Chapter 110 TYLER
Monday morning came too quickly, like it had been waiting to remind me of just how unprepared I was. My alarm screamed against the quiet of my room, and I groaned, flinging an arm over my face. My shoulder ached faintly, still healing from the injury, but the pain was nothing compared to the knot in my chest.
I moved around my room in a daze, throwing on my uniform and glancing at my phone every few minutes.
Three missed calls from Harper. Three. I hadn’t answered. Not because I didn’t want to, but because that morning my parents had decided it was the perfect time for a private Mercer family day. No phones. No distractions. I’d been stuck in the kitchen helping with breakfast while my parents talked about traditions and plans for the rest of the day.
My phone had been sitting on the kitchen counter, pushed into a corner where my mom could keep an eye on it. I hadn’t even seen the calls until hours later.
I had called her back the second I finally got my phone again, practically begging her to text me, to let me know she was okay. But there had been nothing. Just silence. The kind of silence that presses down on you, heavy and relentless, leaving your thoughts no place to hide.
I tried to keep myself busy all weekend. Practicing shots in the driveway. Helping Jacob with his homework. Even hanging out with him longer than usual so neither of us had to sit around doing nothing. But none of it worked. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Not for a single second.
I skipped breakfast. I didn’t even bother thinking about it. My stomach was too tight, my mind too full of her.
When I kissed my mom goodbye, she looked at me in that quiet way she always did, the way that made it clear she knew I was hiding something.
“Wear your sling,” she said gently. “You’ll forget it’s still healing if you don’t.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to sound confident even though my shoulder ached with every movement.
“And your friends?” she asked. Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of concern. “After everything that happened over the holidays…”
I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that simple. That Mark walking in that evening, everyone leaving in a hurry, all the whispers and judgment afterward had left a scar I couldn’t explain. I had never felt so alone, not after hurting Harper. She was the one person who used to pull me out of my own head, the one who reminded me there was still something worth fighting for. And I had ruined that.
I just nodded instead. “I’ll be fine.”
I got into my car and drove to school in silence. The streets were still empty, the early sun hitting the pavement in long, sharp lines. I didn’t head to the locker room like I usually did, didn’t stop to see Peter, Jax, or any of my teammates. I just needed to see her first. She was my focus, my reason for showing up today.
When I got to the classroom, Harper wasn’t there yet. I slipped into my usual seat at the back, ignoring the awkward glances Peter, Jax, and Kane exchanged across the room. The bell rang, and still she didn’t appear. The room buzzed with quiet conversation until the teacher stepped in. The moment Mark walked through the door, I felt a tension twist in my chest. Our eyes met briefly. No words, just the weight of everything we had lost and everything still unresolved. He took a seat far away, and I tried to focus on the clock, on anything except the dread curling inside me.
Then the door opened again. Harper stepped in. And the world narrowed to just her. Every sound dimmed. Every movement around me seemed to blur. I could see it in her eyes, in the way her shoulders tensed. She was nervous, terrified even. She didn’t want to be here, and it was obvious.
The teacher noticed. “Miss Lane, why’re you late?” Her voice was sharp, clipped.
Harper opened her mouth to respond, but the words faltered. She stammered, swallowed, tried again, and finally the teacher cut her off abruptly. “There's no point in staying when the class is almost over. Wait outside until the next one starts.”
A few snickers rippled through the room. Harper’s face fell, pale and fragile, and she bolted, nearly tripping over her own feet as she fled. My stomach roiled with anger.
I stood immediately. “Harper!” I called, my voice low but urgent.
“Mr. Mercer, don't you dare—”
I didn't hear the rest of Mrs. Carter's sentence as I chased after Harper.
I caught up to her near the girls’ bathroom, just as she pressed her hands against the wall, catching her breath. Her eyes were wet, wide with emotion.
“I can’t do it,” she whispered. “I can’t walk back in there knowing… knowing what they’re all thinking.”
I slid my hand closer without touching her, careful not to crowd her. “Harper… it’s okay. Just breathe. You don’t have to face them right this second.”
She shook her head, her voice barely audible. “I can’t do it.”
Her fingers tightened against the wall. “I miss when no one knew who I was. When no one cared. When none of this mattered.”
I swallowed, my chest tightening.
“It’s worse now,” she whispered. “Everyone’s watching. Talking. Judging.”
“I can shut them up,” I said quietly, not sure if it would make a difference. “Anyone who says a word, I’ll handle it.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head again. “You’ll make it worse. Just… let me be for now.”
I clenched my fists, frustrated. I hated feeling helpless in front of her. My chest burned, wanting to hold her, to protect her from all the eyes and whispers, to tell her she didn’t have to face this alone. But I nodded, even though it left a hollow ache inside me.
The bell rang again. Another class started. Harper’s shoulders stiffened, and I stepped closer, wanting to walk with her. “Come on. I can help you get back there,” I offered.
“I need space,” she said quietly, glancing at me with a mixture of fear and trust. “If we’re together, it’ll make things worse. I just… I need time.”
I swallowed hard, wanting to argue, wanting to insist she let me stay close, but I knew she was right. I had to respect her boundaries.
“Why did you call me three times on Friday?” I asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said dismissively, opening the bathroom door and disappearing inside before I could say anything else.
I leaned against the wall, exhaling slowly. The frustration, the worry, the helplessness… it was suffocating.
I turned to go back to class, but then our eyes met. Mark. He was standing at the far end of the hallway, watching. I froze, unsure whether to explain or just let it be. Even from the distance, I could see his eyes were heavy with hurt, but he didn’t move. After a long moment, he turned and walked away.
I stayed where I was, my hands shaking slightly. I didn’t know how to fix this. I didn’t know how to make anything feel normal again. All I could do was wait, hoping Harper would come back out, hoping she would find a way to step back into the world, into class, into the space where she belonged.
And all I could do was hope I would be there when she did.