By the time Friday rolled around, I had a pounding headache, zero motivation, and exactly five posters for the Fall Dance—all of which had been ripped off the walls by some ghost of chaos a.k.a. the wind, freshman boys, or possibly both.
And because the universe hates me, AceCarter had skipped the last two dance committee meetings without so much as a text. Not that I'd given him my number. Not that I wanted him to have it. Not that I imagined what he'd text, either.
Okay, maybe a little.
I stood outside the art room with Melanie, holding the last two semi-wrinkled posters and a roll of tape.
"I told you," she said. "You give a bad boy responsibility and he disappears."
"He said he'd help with music," I muttered.
Mel raised an eyebrow. "And did he?"
"No."
"Exactly."
I sighed. "Maybe he got caught up with something. Or forgot. Or—"
"Or maybe," she interrupted, "you're making excuses for a guy who barely knows your name but knows exactly how to mess with your head."
I didn't reply.
Because the annoying part?
She wasn't wrong.
---
By lunch, I was over it. Or at least pretending to be. Until I walked into the cafeteria and saw Ace… with her.
BrielleMonroe.
Blonde. Legs for days. The type of girl who wore red lipstick on a Wednesday and didn't get it on her teeth. Also—Ace's ex.
They were sitting at the back table, way too close. She laughed at something he said, touching his arm like she owned it. And he let her.
I stood frozen, a mix of confusion and… something ugly bubbling in my chest. Jealousy? No. Couldn't be. I had no claim. No reason to care.
Except maybe I did.
Melanie appeared beside me, saw the scene, and muttered, "Don't say I didn't warn you."
I bit my lip. Hard.
This wasn't my business.
This wasn't anything.
---
After school, I stayed behind in the gym to hang some lights for the dance setup. It was quiet. Peaceful. No Ace. No Brielle. Just me, a ladder, and way too much tape.
Until the door creaked open.
I didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"You ditched," I said flatly.
"I had something to deal with," he replied.
I climbed down the ladder and turned to face him. "Right. Like your ex-girlfriend's lip gloss."
His brows shot up. "Excuse me?"
"I saw you with Brielle at lunch."
His mouth opened like he was about to deny it—but then he didn't. "Yeah. She came over. Wanted to talk."
"Looked like more than talking."
He tilted his head. "Why do you care?"
"I don't," I lied, too quickly. "I just need someone who takes this seriously. I thought maybe, for once, you would."
Ace stepped closer, eyes unreadable. "You're mad because I skipped one meeting and talked to someone I used to date?"
"I'm not mad," I snapped.
He smirked. "You sound mad."
"I'm not—" I stopped, realizing I'd raised my voice. I took a breath. "Forget it. Just go."
"No."
I blinked. "What?"
"I'm not leaving. Not until you tell me what's really bothering you."
"I already did."
"No, you didn't."
And then, to make things worse, he took another step toward me. Close enough that I could smell his cologne again. Close enough that I hated how fast my heart was beating.
"You want to know why I didn't tell you about Brielle?" he asked quietly.
"No. I really don't."
"She's nothing to me."
I stared at him. "You didn't look like it."
He ran a hand through his hair. "Hope, you don't get it. Everyone expects me to fall back into who I was. Brielle does too. She thinks all she has to do is smile and I'll crawl back."
"And will you?"
"No."
I didn't speak. I didn't trust myself to.
"I don't want her," he said. "I want…"
He trailed off.
I swallowed. "You want what?"
Silence.
And then, as if he regretted even going there, he stepped back.
"Never mind," he muttered.
"No. Say it."
He looked at me, raw and unfiltered. "I want something real. For once."
And just like that, the floor under me shifted.
---
We didn't speak again for the rest of the setup. But he stayed. Helped with the lights. Untangled cords. Even fixed one of the speakers.
It was… quiet.
Tense.
Like something had cracked open, but neither of us wanted to look inside.
---
Later that night, I got a text from an unknown number.
Ace: I'm sorry I messed up today.
Ace: Still want me to DJ?
I stared at the screen for a long moment, heart thudding in my chest.
Then I typed back.
Me : Only if you play one slow song.
Ace : Only if it's with you.
I threw my phone across the bed and buried my face in a pillow.
What was I getting myself into?
---