Saving Sami

Chapter 5 The Halls Are Louder Than Words

The buzzing of lockers slamming shut and sneakers squeaking on tile had never bothered ace before. But now? Every sound felt like a scream.
His hoodie was pulled low, headphones around his neck, not playing anything — just there to block out the world. The bruises were mostly faded, the limp barely noticeable now, but that didn’t stop the looks.
Was it pity? Guilt? Curiosity?
He hated it all equally.
“He’s back” someone whispered 
“No way,after all of that?”
“Doesn’t even look like the same guy…”
He didn’t, and he didn’t feel the same either.
Ace shoved his locker open with more force than necessary. Metal clanged. A few students flinched.
That felt good.
Then he saw her, Sami.
Across the hallway,red hair piled up in that messy twist she always wore when she didn’t care. Except…she definitely cared.
He met her gaze, longer than he probably should have. Long enough to remember the way she sat in the plastic hospital chair. 
She looked away first.
The first bell rang. Kids started filing toward their classrooms, buzzing around him like he was a broken part of the scenery.
Then, just as he turned to go, she was suddenly beside him.
“You gonna stand there all day, or are you actually going to class”?
He glanced at her, “You missed me that much, huh?”
Sami rolled her eyes, but her lips twitched like she wanted to smile and didn’t trust herself to.
Some kids left wondering the halls over heard their conversation, they started whispering and laughing to themselves as they walked past. 
They both ignored it for now.
She bumped her shoulder into his,not hard, just enough to make him shift his weight.
“Come on, Ace. The gossip’s already bad enough. Let’s not give them anything too juicy.”
She started walking. He watched her go for a beat, then followed.
For the first time that morning, his chest didn’t feel so heavy.




Lines you don’t cross.
The lunchroom smelled like overcooked pizza and too many bodies. Ace hated it.
He slid into his usual spot near the back with a tray he didn’t plan to touch. The guys were already there — Jax, Mateo, and Liam — loud as ever, acting like nothing had changed.
“Dude, you look like crap,” Jax said around a mouthful of fries.
“You hear he totaled the bike?” Mateo added. “Bet it looked worse than he does.”
They laughed like it was all just a joke. Like he hadn’t flatlined for forty-five seconds. Like his ribs didn’t still ache every time he coughed.
Ace gave a half-smile. The fake kind. The kind that said: Yeah, sure, whatever. Let’s pretend this is normal.
Then Liam leaned in.
“No lie, man. When I heard what happened, I figured you were toast. Like—” he clapped his hands loudly, snap — “game over. Guess you’re harder to kill than you look.”
That’s when it happened. Sami’s tray slammed onto the table.
All heads turned. Her expression? Ice-cold.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked, her voice sharp and clean like a blade.
Liam blinked. “Relax. It was just a joke.”
“No,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see it happen.”
The table went silent. Even Ace looked up.
“You didn’t see his body fly across the street. You didn’t hear the sound the bike made when it hit the ground. You didn’t stand there wondering if he was already dead before the ambulance even got there.”
“You didn’t wait in a hospital hallway for six hours while the nurses wouldn’t tell me anything because I wasn’t ‘family.’ You didn’t watch him lying in a hospital bed with tubes in his mouth and bruises on his face, and wonder if you’d ever get to yell at him again.”
She took a step closer to the table, voice shaking now — but not from fear.
“And you damn sure weren’t the ones who showed up. None of you. Not one visit. Not one f*****g message.”
Silence. They were staring at her now like she’d grown a second head. Maybe because none of them even knew she’d been there. Maybe because they hadn’t been.
Sami looked at Ace then — and suddenly her rage softened, just a little.
“But I was. So yeah — go ahead, laugh it up. Make your little jokes. But don’t pretend like you care, because you didn’t act like it when it actually mattered.”
No one had anything to say. Not even Liam.
Sami scoffed under her breath, grabbed her tray, and turned to leave.
But before she could walk away, Ace stood up too.
Not a word. Just movement
He left his untouched tray behind and followed her across the cafeteria.
And when he sat next to her — tray or no tray — she didn’t move away.
Instead, she muttered, “Took you long enough.”


The lunchroom felt miles away now.
They sat behind the gym, where hardly anyone ever went during lunch. The quiet wrapped around them, heavy but calm. A breeze rustled through the trees nearby, carrying the faint sound of a lawnmower from the football field.
Sami picked at the crust of her sandwich. Ace stared at the gravel under his feet.
No one spoke. Until he did.
“I remember the sound, you know.”
Sami looked up, startled. 
He didn’t meet her eyes. Just kept looking at the ground like it had answers.
“Of the crash. The way the bike skidded. My own scream. It’s all… stuck in my head. On repeat.”
Her fingers froze over her sandwich.
“I used to ride to feel free,” he said quietly. “To get out of my own head. But now? I hear that sound every time I close my eyes.”
Sami’s voice was soft. “Then don’t close them alone.”
He looked at her.
She flushed but held his gaze. “I mean… I get it. The noise. The nightmares. I still dream about it too.”
“Why’d you keep coming back?” he asked. “To the hospital. You didn’t even like me.”
Her jaw tightened. She took a shaky breath.
“I didn’t. I thought you were cocky. Loud. Annoying. But then that night happened… and suddenly none of that mattered anymore. You weren’t some jerk on a bike. You were just… a boy who almost died.”
She paused. “And I hated how much that scared me.”
Ace blinked.
A silence settled again. Not empty this time — but full of everything they couldn’t say out loud.
Then Sami reached over and gently touched his hand.
Not a grab. Not a hold.
Just a touch.
“I saw you,” she whispered. “When nobody else did.”
His throat tightened.
“I see you now.”
He didn’t pull his hand away.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t have to.
Because in that tiny moment, something broke loose between them — something scared, and soft, and real.
And neither of them was alone anymore.


They sat like that — her fingers barely resting against his, like she was afraid if she held on too tight, he’d shatter.
Ace turned toward her slowly, cautiously, like he was trying not to spook whatever fragile thing was growing between them.
“You really saw me?” he asked, voice low
She nodded. “The whole time.”
His eyes dropped to her lips for a second — barely noticeable. But Sami noticed. And she didn’t look away.
His hand shifted. Fingers curling between hers. His knee brushed against hers and stayed there. No jokes. No masks. Just quiet breaths and thunder in their chests.
He leaned in. So did she. Their foreheads almost touched.
“Ace…” she breathed, unsure if it was a warning or a welcome.
“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, “and I will.”
But she didn’t.
She tilted her head just slightly, heart pounding, breath trembling—And then—
“Yo, Ace! You out here?” Liam’s voice shattered everything.
Sami jerked back like she’d been burned, hand slipping away.
Ace swore under his breath and turned his head just as Liam came around the corner, holding a stupid grin and a half-eaten bag of chips.
“There you are, man. You ghosted lunch. Mateo thought maybe you went back to the nurse or something.”
He finally noticed Sami, eyes flicking between them with a smirk that didn’t quite reach full suspicion but was definitely edging close.
“Ohhh. My bad. Didn’t realize you were… busy.”
Sami rolled her eyes and stood up quickly, brushing crumbs off her jeans.
“Yeah. Super busy. Watching paint dry,” she muttered, not meeting either of their eyes.
Ace stayed seated, fists clenched.
Sami started to walk off, then paused. She glanced back at him, just once, and something passed between them again.


Next time, her look seemed to say. If there is one.
And then she was gone.
Liam sat down with a crunch. “Didn’t know you and Red were a thing now. When’d that happen?”
Ace didn’t answer.
He just stared at the empty space where she’d been.
And felt the echo of almost.