CHAPTER TWELVE

I woke up before the sun.

At first, I thought it was just one of those mornings where sleep slipped through my fingers too early, but as I lay there staring at the faint outline of my curtains, I realized what it really was, my mind simply wouldn’t shut off.

Today was Damian’s game.

The thought pressed on me like a weight. I rolled over, burying my face into the pillow, hoping maybe I could drown it out, but it didn’t work. My chest ached with a question I’d been trying to avoid since yesterday.

Wass I even supposed to show up?

He had invited me. I remembered the way his voice had carried that casual confidence, like it was a given I’d be there. And yet, after everything—the cafeteria, Marianne, the way he hadn’t said a word in my defense, was I still supposed to just appear at his sideline like nothing was wrong?

I hugged the pillow tighter. A part of me screamed no. Stay home, bury yourself in textbooks, pretend the world beyond exams didn’t exist. But another part of me whispered that it would be rude not to show. That maybe, just maybe, this was the chance to patch things up, even if I had no idea why I wanted to.

The second voice won.

By the time I slipped out of bed, the sky was still a pale gray, streaked with the earliest hints of light. I padded down to the kitchen in my socks, the air cool against my skin. The oven was a quiet hum in the corner of my mind, a comfort I’d grown to lean on.

Cookies.

If nothing else, I could bake him something. Chocolate chip cookies... he loved them the most.

Flour dusted my fingers, sugar clung to the countertop, and the rich smell of melting chocolate filled the air as the batch came together. Mixing, measuring, waiting, all of it was steady, familiar, a rhythm I could lose myself in. It kept me from overthinking. It kept me from wondering if Marianne would be there. (Of course she would.)

By the time the last tray cooled, the sky outside had turned gold. The house was still quiet. Mom wasn’t awake yet. I stacked the cookies neatly into a box, tying the ribbon with clumsy fingers, my heart thudding like it already knew today wasn’t going to be easy.

Back in my room, I dressed carefully. Not my usual messy bun,today I scraped my hair into a neat ponytail, smoothing down every strand until I almost didn’t recognize the girl staring back at me in the mirror. She looked like she was trying too hard. But wasn’t that the point?

When I finally stepped into the hallway, Mom was awake. She caught sight of the box in my hands and raised an eyebrow.

“Heading out this early?”

“Yeah.” I hesitated only a moment before telling her the truth. “Damian’s football competition. He… invited me.”

She just smiled softly. “Be careful, Autumn. And have fun.”

Her voice made me pause. Fun. I wasn’t sure that was even on the table, but I nodded anyway, hugging the box tighter as I stepped outside.

And there he was.

Taylor.

He leaned against the fence like he always did, headphones hanging around his neck, that lazy grin plastered on his face as if the world couldn’t touch him.

“Morning,” he said.

A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. “Do you ever leave?”

“Not when there’s a chance to annoy you before school.” His eyes flicked to the box in my hands. “What’s that? A bribe?”

“Cookies,” I admitted, shifting uncomfortably. “For Damian. It’s his game today.”

His brows shot up. “Game? He didn’t say anything to me.”

“Guess he didn’t think you’d care,” I muttered.

“Well, he’s wrong. Of course I’d care.” Taylor’s grin widened. “Guess that means I’m tagging along.”

I blinked at him, but something in his expression told me arguing would be useless. And maybe, just maybe, I didn’t mind having him there.

So we went together.

The stadium wasn’t far, but the moment we walked through the gates, the buzz of energy hit me like a wave. People were already crowding the bleachers, voices loud, banners flapping in the air.

And then I saw him.

Damian.

He stood near the edge of the field, dark hair catching the light, posture radiating confidence like he’d been born for this spotlight. My chest tightened at the sight of him. He was impossible to miss, impossible not to look at.

But then my gaze shifted.

Marianne.

She stood among the cheerleaders, uniform crisp, pom-poms in hand. But she wasn’t smiling, wasn’t clapping, wasn’t anything like the others around her. Her eyes were fixed on Damian, her expression unreadable but heavy, but her eyes showed nothing but the kind of tenderness I always give Damian, and for a moment, it made me feel like I was intruding on something private.

I hugged the cookie box closer.

“Yo, Damian!”

Taylor’s voice cut through the noise. My head snapped toward him, horrified, but it was too late, he was already cupping his hands around his mouth, shouting like Damian was his long-lost brother.

And Damian… looked.

His gaze swept the stands until it landed on us. On Taylor, grinning like an idiot, and on me, standing awkwardly with a box clutched to my chest.

For a heartbeat, nothing. Then his lips curved into a smile, bright, dashing, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

And just like that, something inside me unclenched.

For once, I felt like maybe I was supposed to be there.

The game started, and Taylor was relentless, cheering louder than anyone else in the stands. I tried to laugh at his ridiculous chants, but my eyes kept sliding back to Marianne. To the way she looked so effortlessly beautiful in her uniform, to how perfectly she fit into this world where I felt like an outsider with slipping glasses and clothes that didn’t quite belong.

I told myself to focus on the game, but the truth was, my attention was everywhere else. On Marianne. On Damian. On how far away I felt from both of them.

The whistle blew. Cheers erupted. Goals were scored. But none of it seemed to stick in my head, not really.

Until the end.

The scoreboard read 3–2. Not in Damian’s favor.

My stomach dropped as I watched him, shoulders slumped, the fire in his posture dimmed. For once, the confidence he wore like armor seemed to crack.

Before I realized it, I was already moving. Shoving past people, the cookie box digging into my ribs as I clutched it close. Taylor called after me, but I didn’t slow down. All I could think about was reaching him, about being there when he looked like he needed someone the most.

But then I stopped.

Because Marianne was already there.

She ran up to him without hesitation, and he didn’t push her away. Didn’t even hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, his face burying into the crook of her neck like it was the only place he wanted to be.

I froze, the world tilting under me. Each second they stayed wrapped around each other felt like another crack splintering through my chest.

The cookie box grew heavier in my hands until it was unbearable. My heart pounded so loudly I couldn’t hear the crowd anymore.

And then Taylor caught up to me.

He didn’t speak at first, just followed my gaze, his jaw tightening as he watched them too.

Finally, he said softly, “Let’s get out of here.”

I didn’t argue when he pulled me away.