Always you

CHAPTER 5 : THE SECOND DAY

(Tamsyn’s POV)

The morning sunlight spilt over the city skyline, glinting off sleek buildings and luxury cars parked along the streets. My own ride pulled up to the driveway just as I was adjusting the strap of my designer bag. The car’s engine hummed softly, a quiet reminder that life hadn’t slowed for anyone — and neither had Ridgeview High.

I stepped in, settling into the leather seat, and glanced out the tinted window. The streets blurred past in gold and grey streaks. Money didn’t fix heartbreak, I reminded myself, even as the plush comfort of the car tried to soothe the knots in my chest.

Yesterday had been… overwhelming. Every glance, every subtle smirk from Lexi, every fleeting look from Daxon had left my heart jittering in ways I hadn’t expected. I wasn’t walking into school this time — I was arriving in style, but that didn’t mean I felt any braver.

The driver gave me a polite nod, and I returned it without speaking, letting my thoughts wander to the day ahead.

---

Ashley’s arrival at Ridgeview was just as lavish — she’d been dropped off in her own car, gleaming white and perfectly polished. As soon as we spotted each other in the courtyard, a grin spread across her face. She leaned against her car, waving, her designer backpack casually slung over one shoulder.

“Tams!” she called, her voice bright, carrying over the bustle of students streaming into the school. “You survived the first day?”

I forced a smile, stepping out of my own vehicle. “Barely,” I admitted, letting her link her arm with mine as we walked toward the entrance. The courtyard felt smaller somehow, constricted by the weight of yesterday’s memories.

“You were fine,” Ashley said firmly. “Lexi’s not going to get to you. Not today, not ever.”

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But every time I saw Daxon leaning casually against the steps, talking to his friends, my stomach twisted. He looked the same — impossibly handsome, the way he always did, with that aura that made everyone else fade into the background.

---

The first period arrived quickly, and we found our seats in math class. I pulled out my notebook and tried to focus, but my attention kept straying. Daxon wasn’t at the front, wasn’t distracting the class overtly, but he was there. Always there. Always present in my line of sight, making my chest ache in ways I hadn’t expected.

Ashley leaned closer, whispering, “Stop staring. You’re going to give yourself away.”

“I… can’t help it,” I admitted quietly, my pencil hovering above the page, tracing numbers without actually thinking about them. “He’s everywhere I look.”

She rolled her eyes, though gently. “You’re sixteen again, aren’t you? Heartbroken and completely helpless.”

I bit my lip, refusing to answer. She was right. My heart hadn’t healed, hadn’t stopped remembering that day when I was sixteen, when Daxon had walked away, leaving me with nothing but questions and bruised pride.

---

Lunchtime arrived like a tidal wave. The cafeteria was loud, buzzing with students talking, laughing, and trading stories. Ashley and I found a table near the centre, both of us safe from confrontation but close enough to observe.

Daxon’s table was crowded, his three best friends sprawled casually, joking, and leaning into his magnetic energy. He didn’t notice me right away, which was both a relief and a torment. Lexi, of course, had made her way nearby, laughing too loudly at his jokes, brushing her hair back in that familiar calculated way.

I sat down, keeping my posture perfect, pretending not to notice the flutter in my chest. “Ignore her,” I whispered to Ashley.

“I’m trying,” she said, her voice low but amused. “But she’s relentless.”

I nodded. Lexi’s games were subtle, precise, and designed to provoke. And yet, I didn’t care. All my attention was on Daxon — his laugh, his posture, the way he leaned back in his chair and looked around the cafeteria as if he owned the room.

---

We ate quietly, Ashley and I exchanging small talk, laughter muffled by the hum of the crowd. But my eyes kept flicking toward him. Every glance felt electric. Memories of sixteen-year-old heartbreak flashed in my mind: the first time we held hands, the fight that had ended everything, the way he had left so suddenly, so carelessly.

Lexi wasn’t absent, of course. She positioned herself strategically, close enough to draw attention but not close enough to force a confrontation. Every move she made screamed, Look at me, Daxon, but his eyes remained subtly on the room, searching for something else — something he didn’t find in her.

I felt a mix of relief and anticipation. Relief that he didn’t notice Lexi’s attempts, anticipation that he might notice me instead.

---

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze. Classes blurred together. Every hallway, every corner, every glance from him pulled me back to memories I thought I had buried. My body remembered the ache from sixteen, my chest still tightened with longing and fear.

Ashley stayed close as ever, chatting quietly, keeping me grounded. I noticed small details, like the tilt of Daxon’s head when he laughed with his friends, the subtle way his brow furrowed when something bothered him. Every observation made my heart race, every memory of sixteen-year-old Tamsyn surge with fresh intensity.

Lexi hovered, subtly, carefully, waiting for any slip, any sign of weakness. But I had learned. I had survived before. I could survive again.

---

By the time the final bell rang, I was exhausted — emotionally, mentally, physically. Our drivers were waiting, cars gleaming in the school parking lot. I slid into the back seat of my own, the soft leather comforting, the hum of the engine grounding me.

Back at home, the quiet luxury of my mansion did little to calm my racing thoughts. My siblings, Hale and Wren, played nearby, their laughter a soft counterpoint to my churning mind. Jacob was busy with work, barely noticing my entrance, and my mother, the CEO, was deep into her office tasks. Riches couldn’t shield me from the ache, from the memories, from the constant tug of Daxon’s presence in my thoughts.

I sank into my bed, staring at the ceiling, recalling every detail of the day: the cafeteria, his laugh, the way he didn’t even glance at Lexi. I remembered sixteen-year-old heartbreak, the pain, the betrayal, the quiet hope that one day he might realise what he had lost.

Sleep wouldn’t come easily. My mind replayed every glance, every subtle smile, every flicker of emotion from Daxon. I whispered into the quiet, “Tomorrow, I’ll survive again. I can survive him. I have to.”

Because he wasn’t just there physically. He was in my chest, my mind, my memories. And that scared me more than anything.