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The First Fight

Author: Grace Blake
last update publish date: 2026-07-06 04:27:48

JADE

It’s Monday. Marcus left yesterday. The house feels bigger now. Emptier.

I walk home from class, phone pressed to my ear. Nina’s voice crackles through.

“So he just asked you? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah.” I kick a pebble off the sidewalk. “Cole. From mycinematography class. The one with the good lighting notes.”

“The tall one?”

“No, the other one. Blond. Quiet.”

“Oh, him.” Nina pauses. “What did you say?”

“I said yes.” I stop at the crosswalk. Wait for the light. “Now I don’t know what to wear.”

I glance across the street. At Derek’s building. The penthouse windows are dark. Curtains drawn.

Too quiet.

The light changes. I cross and head up the steps to my house. Unlock the door. Step inside.

“Okay,” Nina says, “what about that green dress? The one with the low back?”

I drop my bag by the door. “I forgot I had something like that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck.” Nina’s voice is firm. “You’ll do great. Just be yourself. And don’t mention Derek.”

I laugh. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

We hang up. I head upstairs. Shower. Fix my hair. Find the green dress in the back of my closet. It fits. Still fits.

An hour later, I’m ready. I check my reflection. Take a breath. Head downstairs.

I open the front door and see a red car parked outside. Cole’s car. He’s standing in front of it, hands in his pockets. Blond hair catches the late afternoon sun. He’s wearing a dark jacket and clean jeans. He looks nervous. Cute, but nervous.

He smiles when he sees me. Walks around to the passenger side. Opens the door.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey.”

I slide into the seat. The leather is cold against my legs. He closes the door and walks around to the driver’s side.

I buckle my seatbelt. Look out the window. At Derek’s building. Still dark.

Cole gets in. Starts the engine.

I can’t shake the uneasy feeling in my chest.

DEREK

I pull up to my building just as the red car pulls away from Marcus’s house.

I don’t see who got in. But that car definitely left from in front of Marcus’s door.

Did she go out?

I don’t bother with the garage. I park right there on the street and walk to Marcus’s house in a few long strides.

Knock once. Twice.

No answer.

I turn the handle. Locked.

She locked it. Finally.

But I have the keycard Marcus gave me. I swipe it. The door clicks open.

I step inside.

The house smells like perfume. Something floral. And the air feels different—like someone just left. A warmth still hanging around.

Why do I have a bad feeling about where she’s going?

I can’t pin point it. But something is off.

I turn around, lock the door behind me, and head straight back to my car.

I climb in and pull out my phone. Find her name. Call.

It rings once. Twice.

Declined.

She declined.

I don’t leave a voicemail. Instead, I scroll to another contact. Glen. Hit call.

It picks up on the second ring.

“Track a red sedan,” I say. No hello. No time. “License plate ends with J 753. That’s all I have. Use the street cameras. I need the location as soon as possible.”

“On it,” Glen says. The line goes dead.

I’ve always had a good memory. Could be my HSAM—highly superior autobiographical memory. I remember almost everything I see. But I didn’t catch the full plate number. Just those last four characters. The rest is blurry.

Would have made this easier.

I sit in the driver’s seat. Fingers tap the steering wheel. Tap. Tap. Tap.

What is this uneasy feeling?

I wait for the call.

JADE

We’re in the restaurant. Soft lighting. A small table by the window. Cole ordered for both of us—something Italian. The food is good. The conversation is easy.

My phone buzzed earlier. Derek’s name on the screen. I declined it.

Why the fuck would he call anyway?

Cole smiles at me across the table. “You look nice tonight.”

“Thanks.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “You too.”

He reaches for my hand. I let him take it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks. Quiet. Polite.

I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

We lean in. His eyes close. Mine start to close—

The door swings open.

Derek walks in. His eyes scan the room. Find me immediately.

He walks straight to our table. Doesn’t look at Cole. Just looks at me.

“Get up,” he says. “Follow me.”

My face goes hot. Embarrassment floods my chest. “No.”

Cole looks between us. “Who are you? Why are you sabotaging the date?”

Derek doesn’t answer. Just gives him a look. A look that promises a lot of violence if he doesn’t get lost.

Cole’s face pales. He pushes his chair back. Stands up.

“I should go,” he mutters. “This is a little too much.”

He walks toward the door.

“Cole, wait—” I call after him. He doesn’t stop. I start to get up, but he’s already gone. The door swings shut behind him.

I turn on Derek. “We were leaving anyway.” My voice shakes with anger.

“Good.” He grabs my arm. “Get in the car.”

I yank my arm free. Follow him outside. Cole’s red car is already pulling away. I watch it go.

Then I start hitting Derek’s chest. Palm flat. Open hand. Not hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to make a point.

“You have no right!” I hit him again. “No right to just show up like that!”

He catches my wrist. Holds it still. “I have every right.” His voice is low. Hard. “Something was off with that guy. I just got here in time.”

“He was being nice! You’re the one with the problem.” I try to pull my wrist back. He doesn’t let go. “How did you even know where I was?”

He doesn’t answer that. Just nods toward his car. “Get in.”

“No.”

“Bean sprout.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He looks at me. Really looks at me. His jaw is tight. His eyes are dark.

“Jade.” He says my name. Just my name. “Get in the fucking car.”

I freeze.

He never uses my name. It’s always bean sprout. Always tulip. Never Jade.

His annoyed tone. The fact that he said my name.

I don’t know why that works. But it does.

I walk to the passenger side. Open the door. Get in.

Slam it shut.

He does the same. Starts the engine. Drives off.

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