Chapter 78 Chapter 78
The weekend arrived quietly, like it didn’t want to disturb the fragile calm that had settled over everything.
Cass spent Saturday morning stretched across her bed, sunlight filtering through the curtains in thin bands. Her diary lay open beside her, pages filled again after years of silence. She hadn’t realized how badly she needed a place where thoughts could spill without consequence. Writing had become her breathing space.
She wrote about the dinner. About the photograph. About the way Jace’s hand had tightened around hers like an anchor. She didn’t write his name too often. It felt dangerous to see it too much on paper.
Downstairs, her mother laughed at something Nolan said. The sound still surprised Cass, but it didn’t sting anymore. It felt earned.
Lena texted around noon.
You alive or did high school finally take you out
Cass smiled and replied.
Barely breathing. Come over?
An hour later, Lena was sprawled on the floor of Cass’s room, flipping through a magazine she wasn’t actually reading.
“Your house feels different,” Lena said. “Like… lighter.”
Cass nodded. “My mom feels different.”
“That matters,” Lena said gently. “More than anything happening at school.”
They talked about everything and nothing. The cheating scandal that was still rippling through the senior class. A teacher who’d been caught sleeping during exams. The upcoming hockey tournament that everyone pretended not to care about but absolutely did.
“Jace is going to be insane this weekend,” Lena added casually. “The pressure is on.”
Cass didn’t respond right away.
“You like him,” Lena said, not looking up.
Cass sighed. “I don’t want to.”
“That’s usually how it starts.”
Sunday arrived with gray skies and restless energy.
Jace spent the morning running drills alone at the rink, muscles burning, thoughts louder than the echo of skates on ice. He kept replaying the look on Cass’s face at the dinner table. Shock layered with something older. Something unresolved.
At home, Marvin was unbearable.
He paced. He slammed doors. He laughed too loudly at nothing.
Their father noticed but said nothing.
By evening, Jace sat on the back steps, phone in hand, staring at Cass’s contact name without opening the message thread.
Across town, Cass sat at her desk, diary open again.
I don’t know what we are.
But I know what I feel when he’s near.
And I know what I feel when he’s not.
Monday returned whether anyone was ready or not.
School buzzed with renewed intensity. The hockey tournament loomed, posters plastered on walls, announcements crackling over speakers. Marvin soaked up attention like fuel. Zayelle walked through the halls with her usual composed grace, popular girls orbiting her like satellites.
Cass watched it all with quiet distance.
At lunch, Jace finally sat beside her again.
“You disappear on weekends,” he said.
“So do you,” she replied.
A pause.
“I was thinking,” he said. “After the tournament… maybe we talk. Like actually talk.”
Her heart skipped. “Okay.”
From across the cafeteria, Marvin watched them. His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
The days moved faster after that.
Classes blurred. Laughter came easier. Tension stretched thin.
Something was coming.
Cass felt it in the way people looked at her now. Not with pity. Not with curiosity. With expectation.
And she was done being surprised.
Whatever came next, she would meet it standing.