared the second the conversation moved toward where I was going to sleep.

So, apparently, I could end up in any of the guys’ rooms, and he wouldn’t care in the slightest.

Message received, Ethan. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

Because it does.

The ache sits heavy in my chest, dull and persistent, burning every time my gaze drifts toward the space he used to occupy, every time the urge rises—unwanted, uncontrollable—to go after him, to yell at him, to reach for him.

I spent the entire evening keeping my distance, holding myself back, waiting for the right moment to catch him alone, to try and talk, to make him listen.

Even if he didn’t want to give me another chance, I still needed to explain. That nothing happened between me and John. That I was sorry for the way I handled everything.

But now…

Now it feels pointless.

He looks perfectly fine without me.

“I know,” Maya suddenly says, her voice bright, piercing through my thoughts. “We’ll draw lots.”

“What?” Liam asks, already chuckling.

“Nick, Sierra, and Ethan are excluded,” she explains. “We make ten little notes—nine say ‘Alone’, and one says ‘Shared room’.”

“Seriously, ma?” Zayn laughs.

“Yes,” Sara replies easily. “This way, you all have equal chances.”

“Ugh,” Kai groans, pushing himself up. “Fine, I’ll handle it.” He heads toward the living room to grab paper and a pen.

“Make eleven,” Sierra adds quickly, already rising and hurrying after him. “All of you should be included. Ethan too.”

What?

No.