CHAPTER TEN

Lunch was something I was always looking forward to, it was at lunch I get to give Damian my baked cookies and watch him smile.The cafeteria was a battlefield of noise and laughter, tables full of people who always seemed to know where they belonged.

But today was different.

Taylor suggested we go sit at a table. I hesitated for half a second, then took agreed. And for once, it didn’t feel awkward.

The air wasn’t heavy. Instead, there was Taylor cracking jokes about the “mystery meat” they’d served and pretending to gag dramatically whenever someone walked by with it on their tray. I laughed, really laughed, and it felt… easy.

My pancakes, the ones I’d rushed to make this morning, tasted better in this atmosphere. Not because they were perfect, they were slightly soggy from being in the container too long, but because I wasn’t eating them alone. Taylor even stole a bite when I wasn’t looking, wrinkling his nose.

“Sweet,” he said, chewing thoughtfully. “But next time, you should let me make you something. My mom swears I’m a pancake expert.”

I raised a brow. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

“Hey, I’ll prove it. Saturday morning, you, me, and a stack taller than my dog.”

“Your dog may be really tiny,” I teased.

“You haven't even seen it yet,” he said with mock seriousness.

It was good. Comfortable. For a rare moment, I forgot to overthink. Forgot about Marianne. Forgot about Damian.

Until the cafeteria doors opened and the world reminded me.

Damian walked in.

And of course, Marianne was right there beside him, her arm brushing against his like she couldn’t stand the idea of space. Behind them was another girl I didn’t know, long shiny hair, bright smile, the unmistakable polish of a cheerleader.

My fork stilled mid-bite. The laughter around me dimmed, replaced by that familiar tightness in my chest. I lowered my gaze, hoping maybe they’d choose a different table, but that was wishful thinking, with Damian knowing I'm seated her, he'll definitely come here with them.

“Mind if we join?” Marianne’s voice rang out before I could even react.

Taylor, ever the extrovert, grinned. “Sure, the more the merrier.”

And just like that, my peace shattered.

Marianne slid into the seat beside Damian, claiming him like a prize. The cheerleader plopped down beside Taylor, and he immediately turned his charm toward her, leaning in with that easy smile of his. She giggled at everything he said, flicking her hair over her shoulder like she was in some shampoo commercial.

And me? I was left in the silence between them all, staring down at my pancakes like they were the only safe place for my eyes to land.

Damian barely glanced at me. His focus was, as always, on Marianne. His laugh was softer when it was for her. His posture leaned toward her, like every word she spoke mattered more than the rest of the noise in the room.

I cut into my pancake slowly, chewing in silence while their conversations swirled around me. Practice routines. Inside jokes. Weekend plans. None of it included me.

I told myself I didn’t care. I told myself I was used to this.

But then Marianne looked right at me, eyes sharp, smile deceptively sweet. “That reminds me. Damian, have you told Autumn yet?”

My head snapped up. “Told me what?”

Damian froze. His fork paused halfway to his mouth. His gaze flicked to mine and then quickly back down, like he couldn’t hold it. My stomach dropped.

“You haven’t,” Marianne said, her tone dripping with amusement. She leaned forward, her voice carrying loud enough for the whole table. “Well. Starting tomorrow, you won’t be riding with us anymore. My friends are coming along, and there won’t be any space left for you in his car.”

The words hit like ice water.

For a second, all I could do was blink at her. Then my gaze shifted to Damian, searching his face for denial, for reassurance, for anything.

But his silence told me everything.

He knew.

His jaw tightened. That tiny flicker of guilt in his eyes was all the confirmation I needed. He’d known. He’d just never told me.

Somehow that hurt more than I expected it to.

The sting behind my eyes was immediate, but I refused to let it show. I straightened, my voice sharper than I felt inside. “So what? The bus exists for a reason. If your friends need a ride, they can take that. Why should I be the one pushed out?”

Marianne’s smirk widened. “Because you’re not the priority here. I am. And let’s be real.” She leaned closer to Damian, brushing her hand against his arm. “Big difference.”

Her words were a blade, slicing right through me.

“I’ve been here for years,” I said quietly, the shake in my voice betraying me. “Choosing randoms over the person who’s been by your side? That isn’t proper.”

Damian finally spoke, his tone low and heavy. “Autumn… I’m sorry…”

Sorry. Just sorry.

The tears burned harder, threatening to spill. I couldn’t let them. Not here. Not in front of her smug face.

I pushed back my chair, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. Grabbing my lunchbox with trembling fingers, I stood.

“Autumn, wait…” Damian’s voice followed me, raw, reaching.

But Marianne cut in, casual and dismissive. “Let her go, Damian. She’ll be fine.”

Her words followed me out the cafeteria doors, echoing louder than his half-hearted apology.

I walked fast, not trusting myself to slow down. My chest felt tight, like every breath hurt, and the tears I’d been holding back finally slipped free. I swiped at them quickly, hoping no one saw.

The bleachers by the field were empty, the sun warming the metal as I climbed halfway up and sank down. My lunch sat untouched in my lap. I couldn’t eat. Could barely even breathe past the ache in my throat.

Footsteps crunched against the grass.

I stiffened, swiping quickly at my cheeks, but when I turned, Taylor was already climbing up toward me. His grin was softer now, less playful, but still there.

“You run quite fast for someone your height ” he said, sliding onto the bench beside me. “The atmosphere in there? Toxic. Like, nuclear-level. I had to escape before I suffocated.”

I let out a weak laugh, keeping my gaze fixed on the field. “You didn’t have to follow me.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” He nudged my shoulder lightly. “And hey, someone’s gotta save you from eating those pancakes alone.”

He launched into a joke about the cafeteria food again, mimicking the way the lunch lady scowled when he talked about the mystery meat. I tried to laugh, but my sleeve kept brushing against my cheeks, catching the tears I couldn’t fully hide.

For a while, he didn’t notice. He kept talking, filling the silence with that effortless humor of his. But then he went quiet. Too quiet.

“Autumn,” he said slowly.

I forced a smile, shaking my head. “It’s nothing. Really.”

But when I risked a glance at him, his expression had shifted completely. His usual brightness was gone, replaced by something serious, searching.

His eyes lingered on the wetness at the corner of mine. “Wait… were you crying?”

My throat tightened. I tried to laugh it off, lifting my fork half-heartedly. “No. Just, bad pancakes. That’s all.”

He didn’t look convinced. He studied me for a long moment, and then his voice dropped lower, more careful.

“Do you… like him?”

The words hit harder than I was ready for.

And I froze, caught between the ache in my chest and the fact that I'm so terrible at controlling and hiding my feelings.