All Chapters of THE LINE BETWEEN US : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Closing time crept up faster than I thought.The last bell had already rung, and students spilled out of classrooms like water breaking through a dam, filling the hallways with chatter and the squeak of sneakers on the polished floor. Normally, this was the part of the day where I’d gather my books, clutch my lunchbox tighter than necessary, and head toward the gate with one thought in my mind: wait for Damian.And so I did.I found myself at the same spot I always lingered, just outside the school doors, standing near the railing where the setting sun always threw long shadows across the pavement. The air was cooling, the heat of the day finally giving way to something gentler.The longer I stood there, the heavier the realization pressed against my chest. Of course he wasn’t coming. Marianne had made it perfectly clear at lunch, my place in his car had already been filled.I hugged my arms around myself, embarrassed at how childish it suddenly felt. Standing here, waiting for him li

I stayed in my room all day, curled up against the headboard, my curtains drawn tight enough to swallow most of the sunlight. The world outside kept moving, I knew that much, the dull hum of traffic filtered faintly through the glass, voices sometimes drifted past the house, but for me, time just… stopped.I wasn’t tired, but my body refused to move. I couldn’t read. Couldn’t focus. The laptop sat idle on my desk, Taylor behind it, a pile of notebooks untouched beside it. All I could do was stare at the ceiling and feel this heaviness pressing against my chest.The image wouldn’t leave my head. Damian holding Marianne. His arms wrapped around her like they belonged there. His face buried in her neck like she was home.And me? I was the outsider watching from a distance with a stupid box of cookies pressed to my ribs.I thought maybe the ache would fade by evening, but it only grew sharper, needling deeper, and by the time I dragged my laptop onto my bed to drown myself in movies, I al

I barely remember drifting off last night, just that Taylor’s voice had been the last sound in the room. Soft, steady, carrying something warm enough to keep me from collapsing all the way into pieces.Now, the only thing I’m aware of is the ache in my ankle and the faint sound of someone breathing on the floor.Taylor.He was curled up in a mess of blanket and pillow like some oversized kid, one arm tossed across his face, chest rising and falling steadily. He’d stayed. He’d actually called his mom last night to let her know he wouldn’t be back. I’d caught the brief shadow across his expression then, his voice low, almost hesitant as he told her. For just a second, his features had clouded over, heavy and lost in thought. But almost as quickly, he’d shaken it off, plastering on his usual grin, throwing me some half-teasing comment about how I’d ruined his plans of eating the cookies himself.Mom had told him about the remaining Cookies in the kitchen. He’d lit up like it was Christm

If there was ever a week that felt like it would swallow me whole, it was midterms week. The halls buzzed with a kind of nervous energy that was impossible to ignore, students with books clutched to their chests, some whispering formulas under their breath, others pacing like they were walking toward their doom. Taylor was one of them. He slouched against the lockers beside mine, his hair a mess, a pencil sticking out of his hoodie pocket like a forgotten weapon. He groaned so dramatically that a few people down the hallway actually glanced at him. “I’m going to flunk math,” he muttered, like it was already a fact written in stone. “Numbers hate me. They see me and they just… laugh.” I zipped my bag closed and shot him a look. “Numbers don’t laugh, Taylor.” “They laugh at me,” he insisted, pressing his palm to his chest like he was in the middle of a tragic monologue. “Mocking me, haunting me. X and Y are conspiring against me.” I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “You’re ridiculou

The sound of footsteps climbed the stairs, light and steady, before a soft knock echoed against my door. “Come in,” I murmured. My mom stepped inside. Her hair was scraped back into a messy bun, wisps falling free around her face, and there was that familiar quiet tiredness she always carried, except tonight, it felt softer, almost lighter, like she’d been waiting all day just to see me. I held out my results. For a moment she only stared, eyes skimming the paper in silence, until her lips curved into a smile so bright it startled me. “Autumn,” she breathed, her voice catching. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” From the corner of the room, Taylor grinned, but I barely noticed. “Thanks,” I whispered. She sat beside me on the bed, her fingers brushing mine absently the way she always did when her thoughts wandered. But then, as if something shifted, she tilted her head, studying me too closely. “So…” Her tone was casual, but I knew her well enough to hear the careful edg