All Chapters of THE QUARTERBACK NEXT DOOR: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Lena’s POVThe next afternoon feels quieter than the days before it, not because anything has changed in the house, but because I am starting to understand its rhythm, the way certain hours stretch longer than others, and the way silence here never really feels empty, just watchful in a way I cannot fully explain.Chloe disappears upstairs after lunch without saying much, which is not unusual, and Derek is nowhere to be seen, which should make things easier but somehow doesn’t, because his presence has a way of lingering even when he is not physically in the room.I stay in the kitchen longer than I need to, rearranging things that are already arranged and wiping surfaces that are already clean, mostly because standing still gives my thoughts too much space to wander, and right now I am not in the mood to revisit anything that happened yesterday.Eventually, I give up and step outside, telling myself I just need fresh air, even though I suspect I just need a distraction.The garden st

Derek's povThere are very few things in my life that don’t make sense, mostly because I don’t allow them to, and yet somehow Lena Carter has managed to exist in a space that refuses to stay organized, like every time I think I’ve figured her out she does something that doesn’t fit, and now I’m standing outside the library longer than necessary pretending I’m here for something else when I already know exactly why I haven’t walked away.She’s sitting at the far end, exactly where she always is, surrounded by books she probably doesn’t need, her head slightly tilted as she reads, one hand resting against the page like she’s holding it in place even though there’s no reason to, and there’s something about the way she exists in that space that feels… deliberate, even when she’s not trying.It shouldn’t matter.None of this should matter.I step inside anyway, my presence enough to shift the room without effort, a few people glancing up before going back to whatever they were doing, and s

Lena's POVBy the time I step into the cafeteria, I already know I’ve made a mistake, not the kind that can be fixed by turning around and pretending I forgot something, but the kind that settles in the air before anything actually happens, like the room has already decided I’m the reason it feels more interesting today, and as I walk past tables filled with people who suddenly seem very aware of where I am, the noise doesn’t drop the way it usually does, it stretches instead, bending just enough to include me without saying my name out loud.Somewhere to my left, a phone lights up, angled just enough for two people to see, and even though I don’t look directly, I catch it again, that same image, my face caught in a moment I didn’t know was being watched, paired with a caption I didn’t agree to, and the reaction it’s getting seems to have given everyone permission to behave like they’ve been waiting for this exact kind of entertainment.I make it to the table I usually sit at, the one

Lena's POVIgnoring someone is easier when they don’t notice, when the absence of your voice blends into everything else and no one stops to question it, but Derek notices in the worst possible way, not directly, just in the small pauses that stretch a little too long when I don’t respond the way I used to, and that makes it harder than it should be, because now it feels intentional even when I don’t say anything at all.I don’t speak to him unless I have to, and even then it’s reduced to the bare minimum, short responses that answer the question without opening anything else, polite in a way that creates distance instead of closing it, and he hasn’t said anything about it yet, which somehow makes it more noticeable, because the silence between us doesn’t feel empty anymore, it feels like something that’s being observed.In the kitchen, I move around him like space naturally exists between us, not avoiding, not rushing, just adjusting without thinking too much about it, and when he sa

Derek’s POVFor a brief moment, I actually consider stopping her, saying something that makes sense, something that doesn’t immediately ruin whatever fragile, already broken thing is left between us, but the moment slips away too quickly, replaced by something sharper, something defensive that rises in my chest like it has been waiting for this exact opportunity, and before I can filter it, before I can pretend to be even slightly reasonable, I speak.“You think you’re some kind of star now,” I say, my voice cutting through the room in a way that feels deliberate, even if I didn’t fully plan it, “because someone has a crush on you?”The words land, and I see it, the way her movement pauses just slightly, the way her shoulders still for a fraction of a second, and instead of stopping there like I should, I push further, because apparently making things worse is a decision I’m committed to.“I don’t care if you talk to me or not,” I continue, colder now, sharper, like I need to convince