June knocked again. The sound echoed off the porch and died somewhere inside.
Still, no answer.
I shifted from one foot to the other, glancing at her. "He's not picking up."
She sighed, pulling out her phone anyway. "Let me try again."
We both sat on the porch steps.
My screen showed five missed calls, three voice notes, and a bunch of unread messages….all from me to Marcus. The last one was a dumb meme I sent last night hoping he'd laugh. He didn't even open it.
"I've been trying to call him," June said quietly, her voice cracked a little. "He still hasn't replied. Not even seen the texts."
I sighed and rubbed my hands together. "I sent him stickers… and, like, a small essay."
I tried to smile. "He's really mad at us."
Silence sat heavy between us.
A car passed down the street, but everything else felt still. I picked at the chipped paint on the porch rail.
My chest felt tight….that kind of ache you can't swallow away.
"I just hope he's okay," June said after a moment.
