Chapter 235 Chapter Two Hundred And Thirty Five

Chapter 235 Chapter Two Hundred And Thirty Five
LENA'S POV

"Where..."

I woke up in my own bed the next morning, completely disoriented. My room. My floral bedspread. My desk cluttered with textbooks and college brochures.

It took me a while to get my bearings, blinking tiredly at the sunlight streaming through my curtains. The events of yesterday felt like a fever dream—the confrontation with Mr. Dawson, the tense family dinner, falling asleep against Jace's shoulder while Martin snored softly in the background.

I rubbed my eyes, groaning. Every muscle in my body was begging me to crawl back under the covers and sleep for another twelve hours. But school awaited, and I'd already missed enough tutoring sessions this week.

So I dragged myself out of bed, went through my morning routine on autopilot; shower, skincare, the works—and pulled on jeans and a simple sweater. Good enough.

When I headed downstairs, grabbing my backpack and a granola bar for breakfast, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Jace was already waiting there, leaning against his vintage Harley in the driveway like some kind of bad boy from a teen movie. He grinned when he saw me. "Hey, beautiful. I was starting to think maybe you were skipping school today."

"Hey." I walked over, still half-asleep. "Sorry, I guess I just woke up really late. Thanks for, you know, last night. For letting me crash."

"I mean, you were kind of drooling all over my shirt, so I had to move you." His eyes glinted with amusement. "Couldn't have you ruining my favorite Ramones tee."

I frowned, heat creeping up my neck. "You're so annoying."

"And yet here you are, still talking to me." He pushed off the bike, looking way too pleased with himself. "Must be my irresistible charm."

"Must be a lapse in judgment," I shot back, but I was smiling despite myself.

"I haven't seen your mom or dad all morning," I said, glancing back at the mansion. "Have you?"

"Nope." Jace shrugged. "The driver already took Martin to school about an hour ago. Looks like we're the only ones left in the house. They're probably still locked in their room having it out, or making up, or whatever the hell married people do after not seeing each other for three years."

"Oh. Okay." I shifted my backpack. "Well, in that case, I'll see you at school. I'm just going to wait here for Nicole—"

Jace gave me a look, grabbing his spare helmet from where it hung on the handlebar. He held it out to me. "Come on. I'll take you to school."

I scoffed, taking a step back. "Not on that death trap, you're not. I'll stay right here and wait till Nicole comes in her car, thank you very much. She owes me about a million rides this month anyway."

"But you know you're going to be late, right?" Jace dangled the helmet in front of me like bait. "And you hate being late."

I squinted at the bike, eyeing it like it might explode at any moment. The chrome gleamed in the morning sun, all sleek lines and barely contained power. "I don't know... I think I'll take my chances with Nicole."

"Don't worry, I promise nothing's going to happen." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to something softer, more sincere. "You have my word, Lena. I won't let anything happen to you."

"But—"

"Come on, you have that big meeting with Mr. Reeves today, right? Get there early, make a good impression. Show him you're serious about those Ivy League applications." He tilted his head, that infuriating smile playing at his lips. "Unless you want to show up late and flustered, smelling like Nicole's vanilla body spray and fast food because you know she's going to insist on hitting the drive-through."

I glared at him. "And now you're using school against me. That's a low blow. Fantastic."

"Is it working?"

I sighed, defeated. "Fine. But you have to promise to do the speed limit, okay? Like, actually follow traffic laws for once in your life."

"Really?" He looked almost offended. "You want me to go the speed limit? On this bike? That's like asking Michelangelo to paint stick figures."

"Yes, really. I'm the only kid my mom's got. If I die on this thing, what's she going to do? How's she going to pay rent? Who's going to take care of her when she's old?" I crossed my arms. "Promise me, Jace."

His expression softened. "Okay, okay. I promise. And for the record, you know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?" He handed me the helmet. "Besides, you shouldn't doubt me. I'm the best rider in the whole state. Haven't had a single accident since I got this baby."

"Probably because you bribe the cops," I muttered, but I took the helmet from him.

He laughed, rich and genuine. "You'll grow to love it. Don't worry."

I tried to get onto the bike and immediately almost fell off, my leg catching awkwardly on the seat. This was humiliating.

"Need help back there, princess?"

"No, I've got it," I huffed, finally managing to swing my leg over and settle onto the seat. I jammed the helmet on my head, fumbling with the chin strap, and sat as far back from Jace as physically possible.

"You sure you don't want to hold on to me?" I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Yep. I'm sure." I squeezed my eyes shut, my body rigid with fear. This was a mistake. This was definitely a mistake. Maybe I should just get off and—

Jace accelerated.

The bike shot forward and I was forced to grab onto him, my arms wrapping around his waist in a death grip. "Hey! You did that on purpose!"

"What's that, Lena?" he called back. "I can't hear you over the sound of this killer engine!"

I groaned, pressing my forehead against his back. Boys and their toys. Very dangerous toys. I would never understand his obsession with fast cars and motorcycles and whatever other death machines he collected. But holding onto Jace felt... nice. Solid. Safe, somehow, despite the fact that we were flying down the street at what felt like a hundred miles an hour.

Grudgingly, I held on a little tighter and hoped we'd get to school in one piece.

\---

We did.

Eventually, we pulled into the Westbrook Academy parking lot, and Jace killed the engine. My legs were shaking as he helped me off the bike, steadying me when I wobbled.

"See? That wasn't so bad." He pulled off his helmet, his hair adorably mussed.

"Speak for yourself," I muttered, but my heart was still racing—and not entirely from fear.

A few days ago, I'd been getting out of Noah's pristine Mercedes, and now here I was climbing off Jace Dawson's motorcycle. A bunch of onlooker students whispered, their phones already out.

"Oh my God, is that Lena Hartwell?"

"With Jace? I thought she was with Noah?"

"You know how it is—royalty has to stick together. Noah's disappeared, Allison's old news. They belong together."

"What a slut."

I bristled at that last one, my hands clenching into fists. I still wasn't used to the attention brought on by my transformation—the new clothes, the new body, the new status. It felt like being under a microscope, every move scrutinized and judged.

I fumbled with the belt loop of my jeans for a second, trying to steady myself, then steeled my spine and started walking through the crowd of students.

"Which one of you fucking assholes said that?"

Jace's voice cut through the parking lot like a whip. I turned to see him stalking behind me, his expression thunderous.

A hush fell over the crowd. Students scattered like leaves in the wind, suddenly very interested in their phones or their shoes or literally anything that wasn't Jace Dawson's death glare.

"No, Jace, it's okay." I reached back and grabbed his hand, pulling him along with me. "Let's just go. It's not worth it."

His hand was warm in mine, his fingers lacing through my own. For a moment, the anger in his expression softened.

I turned back around—

And nearly collided with Nicole.

"Hey, babe!" She was wearing her signature pink lip gloss and a denim jacket covered in pins. "I was just coming to find you. Have you heard any news from Noah? I texted him like fifty times yesterday and he hasn't—"

She trailed off, her eyes d
ropping to our joined hands. Her smile faltered.

"Lena," she said slowly, her voice carefully neutral. "What's going on?"