Tate hadn't expected Damien to still be around. He'd left with the others after their project meeting, so seeing him standing in the doorway gave her a strange sense of déjà vu—like Saturday all over again.
She kept her expression neutral and moved to walk past him.
But he reached out, gently grabbed her arm, and pulled her back into the classroom.
The door closed behind them as he stepped in. "We've got to stop meeting like this," he said with a half-smile.
"You're the one always showing up," Tate shot back.
Damien walked over to the desk he'd been using earlier and sat down. "You said we needed to talk. So talk."
Tate folded her arms. "Not here."
He raised a brow. "Why not? Are you ashamed of being seen with me?"
"No. I just don't want anyone overhearing us."
Damien leaned back in the chair. "So what if they hear? So what if they know we kissed? It's not the end of the world."
"Keep your voice down, Damien," she said sharply. "You might not care, but I do."
He watched her for a second, then said, "What if we meet outside school?"
Tate paused. It wasn't a bad idea—she'd be able to talk to him without the fear of anyone listening in. She gave a short nod. "Fine. But somewhere far from here."
"No problem," he said. "We can leave together."
"No," she said. "Just text me the address."
Damien tilted his head slightly. "I've got a place in mind. And you getting there without help? Not likely. You couldn't even find my house last time."
Tate rolled her eyes. "That was once."
He smirked. "Still counts."
"Fine. After school."
She turned to go, but before she reached the door, he said her name.
She looked over her shoulder.
"Thanks for unblocking me. I know I didn't deserve it."
Tate didn't respond right away. She held his gaze for a moment.
Then she nodded once and walked out.
---
"Did you find your phone?" Martha asked.
"Yeah," Tate said, holding it up.
Just then, the bell rang. They both headed to class.
The rest of the school day passed quickly. With just a few minutes left, Tate glanced at the clock. Her phone buzzed with a message from Damien: Meet me outside after the bell rings.
Almost instantly, the bell rang, and Damien was one of the first to leave the classroom.
Tate bit the inside of her cheek. How was she supposed to leave with Damien without Martha noticing?
Martha was zipping up her backpack when she looked over. "You're not leaving?"
Tate gave a small smile. "I just want to go through some notes before I leave."
"We could go through them together if you don't understand," Martha offered.
"No, it's fine. I'll go over it alone. I can always ask you about anything I get stuck on later."
"Okay," Martha said. "Bye. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow," Tate replied.
As Martha walked off, guilt pricked at her again. She hated how easily the lies were starting to come.
Her phone buzzed again. Damien. Where are you?
She quickly typed back, Be patient. I'm coming.
When the classroom was mostly empty, she slipped out and headed for the school gate. Damien stood there, looking impatient.
"What took so long?" he asked.
"I was waiting for Martha to leave," she said simply.
"Let's go," she added, and they both boarded the next bus.
The ride didn't take long, but when they got off, Tate took in the unfamiliar surroundings. She had no idea this kind of place existed so close to school. It wasn't far, but it felt like a completely different world.
"Let's go," Damien said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
They walked into a small, quiet restaurant and sat at the nearest table.
Tate glanced around. The place was cozy, warm—like somewhere she wouldn't mind coming alone to clear her head.
Damien picked up the menu. "What should I order for you?"
"Just water."
He frowned. "You sure? I noticed you didn't eat lunch. Just a snack."
She blinked. She hadn't realized he'd noticed.
"Fine. I'll have a burger then."
He signaled to the waiter and placed both their orders. A short silence followed until the food arrived—two burgers and two milkshakes: one vanilla, one chocolate.
Tate frowned slightly. "I think there's a mistake. I didn't order a milkshake."
"I did," Damien said. "For both of us. I didn't know what flavor you'd like, so I asked for vanilla and chocolate. If you don't like either, I'll get strawberry."
She gave a quick shake of her head and told the waiter, "That'll be all, thank you." Then to Damien, "I'll take the chocolate."
They ate quietly for a few minutes.
When they were done, Tate sat back. "Why are you ignoring Martha?"
"I'm not ignoring her."
"You are. You asked her out, then said nothing about it. If you knew you weren't going to follow through, why ask in the first place?"
He went quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Because of you."
She stared at him. "Because of me? That's ridiculous."
"I haven't been able to get you out of my head since we kissed."
Tate's stomach turned. A part of her lit up at his words, but another part screamed at the mess this would create.
"What are you saying, Damien? You like Martha, remember? You wanted to date her. Why am I reminding you this again.
"I don't know," he muttered. "I'm sorry."
"You shouldn't be apologizing to me. You should be apologizing to Martha."
"I just... I can't go on a date with her when you're the only one I'm thinking about."
Tate went quiet. This was not how she expected this conversation to go.
"Look, Damien…" she began, but he cut her off.
"I know what you're going to say. I know I messed up. Martha's my friend, and if I wasn't ready to commit, I shouldn't have asked her out. But I can't pretend with her when you're on my mind."
"I don't want Martha getting hurt," Tate said quietly. "And I don't want to ruin my friendship with her for any reason. Just... talk to her. Please. Stop ignoring her."
Damien nodded. "I will. I'll talk to her and apologize."
"Thank you," Tate said, then took a slow sip of her milkshake, needing the pause.
But Damien wasn't done. "You know you can't just ignore the part where I said I can't stop thinking about you. You have to say something."
Tate let out a breath. "What do you want me to say, Damien?"
And the truth was—she really didn't know. She was supposed to be happy that he liked her back, right? But all she felt was tension in her chest. Damien was complicated. And this—whatever this was—could destroy the one friendship she'd worked so hard to build. She needed to forget about him. Move on. That was the right thing.
"Anything," Damien pressed. "I know you feel something too. You kissed me back."
Tate looked away, then asked "Please tell me the truth,Why did you kiss me that day?"
Damien leaned forward, his voice lower. "I was annoyed that you were ignoring me, and I wanted to talk to you about it. But while I was waiting , I kept wondering what it would feel like… kissing you."
Tate set the cup down. Then, made a decision to lie to Damien, she needed to end whatever was going on between them before it moved further than this ."I don't feel anything for you, Damien. And I don't think I ever will."
Damien blinked. "Is it because of that Allen guy?"
"So what if it is?" Tate replied.
He scoffed. "No. You can't possibly like that guy."
She met his gaze evenly. "When you treated me like dirt, Allen was one of the few people who actually treated me with respect. So please, keep your opinions about him to yourself."
Damien's jaw tightened. "I don't like him. You can't possibly like him."
Tate stood, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'm leaving. I think we're done with this conversation."
And with that, she walked out of the diner. She didn't want to go back and forth with him about Allen—she'd said what she needed to say.
She made her way to the same bus stop where they'd gotten off earlier. When the bus pulled up, she climbed in, slid into a seat near the back, and stared out the window.
She heard footsteps. Then Damien sat beside her.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have spoken like that."
Tate didn't turn to him. "Please," she said, voice even, "just go back to being the Damien who ignored me and didn't care that much. That version was easier to deal with."