Chapter 17 Chapter 17
Chapter 17 Chapter 17
Aria’s POV
I didn’t go to my room.
If I did, I’d sit. And if I sat, I’d think. And if I thought, I’d break something I couldn’t fix.
So I walked past the stairs.
Past the long hallway lined with pictures that didn’t belong to me.
Past the silence that seemed to follow me in this house.
Until I found myself in the kitchen.
Empty.
Good.
I gripped the edge of the counter, staring at the marble surface like it had answers. My reflection stared back at me faintly, distorted, unfamiliar.
“One week.”
The words tasted bitter in my mouth.
One week to fix something that had been broken for years.
One week to prove I deserved to stay.
One week to not mess this up.
I let out a slow breath and straightened.
Fine.
Then I wouldn’t mess it up.
Footsteps echoed behind me.
I didn’t turn.
I already knew who it was.
“You’re avoiding me.”
Dominic.
Of course.
“I’m thinking,” I replied.
“Looks like avoiding.”
I turned then, leaning back against the counter. “What do you want?”
He walked in slowly, stopping a few feet away. His hands were in his pockets, his expression unreadable.
“You heard what my dad said,” he stated.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And what are you going to do about it?”
I let out a quiet laugh. “That’s funny.”
“What is?”
“You asking me that like this isn’t your mess.”
His jaw tightened slightly. “My mess?”
“Yes, Dominic. Your grades. Your attitude. Your everything. That’s what put me in this position.”
He stepped closer.
“And you agreed to it.”
“I needed it,” I snapped. “There’s a difference.”
Silence.
Sharp.
“You think I don’t know that?” he said quietly.
“Then act like it.”
“I am.”
“No,” I shook my head. “You’re not. You’re still treating this like a joke.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re taking it seriously.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “You think I don’t care?”
“I think you don’t care enough.”
That hit.
I saw it.
Good.
Because I was tired of pretending this didn’t matter.
“I have one week,” I continued, my voice steadier now. “One week to fix your grades or I’m out. No scholarship. No money. Nothing.”
He didn’t speak.
So I kept going.
“And you?” I added. “You lose football. Everything you’ve been working for.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?” I challenged. “Because it doesn’t look like it.”
His jaw clenched.
“You don’t see everything,” he said.
“Then show me.”
Silence again.
Heavy.
Then he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
“What do you want from me, Aria?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
“What?”
“You keep saying I’m not trying, that I don’t care enough,” he continued. “So tell me. What do you want?”
I stared at him for a second.
Then I stepped forward.
“I want you to show up,” I said.
“I do.”
“No,” I shook my head. “Not physically. Mentally. Actually be there. Pay attention. Try.”
“I am trying.”
“Then try harder.”
His eyes flashed slightly. “You think this is easy for me?”
“No,” I said. “I think you’ve made it harder than it needs to be.”
“How?”
“By fighting it every step of the way.”
Silence.
Then, quieter, I added
“You’re not stupid, Dominic.”
His expression shifted slightly.
“I never said I was.”
“But you act like it,” I said. “You hide behind it. Like failing is better than trying and not being perfect.”
That landed.
Hard.
I saw it in the way his shoulders stiffened.
In the way his gaze dropped for half a second before snapping back to mine.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
“I do,” I replied softly. “Because I’ve been there.”
He frowned. “No, you haven’t.”
“Yes, I have.”
“When?” he challenged. “You’ve always been the perfect student. Straight A’s. Teachers’ favorite.”
I let out a quiet breath.
“That’s what you see,” I said. “Not what it takes to stay there.”
He didn’t respond.
So I continued.
“You think it’s easy? Being compared? Being expected to never mess up? To always be better?” I shook my head. “It’s exhausting.”
His gaze didn’t leave mine.
“For you?” he asked.
“For anyone,” I replied. “Including you.”
That made him pause.
Just for a second.
“You don’t get it,” he said.
“Then help me understand.”
Another silence.
Longer this time.
Then he looked away.
“That’s not something you fix in a week,” he muttered.
“I’m not trying to fix you,” I said. “I’m trying to help you pass your classes.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is when everything’s connected.”
I studied him for a moment.
He wasn’t wrong.
But that didn’t change anything.
“We don’t have time to untangle everything,” I said. “So we focus on what we can control.”
“And that is?”
“Your grades.”
He let out a dry laugh. “Of course it is.”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Because right now, that’s what matters.”
“To you.”
“To both of us.”
Silence.
Then he looked at me again.
Really looked this time.
“What happens if we fail?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
“We won’t,” I said.
“That’s not what I asked.”
I hesitated.
Because I knew the answer.
Because I didn’t want to say it out loud.
“You already know,” I said quietly.
He held my gaze.
“Say it.”
I swallowed.
“I leave.”
The word felt heavier than it should.
“And you?” I added. “You lose football.”
His jaw tightened.
“So we don’t fail,” he said.
“Exactly.”
Another silence.
But this one felt… different.
Less like a wall.
More like a decision.
“Fine,” he said finally.
I blinked. “Fine?”
“I’ll do it.”
“Do what?”
“What you said,” he replied. “I’ll try. Actually try.”
I studied him carefully.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“Because I’m not doing this halfway, Dominic,” I said. “If you mess around, if you skip, if you—”
“I said I’ll do it.”
I stopped.
Because there was something in his voice.
Something steady.
Something real.
“Okay,” I said slowly.
“Okay,” he echoed.
We stood there for a moment, the tension easing just slightly.
“Good,” I said, pushing off the counter. “Then we start tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
He groaned. “Can’t we start tomorrow?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we already wasted enough time.”
He rolled his eyes slightly but didn’t argue.
Progress.
“Meet me in the study in thirty minutes,” I said.
He nodded once.
I turned to leave.
“Aria.”
I paused.
Looked back.
“What?”
He hesitated.
Then
“That guy,” he said. “Ethan.”
My chest tightened slightly.
“What about him?”
“He’s not done.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means he didn’t come back just to talk,” Dominic said. “Guys like him don’t do that.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“I know enough.”
I crossed my arms. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“And what if you’re wrong?”
He held my gaze.
“I’m not.”
Something in his tone made my stomach twist.
“Stay out of it, Dominic,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No,” he said quietly. “I can’t.”
Silence.
Heavy.
“Why?” I asked.
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
He didn’t answer immediately.
His gaze dropped briefly.
Then back to mine.
“Because if something happens to you…” he started.
Then stopped.
My heart skipped.
“If something happens to me what?” I pressed.
He shook his head.
“Nothing,” he said.
“That’s not nothing.”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
Silence.
Thick.
Tense.
“Dominic,” I said softly.
But he stepped back.
Breaking it.
“Thirty minutes,” he said. “Study.”
And then he turned and walked out.
Leaving me standing there.
Again.
With unfinished words.
Unanswered questions.
And a feeling I couldn’t quite shake
That whatever was coming next
Wasn’t just about grades anymore.