تسجيل الدخول"Miss Hartwell.”
Nothing.
“Miss Hartwell.”
Still nothing.
“Lena!”
I opened my eyes.
Coach Miller was peering down at me curiously.
I fell asleep. In the middle of class. Impossible.
In my defence, I had been awake until three. Cross-referencing Martin’s therapy notes with books on autism I downloaded for free.
I built a 175-page, colour-coded weekly curriculum for the older brother, Jace, who needed serious help in six different subjects.
I still got an A.
I knew because Coach Miller, who also doubled as the science teacher, was setting the test paper on my desk right then. Ninety eight percent in a red circle.
I sat up quickly, hearing someone snicker behind me.
“Best in the class, as usual,” he said, mostly for me. “I’m really proud of you, Lena.”
Then he studied my face worriedly. “Come to my office after school today so we can talk, alright? You don’t look so good.”
Just as opened my mouth to say yes to him, my phone buzzed with a message. It was from mom.
I looked down, and my stomach dropped without warning. It was a picture of the funeral poster. Dad’s smiling photo was in the middle, surrounded by white flowers.
Celebration of Life. Beloved husband and father. Funeral Date: Saturday.
Soon they would put him in the ground, and he would never come back again.
It was all just too much for my heart to handle at once.
I pressed my trembling lips together and stared hard at the whiteboard, trying so, so hard not to break down all over again.
But I couldn’t stop the tears; one slipped down my left cheek before I could catch it. I wiped it off quickly and kept my eyes forward, hoping nobody noticed.
But I could feel someone watching me, their gaze burning the back of my neck. Despite my better judgment, I looked back to figure out who it was.
Jace Dawson sat right behind me, looking directly at me with the most intense expression I’d ever seen.
I looked away quickly.
Why today? He never cared enough to attend classes before. Of all the days he could have chosen to show up, why this one?
And why was he looking at me like that?
Maybe the threat of getting kicked off the team had gotten to him, so he’d started to take school more seriously.
I told myself that was probably it, and tried to forget about it.
Soon, the closing bell rang, and I was on my feet before the sound finished, notebook under my arm, moving for the door.
The hallway was loud and chaotic; everyone was flowing toward the gym for the pep rally before the big game that afternoon.
I kept to the wall, head down, phone still in my hand because I hadn’t been able to close Dad’s face off the screen yet.
I didn’t know when I bumped directly into someone.
A hand caught my wrist before I could stumble.
I looked up in a daze to find Allison, with her small army of cronies behind her, wearing a surprised, disgusted expression.
“You again, Lena?! Looks like you still haven’t learned your lesson, huh?! Watch where you’re going!”
“Sorry.” I tried to step around her, but her grip didn’t loosen.
“Hold on. What’s the rush?” Her eyes dropped to my phone with my father’s face still on the screen.
One second was all it took for her to snatch it right out of my hand.
“Give it back,” I pleaded, reaching out for it.
“Shut up, I’m not gonna eat your dumb phone, I’m just looking.”
She tilted the screen toward her army. “Look at this, girls. Celebration of Life.” Her sweet, evil voice piped up, “That’s such a nice way to say dead, isn’t it?”
“Give me my phone, Alison.”
“In a second.” Her cold blue gaze held mine, and every trace of a smile disappeared, leaving only hate and suspicion.
“ That reminds me… I heard something funny today. A little birdie told me something about you and Jace.” She made a disgusted face. “That you’re tutoring him. At his house. Is that true?”
“It’s probably just a rumour, Ally. There’s no way Jace would ever let something like that,” Tracy gestured at me, “anywhere near him, talk less of his home.”
“Please... I just…”
“It’d better be just a rumour,” She smiled that evil smile again. “Because if not, then that means you’re actually going to hang around him all day, pretending to teach him stuff while actually trying to steal him away from me? Is that right?”
She folded her arms, “He’s such a sweetheart, my Jace, so of course he’ll take pity on you and give your poor little insignificant family money.”
Seriously? Jace Dawson, a sweetheart? That Jace?
She glanced at the photo of my dad on the screen again. “Let me guess, you tried using your dead dad as an excuse to—”
“Don’t.” It came out sharper than I expected. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
Alison blinked.
So did I, honestly, because I surprised myself too.
A ripple went through her crew. Tracy looked at Alison. Alison looked at me. Like I’d done something so shocking, like the mouse had talked back to the cat.
“What did you just say to me?” She asked, her voice going quiet and dangerous.
I wanted to run and hide and find cover. I was so afraid that it took all the strength I had not to fall to my knees, but I forced the words out anyway. And for the first time in my life, I defended myself.
“You can say whatever you want about me. I’ll take it like I've always done. But don't you talk about my dad. Don’t you dare.”
The hallway had gone still.
Out of nowhere, Allison’s hand smacked across my face. “You bitch!”
I gasped with shock, stumbling to the dirty floor. White light clouded my vision, and I could hear a ringing in my ears.
I lay there with my palm pressed to my throbbing, painful cheek, watching in horror as Allison stretched her hand as far back as she could, preparing to throw my phone on the ground and smash it.
“Want to say something else?” she hissed. “Go ahead. See what happens!”
My cheek was on fire. My eyes were stinging. Every sensible part of me was screaming to apologize, to beg, and to do whatever it took to end this the way I always ended it.
But I straightened up instead. Slowly, with my legs unsteady, my hand still pressed to my face.
But up.
Alison actually looked thrown for a second, her supporters' mouths fell open in disbelief as they watched me.
“That’s my phone,” I said, my voice shaking. “And I’d like it back. Please.”
Whatever she was about to say next got swallowed by the noise flooding the hallway. Jocks in their football jerseys, loud and unbothered, headed from the pep rally.
Jace at the front, as usual.
He stopped to take in the scene. The raised phone, me standing against the wall with my hand on my face, the crowd gathered around us.
He pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, obviously he didn’t have time for this.
“Go ahead, I'll catch up later.” he said to his teammates. Then they were gone, and it was just us.
Alison’s voice immediately got softer, her fingers twirling her hair. “Hi, baby. I was just about to teach this rude little girl a lesson. Want to help?”
I looked at Jace. I’d already tried to ask his help before, and I still remembered how horribly that went, but at this point, I had no other choice.
“Can you help me get my phone back from Alison? Please.” I asked softly, stretching out my hand to receive it.
He looked back at Alison, then at the phone and then, to my surprise, he actually took it from her.
I was already sighing with relief when all of a sudden, he slid it into his pocket. And then he smirked, an evil glint in his eyes as he watched me.
No.
“Actually,” he said calmly, “if you want it back so bad, you know what to do. Call off the tutoring lessons. Tell your mom you changed your mind, and find another job.”
I sighed, shaking my head slowly, and I laughed a small, tired laugh.
I was so done with all of this.
“You know what, Jace, do whatever you want with it.”
I picked up my bag from the floor.
“My dad is being buried on Saturday,” I said. “And I have to go tell my teacher, who is also the only person in this school who’s ever been decent to me, that I won’t be as available anymore because I’m too busy trying to keep my family from losing our house. This petty high school crap? It’s not worth it.”
I looked at him one last time.
“Keep it. Smash it. I don’t care. I’ll figure it out.” My voice only wavered once. “I’ll see you at your house tonight.”
I walked away before either of them could respond.
This nerd had balls of steel, I'd give her that.She had threatened my football career.My. Actual. Fucking. Football. Career.I sat on the edge of my bed, stared at the ceiling and breathed through my nose because the only other alternative was putting my angry fist through the wall, and I'd promised Martin that I would try.I'd said those exact words three years ago after the last massive fight with my father, sitting on the edge of my brother's bed while Martin looked up at me with those eyes that trusted me more than I deserved. I'll try, buddy. I promise.I was trying. I was sitting here trying to be calm instead of going back downstairs and flipping that entire dining room table and dragging that bratty girl out by her hair, and that was trying.The thing making it worse, the thing sitting on top of the anger like salt on an injury and stopping me from doing what I actually wanted, was the mother situation.Because if Lena reported me, my mother would do what she always did when
NINEMartin had fallen asleep mid-sentence.One moment he was telling me about the classification system he'd invented for his train collection that was colour-coded by era, which I chose not to point out was exactly the kind of thing I did with curriculum notes at two in the morning, and the next his head was drooping toward the table. No warning. Just gone.I sat there for a moment watching him sleep, his cheek pressed against his forearm, with his model train, apparently his favourite one, still tucked under his elbow.He trusted me enough to fall asleep in front of me.I didn't know why that hit as hard as it did. I just sat with it for a second before I carefully gathered his papers, stacked them, capped his pen, and then walked him upstairs with one hand on his shoulder to keep him pointed in the right direction. He didn't wake up fully. Just shuffled alongside me on autopilot, climbed into his bed still mostly unconscious, and curled around his train as he'd probably done a t
EIGHT"So this is what you came to talk to my brother about?"I shrank back in my chair before I could stop myself. Jace was in the kitchen doorway blocking out the light with his massive frame, his dark eyes on me, arms crossed. Apparently, he’d been watching us from the top of the stairs full of suspicion, with a pissed-off expression on his face.Why the heck was he acting like this? What was I doing to do, kidnap Martin?"We were just talking," I said. "That's all.""You're supposed to be teaching him schoolwork.""Its.. It’s important for teachers to build trust with their students so that they are more open to learning. One of the ways to do that is by chatting about their interests.” I tried to explain.“Is that so?”I continued, “Yes. Anyway, we already finished the assessment. We were just…”"Just what exactly?"I opened my mouth. Closed it. Then I stared straight at the table, completely unable to look at anything, most especially him because looking at him directly still re
SEVEN"What?"I never expected it, he’d been such a quiet kid so far, asking very few questions, and now all of a sudden he was asking me that?!Martin blinked at me, tilted his head in confusion, then he repeated himself again like he'd been perfectly clear the first time."I asked you a question. I said are you my brother's girlfriend?""No," I said. "Absolutely not."He considered it for a while, biting his lip and thinking hard. "Are you sure?""Very.""Because there's always different girls here and he tells me they're his girlfriends." A pause. "You could be one and not know.""I think I'd know.""He has a lot.""I'm sure he does." I didn't bother hiding my disgust at those words.There's no way I’d ever go out with a guy like that, he’d cured me of my crush completely. Sure I was plain and on the bigger side and I wasn’t exactly his type, and everyone would probably say I would be lucky to be with a boy as great and handsome and popular as him…"But I'm not one of them. I'm her
SIXI was such a fool.In his office earlier, Coach Ellis had looked at me with care and affection, saying he knew something was wrong and giving me the chance to tell him myself.I hadn’t taken it.I’d sat in that chair across from his desk and smiled and said everything was fine. I was only adjusting to a new schedule, there was absolutely nothing to worry about at all.I watched him watch me lie to his face for the first time since I’d met him, and it made me feel so incredibly gross, that I wanted to throw up in my mouth.I didn’t talk to him about my home life and the issue with Jace’s family, but it wasn’t because I didn’t trust him. I simply didn’t want to inconvenience him, especially he was already doing so much for me in school.Coach just nodded slowly. He didn’t look very convinced, but he smiled and said “Okay, Lena, my door is always open. If you ever need anything, make sure to come to me first, alright?”It was the first time I'd ever lied to Coach Ellis.And now this
Jace's POVWe lost the fucking game.Now, Coach was screaming at me, the team captain who’d royally fucked up, and I stood there with my helmet under my arm and took every word with my mouth shut because what the fuck was I going to say.That I couldn’t see the field, because every time I’d lined up to throw, I kept seeing her face instead, those stupid brown eyes looking at me from across the hallway.I hit the gym showers, not the locker room, because I was still too full of shame and disappointment over losing that I couldn’t yet face my team and give them the encouragement and morale they needed.But despite the hot water rushing over my head, I still couldn’t focus.The thing that was killing me, the thing I couldn’t get my head around, was that it made no fucking sense.She was nothing. She was a plain, stubborn, broke, socially invisible nerd who had no business being within ten feet of my life, and yet there I was, throwing interceptions, losing games, unable to concentrate be







