Marina wasn't around when I pulled up to Trent's apartment, which was exactly what I needed. Don't get me wrong—I still care about Marinaa lot, but if she'd been there, I would've had to be cautious of what I said, answer questions, keep up a smile I didn't have the strength for. Tonight, I needed something else. Something simple.
Trent was sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, eyes glued to the TV as his character tore through enemies in whatever new shooter he was obsessed with. He barely glanced up when I let myself in.
"Yo," he muttered, thumbs moving at the speed of light.
"Yo," I echoed, already dropping onto the chair beside him.
The truth? I didn't even think about it. If there was one thing I needed right now, it was a distraction. And if there was one person who could give me that without asking for too much in return, it was Trent.
"Grab a controller," he said, eyes still on the screen. "I'm not carrying your ass again though."
