Chapter 81 Chapter 81
By the time the word love crept into Cass’s thoughts, she treated it like a threat.
Not something soft. Not something warm. Something dangerous. Something that made you careless.
Tuesday slid in quietly, like it didn’t want to be noticed. Cass preferred it that way. She arrived early, parked farther than usual, and sat in her car longer than necessary, hands resting on the steering wheel as she breathed through the weight in her chest.
She told herself she was fine.
She told herself she wasn’t thinking about Jace’s voice when he said together or the way he’d looked at her like she mattered more than the chaos swirling around them.
Lena was already at her locker when Cass walked in.
“You look like you fought your bed and lost,” Lena said.
Cass huffed. “Did Marvin get suspended or is the universe still laughing at us?”
“Suspended,” Lena said smugly. “Short term. Coach couldn’t ignore the cafeteria scene.”
Cass let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
That relief didn’t last.
Because absence didn’t erase Marvin. It sharpened him. Made him mythic. Dangerous in the way people became when they were talked about more than they were seen.
Cass felt it all day. In glances. In unfinished sentences. In teachers being a little too gentle with her.
Jace didn’t approach her until after third period.
He didn’t ambush her. Didn’t corner her. He simply walked beside her down the hall like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“How are you really?” he asked.
Cass considered lying.
“I feel like I’m standing on glass,” she said instead.
He nodded. “Same.”
They stopped near the stairwell. Sunlight spilled through the high windows, dust floating between them.
“I meant what I said,” Jace continued. “I want to help. Not fix things. Just… be there.”
Cass swallowed. “That’s the scary part.”
He didn’t pretend not to understand. “I know.”
That honesty made her chest ache.
They didn’t touch. They didn’t need to. Something fragile held them still, like any movement might break the moment.
Lena watched from a distance, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her face.
Lunch passed without incident. It felt unnatural. Too calm. Cass kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It did.
During last period, an announcement crackled over the speakers about the upcoming weekend hockey tournament. Another one. Bigger. More teams. More pressure.
Cass glanced at Jace across the room.
He didn’t look excited.
He looked braced.
After school, rain returned in a thin mist. Cass stood under the awning waiting for Lena, scrolling mindlessly through her phone. She felt it before she saw it.
Jace stepping closer.
“You heading home?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Can I walk you to your car?”
Her instinct was to say no. To protect the fragile balance she’d built around herself. But the word yes slipped out anyway.
They walked in silence, shoes splashing lightly on wet pavement.
At her car, Cass hesitated. “Jace.”
“Yeah?”
“Why do you keep choosing me?” The question surprised them both.
He didn’t answer right away. He stared at the rain streaking down her windshield.
“Because you don’t pretend,” he said finally. “And because when everyone else watches the fire, you’re the only one thinking about who’s going to get burned.”
Her throat tightened.
“That’s not heroic,” she said softly.
“I know,” he replied. “It’s human.”
Something inside her cracked.
That night, Cass dreamed of ice breaking under her feet. Of reaching for someone and finding solid ground instead.
Wednesday came with a strange energy. Like the school had decided to move on to the next story. New gossip. New drama. A cheating accusation involving a popular guy and a girl from the debate team. Loud arguments by the lockers. Tears. Apologies.
Cass watched it unfold like it was happening behind glass.
For once, she wasn’t the headline.
She found herself laughing with Lena more. Breathing easier. But every time she caught Jace’s eye across a room, her heart stuttered.
At home, her mom noticed.
“You’ve been smiling lately,” she said over dinner.
Cass poked at her food. “Have I?”
“Yes,” her mom said gently. “It suits you.”
Cass wanted to tell her everything. About the ice rink. The cafeteria. The boy who made her feel safe and terrified at the same time.
She didn’t. Not yet.
Thursday brought tension back with a vengeance.
Marvin returned.
He didn’t announce it. He didn’t need to. His presence rippled through the halls like a dropped stone.
Cass saw him once. Near the science wing. He leaned against a locker, arms crossed, watching her approach. He smiled slowly.
She walked past him without slowing.
Her heart raced. Her hands shook. But she didn’t give him what he wanted.
Jace appeared seconds later.
“You okay?” he murmured.
She nodded. “I think I’m done being scared.”
That night, Cass opened her diary again.
I don’t know when liking someone turned into needing them.
I don’t know when his calm became my anchor.
All I know is that if this ends badly, it will still have been real.
And I think I’m brave enough for that.
Friday arrived with cold sunlight and the promise of the tournament.
The gym buzzed with preparation. Posters. Schedules. Teams arriving from neighboring schools.
Cass sat in the bleachers during practice, Lena beside her, watching Jace skate. He moved differently now. Focused. Grounded.
Marvin skated too. Aggressive. Sharp. Watching Jace like prey.
Cass felt sick.
After practice, Jace found her.
“You don’t have to come this weekend,” he said quietly.
“I want to,” she replied.
He searched her face. “Even if it gets ugly?”
“Especially then.”
Something shifted in his expression. Gratitude. Fear. Something deeper.
“Cass,” he started, then stopped.
“What?”
“I’m not good at this,” he admitted. “Feelings. I usually bury them.”
She smiled sadly. “Me too.”
He stepped closer. Close enough that the world blurred around them.
“I care about you,” he said. Simple. Honest. No grand declarations.
Her breath caught. “I care about you too.”
The words didn’t explode. They settled. Warm. Certain.
They didn’t kiss.
They stood there, hands brushing, hearts racing, choosing patience over impulse.
Love didn’t arrive like a thunderbolt.
It came quietly.
Like rain soaking into dry ground.
And Cass knew, with a mix of hope and fear, that nothing would ever be the same again.