Chapter 51 Chapter 51
The following morning, the "shaken soda can" of the previous day had finally burst, spraying its sticky, uncomfortable mess over every hallway in the school. By the time Cass stepped through the front doors, the atmosphere had shifted from buzzing to something more surgical—quiet, observant, and cold.
Lena was waiting by the lockers, her face unusually pale. She didn't lead with a joke. She didn't even have her coffee.
"Don't go into the cafeteria," Lena said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Why? What happened?" Cass asked, her heart already beginning that familiar, heavy thud against her ribs.
"Marvin," Lena breathed. "He didn’t just rage at home last night. He went to Jacinta’s. Apparently, he’s convinced she’s the one who leaked the video of him in the cafeteria to the school board. He made a scene on her lawn at midnight. The cops were called, Cass."
Cass leaned against her locker, the cold metal biting through her sweater. "Is he arrested?"
"No. His dad’s lawyers handled it before the sun came up," Lena said, her eyes darting toward the end of the hall. "But the school knows. And because Jace was there trying to pull him away, he’s caught in the fallout too."
Cass scanned the hallway, looking for the one person who occupied the pages of her diary the night before. She didn't see Jace. Instead, she saw Zayelle.
Zayelle wasn't with the cheer squad this morning. She was standing by the water fountain, her eyes red-rimmed and hollow. When she saw Cass, she didn't give a polished laugh or a small wave. She walked straight toward her.
"He's in the office," Zayelle said, her voice sounding raw. "Jace. His father is in there with him. They’re talking about a transfer, Cass. A 'voluntary' withdrawal before the board can officially suspend him for Marvin’s mess."
The "crack" Cass had written about in her diary last night felt like it was widening. "They can't do that. He didn't do anything."
"In their father's eyes, being there is doing something," Zayelle whispered. She stepped closer, her perfume—something expensive and floral—clashing with the medicinal smell of the school hallway. "I tried to talk to him this morning. I told him I could tell his dad the truth—that I saw Marvin start it. But Jace wouldn't even look at me."
Zayelle’s eyes searched Cass’s, searching for a mirror of her own desperation. "He only looks at you, Cass. Even when he's falling apart, he's looking for you."
The confession hung in the air, heavy and uninvited. Zayelle wasn't just telling her a secret; she was admitting defeat.
"I have to see him," Cass said, her voice stronger than she felt.
"You can't," Lena warned, grabbing her arm. "His dad is a shark, Cass. If he sees you—the girl his sons are fighting over—he’ll make sure Jace is gone by lunchtime."
But Cass was already moving.
She bypassed the main office and headed for the side exit near the gym, the one Jace usually used when he needed to disappear. She waited in the alcove, the sharp morning air stinging her cheeks.
Ten minutes later, the door pushed open.
Jace didn't see her at first. He was staring at the ground, his shoulders slumped in a way she had never seen. The "Cold and Calculating" boy was gone, replaced by a teenager who looked like he was carrying the weight of a crumbling empire.
"Jace," she called out.
He stopped, his head snapping up. For a second, his expression mirrored the one from the parking lot—intense, longing, and terrified. Then, he masked it.
"You shouldn't be here, Cass," he said, his voice a low rasp. "My dad is right behind me. He’s looking for someone to blame for Marvin’s spiral, and if he sees you..."
"I don't care," Cass said, stepping into his space. "Zayelle said they’re trying to transfer you."
Jace let out a jagged breath. "He wants me gone. He thinks if he separates us, Marvin will settle down. He thinks the 'distraction' is the problem, not the fact that his own sons hate the life he built for us."
"Is that what I am?" Cass asked, her voice trembling. "A distraction?"
Jace stepped closer, so close she could smell the faint scent of his peppermint gum and the cold air clinging to his jacket. He reached out, his thumb grazing her jawline—the same spot where the "crack" inside her felt most painful.
"You're the only thing that's real," he whispered. "Marvin is a storm, my dad is a judge, and Zayelle is... she's a reminder of everything I want to leave behind. But you? You're the reason I'm even trying to stay."
"Then don't go," Cass pleaded.
"I don't have a choice," Jace said, his hand dropping. "Unless I can prove that Marvin isn't the one who leaked that video. Unless I can prove someone else is pulling the strings."
Before she could ask what he meant, the gym door swung open again. Marvin stood there, his lip split and his eyes wilder than yesterday. He looked at Jace, then at Cass, then back at his twin.
"Dad's waiting, Jace," Marvin said, his voice devoid of its usual roar. He sounded defeated. "He’s calling the academy. He’s done with the 'Bennett drama'—both of them."
Jace looked at Cass one last time. It wasn't the look of a hero. It was the look of a boy who was being pulled under the water.
"Don't write me out of the story yet, Cass," he whispered.
He turned and walked toward the car where his father sat waiting, a black silhouette in a world of grey.
As the car pulled away, Zayelle stepped out from the gym doors, standing a few feet away from Cass. They watched the tail lights disappear together.
"He's not gone," Zayelle said, her voice hard. "Not if we find out who actually sent that video to the board. It wasn't Marvin. I saw the email headers on the principal's desk while I was 'waiting' for my dad."
Cass turned to her. "Who was it?"
Zayelle looked at her with a chilling clarity. "It came from an anonymous account. But the IP address? It traces back to the library. Someone was watching us yesterday, Cass. Someone who wants the twins gone as much as their father does."
Cass thought of the "shaken soda can" of the school. Someone had been the one to pull the tab. And they were still in the building.