Chapter 131 TYLER
I stared at the board, but the words didn’t stay long enough to mean anything.
They blurred, shifted, disappeared.
I blinked slowly, trying to force my focus back, but it kept slipping. My chest felt tight, like if I let myself breathe properly, something else would come out with it.
Tears.
And that was the last thing I needed.
I pressed my lips together and lowered my gaze to my notebook, pretending to read over what I had written earlier. The ink stared back at me, useless.
I wasn’t going to cry.
Not here.
Not in front of people who would turn it into something else before lunch break.
I blinked again, faster this time.
Get it together.
The classroom was loud in that usual before-class way. People talking, chairs dragging, laughter breaking out in random corners. It made it easier to hide, at least.
Until someone stepped into my space.
I felt it before I looked up.
Then I did and saw Racquel.
She pulled out the chair in front of my desk and sat down like she belonged there.
Something inside me snapped into place immediately. My face hardened before I could even think about it.
“If you’re here to gloat,” I said, my voice low, “or pick on me, you should rethink it. I’m really not in the mood today.”
She shook her head quickly. “No. That’s not why I’m here.”
I let out a short breath. “Then what do you want?”
She hesitated, like she was choosing her words carefully. That alone annoyed me.
“I came to apologize,” she said.
I actually laughed.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not,” she replied. “I mean it. For everything. For how I treated you before. And… for what’s happening now.”
I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms. “What’s happening now?”
Her gaze dropped for a second before she looked back at me. “The situation with Tyler. I know it’s causing problems.”
“Problems?” I echoed. “That’s what you’re calling it?”
“I’m not trying to make things worse,” she said. “I just… I needed you to know that nothing is going on between me and him.”
I rolled my eyes before she could even finish. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I’m serious.”
“Stop,” I cut in. “Just stop acting like you suddenly turned into a good person overnight. It’s weird.”
Her expression didn’t change much, which almost made it worse.
“I’m not pretending,” she said. “I know I don’t deserve for you to believe me right now. But I’m trying.”
“Trying what?” I asked. “To make yourself feel better?”
“To do better,” she replied.
I let out a quiet scoff. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
She nodded slowly. “That’s fair.”
That threw me off a little.
She didn’t argue. Didn’t push.
Just accepted it.
“I’ll prove it,” she added after a second.
I didn’t respond.
I didn’t even know what to say to that.
She stood up, smoothing her skirt slightly. “You don’t have to forgive me now. Or ever. I just needed to say it.”
I watched her for a moment, waiting for something else. A smirk. A comment. Something that would make this make sense.
Nothing came.
She turned and walked away like the conversation actually meant something.
I stared at the empty chair she left behind, my brows pulling together.
“Right,” I muttered under my breath.
Like I was supposed to believe that.
I looked back down at my notebook and forced myself to read again.
It didn’t work.
My mind drifted right back to the hallway.
To Tyler.
To everything he said.
To everything he didn’t say.
I pressed my pen harder against the page than necessary. Was I overreacting?
The question slipped in before I could stop it.
I paused.
No.
Another part of me answered immediately.
He lied to you.
He’s keeping secrets for her.
That mattered.
That should matter.
But then another thought followed right after, quieter.
He said it was serious.
He said he was trying to keep you out of it.
I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my chair.
“God,” I whispered.
Why did this have to be complicated?
A burst of laughter pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up instinctively and my gaze landed on the corner of the classroom.
Peter sat on one of the desks, surrounded by his hockey friends, completely relaxed like nothing in the world could touch him.
For a second, I considered it; Just walking over there and asking.
He would know something.
Tyler trusted him. If there was anything to find out, it would be through him.
I could just—
“Alright, everyone, settle down.”
The teacher’s voice cut through the room, and just like that, the moment passed.
People groaned lightly but started taking their seats.
I looked down at my notebook again.
Forget it.
I’d figure it out later.
Class started, and I tried.
I really did.
I listened for the first few minutes, nodding along, pretending to follow whatever was being explained.
Then my mind wandered again.
Back to the same place.
What could be so bad that Tyler couldn’t tell me?
What was going on in Racquel’s house that made all of this necessary?
And why did it feel like no matter what I told myself, it still hurt the same?
I shut my eyes briefly.
This was useless.
I couldn’t sit here like this.
I raised my hand slightly. “Can I go to the bathroom?”
The teacher barely looked at me before nodding. “Make it quick.”
I stood up immediately, grabbing my phone and slipping out of the classroom before I could change my mind.
The hallway was quiet like I expected. A few students here and there, but nothing loud.
Good.
I ran a hand through my hair as I walked, trying to clear my head.
It didn’t help.
Nothing was helping.
I turned the corner toward the girls’ bathroom, my thoughts still tangled, when suddenly—
A hand grabbed my wrist.
I barely had time to react before I was pulled into the space between two lockers, away from the open hallway.
“What—”
The rest of my words disappeared just as Tyler's hand cupped my face, and his lips crashed against mine.
It wasn't gentle. Not even close.
It was messy, fast, like he needed it more than air, and I needed it too. My chest felt too full, my stomach too empty, and somehow every nerve in me was screaming at once.
Words, thoughts, control—everything tangled together until I couldn’t tell one from the other.
I kissed him back without thinking, my fingers gripping his shirt as I leaned into him. It felt like slipping into a rhythm my body had been waiting for.
When he finally pulled back, I was breathing a little harder than I wanted to admit.
“You’ve been asking me to prove it,” he said quietly.
I blinked, still trying to catch up. “Prove what?”
“That you’re not second,” he replied. “That I’m not choosing you after anything else.”
My heart skipped, even though I didn’t want it to.
“And?” I asked.
He held my gaze. “Come with me. Right now.”
I frowned slightly. “Where?”
“Rooftop,” he said. “That movie date you wanted. We can do it now.”
For a second, I just stared at him.
Then heat crept up my face before I could stop it.
Right now?
“You’re serious?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
I hesitated. “We have classes.”
He gave a small shrug. “It’s free period to me.”
“Tyler,” I muttered, nudging him. “Even if it was, we’ve got plenty of time after school—no need to hurry.”
He went quiet.
My eyes narrowed, almost about to ask what the problem was, before it all clicked.
I stepped back slightly, my expression changing. “Let me guess.”
He didn’t answer.
“You have something to do,” I continued. “Something involving Racquel.”
“Harper—”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Don’t even try to spin it.”
“That’s not what this is,” he said. “I’m trying to spend time with you.”
“Are you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Because this doesn’t feel like that,” I replied. “It feels like you’re trying to fit me into whatever space is left after you’re done with her.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” I snapped, my voice rising slightly before I forced it back down. “You’re asking me to skip classes just so I can match your schedule. The same schedule you’re building around her.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “That’s not what I’m doing.”
I let out a small, humorless laugh. “You’re right.”
He looked at me, confused.
“It’s not what you’re doing,” I continued. “It’s what I’m allowing. And I just realized I’m not interested in that.”
“Harper—”
“I have a class to go to,” I said, cutting him off.
“Just listen—”
“No,” I replied. “You listen.”
He stopped.
“I’m not asking you to stop helping her,” I said. “Do whatever you want. But don’t expect me to keep adjusting myself around it like it doesn’t affect me.”
His expression tightened. “I’m not asking you to do that.”
“You just did,” I said.
Silence stretched between us.
Neither of us moved.
Just then a crackle filled the hallway.
The intercom.
“Tyler Mercer. Racquel Lawson, report to the principal’s office immediately.”
I froze, giving him a questioning look, half expecting him to explain, half already knowing he wouldn’t.
He didn't.
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head. “Of course.”
“Harper—”
“Go,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re being called.”
He opened his mouth but thought better of it, then turned and walked away.
My head fell back against the wall as I swallowed the burn in my throat and I felt the first tear slip.