Chapter 143: The near misses and old rumbles
Chapter 143: Near Misses and Old Rumbles (Elena’s POV)
By Wednesday afternoon, the secret birthday logistics were getting complicated. I had a shared spreadsheet hidden on my phone under a folder named AP Gov Study Guide, tracking twenty-four pounds of barbecue ribs, three cases of soda, and a headcount that kept shifting because hockey players have the communication skills of a brick wall.
I was standing by the second-floor water fountain, frantically texting Mason about ice bags, when a shadow fell over my screen.
I locked my phone instantly and looked up, expecting Chloe. Instead, it was Jax.
He looked completely different than he had two weeks ago. The arrogant, loud-mouthed varsity defenseman who used to high-five Maya in the corridors was gone. His leather letterman jacket was stuffed into his backpack, and he was slouched against the lockers, looking down at his worn sneakers. He looked defeated, like a guy who knew his entire social standing had evaporated the moment the server logs went public.
"Elena," Jax said, his voice quiet. He didn't look me in the eye. "Hey."
"Jax," I said, keeping my tone perfectly flat. "Do you need something?"
"I just..." He cleared his throat, shifting his weight uneasily. "I wanted to say that I didn't know Maya was forging those timestamps. When she told us Liam broke into her house, we actually believed her. I know I gave you a hard time in the cafeteria before the hearing, and... I’m sorry. For all of it."
I stared at him for a long moment. Part of me wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but looking at his slumped shoulders, it felt like kicking a guy who was already flat on his back.
"You believed her because it was easy, Jax," I said directly, keeping my English plain and sharp. "It was easier to turn on Liam than to question Maya. You didn't care about the truth; you just cared about staying on the winning side."
Jax flinched, his face flushing a dark red. "Yeah. You're right. I was an idiot. I just wanted to clear the air before graduation."
"The air is clear," I told him, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "Just make sure you actually think for yourself next time."
He nodded quickly, looking relieved that I hadn't yelled at him, and practically scrambled down the stairs toward the gym. It wasn't a massive explosion of drama, but seeing him so thoroughly defeated felt like a quiet victory. The old hierarchy was completely dead.
When I got back to our house later that evening, the heavy atmosphere of the high school vanished the second I walked through the door. The kitchen smelled like burnt cheese.
Liam was standing at the stove, holding a spatula like a weapon, glaring intensely at a frying pan. He had his gray hockey sweatpants on and his hair was messy from a post-practice nap.
"Don't look at me," he warned without turning around. "It’s a technical error."
I walked over, leaning against the counter to inspect the damage. "Liam, did you try to make a grilled cheese sandwich using garlic flatbread and block cheddar?"
"It’s an experimental dinner," he argued, flipping a completely blackened piece of bread with a heavy thud. "The cheddar didn't melt at the right structural velocity. It’s a kitchen malfunction."
"You burnt the bread and the cheese is still a solid brick," I laughed, taking the spatula out of his hand. "Move over, Captain. You’re banned from the stove until college."
"I survived three days on county jail rations, Elena," he joked, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and pulling me back against his chest. His breath was warm against my neck, and the familiar scent of his soap instantly made me forget about the spreadsheets on my phone. "I think my stomach can handle a little carbon."
"Well, my stomach can't," I turned around in his embrace, resting my hands on his shoulders. "I'll make actual food. You go sit down and finish your history reading."
Liam groaned playfully, dropping his chin onto my shoulder. "My brain is completely fried. I’ve been reading about the industrial revolution for three hours. If I have to look at another textbook today, I'm going to lose it."
"You have to pass that exam on Friday if you want the Boston scout to sign the final clearance," I reminded him, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his forehead.
"I know, I know," he murmured. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, slow kiss that made my heart do a familiar, ridiculous flip. He tasted like the sweet tea he'd been drinking earlier. He pulled me closer, his large hands anchoring firmly at the small of my back, prolonging the kiss until the kitchen timer on the microwave started buzzing loudly.
I pulled away with a gasp, my face warm. "See? Total distraction."
"Best distraction in the house," he smiled, winking at me before walking over to the kitchen table to open his binder.
While the pasta water was heating up, I leaned against the fridge and slyly pulled out my phone. Mason had just texted me: Meat guy confirmed 24lbs for Sat morning. Where do we put the cake?
I quickly typed back: Bring the cake straight to the cabin on Friday night so he doesn't see it in our fridge.
"What are you doing over there?" Liam’s voice suddenly sounded right next to my ear.
I jumped, nearly dropping my phone onto the linoleum floor. I slid the device into my back pocket so fast I almost ripped the denim.
Liam was standing right beside me, holding an empty water bottle, his eyebrows raised in suspicion. He was looking at me with a sharp, piercing gaze that made me break into a sudden sweat.
"Nothing," I said, my voice squeaking slightly. "Just checking the... weather forecast."
"The weather forecast," Liam repeated slowly, leaning one hand on the fridge door, effectively trapping me against the appliance. A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Elena, you just shoved your phone into your pocket like you were hiding contraband from a guard. Who are you texting?"
"Nobody," I said, trying to look innocent. "Just Sarah. About... an AP Gov assignment."
"Sarah doesn't text you at 7:30 PM about government assignments," Liam said, lowering his head so his face was just inches from mine. His blue eyes were gleaming with amusement, but there was a dangerous edge of curiosity there. "And you don't turn red when you're talking about schoolwork. Are you keeping secrets from me under my own roof?"
My heart was pounding against my ribs. He was too smart for his own good. If he looked at my phone for even two seconds, the entire eight-chapter surprise would be totally ruined.
"I don't keep secrets," I lied, pressing my palms against his chest to push him back an inch. "The water is boiling, Liam. Go sit down before I burn the dinner for real."
Liam studied my face for three agonizing seconds. For a moment, I thought he was going to demand to see the screen. But then he just chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped back.
"Fine," he said, turning back toward the table. "But I'm watching you, Elena. You're up to something."
I let out a long, silent breath, my fingers trembling as I reached for the box of pasta. We were only on Wednesday, and he was already tracking my movements. Keeping this secret until Saturday was going to be an absolute nightmare.