CHAPTER TWO — THE SPACES BETWEEN WORDS

I don’t usually stay after games. Win or lose, I have a system, I cool down, pack up, leave. No lingering, no getting caught in the noise after everything’s already been decided. The field is clean, predictable. Off the field, things get… messy. But tonight… I linger. Not enough for anyone to call it out.

Just enough that I notice things I normally wouldn’t. Like how the parking lot lights flicker once before settling. Like how the air feels heavier than it should for early fall, pressing faintly against my skin like something unseen is leaning too close.

Like how Lila keeps glancing between me and the fence where Kade had been standing. Had been. I scan the edge of the field again, like maybe I imagined him leaving. He’s gone. That shouldn’t matter. It does anyway. “You’re doing it again,” Lila says, dropping onto the bench beside me.

I don’t look over. I keep zipping my bag, methodically. Controlled. “Doing what?” “That thing where you pretend you’re not thinking about something while very obviously thinking about it.” I huff quietly. “You’re reading into it.”

“I’m reading you,” she corrects. “Which is easy when you’re being predictable.” That makes me glance at her. “Predictable?” She shrugs, a small smile tugging at her mouth. “Only when it comes to things you don’t want to deal with.” I don’t respond. Because that hits a little too close. Lila bumps her shoulder into mine. “Come over tonight.”

I hesitate. “I have early practice tomorrow.” “You always have early practice,” she says. “That’s not a real excuse anymore.” “It’s still a valid one,” I mutter. “Hope.” Something in her voice shifts. Softer. More serious. I look at her.

“Come over,” she says again. “Just for a little while.” I study her for a second longer than I need to. Then nod once. “Fine. But I’m not staying late.” Her grin snaps into place instantly. “That’s all I needed.” The Hart house always feels like stepping into a different kind of world. Not quiet. Not controlled. Alive.

The front door barely shuts behind us before Lila kicks off her shoes and calls out, “I’m home!” Voices answer from somewhere deeper in the house, with the overlapping, warm, familiar. I slip off my cleats and set my bag down by the wall, taking it all in the way I always do. It never changes. And somehow, it always feels different. Photos line the walls, with vacations, birthdays, random snapshots frozen mid-laugh. A life that spills outward instead of being held in. I’m not used to that. “Hope!”

Lila’s mom appears from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “I heard about your game. Home run, right?”

I give a small smile. “Yeah.”

“That’s amazing, honey.” She crosses the room and pulls me into a quick hug before I can brace for it. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.” “I know,” I say softly. And I do. That’s part of the problem. Being here feels easy. Too easy.

“Food’s still warm if you want anything,” she adds. “I’m good, thank you.” Lila grabs my wrist. “Come on.” I barely have time to react before she’s dragging me down the hallway and into her room. The door shuts behind us with a soft click. Silence settles in. The Real Silence. Lila turns immediately. “Okay.” I lean back against the wall. “Okay what?” She crosses her arms. “We’re talking about it.” I blink. “About what?” She gives me a look. “Do not do that.” “Do what?” “Pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” I exhale slowly. “Lila…” “My brother,” she cuts in. “You. The staring. The weird tension that I’m not imagining.”

I push off the wall, moving further into the room. “There is no tension.” “That is the most obvious lie you’ve ever told me.”

I turn back to her. “Nothing is happening.”

Her expression shifts. Not frustration. Something softer. Concern. “That’s not what I said,” she replies quietly.

I hesitate. That difference matters. “I just…” She trails off, pacing once. “He’s different lately.” My chest tightens slightly. “Different how?” She shrugs. “Quieter. More… distant. But not in the normal Kade way.” I frown. “Is there a normal Kade way?” “You know what I mean,” she says. “He’s always been kind of closed off, but this is different.” I lean against her dresser, arms crossing loosely. “You think it has something to do with me?” She looks at me. Really looks. “I think it has something to do with the way he looks at you,” she says. I don’t answer. Because I don’t know how to. There’s no clean explanation for that. Lila softens slightly. “I’m not mad, you know.” I blink. “You’re not?” “No,” she says. “I just… I don't like not understanding what’s going on.”

I let out a quiet breath. “Yeah,” I say. “Same.” A knock sounds lightly against the door. Then it opens. I don’t have to turn. I feel it. That same awareness from the field. Kade Mercer stands in the doorway. “Mom said you got food….” he starts, then stops when he sees us. Silence drops. Heavy. Lila looks between us, then sighs. “Okay, I’m not doing this right now.” “Doing what?” I ask. “Whatever this is,” she gestures vaguely between us. “I’m getting a drink.” She brushes past him on her way out, muttering, “Don’t make it weird.” The door closes behind her. I stare at it for a second. Then slowly turn. Kade hasn’t moved. Still in the doorway. Still watching me. The air shifts. Not wrong like earlier. Just… charged. “You didn’t leave right away after the game,” I say. Not a question. He leans slightly against the doorframe. “No.” “Why?” A pause.

His gaze doesn’t shift. “I wanted to see if you felt it too.” My stomach drops slightly. “Felt what?” “The change,” he says.

My fingers curl slightly against my arms. “That doesn’t explain anything.” “It’s not supposed to.” “That’s not helpful.” Something flickers across his expression. Not quite amusing. Something softer. “I know.” I step closer without meaning to.

Just enough to close the space between us. “What do you think is happening?” I ask quietly. He studies me for a long moment. Like he’s deciding something. Then… “I think things are starting to overlap.” I frown. “Overlap how?”

He doesn’t answer right away.

Instead, his gaze flicks briefly to my hands. Then back to my face. “Have you noticed anything… off?” he asks.

I hesitate. The flicker during my run. The shift in the air. The way everything felt slightly… misaligned. “Yes,” I admit.

He nods once. Like he expected that. “That’s the beginning,” he says. My pulse picks up. “Beginning of what?” Before he can answer….. The lights flicker.

Once.

Twice.

My breath catches. Kade’s posture shifts instantly. More alert. More focused. “Did you….” I start. “I saw it,” he says.

The lights are steady. But the feeling doesn’t go away. I look toward the window. For a split second…. I think I see something move outside. Not a person.

Not anything I can name. Just… movement where there shouldn’t be any. I blink. It’s gone. “Hope.” I turn back.

Kade is closer now. I didn’t see him move. “Whatever’s happening,” he says quietly, “it’s not going to stay small.”

My chest tightens. “That’s not reassuring.” “It’s not meant to be.” Another flicker. Longer this time. The room dims. Then returns. I swallow hard. “What do we do?” I ask. He holds my gaze. For a moment too long. Then says… “We pay attention.” The lights flicker again. And this time… It feels like something is paying attention back.