All Chapters of Hate You, Till I Don't : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

POV: BlakeThe auditorium hummed with electricity, every seat filled, every breath held.Blake stood backstage, arms crossed, eyes darting across the stage setup like he could memorize every panel, every cable, every light and line. His heart beat in a rhythm he couldn’t quiet—not out of fear of failing, but out of fear of freezing. This was the semi-final round. The last step before glory or disgrace."Ave’s late," he muttered, scanning the wing for the familiar swoosh of her curly ponytail.She was never late. Not for this.“Calm down,” Jaden said beside him, tightening his headset. “She’ll show. She’s not the type to ghost a battlefield.”Blake didn’t respond. His jaw tensed. He didn’t want to admit it, but his chest had this growing weight that only Ave’s presence could dissolve.Maybe it was the fact that last night, they hadn’t spoken—not even a "good luck" text. Nothing.And that terrified him more than the competition.---3 minutes before stage call…Ave rushed in, hoodie hal

POV: Ave The applause from the semi-final still echoed in Ave’s ears, even though the school auditorium was empty now. The lights had dimmed. The banners of all the competing schools had been taken down. But that clapping? That praise she didn’t ask for? It clung to her skin like sweat — loud, sticky, and unwanted. She sat alone on the bleachers, hoodie pulled over her head, chin on her knees, trying to breathe through it. She should’ve been happy. They had made it to the finals. Their project presentation was flawless. Blake’s delivery was clean, and Ave’s software ran without a hitch. Even the judges were impressed by the security architecture she’d coded from scratch. But she wasn’t happy. She wasn’t even numb. She was unraveling. Her hands trembled from the weight of too many things. Of too many people expecting her to smile. Of the image everyone saw — the composed, unshakable girl who always had an answer. But inside? Inside, she was cracking like the cheap screen prot

POV: Blake --- They sat in the dark, legs barely touching beneath the cluttered workstation table. The only light came from the muted screen of Ave’s laptop, casting a blue hue over her cheekbones and collarbone and the soft shadows under her eyes. Blake was acutely aware of how tired she looked—and how beautiful. Neither of them had spoken in almost ten minutes. Not because there was nothing to say. But because silence, lately, had become easier than pretending they weren’t changing. Ave finally broke it, her voice low and a little hoarse. “Do you ever wonder if we’re doing all this just to prove something to people who stopped watching a long time ago?” Blake turned his head slowly to look at her. “Every day.” She let out a small, surprised laugh. The kind that sounded like it hurt a little. Blake ran a hand through his hair. “When I started this competition, I told myself I was doing it for me. Not for my dad, not for the board members who call him ‘visionary,’ not to slap

POV: Ave The atmosphere in the school cafeteria was unfamiliar tonight. It was the same space we’d occupied during long project nights, but something about it felt charged—as if the walls themselves could sense the shift in all of us. There was no pressure to meet deadlines or fix prototypes. Just laughter, music from someone’s Bluetooth speaker, and the clinking of paper plates being passed around the circular tables. I sat between Erin and Liv, trying not to look across the table at Blake—but of course, I failed. Miserably. He wasn’t even doing anything special. Just leaning back with a soda can in one hand, laughing at something Jay said. But it was the way his face lit up when he smiled—the lazy tilt of his head, the tension-free angle of his shoulders—that made my chest tighten. I hated that I noticed. I hated that I cared. “I still can’t believe it’s over,” Liv murmured beside me, snapping me out of my head. She pushed her black box braids over her shoulder and leaned in.

POV: Ave The final week of school felt like a suspended breath. Everywhere Ave went, people stared a little longer. Whispered a little quieter. Her name was on the shortlist for the Grand Tech Nationals—and suddenly, she wasn’t just the smart, stuck-up girl anymore. She was one half of Team Blaze. Her stomach still flipped at the name. Not because of the competition. Not because of the spotlight. Because of him. Because of Blake Effiong, the boy who used to make her blood boil and now made her chest ache. It had been three days since the Top 2 announcement, and yet his words—I kiss you again—still lived in her veins like a second heartbeat. She should’ve told him no. Told him they needed to stay focused, needed to win first, needed to not confuse chemistry with connection. But instead, she hadn’t said anything at all. And that silence said everything. --- Ave stood in the school's design lab, staring down at the final build specs. The final project wasn’t just some prese