Lola POV
I’m not supposed to confide in Jace Reyes.
We’re rivals. Period.
We’re the last two people who should be sitting side by side in a half-empty gym, sweat still clinging to our skin, breaths slowing after hours of pretending our problems can be lifted away with weights.
But here I am.
Telling my whole life story to Jace fucking Reyes.
“My parents died,” I blurted out, staring at the scuffed floor. “Car accident. Five years ago today.”
He didn’t say anything.
So I kept talking.
“And Cassian… he used to care. He used to show up. Every practice. Every game. Every anniversary. But lately? He misses everything. And when he’s there, he’s not even really there. He just stares at Darla like she’s got the last brain cell he’s ever gonna use.”
Jace snorted. “So you’re saying I actually have a shot at Regionals this year?”
I didn’t even think—I just smacked him in the chest.
He laughed, hard. “Kidding! Damn, Sinclair. You pack a punch.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re not funny.”
He smirked. “No, but you’re way too easy to rile up.”
“I swear, one day I’m going to shove a volleyball down your throat.”
“And I’d still serve better than your brother,” he said with a grin.
I glared at him, but something in me… cracked. Not in a bad way. In a relieved way.
Jace leaned back on the bench, stretching his long legs out. “Look. Maybe your brother’s just going through something. Maybe he doesn’t wanna be a volleyball prodigy anymore.”
I blinked. “What?”
He shrugged. “Maybe he’s tired. Of the pressure. The expectations. The whole legacy thing.”
I stared at him. “Shut up. He wants this. He always has. It’s… it’s how we honor our parents.”
Jace tilted his head toward me. “Sure. You do. But maybe he doesn’t.”
I frowned. “Why would you say that?”
“Because sometimes… we just are.” He didn’t look at me when he said it. His voice dropped just a little. Quiet. Honest. Heavy.
I paused. “What do you mean?”
There was a flicker—just a flicker—in his eyes. Something raw. Something real. Something I wasn’t supposed to see.
But then, just like that, he smirked again and leaned forward. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
Silence filled the space between us.
Until he looked down and grinned. “You know you’re standing very close to my chest, right?”
My mouth dropped. “Ew!”
I shoved him so hard he almost fell off the bench. He caught himself, laughing. “Okay, okay. I deserved that.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he said, still smiling.
“Just ignore it,” I muttered, pulling my hair up again. “I was in a vulnerable state.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Of course you were.”
I gave him a look. “Don’t.”
“What?” he said, hands up like he was innocent. “It was nice seeing this side of you, Sinclair.”
I scoffed. “You’ll never see it again.”
He stood, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
I crossed my arms.
He started walking toward the exit, but before he left, he glanced over his shoulder.
“See you around, Sinclair.”