the morning hit different — not soft, not golden, not gentle. it felt sharp, like the universe was nudging sara's shoulder going "wake up, girl, things are shifting."
school corridors buzzed with the usual chaos, but for the first time in days, people weren't whispering about her. they weren't looking over their shoulders, waiting for drama to fall out of the ceiling tiles like confetti at a bad birthday party.
no. today, the energy felt… suspiciously calm.
like the calm before something messy.
sara walked in with her head up, her braid swinging behind her like a quiet announcement: she wasn't hiding anymore. not from the rumors. not from the boys who stirred trouble like it was their part-time job. and definitely not from him — jace, with the hurricane eyes and that stupid habit of showing up exactly when she didn't want him to.
except today… he didn't.
he wasn't leaning on her locker.
he wasn't pretending not to watch her walk in.
he wasn't there at all.
and that? that felt wrong.
sara's stomach tightened. great. fantastic. iconic. exactly what she needed — a missing boy with a talent for emotional terrorism.
but whatever. she wasn't going to chase him. growth mindset. personal branding. boundary optimization. all that good corporate stuff.
she opened her locker.
a note fluttered out.
her breath snagged.
not jace's handwriting. not his messy slanted letters. this was too neat. too practiced. too… wrong.
meet me behind the old lab at lunch.
come alone.
signature: none. of course. because why be normal.
sara closed her eyes for a second.
her brain started connecting dots that she did not want connected — last week's rumors, the girls who were jealous, the way leena and her crew watched sara and jace like they were Netflix.
and for the first time, sara felt something she hadn't felt in chapters — danger. not dramatic danger. real danger. the type that comes wrapped in smiles and fake nails.
but at the same time… she needed answers. she needed to know why jace wasn't here.
and she needed to figure out who thought sending a secret note was a cute hobby.
time jumped like a heartbeat, and suddenly it was lunch.
she slipped out the back door of the science block, the air thick with humidity and that weird smell old buildings always have — dust, mold, and sadness.
the old lab stood behind the school grounds like a forgotten skeleton. windows cracked. paint peeling. vines climbing the walls like they wanted to escape too.
sara stepped into the shadow.
"took you long enough."
a voice.
not jace.
ethan.
the boy who'd always been somewhere in the background — quiet, observant, too smart for his own good, the type who sits in class and calculates everyone's downfall like he's running spreadsheets in his head.
sara blinked.
"why did you call me here?"
ethan shoved his hands in his pockets. "because jace didn't want you to know. but i think you should."
every cell in sara's body went cold. "know what?"
ethan hesitated — which was new. he wasn't the hesitating type. he was the "I know everything before anybody speaks" type.
finally, he said it:
"jace got into a fight this morning."
sara's voice dropped. "with who?"
"with the guys who've been trailing you. the ones who started the rumor last month. they cornered him. he didn't back down."
her heart stopped.
no. no. no. universe, delete that.
"is he— is he hurt?"
"not terrible," ethan said softly. "but he's suspended for two days."
sara felt her pulse crash like a wave inside her ribs. jace. suspended. because of her. because he always threw himself into the fire if she was even slightly warm.
she pressed her fingers to her forehead. "why didn't he tell me?"
"because he thought it would stress you out."
ugh. that man.
that beautifully frustrating, emotionally unavailable, self-sacrificial disaster.
"there's more," ethan said.
oh fantastic. corporate synergy of pain.
"what now?"
"they were planning something. the boys who jumped him. they were going to drag you into it."
sara stepped back. "drag me how?"
"screenshots. edited photos. fake messages. they were going to drop it on social at 3 p.m."
for a second, her mind emptied out like a file deleted without warning.
"so jace fought them because…"
"he wanted to stop it."
sara swallowed hard, blinking away the heat building behind her eyes.
just then — footsteps.
loud. familiar. irritated.
jace.
bruise on his cheek. bandaid near his temple. uniform wrinkled like he fought a tornado and won second place.
ethan stepped aside.
jace looked at sara like he'd been waiting hours, days, years.
then sighed like she was the only air he knew how to breathe.
"you weren't supposed to be here."
sara marched right up to him.
"you got suspended and didn't tell me? are you serious?"
his jaw flexed. "i didn't want you worried."
she smacked his arm. lightly. but emotionally? full force.
"jace, this is… this is not how you protect people. you don't throw fists when you feel things."
he dropped his gaze.
"i couldn't let them hurt you. not again."
sara's voice softened, slipping into something raw.
"you don't have to be a shield for me."
"yeah," he whispered. "i do."
her heart flipped like someone pressed refresh on her emotions.
ethan coughed awkwardly.
"i'm gonna… go. congrats on surviving your dramatic tension."
and he vanished.
now it was just sara. jace. and all the things neither of them said out loud.
jace looked at her quietly.
"did ethan tell you everything?"
"yeah."
"and you're not mad?"
"i'm very mad," sara said.
"but i'm also… proud."
he blinked. "proud?"
"you didn't fight because you're reckless. you fought because you care. but next time, talk to me. i'm not a fragile vase."
his lips twitched. "you kinda are."
she shoved him again. "shut up."
he caught her wrist. gently. carefully.
"don't disappear on me," he murmured.
"not after this."
her voice broke into something like a quiet promise.
"i'm not going anywhere."
they stood there, the world humming around them — old building, rusting pipes, late afternoon sun slicing through dust.
and in that moment, sara realized something terrifying and beautiful:
she wasn't afraid anymore.
not of rumors.
not of the people waiting to drag her name.
not of chaos.
and not of how deeply, stupidly, undeniably jace was starting to matter.