All Chapters of Hate You, Till I Don't : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

POV: Blended (Ave + Blake)Ave — The Announcement RoomThe walls of the auditorium felt like they were pressing inward as the screen lit up. Her hands were cold. Her heart wasn’t.All four remaining teams stood at the front, shoulder to shoulder like chess pieces. Judges on one side. Audience on the other. Pressure everywhere.Her fingers brushed Blake’s by accident.He didn’t move.Neither did she.Not when the projector blinked to life, not when the first finalist name was called. It wasn’t them. It was Raven’s team.Predictable.She looked to her left and saw the smirk on Raven’s face. Arrogant. Inevitable.> Don’t look at her. Look forward.And she did—just as the second finalist team name appeared.Not them.Only two slots left.Then—> “Third finalist: Team Halcyon—Ave Santiago and Blake Monroe.”The room didn’t explode. It didn’t need to.Just one loud gasp from Nia in the back.One quiet, sharp inhale from Blake beside her.One pulse racing through Ave’s ribs like it wanted to

POV: Ave + Blake Ave — Saturday Morning, Coffee Shop Vibes Ave didn’t do coffee shops. She liked her espresso bitter, like her memories, and preferred getting it from a vending machine in the science wing. Fast, hot, emotionless. Like a bad hookup you could walk away from without guilt. But this? This was suspiciously cozy. Wooden tables. Tiny succulents in mismatched mugs. Indie music humming under the buzz of conversation. One girl with pink hair was sketching quietly in the corner. A couple was arguing about astrology signs over oat milk. And across the table? Blake Monroe, looking like he belonged here. Hoodie rolled to his elbows. Wristbands tucked under a coffee sleeve. His laptop open but barely touched. His eyes not leaving her. Ave stirred her drink and refused to meet his gaze. “This is not a date,” she muttered. Blake tilted his head. “Did I say it was?” “You’re acting like it is.” “You’re dressed like it is.” Ave glanced down at her cropped

POV: Blended (Ave + Blake)Ave — Wednesday Morning, Locker Room ShadowsBy Wednesday, the video had passed meme status.It became gospel.The whispers didn’t stop. The stares got worse. Even teachers looked at her like they’d seen her naked.When she got to her locker that morning, a sticky note was already waiting for her.> Guess robotics isn’t the only thing you’re good at using your mouth for 😉Ave stood there, silent. The note didn’t crumple. She just stared at it, as if burning it with her eyes could make it un-exist.It didn't.Her hands were numb. Her chest was tight.She was humiliated.Again.---Blake — Watching Her FractureFrom across the hallway, Blake caught her face as she read the note.He wasn’t close enough to read it, but the way her entire body stiffened, the way she backed into the lockers as if air itself had betrayed her—it made his skin crawl.He cut through the crowd."Ave," he said softly, reaching for her wrist.She yanked it back like he’d shocked her.“D

Ave had always been good at one thing: control. Control her grades. Control her tongue. Control how much anyone got to know her. But after Blake’s parents. After that kiss caught on camera. After the whispers in the hallway and the teachers giving her looks—not disapproval, not praise, just… curiosity—she started feeling like she wasn’t steering anything anymore. Like she was on a bike with the chain popped off, still pedaling, going nowhere. --- The Echoes of Everyone “Ave, can I talk to you for a sec?” She froze. Another teacher. Another pull-aside moment. Another soft voice with a curious undertone. You and Blake make such a great team. Are things serious? Do you think this relationship is affecting your focus? She smiled and nodded and excused herself like always, but inside her stomach twisted. Every hallway echoed. Every conversation felt like a microscope. --- Blake Doesn’t Get It In the lab later, Blake was halfway through explaining a new fix fo

POV: AveThere’s a smell in the air that Ave has come to associate with high-stakes failure — burnt wires and panic.The lab, once buzzing with a confident rhythm, now feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. The prototype isn’t responding. No light from the sensor strip. No pulse from the core logic board. Not even a flicker.Ave stares at it, willing it to wake up like some cybernetic Frankenstein, but the more she blinks, the blurrier it gets. Her fingers twitch over the keys. The cursor is frozen. So is she.Blake is crouched beside her, sleeves rolled up, sweat at his temples, typing commands into the console. His jaw is locked so tightly she’s afraid his teeth might shatter.“This can’t be real,” she whispers. “It was fine. We ran the full sequence last night. We triple-checked…”“We did.” His voice is tight, quiet. “Which means something went wrong after.”Ave feels like the floor’s been pulled from under her. “You think someone sabotaged it?”She knows who she’s thinking of. R