Amy’s POV
His presence came with the same heaviness it always had—a mix of arrogance and something darker, more complicated. The hallway was empty except for a few stragglers packing up their bags. I could hear my own heartbeat as he stepped closer, the locker door still cracked open in front of me like a shield I wasn’t sure would hold.
“Thought you were done with me, Red?” Charlie’s voice was low, smug, sharp enough to make me flinch. “Liar.”
I froze, my hand still gripping the cold metal. The nickname, the tone, the way he looked at me like he owned the space around me—it sent a chill down my spine. I turned to face him, trying to stay calm, trying not to let him see how much it still got to me.
“Back off, Charlie,” I said, my voice steady but tight.
Instead of backing away, he leaned in further, invading my space like he always did when he wanted control. His lips curled into a smirk as his eyes dropped to my mouth, then back up again.
“I see the way you look at me,” he whispered. “Still want me. No kiss from Carter changes that.”
My stomach twisted.
Without thinking, I shoved him back—not hard, but enough to make it clear I was done being quiet, done being polite. He didn’t stumble. He just chuckled, like the whole thing amused him.
That’s when another voice cut in, deeper and colder.
“Back off, Reyes.”
James.
He stood at the end of the hallway, someone probably called him, his jaw tight, eyes locked on Charlie like he was one wrong word away from throwing another punch. His presence was like a current, pulling me out of the place I had been stuck in. My breath came easier just seeing him there.
Charlie rolled his eyes and stepped back, lifting his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, quarterback. Just catching up with an old friend.”
James walked toward us slowly, shoulders tense. “She’s not your friend. Not anymore.”
Charlie scoffed but didn’t push it. He turned and walked off like he had better things to do, but I knew he’d gotten exactly what he wanted. He’d stirred something in me—something I didn’t know how to name. I stood there, trying to catch my breath, but I felt hollow. Like I had gone right back to being that girl who doubted everything about herself.
James stepped closer, his voice softer now. “You okay?”
I nodded, but it felt like a lie.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. My thoughts spun in circles—Charlie’s words, Camilla’s photo, Coach’s suspension, the stares in the hallways. I felt like I was walking through fog, unsure if I was awake or still dreaming.
So the next day, I didn’t go to school.
I didn’t text anyone. I didn’t answer any calls. I just walked to the bleachers and sat there, knees pulled to my chest, staring out at the empty field. The wind was cool, and the silence made everything feel heavier. I wanted to disappear—not forever, just for a while.
Around noon, I heard footsteps.
James.
He didn’t say anything right away. He just sat next to me, unwrapping a granola bar and offering me half without a word. I took it, mostly because it felt like the kindest thing anyone had done for me in days.
After a few quiet minutes, he nudged my arm gently.
“Let’s disappear for the day.”
I blinked. “What?”
He smiled. “Come on. Get in the Jeep. No maps. No plans. Just… away.”
I hesitated. Then I stood up.
“Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s go.”
We drove for hours with no destination. The windows were down, the music low, and the road stretched out in front of us like something from a movie. We passed quiet towns, winding roads, and old gas stations that sold melted candy bars and dusty postcards.
Somewhere between one small town and the next, James pulled off onto a scenic overlook. The view was simple—a stretch of hills and sky—but it felt like freedom.
We sat on the hood of his Jeep, legs dangling over the edge, sharing a bag of chips.
“My dad,” he said after a while, “he was a quarterback too. College-level. Thought he’d go pro. He didn’t. So now I’m the replacement plan.”
I looked at him, surprised.
“Football was never my dream,” he continued, his voice quiet. “It was just… expected. Like I owed him that.”
I let the silence stretch before I spoke. “I always thought Charlie loved me because I was perfect. I tried so hard to stay in the lines. To say the right things. Smile the right way. But even then… it was never enough.”
James turned to me. “That’s because you weren’t supposed to shrink to fit someone else’s version of you.”
Tears pricked my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. I didn’t want to be sad anymore. I just wanted to feel something real.
“I’m working towards this internship but I feel like I’m not enough.”
James reached for my hand. His fingers were warm, steady, certain.
“You’re more than enough,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Just say the word—and I’ll prove it.”