Chapter 19: First Day Tension

The morning air was thick—and not just from the summer heat. My nerves were already fraying, thanks to Ethan's Houdini act. The guy basically demanded I date him, all broody and intense, and then—poof—he vanished. No texts, no calls. Nada. Was he ghosting his idea of romance? And to make things worse, my dad was waiting for me by the car, tapping his fingers on the roof like a human metronome.

"You ready?" he asked, more like a command than a question.

"Not like I have much of a choice," I muttered, hobbling toward the car in that stupid orthopedic boot.

Riding a bike was out of the question, and while school was only fifteen minutes away, being chauffeured by Dad on the first day of senior year? Kill me now.

Just as I was about to drag myself into the passenger seat, the roar of an engine shattered the morning stillness. I turned to see a black Ford pickup tearing down the street, music blasting so loud it rattled the pavement. And, of course, it was Ethan.

Great.

He parked like he was auditioning for an action movie—screeching to a stop inches from my dad's car. Then he climbed out, all six-foot-something of brooding intensity, wearing that same pissed-off look he'd had when he stormed off days ago.

"Morning, Mr. Wayne," he greeted politely, though his jaw was clenched tight.

Dad eyed him suspiciously. "Mind if I take Quinn to school today?" Ethan asked, his voice calm but firm.

I could tell he wanted to argue, but something about Ethan's demeanor made him think twice. "If Quinn's okay with it."

Spoiler alert: I was not.

"Actually, I—"

"Get in the truck," Ethan cut me off, his voice low but commanding. Then, softer, "Let me make up for the other day."

Heat flared up my neck. This guy was unbelievable. "Make up for ignoring me? Why didn't you return my calls?"

Ethan's eyes darkened. "Get in the truck," he repeated, leaving no room for argument.

My dad raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the power struggle. Traitor.

Fine. Whatever. I huffed and stomped—well, limped—over to the truck, throwing myself into the passenger seat with all the grace of a disgruntled toddler. I admit I was acting like a spoilt brat. 

The music was still blasting when Ethan got in, but he turned it down to a dull thrum. Silence settled between us, thick and suffocating. I crossed my arms, waiting for him to explain himself.

Finally, he sighed. "I wasn't ignoring you."

I snorted. "Could've fooled me."

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I had stuff to figure out."

"Oh, that's rich," I shot back. "You pull the whole mysterious, brooding act, then disappear without a word? What was I supposed to think?"

Ethan's jaw clenched. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "I can't. Not yet."

Typical. I rolled my eyes. "Fine. Keep your big, dark secrets."

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his messy hair. "I'm sorry, okay?"

Wait. What?

I blinked, caught off guard. Ethan didn't strike me as the apologizing type. "Well... good," I muttered, still irritated but not entirely immune to the rare apology. "Just don't pull that crap again."

As we pulled into the school parking lot, Ethan parked near the entrance—because, of course, he had to make a grand entrance. Heads turned as soon as we stepped out. Whispers rippled through the crowd, mostly from girls who looked ready to faint at the sight of him.

Great. Just what I needed.

"I'll carry your bag," Ethan said, grabbing it before I could protest.

"I can carry my own stuff," I grumbled, but he was already slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing.

As we made our way toward the front doors, I could feel eyes boring into my back. Being associated with one of the Blackthorn brothers was apparently a big deal.

"You don't have to walk me in," I whispered harshly. "I'm fine."

"I'm walking you in," he said firmly, ignoring the growing crowd of gawking students.

I was about to argue when Ethan suddenly stopped, turned toward me, and did the unthinkable.

He kissed me.

It wasn't a quick peck, either. His lips brushed mine just long enough to make my brain short-circuit. Gasps erupted around us, and when he finally pulled away, he had the audacity to grin.

"See you later," he said casually, turning on his heel and heading back to his truck.

I stood there, frozen, my heart racing. What. The. Hell?

Did he do that on purpose? Of course he did. The smug jerk.

Before I could fully process what had just happened, I noticed a boy with the blackest hair, staring at me. Luca.

He was surrounded by some of the guys from the lake, but I could clearly see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his expression murderous. His eyes blazed with something dangerously close to hatred. For a second, I could've sworn they flickered red.

What the hell was his problem?

My stomach twisted. I tried to shake it off as I hurried into the building, but Luca's glare burned into the back of my mind. And that weird, inexplicable pull I felt toward him?

It needed to stop.

Now.