Nicole didn't look back.
She walked straight out the school gate, the sun too bright for how she felt inside. Her head buzzed, her limbs heavy, like her body was still catching up to what just happened.
She kept her hood up.
The streets felt loud—cars, birds, people—but it all blurred together. She didn't take the bus. She walked. Every step helped her breathe a little more, but the panic sat in her ribs like something that wouldn't fully leave.
When she got home, the house was quiet.
No Dad.
No Mark.
She was grateful.
She went straight to her room, tossed her bag to the floor, and sank into bed fully clothed. For a long time, she just stared at the ceiling. Blank. Numb. Still.
Eventually, she pulled her phone out and turned it on.
Missed calls from Jaden.
One from her dad.
No texts from Dray. She wasn't sure if that made her relieved or disappointed.
She tossed the phone aside and lay back, letting her eyes close—not to sleep, but to shut the world out.
But her brain wouldn't turn off. Sky's voice echoed. The bathroom. The guilt. Angel. Her mother.
And Marcos.
How he didn't make her feel small when she was at her weakest.
She hated that it mattered.
Nicole was still lying in bed when her phone buzzed.
Dray: "Come outside. I'm in front of your house."
She sat up slowly, staring at the message like it was in a foreign language.
How the hell did he know where I live?
She hesitated, typed, deleted, then finally sent:
Nicole: "How do you know where I live?"
The reply came fast.
Dray: "Relax. Jaden mentioned it when we were talking about where you guys stay. Not stalking you or anything."
She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the knot that formed in her chest. Still, curiosity got the better of her. She grabbed a hoodie and slipped on her slides, not bothering to
check her face before heading out.
Outside, Dray leaned against his car—same black hoodie, hands in pockets, trying to look casual. But he straightened when he saw her.
Nicole stopped a few steps from the gate, arms folded. "Seriously? You just pull up now?"
Dray gave a small grin. "What, you busy?"
She didn't answer. Just raised a brow.
He looked away for a second, then said, "I was gonna text earlier, but figured I'd just come through. Wanted to talk."
"About what?"
"The international game. Did you see the lineup?"
She blinked. That's what he came for? "You pulled up to my house to talk basketball?"
Dray shrugged, that same half-smirk playing on his lips. "I figured it was neutral territory. Less complicated."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Is it though?"
A beat passed. He looked at her differently now—more cautious. Like he was trying to read the space between them.
"You didn't answer my calls last night," he said quietly. "But then you showed up anyway."
Nicole shifted, glancing away. "I had stuff going on."
"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Same."
The silence stretched again.
Then, Dray kicked at a pebble near his foot. "Look, I'm not tryna be weird. I know the other night happened fast. Maybe too fast. But I'm not here to make it awkward."
"You just parked outside my house uninvited," she said flatly.
He laughed under his breath. "Okay. That's fair."
Nicole looked at him for a long second, then finally walked past him and leaned against the hood of his car.
"You still wanna talk about basketball?"
He turned to her, something softer in his face now. "Yeah. But I won't lie, I kinda wanted to see you too."
She didn't respond. Didn't smile.
But she didn't walk away either.
That's when the noise came.
"Nicole!"
Chelsea.
Nicole stiffened.
She turned and saw Chelsea bouncing up the sidewalk in tight jeans and too much energy, grinning like she'd just stumbled into something juicy.
"I thought that was you!" Chelsea chimed, stopping in front of them. Her gaze flicked to Dray. "Hi! I'm Chelsea. Nicole's—well—almost sister."
Nicole exhaled hard through her nose, jaw tight. "What do you want?"
Chelsea smiled sweetly, ignoring the tone. "Nothing. Just wondering if you've seen Jaden. He's not answering my texts."
"Maybe take the hint," Nicole muttered.
Chelsea blinked. "Wow, okay. What's with the attitude?" She looked to Dray. "She's always like this, but you probably already know that."
Nicole looked away, trying to breathe through the annoyance. Dray stayed quiet, watching.
Then Chelsea tilted her head. "Wait… are you Coach Dray? Or, like, you play for the academy or something?"
He raised a brow. "I'm just Dray."
Chelsea giggled. "Oooh, okay. Sorry! I just thought—anyway, I didn't know you guys were… hanging out."
Nicole's patience snapped. "We're not. Why are you still talking?"
Chelsea's smile dropped for a second—just long enough to show the sting.
Then it came right back. "Wow. Chill. I was just saying hi. God. You're always so dramatic."
She spun on her heel and walked away, muttering something about "serious issues."
Nicole watched her go with that same unreadable expression. Not hate. Not warmth. Just… uncertainty.
Dray glanced at her. "Family?"
She sighed. "Something like that."
Nicole let out a slow breath. The mood was already off before, but now it was cracked completely.
Dray glanced sideways at her. "You okay?"
Nicole didn't answer right away. She stood straighter, pulling her hoodie sleeves down, suddenly aware of how exposed she felt
"I should go," she said quietly.
Dray's brow furrowed. "You sure?"
She nodded, avoiding his eyes. "Yeah. This… wasn't a good idea. I'm not in the mood for small talk. Or anything else."
Dray straightened up from the car, but didn't move to stop her. "Nicole."
She paused, her back half-turned.
"If you're not okay, you can just say that," he said.
Nicole gave a bitter half-smile, the kind that didn't reach her eyes. "I don't say things like that."
Then she turned and started walking toward the house.
Dray stayed by the car, hands in his pockets, watching her go. He didn't chase after her. He could tell—this wasn't a moment for chasing.
Nicole didn't look back.
Nicole pushed open the front door, letting it close behind her with a soft thud. The house was quiet—too quiet for how irritated she already felt.
She stepped into the living room and immediately stopped.
Chelsea was there, sitting on the arm of the couch, leaning way too close to Jaden, who sat below her. She was laughing at something he said, twirling a piece of her hair, all fake and flirty.
Nicole's stomach tightened.
Jaden glanced up the moment the door clicked shut and met Nicole's eyes. His face shifted—relief, maybe even a little guilt.
"Hey," he said.
Chelsea turned too, like she hadn't just been in Nicole's face outside. "There you are! We were just wondering where you went." Her voice was bright, sugary. Too much.
Nicole didn't answer. Her eyes flicked between them, then settled on Jaden
"You didn't mention you having company," she said coolly.
Jaden looked uncomfortable now. "We were just talking. She came in, said your dad wasn't around—"
Nicole cut him off. "Don't explain."
Chelsea raised an eyebrow. "Relax. What's with the attitude today?"
Nicole walked past them toward the kitchen, brushing off everything—the noise, the tightness in her chest, the way her skin itched. She pulled open the fridge door, more for something to do than out of hunger.
"Seriously," Chelsea called after her, "do you ever just take a breath and chill?"
Nicole didn't respond. She was tired—mentally, physically, emotionally. She closed the fridge door, took a deep breath, and turned around slowly.
Chelsea was still perched on the arm of the couch, swinging her legs like this was some fun sleepover moment. Jaden sat awkwardly beneath her, clearly wishing he were anywhere else.
Nicole walked back into the living room, standing just a few feet from them now.
"Chelsea," she said, voice even but with an edge, " give us a minute?"
Chelsea blinked, as if surprised—but not really. "Why?"
Nicole didn't flinch. "Because I'm asking you to."
Chelsea scoffed lightly, pushing off the couch. "Okay, no need to get all territorial."
Chelsea stared at her for a beat, then looked down at Jaden, as if waiting for him to say something. He didn't.
So she rolled her eyes. "Fine." She picked up her bag from the side table. "Don't take too long. Your dad said dinner's soon, and I am not helping set the table."
She strutted out of the room, but not before brushing her shoulder against Nicole on the way.
Nicole didn't move.
Once the footsteps faded and the hallway went quiet, she turned back to Jaden.
"We need to talk," she said.
Jaden shifted on the couch as Nicole sat down beside him, not too close, but close enough that they could speak without being overheard.
For a second, neither of them said anything.
Nicole stared at the blank TV screen, her voice barely a whisper.
"Sky came at me today. She thinks I had something to do with it."
Jaden's jaw clenched. "Did she say anything to anyone else?"
Nicole shook her head. "No. Just me. Bathroom. She locked the door and lost it. Cried the whole time."
Jaden ran a hand through his hair.
"She thinks I'm behind her mom's death. She didn't say it directly, but… she knows. Or at least she's guessing."
Nicole's voice wavered for the first time, quiet but sharp. "And now Angel's in a coma. Her mom's gone. That family's done, Jaden."
He looked down at his hands. "No body meant for this to go that far."
Nicole shot him a look. "Does that matter now?"
They both sat in silence again. The clock ticking in the hall was suddenly the loudest sound in the house.
"Did we wipe everything?"
She blinked hard and turned her face away, biting the inside of her cheek.
"If anyone finds out…"
"They won't," he cut in. "But you need to hold it together, Nicole. You can't crack."
She didn't answer. Just stared ahead, her eyes glassy and tired.
"This wasn't supposed to be this real," she finally whispered.
Jaden studied her for a long second, his arms crossed, brow furrowed.
"You know what I don't get?" he said quietly. "Why you're acting like this is your loss."
Nicole didn't respond, just stared straight ahead, face unreadable.
"You didn't even like Angel," he added. "She wasn't your friend. Her mom definitely wasn't. So why does this feel like it's killing you?"
Nicole's fingers curled into her sleeves, but she didn't say a word.
"You're scared," he said, almost like it surprised him to realize it. "You've never been scared before, Nic. Not like this. Not over stuff that didn't matter to you."
She glanced at him sharply, but he didn't back down.
"I get that what happened was bad," he continued, keeping his voice low. "But you've seen worse. Done worse. And never once did I see you fall apart like this."
Nicole didn't answer. Her silence said too much.
"So what is it then?" he asked, voice softer now. "What changed?"
Her lips parted, like she might say something—but she didn't. She couldn't.
Instead, she stood up.
"I'm going to my room."
And just like that, she walked off, leaving Jaden staring after her, still wondering what it was that hit her deeper than it ever should have.
The Next Day — School Grounds
Jaden's car rolled to a slow stop in front of the school. Nicole grabbed her bag without a word and stepped out, slamming the door harder than she needed to. Her bag slung over one shoulder, hoodie half-zipped, and hair tied up like she hadn't looked in a mirror once. The sky was cloudy. Her mood matched.
He rolled the window down as she started walking.
"Nicole—"
She turned slightly, her expression unreadable.
"I'll be fine."
He watched her a moment longer, nodded once, and then pulled away.
Nicole walked through the gate, pulling her hoodie up as students passed by. Whispers were already moving in the air—muffled pieces of gossip, half-truths mixing with rumors. Angel's mom's death had hit the school like a slow-building storm. People didn't say it outright, but they were watching. Especially her.
Marcos was leaning against the gym doors, sipping from a water bottle, one earbud in. As soon as he spotted her, he pulled it out and pushed off the wall.
"You're late."
Nicole sighed. "Yeah, I know."
He held up a hand before she could say more.
"I covered for you. Told them you were doing something for the nurse."
Nicole stopped short and glared at him.
"Don't do that."
Marcos raised an eyebrow, half amused. "You're welcome?"
She took a breath. "Don't cover for me. I don't need it. If I'm late, I'm late."
He shrugged like it was nothing. "Cool. Next time I'll let Frank roast you."
Nicole rolled her eyes and started toward the door, but he caught up beside her and held out a water bottle. "Here."
She hesitated.
"Just take it," he muttered. "You look like you haven't had water since yesterday."
She grabbed it, muttered something like "thanks," and kept walking.
"You good?" he asked, more casual this time, falling into step with her.
Nicole took a sip of water and gave a short nod.
"I'm fine."
Marcos didn't push. Just let her have that lie.
As they stepped inside the gym, the sounds of bouncing basketballs, sneakers squeaking, and voices yelling filled the space. Nicole spotted Dray near the far end, tossing a ball from hand to hand.
Without looking at Marcos again, she walked off toward the team, expression neutral, movements focused—like she was already somewhere else.
She didn't make eye contact with anyone, not even Dray.
And Marcos just watched her go, chewing the inside of his cheek, before slowly walking toward the opposite end of the court.
A few girls muttered greetings, but she didn't respond. Her mind was too full. Too sharp. She reached down to tie her laces tighter and glanced across the court—where the cheerleaders usually practiced.
incomplete.
Her eyes narrowed.
Sky wasn't there.
The bright ponytails and synchronized warm-ups were missing a familiar face. Sky's spot, normally front and center, was empty like a void she hadn't meant to notice. Nicole turned away quickly, jaw tightening.
She didn't want to care. She really didn't.
Behind her, Coach Dray's whistle cut across the noise.
"Let's go! On the baseline, now!"
Everyone moved.
Nicole followed the team to the starting point, letting her body move on autopilot. But her mind stayed where it was—staring at the absence across the court.
Someone bumped her shoulder lightly.
Marcos.
"Don't trip today," he said under his breath.
Nicole gave him a sharp look, but said nothing. She wasn't in the mood.
Dray's whistle blew again, and the team took off down the court. Nicole pushed herself hard, like she had something to outrun.
The last whistle blew, and the team started to scatter. Some grabbed their bags, others lingered by the water coolers.
Nicole caught up to Dray as he was locking up the storage room. She didn't announce herself—just leaned against the wall next to him, arms crossed, sweat-damp shirt sticking to her back.
He glanced sideways. "You survived the suicides."
"no Sky today. That's weird."
Dray didn't answer right away. He focused on the padlock, clicked it shut, then finally looked over at her.
"She's at the funeral."
Nicole frowned.
"Angel's mom. Buried today."
He said it flat, like it wasn't meant to mean anything more. But it did..
Nicole blinked. "Oh."
Dray gave her a look.
She pushed off the wall and swallowed hard, eyes burning, but didn't let it show.
"Sky thinks I did it," she said finally.
Not an explanation. Not even a defense. Just truth, laid bare.
Dray didn't move, but something in his face shifted. He didn't try to fix it. Didn't say that's crazy or no way. Just let it sit there.
Nicole shook her head and stepped back.
"Forget it."
Dray stepped a little closer, voice low.
"Wanna shoot some hoops? Thought you might wanna escape the circus today. I've got the court to myself."
Nicole looked at him for a beat, then a faint smile tugged at her lips. The first one that morning.
He tossed her the ball. She caught it without even blinking.
"Just us, a dusty court, and a crooked rim."
Nicole smirked, spinning the ball lazily on her finger. "Romantic."
Dray stepped closer, his voice dipping into something softer. "Speaking of romantic… you eat yet?"
She blinked. "What?"
"Didn't feel like stopping anywhere, so I brought food from home. Egg sandwiches, plantain chips, a little fruit… might not be gourmet, but it's real."
Nicole raised a brow.
"You brought food?"
He shrugged, pulling a small paper bag from his gym bag and setting it down on the bench.
"Call it a coach's instinct. You look like someone who hasn't eaten yet."
Nicole slid her hands into her hoodie pocket, squinting against the light. "What, you invite every lost soul for breakfast with you?"
"Nah," he said, walking toward her with an easy stride. "Only the special kind of messed-up."
Nicole let out a soft, surprised laugh and shook her head. "Charming." Nicole gave him a look. "So you let me stay, just to feed me."
"Would've just asked to feed you, but that sounded kinda weird, So I went with the ball."
Nicole tried to hide the smile creeping up, but it showed anyway. "Fine. But if I don't like the food, I'm dunking on you."
He raised a brow, backing away toward the exit. "Deal. But if you do like the food…"
She narrowed her eyes playfully. "Don't push it." They started walking side by side, the bounce of the ball echoing in the background as it rolled away, forgotten for now.
They sat on the bench near the wall, He unwrapped a sandwich and handed it to her.
Nicole took a bite and let out a soft moan, eyes fluttering shut. Dray stared at her, brows raised. "Damn. That good?"
She opened one eye and pointed at him. "You shut up and eat yours."
He laughed, then took a bite of his own. Silence fell between them—not awkward, but calm.
"So," Dray said after a while, brushing crumbs off his fingers. "You doing okay?"
Nicole leaned back, eyes scanning the courtyard. "I don't want pity."
"It's not pity. It's just…" He trailed off, then looked at her. "You seem like someone who fights so hard just to stay in control, even when everything's falling apart."
Nicole blinked, her lips parting slightly.
Dray added quickly, "Not trying to play therapist or anything. Just… you're strong. But strong people snap too."
She looked away, her voice lower now. "You're annoying."
"And yet, here you are eating my sandwich with me."
She rolled her eyes again, but the corner of her mouth tugged up. "That says more about the sandwich."
"You always eat this slow?" Dray asked, glancing down at her sandwich. "We've been here twenty minutes and you're still on the first half."
Nicole shot him a sideways look. "It's called enjoying your food. I know that's a foreign concept to someone who inhales theirs."
Dray smirked,
"You out here making love to that sandwich. We gonna be here all night."
"Jealous much?"
She shook her head with a quiet laugh, then took another bite like she had something to prove.
Dray leaned in a little, dropping his voice. "Nah, I think it says you're curious. Maybe even kinda like me now."
She looked at him, just long enough to make it count. Then she popped the last bite of sandwich into her mouth and stood up.
"You talk too much."
Dray watched her brush her hands off and start walking.
"You know we never talked about that night."
"Didn't think there was much to say."
"I do." His voice was quiet. "I'm not proud of it,"
Nicole turned her face slightly.
"So what, you regret it?"
"I regret the timing," Dray said carefully. "Not you."
That made her glance at him, fast.
"I was a mess," she said under her breath. "I didn't even care what happened. I just didn't want to feel anything."
She snorted under her breath.
"Must've been that memorable."
Dray leaned forward a little.
"You don't regret it?"
Nicole smirked. "I mean, look at me. Got kicked out of my old school for sleeping with a teacher, made out with Marcos in a public bathroom, then what? Lured my new coach into his own car like a full-on cliché."
Dray looked at her steadily.
"You didn't lure me. That night… I wanted it too."
"It happened," she said flatly. "You were buzzed. I was…" She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter. I don't do the aftermath talk. It's over. Let it stay over."
Dray watched her. He didn't push. He just said, quieter this time:
"You loved it, didn't you?"
She didn't say anything. But she didn't walk away either.
The calm between them was easy, the kind of comfort that didn't need a lot of words.
the door creaked open.
"Well, well. Dray out here feeding strays now?"
Both Nicole and Dray turned at the same time.
Anna.
Big, bold, and standing tall even though her eyes were red and glassy. She had on a tight jacket, jeans, and heels that clicked loud as she approached.
Dray's face shifted. "Anna."
Anna crossed her arms, her eyes flicking down to Nicole like she wasn't worth the sidewalk she was Standing on. "Oh, you're the one he's wasting time with now."
Nicole raised an eyebrow.
Anna scoffed. "I was driving by, Figured I'd say hi. Didn't realize I'd be walking into a charity date."
Dray stepped in, his tone calm but firm. "Anna, don't do that."
Anna looked at him, and for a second the wall cracked. Her voice dropped a bit. "He left. Philip . Just—left. No warning. No call. Nothing."
Nicole's eyes narrowed a little, so this wasn't a drama act. The girl was hurting—real pain, just buried under all that attitude.
Dray sighed. "Come on. I'll take you home."
Anna waved him off, her words slurring slightly. "I drove. Don't need your pity ride."
Dray stepped forward. "Anna, you can't even walk straight in those heels."
"I'm fine."
"You're not," he said flatly. "And you know it."
Nicole stood a few feet back, arms folded, watching them without expression—but her eyes missed nothing.
Anna rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I don't need anything from you."
Nicole smirked. "Cool. Then keep it cute and keep walking."
Anna didn't answer right away. Then, after a beat, she reached into her bag, pulled out her keys, and held them out—toward Nicole.
"You wanna be helpful? Drive my car to his place. Since you're clearly sticking around."
Nicole looked at the keys, then at Dray, then back at Anna. "You trust me with your car?"
Dray exhaled, clearly hating even asking. "Her car's outside. I'll ride with her in mine, but someone's gotta drive hers to my place. She's not in any state."
Nicole looked at Anna, who was now leaning on a bench, quietly muttering something to herself.
Anna's smile was tight. "Don't get excited. It's just a ride."
Nicole finally clicked her tongue and muttered, "Fine. But I'm not helping her into the damn seat."
Nicole watched Anna hand over the keys with that smug little smile, like it physically hurt her to need help. Dray gave Nicole a look—then nodded once. Grabbed his bag from the bench, slung it over his shoulder, and returned to find Anna swaying lightly on her heels by the door, arms crossed and pouting like a teenager.
"See you there," he said.
And just like that, the two of them walked off to dray's car, leaving Nicole standing there.
"Yeah, no problem," she muttered to herself. "Just play chauffeur for the emotionally unstable ex.coach"
She followed them behind.
Outside Nicole watched as Anna slid into the passenger seat of his car.
Dray gave Nicole a quick glance. "You good?"
Nicole leaned against Anna's car, arms crossed. "Sure. I'll bring the car. Try not to crash on the way over."
Dray didn't reply. He just nodded once and pulled off,
She pulled out behind Dray's car, only to get stuck behind a crawling delivery van at a red light.
"Perfect," she said flatly, tapping the steering wheel as the van inched forward like it had nowhere to be.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Dray:
Anna's place—2629 Raymond Ave. Just park on the street.
By the time Nicole finally made it to the house, the driveway was already full—Dray's car, and another she didn't recognize. She parked a few houses down, grumbling as she killed the engine.
Reaching for her phone, something caught her eye.
Dray's wallet. Sitting right there on the center console like it belonged to her now.
Nicole stared at it. "Seriously?" She picked it up, flipping it over in her hand. "Who just leaves their wallet behind?"
She leaned back in the seat, exhaling slowly, the night already doing too much.
Nicole stared at the wallet for another second, then blew out a sharp breath. "Whatever," she muttered, shoving it into her hoodie pocket. "Not tryna have him thinking I'm out here stealing."
She stepped out of the car, slammed the door a little harder than needed, and started toward the house.
The porch lights were on, music low inside—some slow, sad R&B playing like the house itself was drunk.
Nicole hesitated at the door, then knocked once. The front door was slightly open. Not wide—just enough to make her pause.
"…Hello?" she called, knocking lightly. "You left the door open."
No answer.
She hesitated, then pushed the door wider and stepped inside. The house was dim, shadows stretching across the walls like secrets. Only a single lamp lit the living room in a soft amber glow.
Still, it was quiet. Still.
Then she heard it.
A sound. Soft. Sharp. Breathless.
Nicole froze
She moved down the hall slowly, her fingers gripping the wallet she came to return. The air thickened with every step. Another sound—this one unmistakable. Her heart stuttered.
She turned the corner
And saw them.
Anna. Dray.
Pressed up against the hallway wall like gravity didn't matter. Clothes elsewhere, bodies tangled, mouths desperate. Anna's hand was in his hair. His lips were on her neck. Every breath between them felt stolen, like the world outside didn't exist.
Nicole didn't move. Couldn't.
The wallet slipped slightly in her hand. Her throat tightened.
They hadn't seen her.
Her chest rose and fell, uneven and silent. She stood in the doorway like a ghost watching the living. The scene in front of her was unmistakable—messy, intimate, real. Not a mistake. Not a misunderstanding.
She stepped back, quietly.
No dramatic gasp. No slammed door.
Just stillness.
She placed the wallet on the entryway table, fingers trembling, and pulled the door shut behind her—this time, gently. Firmly.
Outside, the night air bit at her skin, but it didn't compare to the sting in her chest. She stared down at the car keys still in her hand. Thought about throwing them. Thought about texting something savage. Thought about screaming.
Instead, she just stood there.
Breathing in.
And breaking apart.