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홈 / MM Romance / Project Heartbreak / 49

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49

작가: J. Starling
last update 게시일: 2026-04-15 22:43:08

A soft knock sounded on the door behind my head.

I flinched, holding my breath.

“Elliot?” Orhan’s voice was small, muffled by the door.

“Go away, Orhan,” I said, my voice thick and watery. “I’m not in the mood for you.”

There was a pause. I could practically hear him thinking on the other side of the door.

“You’re crying,” he stated.

“I’m not.”

“You are. I can tell. Your vocal cords are constricted. Your voice is doing the wobbly thing it does when Mom watches those sad movies.”

I let out a wet
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  • Project Heartbreak   55

    I woke up late today. My room was a disaster zone of half-filled boxes and piles of clothes I couldn’t decide if I needed. It was overwhelming. I just stared at the chaos, feeling utterly, profoundly lazy.My phone was dead. I plugged it in, dragged myself through a shower, and pulled on clean clothes.The house was quiet. Mom had left a plate of pancakes under a glass dome on the counter. Orhan was nowhere to be seen. Probably in the backyard, conducting unspeakable experiments on the local ant population. I ate standing up, then collapsed on the living room couch, flipping on some mindless movie.I fell into that weird, daytime TV trance, where you’re not really watching, just letting the noise and colors wash over you. I glanced at the clock on the DVD player.4:07 PM.My brain stalled. 4 PM? How? The entire day had evaporated. A panicky jolt went through me. My phone. I’d completely forgotten about it, charging in my room.I headed to my room, my heart starting a weird, irregular

  • Project Heartbreak   54

    Finals came. The pressure was a welcome distraction. I saw Asher sometimes, limping through the halls on crutches, his sunny demeanor dimmed but still present. He’d give me a small, acknowledging nod, and I’d return it. There was a strange, unspoken understanding between us now.And I saw Jax.He was back at school a week after the tournament. He moved differently. He looked tired. There were shadows under his eyes that hadn’t been there before. We’d pass in the hallway, and for a split second, his gaze would flicker to me. It wasn’t the intense, possessive stare from before. It was something heavier. More resigned. A look that held all the words we’d never say. I never approached him. He never approached me. We were two satellites in decaying orbits, destined to drift apart.Finals ended. The relief was immense, but it left a vacuum. Suddenly, there was nothing to outrun.My homeroom teacher, Mrs. Gable, called me into her office. She had my results spread out on her desk. “Elliot,”

  • Project Heartbreak   53

    The next time I surfaced, the world had shifted. The crushing weight was gone, replaced by a deep, body-aching weakness, like I’d been run over by a truck and then put back together. But I could move my limbs without feeling like they were made of concrete.I shuffled to the bathroom, my reflection in the mirror giving me a fright. Pale, dark circles under my eyes, hair a disaster. I looked like I’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion.The smell of toast led me to the kitchen. Orhan was at the table, a pair of craft scissors in one hand and the local newspaper spread out before him. He wasn’t reading the articles. He was cutting out a picture of Asher Hayes from a sports section photo of the soccer team. He had a small, growing pile of them.I didn’t have the energy. I just didn’t. I walked past him, grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and chugged half of it, the cool liquid a miracle on my ragged throat.As I leaned against the counter, the ghost of a memory surfaced. The

  • Project Heartbreak   52

    For a long moment, the only sound was my ragged, hitching breaths. I stood there, exposed and raw, waiting for the final blow. For him to laugh. To sneer. To confirm that it was all a game.He didn’t.Instead, I saw his own composure crack. The icy mask shattered, and what was underneath was just… pain. Raw, unvarnished pain. He took a step towards me, his hand coming up, reaching for me.“Elliot…” His voice was a wreck, a broken whisper.He tried to pull me into an embrace.It was the last thing I expected. The warmth, the solidness of him, the scent that still made my stupid heart clench. It was a siren’s call, promising a shelter from the storm he himself had created. For a split second, my body swayed towards his, a traitorous instinct seeking comfort from its tormentor.But then my mind screamed, a final, desperate alarm.I shoved him away. My hands flat against his chest, pushing with all the strength I had left. “Don’t, Jax,” I said, my voice trembling but clear. He stumbled b

  • Project Heartbreak   51

    “What do I do?” The question came out small and pathetic. “What am I supposed to do now?”Ben looked at the ground, scuffing his shoe against the asphalt. “I don’t know, man. Maybe... maybe go to the principal?”“And say what?” Maya snapped, her frustration boiling over. “‘Hey, everyone’s calling me a pervert, make it stop’? That’ll just make it look like we’re panicking. We need a plan.”A plan. Right. Because I was so good at those. My grand plan to get close to Asher had ended with me being publicly branded a predatory thief. My track record was not great.Then my phone buzzed in my pocket.We all froze. I pulled it out slowly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The screen glowed.JAX.My thumb hovered over the screen. I hit ‘decline’ and shoved the phone back into my pocket.“Who was it?” Ben asked, though he’d clearly seen the screen.“Nobody,” I muttered.Maya’s eyes narrowed. “Was it him? Was it Jax?”I didn’t answer. The phone started buzzing again, relentless. JAX.“Pick it

  • Project Heartbreak   50

    Monday arrived with the grim finality of a jail sentence. The weekend felt like a bizarre dream, but the ache in my body and the hollow feeling in my chest were brutally real. Radio silence. No texts. No calls. No angry, possessive boy showing up at my window.My resolve hardened into a cold, brittle thing. He had been the one to twist everything into something ugly in that car. He had been the one to insult the fragile, real feelings that had started to grow. So, fine. Let him. I would never text first. I would never talk first. I would never, ever approach him first. The ball was so far in his court.The final match was this Saturday. If they won, they’d go to the capital for the nationals which is a months-long tournament. I’d be buried in finals, then university applications. The world would move on. This… whatever it is… would be swept away and forgotten, a strange, painful blip in my senior year. The thought should have been a relief, but it felt like a death sentence.I was los

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