Chapter 79 Chapter 79
By midweek, the school felt like it was holding its breath.
Cass noticed it in small ways. Lockers slammed harder than usual. Teachers paused mid sentence as if listening for something they couldn’t name. Even laughter sounded sharpened, edged with nerves. The hockey tournament loomed closer, and with it came Marvin’s growing hunger for attention. He thrived on anticipation. On being watched.
Cass tried not to.
She focused on routine. Wake up. Shower. Help her mom pack lunch while Nolan pretended not to burn the toast. Drive to school with Lena singing off key beside her. Those moments mattered more than whatever storm was circling the rink.
Still, she felt eyes on her everywhere.
In English class, the teacher paired students for a presentation. Cass ended up with a quiet girl named Rowan who smelled faintly of peppermint and spoke in careful sentences. It was nice. Normal. A reminder that not everything revolved around the Woods brothers.
But normal never lasted long.
During break, Cass spotted Jace by the trophy case. He wasn’t surrounded like Marvin usually was. He stood alone, scrolling through his phone, shoulders tight. When he saw her, something in him eased.
That look did things to her.
They didn’t touch. They didn’t need to. Standing close felt like enough.
“You okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. Just… counting days.”
“To what?”
“To when things finally explode,” he said honestly.
She didn’t laugh. She understood.
Lena appeared seconds later, slinging an arm around Cass’s shoulders. “Good news,” she announced. “I signed up to help with the tournament concessions. Which means unlimited fries and full access to gossip.”
Jace smiled faintly. “You’re terrifying.”
“I know,” Lena said proudly.
Across the hall, Zayelle watched them. She didn’t approach. She never rushed anything. Cass had learned that much. Zayelle moved like someone who already knew where she belonged and didn’t need permission to stand there.
Later that day, Marvin made his presence known.
He strolled into the cafeteria like it was his personal stage, hockey jacket slung over one shoulder, laughter trailing behind him. He hopped onto a chair near the center tables, clapping his hands for attention.
“Big weekend coming up,” he announced. “Hope everyone’s ready to watch real talent.”
A few people cheered. Some rolled their eyes.
Cass didn’t look at him.
“Especially you,” Marvin added, voice slicing through the room. “Wouldn’t want you missing front row seats.”
Silence rippled outward.
Jace stood up.
It wasn’t dramatic. He didn’t shout. He simply rose from his seat and looked at his brother.
“That’s enough,” he said.
Marvin tilted his head. “Or what?”
Jace held his gaze. Long. Steady.
“Or you prove everyone right about you.”
That landed harder than any insult.
Marvin scoffed and jumped down, shoving past him. “See you on the ice,” he muttered.
The cafeteria exhaled.
Cass stared at Jace, heart pounding. He didn’t look back at her. He didn’t need to. She felt what he was holding back like a live wire between them.
That night, Cass wrote again.
Everyone thinks strength is loud.
But the strongest thing I’ve seen lately is restraint.
Thursday arrived with rain again.
The rink buzzed with energy by afternoon. Bleachers filled. Music blared. The air smelled like cold metal and anticipation.
Cass sat with Lena near the middle, wrapped in a borrowed hoodie. Her mom had texted her good luck emojis she didn’t quite understand but appreciated anyway.
When Jace stepped onto the ice, the noise shifted. Not louder. Focused.
Marvin skated like he owned the place. Flashy. Aggressive. Showboating for the crowd. Jace was different. Controlled. Watching. Waiting.
The first game was brutal.
Marvin scored early, grinning like a king. The crowd roared. Cass’s stomach twisted.
Then Jace answered.
Not with speed. With precision. He stole the puck cleanly, cut across the rink, and scored without hesitation.
Silence fell. Then applause. Real applause.
Cass forgot to breathe.
The game stretched on. Hits. Shouts. Near misses. By the final buzzer, the scoreboard told a story no one expected.
Marvin’s team had lost.
The rink erupted.
Jace stood still at center ice, chest heaving, eyes locked on the score. He didn’t celebrate. He didn’t smile.
Marvin ripped off his helmet and slammed it to the ground.
In the stands, Cass pressed her hands to her mouth, tears stinging her eyes. Lena whooped beside her, jumping up and down.
Jace looked up.
Their eyes met across the chaos.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
Friday followed like an aftershock.
Marvin didn’t come to school.
Rumors ran wild, but Cass stayed out of it. She walked through her day like she was made of glass and light at the same time. Untouchable. Fragile.
After school, Jace found her by her car.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Proud of you.”
He swallowed. “That means more than you think.”
They stood there, rain misting the air, words hovering between them.
“I don’t know how this ends,” Cass said softly.
Jace met her gaze. “Neither do I. But I know I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
Her heart skipped.
Somewhere inside her, something shifted.
Whatever came next wouldn’t be quiet.
And for the first time, Cass didn’t want it to be.