Chapter 64

My friends knew Jace had asked his teammates about the money, but they didn't think to tell me because they assumed I knew. When I told them I didn't, the reason for the breakup became clear to them.

Jonah and I haven't spoken about what happened, or about much of anything since. He offered to take me to school and back, but I declined. I didn't want things to be awkward between us, and especially between him and Jace, but I think he took it personally, because things haven't been the same.

Now, I'm sitting in class, staring at the back of Jace's head, trying to figure the best time to approach him. He swapped seats with some other kid a couple of days after we ended things, and I assume it's so he doesn't have to see me. Like, at all. He no longer eats in the cafeteria. I don't know where he goes or what he does at lunch, and so the only time I can really speak to him is during class. In front of everyone. Everyone who knows that something happened between us, but they don't know what exactly, and I know all this because I hear people talking about it. Still. Three weeks later. Yesterday, Sammy offered to call in a bomb threat to the school just to give people something else to talk about. I appreciated the thought, but it was completely unnecessary. I've gotten used to the gossip, the judgement. It's been my life for years.

With a heavy sigh and as much determination as my frail ego can muster, I get up from my seat and walk over to Jace. With every step I take, the room gets quieter. By the time I'm standing in front of his desk, it's dead silent. If stares could literally burn holes in the side of my head, Sammy wouldn't need to fake a bomb. My entire face would be it.

Jace doesn't look up from his computer, though I know he can see me standing here because his freakishly fast fingers slowed the moment I arrived. I tap on his desk to force his attention, and still, nothing. I squat down so my face is right beside his screen, until finally, he stops the incessant tapping on his keys and shifts his gaze. Dark brown eyes right on mine, I recognize the emptiness right away. But that's not what steals my breath, what has me second-guessing walking over here in the first place.

There's a saved file on my computer. A screenshot of the first words he'd ever written me. Words that changed how I saw him, and later, how I felt about him:

That night, out by the creek, you assumed I couldn't look you in the eyes because I hated you, and you're wrong.

You intimidate me.

Because you're so insanely beautiful, Harlow… and that beauty is intimidating.

But he's looking at me now, directly into my eyes, even if there's nothing in them but a vast void of emotion.

I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and stand to full height again, asking, my voice low, "Are the shift changes at work permanent, because I have this… thing on Tuesdays and I need to reschedule it if it's, you know…" I trail off, suddenly feeling like an idiot for thinking now was the time to do this.

Jace blinks at me. Once. Twice. And then he shifts his attention back to his laptop, where he tap, tap, taps away. "Yes, it's permanent," he deadpans, and then I just stand there, like a fucking fool, unable to move, unable to speak.

In a way, I expected Jace to hate me. Hating me is easy. I've done it for years. But I guess… I guess I didn't take into account how much it would hurt when the person you once loved is the one holding that emotion.

I mean… besides my mother.

"Is there anything else?" he asks, those dark, desolate eyes back on mine.

I shake my head. "No. There's nothing else."