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Chapter Sixty-eight: Rewatching the Demo
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2025-07-19 15:45:29
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Hate You, Till I Don't Chapter Eighty – Hate You Until I Don’t
POV: Dual (Ave & Blake)AVEI didn’t expect the last day of summer to feel like this.Not like an ending.More like an opening — a door I’d kept locked in my chest finally giving way.I stood in front of the school’s greenhouse, sunlight soaking into the concrete beneath my feet, watching Blake wrestle with a tangled string of fairy lights he swore would make our “post-finals, no-longer-hating-each-other” party feel less nerdy.He looked ridiculous.And I loved him for it.The words still scared me, even now.Not because they weren’t true — they were, maddeningly so — but because I’d spent so long convincing myself I didn’t want this. Him. Us. That we were built only to clash, not to connect.But somewhere between all the fights and the late-night builds, the near-kisses and the actual ones, the shared panic attacks and tiny moments of silence where everything made sense... I stopped hating him.And I started hoping.“I swear,” Blake muttered, “these lights have it out for me.”“You’r
Hate You, Till I Don't Chapter Seventy-nine: Building Something Real
POV: AveIt didn’t feel like a fairytale.There were no fireworks. No grand declarations. No background piano scoring the moment their fingers brushed over soldering irons and freshly-cut acrylic panels. Just Blake, in his second-favorite hoodie, grease smudged near his jawline — and Ave, barefoot on the carpet of her bedroom, dragging wires between them.They were building another prototype.Not for a school project. Not for points. Not to win.But just because they wanted to.Because something about working side-by-side — even now, especially now — felt like breathing.Ave glanced at him from the corner of her eye, watching the way his brows knit in concentration. He was sitting cross-legged on her rug, a 3D print file open on his laptop screen. The light from her desk lamp threw gold across his lashes. There was a curl to his mouth, not quite a smile but not quite neutral either — like he was content. Like he was home.She swallowed.This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were suppos
Hate You, Till I Don't Chapter Seventy-eight: The Real Kiss
POV: BlakeThe campus was nearly deserted.Golden sunlight spilled over the walkways in long ribbons, catching on the empty benches and glinting against the library’s high windows. Summer had officially begun, but Blake’s heart hadn’t caught up yet.He stood by the stone steps outside the east wing, pacing slowly, clutching two chilled bottled drinks. His heart was pounding in a way it hadn’t since the final results were announced. Not from nerves about the project. Or the judges. Or the future.This time, it was all Ave.She had texted him “Let’s talk.”Just that. No punctuation. No emojis. But her name alone on his screen had made his lungs stop working.It had been weeks since the last proper moment between them—since that argument, since the silence, since the accidental brush of fingers when they passed a tablet between them, pretending nothing was wrong. Then came the quiet dinner, the top 2 reveal, the final stage, the win...But not them.Not yet.He heard footsteps and looked
Hate You, Till I Don't Chapter Seventy-seven: Confession Over Coffee
POV: AveThe coffee shop was too quiet for what her heart was doing.Ave sat at the table by the window, nursing a drink that had gone lukewarm ten minutes ago. Her fingers circled the rim of the ceramic cup, tracing the tiny chip near the handle. The scent of roasted beans clung to the air, thick and warm, but it did nothing to steady her nerves.Blake was late. By six minutes.And she hated that she knew that.Hated even more that her brain kept rewriting this meet-up into something it wasn’t. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t a makeup session. It was just… coffee. A break. A detente in the middle of whatever this war-torn friendship had become.The bell above the door jingled.Ave looked up. He was there.And just like always, her breath caught.Blake wore a soft gray sweater under his jacket, sleeves pushed up to his forearms, his dark hair slightly messy from the wind outside. His eyes scanned the room, pausing the second they landed on her.And then he smiled. A small, uneven smile. N
Hate You, Till I Don't Chapter Seventy-six: The Summer Begins
POV: BlakeThe first morning after the results came out felt like waking up in someone else’s life.Blake stared at the ceiling for a full five minutes before he even moved. His room was the same. The sun still filtered through the cracked blinds. His desk still had the same half-drunk mug of cold coffee. His phone was still face-down on the pillow beside him.But everything was different.The competition was over.They’d won.The team group chat had exploded last night — confetti emojis, screaming GIFs, Nia’s all-caps voice messages, and someone (probably Greg) sending a bad Photoshop of the trophy sitting on top of a pile of pizza boxes. Ave had sent a quiet “Thanks, everyone. We did it.” Nothing more.But she had replied.And that alone made Blake’s chest loosen just a little.He rolled onto his side, reaching for the phone. A new message blinked at him from her. Just one line:> Do you want to meet? Just us.Blake’s fingers hovered over the screen for a beat too long. Then he type
Hate You, Till I Don't Chapter Seventy-five: Ave’s Voice
POV: AveShe didn’t realize she was shaking until she had to grip the edge of the podium.The room wasn’t packed, but it felt full. Full of eyes. Full of pressure. Full of the exact kind of tension Ave had tried to avoid her whole life — the kind that demanded she speak.Not write.Not code.But speak.Ave cleared her throat quietly and lowered the mic a little. It squeaked — a shrill sound that echoed across the tech conference hall like a glitch in an otherwise perfect simulation. Her fingers curled into the wood.Behind her, the final prototype blinked to life.Polished. Clean.Their work.And by "their," she meant hers and Blake’s and the entire team. But this presentation — this moment — belonged to her.He’d told her that.Blake had looked her dead in the eye before she went up and said, “No one else should be the voice for this. You’re the story, Ave. Not just the script.”So she’d stepped forward.Now, standing here, with a hundred faces watching and the silence thick as code,
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