Sparks & Spite

Chapter 5: The Truth

The first sign that something was wrong came on a Monday.

Not during class.

Not during lunch.

Not even during one of Amara and Ethan's usual arguments.

It happened after school.

And Ethan wasn't supposed to hear it.

The library session had gone longer than expected.

Their project was due in three weeks, and both of them were determined to get ahead.

Unfortunately, that meant spending more time together.

A fact neither would admit they were beginning to enjoy.

"Your handwriting is impossible to read."

Ethan looked up from his notebook.

"My handwriting is fine."

"It looks like a spider walked through ink."

"That's rich coming from you."

Amara gasped dramatically.

"Are you insulting my handwriting?"

"I'm stating facts."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're annoying."

"You're dramatic."

For a moment, neither looked away.

Then Amara laughed.

A real laugh.

Not the short, guarded ones she usually gave.

The sound surprised both of them.

For a second, Ethan forgot what he was about to say.

Amara noticed immediately.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You were staring."

"I was thinking."

"Same thing."

"Not even close."

Despite her words, she was smiling.

The sight did something strange to Ethan's chest.

Something he ignored immediately.

By the time they finished, the library was nearly empty.

The sun had already begun to set.

Orange light filtered through the windows.

Most students had gone home.

"See you tomorrow," Ethan said.

Amara nodded.

"Try not to fall behind."

"There she is."

"What?"

"The rivalry."

She rolled her eyes.

Then left.

And Ethan found himself watching her go.

Again.

"You're hopeless."

Ethan jumped.

Noah appeared from behind a bookshelf.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough."

"Noah."

"I'm just saying."

"No."

"You like her."

"No."

"You totally do."

Ethan grabbed his bag.

Noah followed.

Still talking.

As usual.

The hallway outside the library was mostly empty.

A few students lingered near classrooms.

Teachers packed up for the day.

Ethan and Noah headed toward the parking lot.

Then Ethan stopped.

A voice drifted from an open office nearby.

The guidance counselor's office.

The door wasn't fully closed.

Normally, he would've kept walking.

Then he heard a familiar name.

"...Amara."

He froze.

Noah noticed.

"What?"

Ethan raised a hand.

The counselor's voice continued.

Gentle.

Concerned.

"...you've been coming here every week for almost a month."

Silence.

Then Amara's voice.

Quiet.

Tired.

"I know."

Ethan's stomach tightened.

Counseling?

Amara?

The girl who acted like she had everything under control?

"Have things improved at home?"

Another pause.

A long one.

Then—

"No."

The single word barely reached the hallway.

But Ethan heard it.

Every syllable.

The counselor spoke carefully.

"You don't have to carry all of this alone."

"I'll be fine."

"You always say that."

"I'm serious."

"Amara."

Silence.

Then a shaky laugh.

Not a happy one.

The kind people used when they were trying not to cry.

Ethan had never heard her sound like that before.

Never.

The counselor spoke again.

"What happened after the rankings?"

Ethan felt his chest tighten.

He shouldn't be listening.

He knew that.

But he couldn't move.

Inside the office, Amara exhaled slowly.

"My dad didn't speak to me for two days."

The words hit harder than Ethan expected.

"What?"

Noah whispered.

Ethan didn't answer.

The counselor did.

"Because you came second?"

Another pause.

Then—

"He's done worse."

The hallway suddenly felt colder.

Inside the office, Amara stared at the floor.

She hated these conversations.

Hated saying things out loud.

Because once you said them, they became real.

And if they were real—

Then maybe she couldn't keep pretending anymore.

The counselor waited patiently.

Eventually, Amara spoke.

"Sometimes I think if I stopped getting good grades, nobody would know who I am."

The admission hurt.

More than she'd expected.

The counselor's expression softened.

"Your grades are not your identity."

"They are at home."

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Silence filled the room.

Heavy.

Painful.

Honest.

Outside, Ethan felt like someone had punched him.

For years he'd viewed their rivalry as exactly that.

A rivalry.

A game.

Competition.

He'd assumed she wanted first place as much as he did.

Because she enjoyed winning.

Because she was ambitious.

Because she loved proving people wrong.

Now—

He wasn't so sure.

The image he'd built of Amara suddenly cracked.

And through those cracks, he saw something else.

A girl who was exhausted.

A girl who was scared.

A girl carrying far more than she should.

Noah looked unusually serious.

For once, he had nothing to say.

Eventually, Ethan stepped away from the office door.

His heart felt heavy.

Guilty.

Because all this time—

Every victory he'd celebrated.

Every ranking he'd beaten her in.

Every point he'd scored above her.

He'd never considered what happened afterward.

Never considered that she might be paying a price for losing.

The realization made him feel sick.

The next morning, Amara arrived at school expecting a normal day.

She did not expect Ethan Cole to hand her a coffee.

She stared.

Then stared some more.

"What is this?"

"Coffee."

"I know it's coffee."

"Then why did you ask?"

She looked suspicious.

Very suspicious.

Ethan couldn't blame her.

He probably looked suspicious.

"You look like you're plotting something."

"I'm not."

"That's exactly what someone plotting something would say."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Just take the coffee."

Amara narrowed her eyes.

Then slowly accepted it.

Still suspicious.

Still confused.

But she accepted it.

Ethan considered that a victory.

A small one.

As she walked away, Amara glanced back once.

Just once.

Ethan was already heading toward class.

For some reason, he looked different.

She couldn't explain it.

Couldn't understand it.

But something had changed.

And she had a feeling it wasn't just her imagination.

That afternoon, while sitting alone in class, Ethan found himself watching Amara again.

Not because she was his rival.

Not because she was competition.

Not because she was the only person who ever challenged him.

But because now he knew something he wished he didn't.

And once you saw a c***k in someone's armor—

It became impossible to pretend it wasn't there.