Chapter 33 TYLER
Stubborn—that was one way to describe Harper still following me home for the sessions after our blow-up in class. Even after I’d outright told her she was fired.
“Your mom hired me, not you.”
That had been her response—along with a threat to tell my mom how ‘difficult’ and ‘demeaning’ I was being. So here we were, me driving her home again with no choice in the matter.
I glanced at my bedside alarm clock. The others were supposed to be here already so we could start this stupid project. But of all days, they just had to pick today to be late.
From external and internal rotations… to towel slides on the wall… back to external rotations and range-of-motion drills—Harper wasn’t messing around with today’s session. No mercy. No warmth. Just clinical precision.
“Can we take a break?” I groaned, pressing my good hand into my casted shoulder to ease the throbbing. “It’s been an hour of non-stop exercises.”
“You want to speed up the healing process, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but don’t I need time to recuperate at least?”
She didn’t even look at me, her fingers firm on my forearm as she guided the rotation. “When it’s time to rest, I’ll say so.”
I clenched my jaw, half from the pain, half because she was being a menace in skirts. And the worst part was I’d asked for it. My harsh words had paved the way to my own destruction.
Thankfully, the door to my room slammed open, and Peter stepped in first—black tank top, cargo shorts, zero situational awareness.
“Who missed us?” he grinned.
Jax and Cassie followed him in, equally casual. Cassie waved like we weren’t in the middle of a torture session.
“Glad to see you two haven’t killed each other,” she chirped.
“Not under Mama Rose’s watch,” Jax said, dragging out my desk chair to sit. The scrape of the legs against my tiles sent a spike of irritation up my spine.
Peter chuckled, wandering toward the bed where Harper still stood practically between my knees. “You know, if I didn’t know she was helping you with physio, I’d assume something sexual was going on here.”
Cassie laughed. “Yeah, I can totally see that.”
Harper immediately stepped back, dropping my arm like it had burned her. “That’s why we ask questions before making assumptions.”
Peter raised both hands like he was staring down a cop. I eased myself further back into the pillows, letting the ache settle. I wanted to comment, but my shoulder was still pulsing, so silence won.
“So… what’s the plan, director?” he asked.
Harper grabbed a notepad she’d been filling out on the drive over. Everyone quieted, watching her flip through the pages slowly.
Too slow.
I cleared my throat loudly. She shot me an annoyed glance, then continued flipping. I glared at my friends—if that’s what they still were—hoping someone would call her out. Nope.
Peter was busy scrolling through his phone, while Cassie had wandered over to Jax, whispering about God-knows-what like they weren’t in my room, invading my peace.
My jaw clenched. My shoulder throbbed. Harper’s silence dragged.
I cleared my throat again, the sound loud enough to draw their attention. “Everyone’s waiting—”
“So, I have a few topic suggestions,” Harper bulldozed right over me, like the queen of interruption. I knew she’d been waiting to do that on purpose.
I inhaled and counted to three, already regretting having a pulse today.
“I’ll read them out, and whichever gets the most votes wins. Cool?”
“Aight,” Peter said, locking his phone and crossing his arms like he was suddenly the picture of focus.
Funny how he could show up for a school project, but showing up when it actually mattered? Now that was asking too much.
“Cassie? Jax?”
They shut up mid-sentence like she’d issued a military command. My eye twitched. The power balance was really doing things to my blood pressure.
“I’m down,” Jax said, scooting my chair closer to the bed with another god-awful screech. He winced at my glare.
“We’re all ears,” Cassie added, hopping onto my desk—my desk—swinging her legs like she owned the place.
I pressed my lips together to hold the complaints inside. This was already too much. I should have argued when Harper invited them home because of my sessions. Never again.
“Okay,” Harper said, clearing her throat. “Option A—Bullying Culture & Cliques. Option B—Mental Health & Burnout. Option C—The Illusion of Popularity. Option D—Friendship Breakdowns. Thoughts?”
Her gaze swept the group. When her eyes landed on me, neither of us blinked. We stared, tension coiled tight between us—until Peter chimed in:
“Personally, I’d say friendship breakdowns. It’s huge. Important. People need to see how that affects school and life.”
“Of course he’d choose that topic,” I snorted. Loud and bitter. “No one studies damage like the person who caused it.”
Peter stiffened. “Come on, Cap. You wanna do this now? Seriously?”
Harper didn’t let the moment breathe. “We’re not doing anything except sharing opinions. Keep going.”
Jax shrugged. “I second Peter’s option. Kinda fits whatever disaster’s happening in this group right now.”
Cassie sighed softly. “Yeah. Maybe talking about friendship could… I dunno. Help.”
“That’s three votes,” Harper said, fully turning her body toward me. “Care to contribute? Or are you in support?”
“Do you really want my honest opinion?”
“Entertain me,” she replied, chin lifting like she wanted a fight.
I dropped my legs to the floor and pushed myself upright, ignoring the dull scream in my shoulder. I kept my stare locked on hers.
“While I agree the topics are valid…” I paused, letting the room sit in silence long enough for Peter to mutter a warning about me starting something, “I also think they’re all painfully cliché. ‘High school hurts’—congratulations, that’s every documentary ever made by a teenager. I expected the resident genius to have come up with something better.”
Cassie hand slapped her mouth. Jax let out a slow whistle.
Harper’s expression didn’t shift an inch. Calm as glass. Unbothered. But I could feel the slight change in the air, like she was bracing for impact.
“Got a better suggestion?” she asked.
I rose to my feet, stepping forward until she had to tilt her head up to keep eye contact.
“As a matter of fact—” I said, voice low, edgy, “I do.”