Masuk
CALLA
This summer felt like a movie. Sun on my skin, water in my hair. Late night swims in the lake behind the summer house while our parents drank wine on the deck, and Miles cannon balled into the water drenching me completely. I splashed back at him, laughing, but his grin was infuriating. He moves like he is always on the ice, fast, deliberate, and impossible to catch off guard. We have done summers together since kindergarten. Our families vacation every year like it’s tradition. Same place, same inside jokes, same two families tangled together as if fate had it planned. But this year was different. Miles looked at me differently after what felt like forever. It started small. A hand lingering at the small of my back when he passed by in the kitchen. A knee pressing against mine at the table. The way his eyes held mine a second too long when he said my name. “Cal.” Only he called me that. Then, one night, everything changed. We were on the dock past midnight. I was talking about college applications, senior year, how weird it feels that everything is ending... and he just watched. Not distracted, not teasing how much of an obsessive nerd I am... he just stared at me. “What?” I laughed, nervous. He shook his head slowly. “You have the prettiest eyes I have ever seen.” “What?” This time, my lips quivered a little. Miles never said such things to me. Ever. I was apprehensive, and then he leaned closer. Something inside me snapped and my mind screamed when his warm breath filtered into my skin. When he kissed me, it wasn’t rushed or messy. It was precise and certain and warm. His hands moved through my hair as if they belonged there. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. This is it, I thought. After all these years. After watching him date girls who didn’t see him the way I do. After listening to him complain about them. After telling myself timing just hadn’t been right. This is it. And then we crossed every line we had tiptoed around since we were thirteen. Every glance he gave me afterward made me feel chosen. I was foolish enough to believe it would all last. Now, standing in my driveway the night before senior year starts, I can feel it slipping through my fingers. He won’t meet my eyes. “Calla,” he says quietly. My stomach drops. He only says my name like that when he is about to say something serious. “I have been thinking.” Not good. I wrap my arms around myself. “Okay.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “That night on the dock.… and everything after… it wasn’t a mistake.” Hope rises stubbornly as I imagine starting off senior year as Miles Bennett’s girlfriend. Finally. “But,” he continues gently, “I don’t think we should make it more than it was.” More than it was? “I don’t... um... what was it?” I ask before I can stop myself. He exhales. “It was a summer fling, Cal. We were both caught up and it just happened.” It just happened, like tripping in the rain. Not like years of silent longing, not like all those nights I dreamed he would notice me had finally come true. “I thought you said you weren’t hiding how you felt about me anymore,” I remind him, my voice steadier than I feel. I can literally feel my heart challenging every vein holding it steady. “I know,” he steps closer, lowering his voice. “I meant that at the time. I just…. things with Brina aren’t as done as I thought.” There it is. Always Sabrina Holt. “She came over yesterday,” he says quickly. “We talked and I realized I might have rushed things.” I swallow something bitter that aches all the way to my stomach as reality hits. I was the impulse, the fun distraction. “I don’t regret what happened between us,” he adds, touching my wrist. I almost pull away. “I care about you more than anyone. You know that.” My throat tightens. “I just don’t want to ruin us over something that wasn’t meant to be serious.” Wasn’t meant to be serious? I stare at him, my verbal ability completely ripped out. It would be easier if I could look away but my brain is too heavy to perform even such an easy task. He steps closer carefully. “Tomorrow is the first day of senior year. I don’t want things to be awkward. I don’t want to lose you over this.” Wow. I never thought anyone could act so cool while breaking a heart. “Don’t look at me like that,” he adds with a nervous chuckle. “Say something?” Like what? Broken? Angry? Desperate? And say what? I swallow hard. “Okay.” He searches my eyes, trying to convince himself he is doing the right thing. Maybe he believes he is, and that’s what makes it worse. “You are my best friend, Cal,” he says. “That’s never changing.” Best friend. That word sounds wrong. I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. He squeezes my wrist once more, then steps back. “We are good? You are not mad at me?” The question hangs in the air. God, I want to punch him in the face, dismantle his perfect jawline, butthead his runway model nose, and maybe smash his teeth in. But I force a perfect smile. “We are good,” I whisper. Relief washes over his face. That’s what breaks me. He smiles softly, grateful, and starts leaving. I stand there still silent, trying to figure out how something so big could shrink into this. Then he stops. Part of me hopes he feels bad and wants to take everything back. Only for him to pull out the only string holding me together. “By the way, can we keep what happened between us private? Brina can’t find out. You know she is not as understanding as you are.” Oh, sure. Make me feel like a dirty mistress too, Miles. I can take it. “Mm-hmm.” I nod, biting my lip because I’m trying not to give the mess I am away. “Great! You are the best, Cal. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” “Yeah, see you.” I don’t clock how long I stand there, or when I walk past my parents in the kitchen, to my bedroom. There, the tears I have held back entirely break free. I sob uncontrollably into my pillow, muffling the sound because I don’t want anyone knowing how humiliated I feel. Then, my phone pings. I grab it, once again reviving some hope. I don’t learn, do I? Brina Holt tagged me in a post. I freeze, then I open it. Miles is kissing her. He is wearing the same shirt he wore minutes ago. The caption reads, “Back where we always belonged.” I get another notification, this time from Miles. His caption reads, “My cheerleader. No one can come between what was meant to be.” That douchebag! It was posted two minutes ago. He didn’t go home to think. He went straight to her after breaking my heart into a million pieces, and didn’t even realize it. I stare at the screen until the image blurs. I really thought I mattered. Turns out I was just a chapter he skimmed past.RYDERWhen I step onto the ice, the familiar chill hits me like a homecoming.This is my rink. My team. Some of the guys nod or clap me on the shoulder when I skate out. Others, the ones who orbit Miles, barely glance my way. Jake keeps his head down, acting like I’m not even here. I get it. He must be feeling like I’m replacing him even though I’m not. I’m just reclaiming the spot that was mine before everything went to hell. He knows it. Everyone does.My legs feel strong, my hands are steady, thanks to the regular practice out there. The adjustment here is more mental than physical— remembering the rhythm of these players, the way they move.Coach blows the whistle before practice even starts and skates over, his phone pressed to his ear. “I have an emergency,” he calls out. “Miles, you’re in charge. Keep things organized and productive. No bullshit.”Miles nods once. “Yes, Coach.”The second the door closes behind the coach, I know what’s coming. Miles skates to the center, takin
RYDERI spend the rest of the afternoon after lunch half watching Calla without really trying to.Part of me is still stuck on that photo. Who the hell would do that? And why her? I have been turning it over since lunch, trying to figure out if it’s random or if someone actually has a reason to mess with her. Either way, it sits wrong. I keep catching myself looking for her just to make sure she is okay.She doesn’t look away anymore. Not like before.Our eyes catch across the room or in the hallway and she just holds it a second longer than she used to. Sometimes the corner of her mouth lifts softly, like she knows she shouldn’t but does it anyway. It’s nothing that would make anyone look twice but it still hits me harder than it should. We are still keeping this private. That was the deal. Still, she is not treating me like something embarrassing anymore.I’m at my locker after classes, spinning the combination, when she and Brina walk past. Calla is looking straight ahead until I c
RYDER I get to the old classroom block first. Calla is nowhere in sight. I lean against the wall, arms crossed, trying not to check the time every ten seconds. She is probably looking for a way to slip away from Miles and Brina without raising suspicion. It’s ridiculous, this whole secret date thing. All I want is— I shake the thought away. I knew what I was signing up for. My mind keeps drifting back to what happened this morning. The way Miles came at me in front of everyone, accusing me of being some kind of stalker. I still have no clue what’s that about. Sitting through classes thinking about it was a painful experience. I kept hearing the anger in his voice and the crowd watching. And Calla... she stepped in and stopped it from turning into an actual fight. I appreciate that more than she probably realizes. I was holding myself back for her sake, but I was seconds away from defending myself if he threw the first punch. Still, it sucks being the secret especially in moments
CALLAI barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, those headlights appeared again in my rearview mirror, too persistent. By morning I was exhausted both physically and mentally. I almost told my parents at breakfast, but the words stuck in my throat. What would I even say? That someone followed me home? They would probably brush it off or turn it into another lecture about being responsible. Driving to school was even worse. I double checked my mirrors the entire drive, expecting that car to show up.I’m walking across the senior yard toward my first class, when someone suddenly grabs me from behind. I nearly jump out of my skin, letting out a sharp gasp as I whip around. Miles and Brina are standing there, both of them laughing. Miles’s smile fades quickly when he sees my face.“Whoa, Calla. You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”My heart is still hammering. I force a breath and decide to just say it. “Actually... no. Something weird happened yesterday after I left the game.”I t
CALLAI’m still flushed and a little disoriented when I pull myself together in Ryder’s room, smoothing down my top and trying to fix my hair in the mirror on his dresser. “I should probably head home,” I say quietly.Ryder sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt back on. “You sure? It’s not that late.”Before I can answer, his dad’s voice carries down the hallway again. “Don’t rush Calla away. She should stay for dinner.”Ryder raises his eyebrows at me, a small grin tugging at his lips. “No pressure... but Dad bought extra on purpose. He does that when he thinks I have company.”“Do you do that a lot?” I ask. “Have company.”He shrugs. “Kyle and the guys visit sometimes.”Okay. Perhaps they are a little more closer than I first thought if they know Ryder's home. I’m not sure what to feel especially—“Don’t worry. It’s nothing close to how I feel hanging out with you. Just you.” His words cut through my thoughts.“What?”“You were frowning,” Ryder says, standing and offering
CALLA I lie curled against Ryder’s chest, the steady thump of his heartbeat under my ear. His arm is wrapped around me, warm and loose, like he is giving me space to pull away if I need it. We are both breathing hard, skin flushed and a little sticky where we have been pressed together.His mouth on my skin feels so good. Too good.I close my eyes and try to stay right here in this moment— his clean scent, the way his fingers trace lines on my shoulder, the low sound he makes when I shift my leg against his. But the second my eyes shut, Miles flashes behind my eyelids. The way he used to smile at me after games. The summer nights we hooked up. The way he looked at me like I was just his best friend again when it was all over.My stomach twists. Guilt crashes over me so fast I almost pull away.Ryder must feel the sudden tension in my body because his hand stills. “Hey,” he says softly. “You okay? We can stop. Seriously.”I open my eyes and look up at him. His face is close, pupils da
CALLAI try to ignore the lingering heat of Ryder’s touch from yesterday, but it’s impossible. Every time I take a step, every time I bend to grab a book from my locker, I feel it there, a small, unsettling weight I can’t shake. I tell myself it’s nothing but just a little accident I should get ove
CALLAThe worst part about heartbreak isn’t crying. It’s showing up the next morning and pretending nothing happened.The hallway is loud with lockers slamming and laughter echoing through the building. Senior year banners and hockey tryouts posters are taped above the lockers and on walls. Of cour
CALLAWith all due respect,” I say carefully, “I don’t think—”“It’s non-negotiable, Miss Pierce,” he interrupts gently. “This arrangement works to both your benefit. You are in need of additional academic credit this semester, are you not?”Heat floods my face. I nod yes, because while my grades a
CALLAI follow Ryder down the hall, my backpack tight against my shoulder. He doesn’t say a word other than “let's try a different study spot”. He just walks, purposefully and confidently. I keep up, my heart thumping, trying not to let the knot in my stomach betray me.He opens a door at the far e







