CHAPTER ELEVEN

Closing time crept up faster than I thought.

The last bell had already rung, and students spilled out of classrooms like water breaking through a dam, filling the hallways with chatter and the squeak of sneakers on the polished floor. Normally, this was the part of the day where I’d gather my books, clutch my lunchbox tighter than necessary, and head toward the gate with one thought in my mind: wait for Damian.

And so I did.

I found myself at the same spot I always lingered, just outside the school doors, standing near the railing where the setting sun always threw long shadows across the pavement. The air was cooling, the heat of the day finally giving way to something gentler.

The longer I stood there, the heavier the realization pressed against my chest. Of course he wasn’t coming. Marianne had made it perfectly clear at lunch, my place in his car had already been filled.

I hugged my arms around myself, embarrassed at how childish it suddenly felt. Standing here, waiting for him like some loyal dog when he had already chosen otherwise. Crying earlier because he hadn’t defended me. Why had I even let it get to me? He didn’t owe me anything.

The embarrassment burned hotter than the memory of tears on my cheeks.

I was just about to turn, to finally walk away from the gate and quit this pointless waiting, when a familiar voice popped up at my side.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Taylor said, stepping into view with that easy grin of his.

I blinked. “You’re still around?”

He shrugged, as if it were nothing. “Guess you could say I was making sure you didn’t self-destruct from cafeteria-level trauma.”

The corner of my mouth twitched despite myself. “That’s… a long time to stick around.”

He leaned casually against the railing, looking perfectly unbothered. “What can I say? I’m persistent. Anyway, since mystery-boy isn’t coming, how about I walk you home?”

That caught me off guard. “Walk me home?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, studying my expression. “Unless you’d rather I didn’t?”

I hesitated, then narrowed my eyes slightly. “I just hope you’re not doing this out of pity.”

His grin softened into something steadier. “Not pity. Curiosity. I genuinely want to know where you live. That’s all.”

The sincerity in his tone made me falter. With Damian, everything felt like guesswork, like I was always waiting for a signal that never came. But with Taylor… his words left no room for doubt.

“…Fine,” I said, turning toward the road. “But don’t expect pancakes when we get there.”

“Aw, now you’re just crushing my dreams.” He fell into step beside me, hands shoved into his pockets. “Guess I’ll settle for learning the secrets of your neighborhood.”

The walk was quieter than I expected, but not uncomfortably so. The air between us carried a strange tension, like he was waiting for me to open up, while I tried to pretend I wasn’t thinking about earlier. Every so often, he tossed in a joke about a crooked mailbox we passed or about how suspiciously terrifying the neighborhood cat looked. His attempts were ridiculous, but they made the heaviness in my chest loosen just a little.

By the time we reached the familiar gate of my house, the sun was dipping low, streaking the sky in shades of orange and pink. I stopped in front of it, clutching the strap of my bag.

“Well,” I said softly, “this is me.”

Taylor glanced up at the house, then back at me. “Noted. Now I can stalk you more efficiently.”

I rolled my eyes, but a laugh slipped out anyway. “You’re impossible.”

“That’s what makes me fun,” he replied, flashing that grin again.

I shook my head and stepped through the gate. As I turned back, he was still there, giving a lazy little wave before heading down the street.

Inside, the scent of cooking greeted me. My chest tightened for a moment.

Mom. She was home.

“Autumn?” her voice called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me.” I set my bag down and walked in to find her standing by the stove, stirring something in a pot.

She looked up and smiled, and for the first time in days, her expression wasn’t weighed down by worry. “Grandma’s perfectly fine now. No need to panic anymore.”

Relief washed over me, stronger than I expected. “Really? That’s… that’s great.”

“It is.” Mom reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Speaking of which, how are your midterm preparations going?”

The question hit like a cold splash of water. My stomach dropped as I realized just how little I’d studied recently. Between everything with Damian, Marianne, and my own spiraling emotions, books had been the last thing on my mind. Like how I almost forgot to complete my assignments.

I forced a small smile. “I’ve… been managing.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly in that way only mothers could manage, but she didn’t press. Instead, she kissed my forehead. “Work hard, Autumn. You’ve always been capable of more than you think.”

Upstairs, I sat at my desk, pulling my textbooks closer. For once, I shoved my personal feelings aside, determined to focus. If Damian didn’t care, if Marianne wanted to win, fine. None of it mattered right now. What mattered were my grades, my future, and the exams creeping closer every day.

So I read. And read. And didn’t stop until the words finally began to make sense again.

The next morning, I wasn’t expecting anything unusual. But when I opened the gate, my steps faltered.

Taylor was there.

He was leaning against the fence like he had all the time in the world, headphones around his neck and a lazy grin already waiting for me.

“Morning,” he said. “Ready for your royal escort?”

I blinked, then slowly shook my head, a smile tugging at my lips before I could stop it. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, here you are, smiling at me.” He looked smug, falling into step as I locked the gate behind me.

I didn’t admit it out loud, but… it was nice. Really nice.

The days that followed settled into a strange new routine.

At lunch, I didn’t see Damian anymore. His usual table seemed emptier without him, but the gap he left was quickly filled by Taylor’s presence. He always seemed to be there, waiting outside my gate in the mornings, walking me home in the evenings, cracking jokes at lunch so I wouldn’t eat alone.

The ache that used to follow me around like a shadow began to fade. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, I let myself breathe again. I started reading harder for midterms, burying myself in notes and practice questions. Whenever the weight of everything threatened to crash down again, Taylor’s presence lightened it just enough to keep me afloat.

It was easier than I expected, to let go of the sharp edges Damian had left behind.

Until one evening, when I was flipping through my planner, pencil tapping against the margin.

That’s when I realized.

Damian’s competition was tomorrow.

The words stared up at me from the page, circled in ink, like a reminder I’d forgotten but couldn’t erase.

And just like that, the ache came rushing back, sharper than before.