In Love With Him

Chapter 56

Kennedy (POV)

Over the past few days I became the master of avoiding Liam at all costs.

I changed my route to third period. I ducked down hallways, cut through classrooms, and used the back stairwell just to avoid passing him near the vending machines. I even timed my bathroom breaks to miss him in the halls. Pathetic? Maybe. But necessary? Absolutely.

I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing him. Of pretending everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. It hadn’t been since that night.

The Winter Dance posters were plastered everywhere — all glittery fonts and cheesy taglines like A Night to Remember with snowflakes and sparkles exploding off every wall. I rolled my eyes every time I saw one.

I was not going. Not after what happened.

After school, I headed straight to the theater room. If I didn’t have Finn and Marty, I might’ve completely lost my mind this week. We were prepping for auditions — Sweeney Todd. I was going for Mrs. Lovett, Finn had his heart set on Anthony, and Marty was deep in designing costumes, tongue sticking out in focus as she sketched in her giant art pad.

I walked in, trying to keep my energy up, trying to smile like normal. I tossed my bag onto the front row chair and grabbed my script from inside. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Finally,” Finn said with a grin, spinning in a slow circle while humming a piece of “Johanna.” “Our star has arrived.”

Marty didn’t look up from her sketchpad. “We’ve been waiting. So. Spill.”

I glanced at her warily. “Spill what?”

“Liam,” she said like it was obvious. “You never told us how the date went. You were supposed to text us after the movie.”

Finn looked up, eyebrows raised with interest.

I froze a little. My grip tightened on my script. “It was… fine.”

“Fine?” Marty asked, finally looking up, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Like… fine fine? Or like awkward bad silence fine?” Finn added, dramatically clutching his chest. “Because you've been acting like a ghost ever since.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” I mumbled, trying to busy myself with flipping through the script. My fingers shook slightly as I turned the pages.

Marty stopped sketching. Finn stood straighter.

Oh no.

“Did something happen?” Finn asked gently.

I didn’t answer right away. I just stared at the worn corner of the script in my hands.

I didn’t want to say it out loud. I didn’t want to relive it. The way Liam’s hand crept up my thigh in the movie theater… the way he didn’t listen when I shifted away… the way his grip tightened on my face like I was something owed to him.

I shook my head. “Not really. He just… wasn’t who I thought he was.”

That was the safe version. The easier version.

But Finn wasn’t stupid. Neither was Marty.

Marty’s jaw clenched. “Kennedy—”

“He didn’t do anything,” I added quickly. “Not… fully. He just—” I shook my head, the words catching in my throat. “I don’t want to talk about it, okay? Please.”

They both looked at me for a moment. Then Finn gave Marty a subtle shake of his head, and she sat back down, returning to her sketchpad reluctantly.

“Alright,” she murmured. “But if that little s**t shows his face again, I’m throwing glitter glue in his eyes.”

Finn snorted. “And I’ll sing Pirelli’s Miracle Elixir at full volume until he runs screaming.”

I let out a small laugh. It wasn’t much, but it helped.

“Thanks, guys,” I said softly.

I took a breath, trying to clear the fog in my chest. “Let’s just rehearse. I need to nail this monologue.”

Finn nodded and grabbed his script, flipping to the right page. Marty quietly started sketching again, but I could still feel their eyes flicking to me every now and then — protective, watching, waiting.

I appreciated it. More than they knew.

But still, I couldn’t shake the way Liam made me feel.

Violated. Used. Stupid.

And the worst part was… he made me question everything. My outfit. My laugh. My decisions. Like maybe, just maybe, I’d done something to deserve it.

But no.

That was bullshit.

I’d said no. And he didn’t care.

And that said everything about him. Not me.

I wasn’t going to let one jerk ruin my life. I had auditions to crush. A role to win.

And if he crossed me again, I’d remind him exactly who the hell I was.

---

Dominic (POV)

I still hadn’t gotten over what she told me.

It had been a few days since Kennedy came home from her date with Liam — since she’d cried in that dress and told me what that asshole tried to pull. And yeah, I wanted to find him. Wanted to shove him into the nearest wall, make him regret even thinking about touching her like that. But she begged me not to.

Begged me.

So I didn’t. Not because I didn’t want to — God, I wanted to — but because it was the only thing she asked of me.

Even still, the thought of it made my blood boil.

And what made it worse?

She hadn’t really been the same since that night. Not entirely. She still smiled, still laughed at Max’s dumb jokes or teased me in the kitchen when our fingers brushed, but… it was different. A piece of her dimmed, and I hated it.

We were sitting around the dinner table, plates half-full with leftovers from the night before. Mom was going on about some flower arrangements for the wedding. Max was talking with his mouth full. And Kennedy was quiet — that kind of quiet where she was there, but not really. Her fork pushed her rice around on the plate like it offended her.

That’s when my mom dropped the question. Casual. Unassuming.

“So, Kennedy… how was your date last Friday?”

Kennedy froze, fork pausing mid-swipe. I watched her jaw tense, her spine straighten slightly like she was bracing for something.

She hesitated, then quietly answered, “It was fine.”

I hated the way she said it. Flat. Dull. Like the lie tasted bitter on her tongue.

Paul’s head slowly turned, narrowing his eyes like some human lie detector. “He didn’t try anything, did he?”

Kennedy’s hand twitched.

She hesitated again.

I felt myself start to rise — the chair leg scraped the floor a little as I shifted, already ready to launch into something when I caught her eyes. Just a flicker. A silent please don’t.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself to sit back down.

“Kenny!" I said quickly, cutting in. “ Your audition is coming up soon, right?” I turned to her, giving her a soft look. “You’re going for Mrs. Lovett, yeah?”

She blinked at me like I’d just pulled her out of a tornado. Then that small smile tugged at her lips — the one I lived for. The one that said thank you without any words.

I gave her a wink, trying not to grin like an i***t.

Kennedy tucked a curl behind her ear and nodded. “Yeah… I mean, maybe. There’s a lot of girls trying out. I don’t know if I’ll get it.”

Paul scoffed, practically puffing out his chest. “You’ll get it. You’re the only five-octave vocal in the whole school.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “The only what?”

Paul turned to me like I’d just insulted the family legacy. “A five-octave vocal range, Dominic. That’s… rare. Most people don’t have that kind of range. Hell, Mariah Carey barely hits five. Your sister here? She’s got it.”

Kennedy made a face like she wanted to slide under the table. “Dad, stop.”

“Oh come on, Kenny,” he chuckled. “Just show them. Show them the scale.”

She groaned. “Right now?”

“Right now.”

Mom leaned forward with interest, clearly into it. Max popped a grape in his mouth and whispered dramatically, “Cue the concert.”

Kennedy rolled her eyes, but I saw the small, nervous smile on her lips as she sat up straighter. She took a breath, closing her eyes for a second, and then… she started.

It began low. This soft, rich sound that vibrated through the room — deep, velvety, controlled. Then slowly, gradually, she climbed the scale, one note flowing into the next like honey. I didn’t know much about music, but damn, it was like something out of a movie. Her voice shifted like it had layers — smooth and warm at first, then light, airy, bright as she climbed higher and higher until I swore the chandelier above us was going to shatter.

She stopped at the highest note, held it like it was nothing, and then gently faded it out.

The whole room was quiet.

Max’s mouth hung open. My mom clapped softly. Paul grinned like a proud rooster in the spotlight.

And me?

I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

Even just doing scales, she was mesmerizing. Beautiful. Effortless. Like she didn’t even realize the kind of power she had.

And God help me, I wanted to kiss her right there at the table. Not because of the voice. But because she was her. Talented, humble, sweet, sarcastic, brave.

And because after everything… she was still standing.

I felt that tightness in my chest again — the one I always got when I watched her smile.

I was falling harder than I wanted to admit.

And I didn’t know if I’d survive the landing.