You’re not eating.

Darius thinks as he watches you discretely.

He doesn’t know why he cares, but you never eat. Not at school anyway.

You cheekbones are sharper—not that it takes away you beauty, it enhances it. But still… that doesn’t change the fact that you’re losing weight.

Your clothes fit you more loosely than before.

Something is up, and he doesn’t have a fucking clue what. He knows his boys notice. They give you the same concerned glances he does when they think he’s not looking.

The urge to force you to tell him what’s wrong is strong, but you’re still with that fucker Julio—and worse, you’re hanging out more with Henderson. His friends are constantly around you. You’re never alone, not at lunch. Not in your classes.

Darius is tempted to find a way to distract them so he can pull you away… but he talks himself out of it.

He shouldn’t care that you’re losing weight. What difference is it to him?

He might not admit it to anyone else, but you’re the one that dumped him, even though he tells everyone else he did.

You weren’t eating a ton before, this is just more of the same.

Maybe you’re still upset about your Mom—that’s probably all it is.

He can’t say he blames you, but it is not his problem. Not anymore.