Amy’s POV
The silence inside the Jeep felt thick, like it was pressing against my ears, making everything louder—my own heartbeat, my shallow breaths, and the quiet sniffles I couldn’t control. I sat curled up in the passenger seat, hugging my knees, my sleeves wet with tears. I didn’t bother to wipe them away anymore. They just kept coming, pouring down my cheeks and soaking into the fabric of my hoodie.
My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. One minute I was picking up a cheer uniform and planning to surprise my boyfriend. Next, I walked into his room and found Camilla—my so-called best friend—on top of him like she belonged there. And Charlie… he hadn’t even said a word. Not when I screamed, not when I begged to understand. He just sat there, with that same stupid look on his face like I was the one who had done something wrong.
Now I was sitting in a stranger’s car, still in my uniform, still shaking, and I didn’t even know his name. And the truth was, I didn’t care.
I didn’t want to think.
I didn’t want to feel.
I just wanted to disappear.
For several minutes, the boy beside me didn’t speak. He just kept driving, one hand on the wheel and the other resting near the gear shift. His jaw was tight, and his eyes stayed on the road, but every now and then, I could feel him glance over at me, like he was making sure I hadn’t completely fallen apart.
Then, finally, he said something.
“Are you gonna cry until we flood the whole town?” he asked, his tone light, like he was trying to make a joke without pushing too hard. “Because, seriously, you could start your own bottled water brand at this point.”
At first, I didn’t respond. I was too stunned. Did he really just say that?
But then, against all odds, a tiny sound slipped out of me—a weird, strangled laugh that caught in my throat and turned into a hiccup. I covered my mouth with my hand, surprised at myself, and then another little gasp escaped. The tears were still there, but somehow, I was laughing too.
“Who even says something like that?” I asked, my voice hoarse and thick.
He shrugged with a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “People with excellent comedic timing.”
I sniffled again, finally daring to look at him fully. The glow from the streetlights lit up the side of his face—sharp cheekbones, strong jawline, messy dark curls that looked like he hadn’t bothered to tame them all day. There was something strangely familiar about his face, but it took me a second to realize why.
And then it hit me.
I stared at him, stunned. “Wait…” I said slowly, my eyes widening. “You’re James Carter.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Yeah,” he said. “You know me?”
Of course I knew him.
Everyone knew him.
James Carter—the quarterback from Louisville High, our school’s biggest rival. Every football game between our teams was a war. Every time he stepped on the field, my ex-boyfriend Charlie would scream at the TV, yelling things like “Crush him!” or “That Carter kid’s going down!” like it was personal. His name was practically a curse word in our house during football season.
And now he was here.
Driving me through the night like he didn’t have anything better to do. Like saving a stranger from a breakdown in the street was something he just… did.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why are you being nice to me?” I asked, genuinely confused.
He looked over at me, his smirk returning. “Because I’m not a dick like your boyfriend.”
I stared at him, trying to decide if he was serious or just trying to be clever. But there was no teasing in his eyes this time. Just honesty. Like he actually meant it.
I didn’t say anything right away. I just turned back toward the window, watching as the lights of the town flickered by. Everything felt so upside down. Just a few hours ago, I was practicing cheer stunts and thinking about what color lip gloss to wear. Now I was in James Carter’s Jeep, trying not to cry again while my heart felt like someone had smashed it into a thousand pieces.
The silence returned for a while, but this time, it didn’t feel heavy. It felt… strange. Safe, almost.
After a few more turns, James slowed down and pulled into a familiar parking lot. I looked up to see the glowing yellow sign.
“McDonald’s?” I asked softly, surprised.
He parked the Jeep, threw it into park, and turned toward me with a sideways smile.
“So…” he said, tapping his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, “what do you want?”
I blinked at him, confused for a second.
He grinned wider, eyes playful.
“Besides revenge.”