When I Met You

Chapter13

The car moved in silence. The hum of the engine was the only sound between them. Natalie’s fingers fidgeted with her bag strap, knuckles white, while her eyes stayed fixed on the streaks of light from passing streetlamps.

Jacob’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles showing, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t ask her anything. And somehow, that was worse.

Natalie swallowed hard, tasting bile at the back of her throat. She hadn’t eaten properly since the toast that morning, and the walk to school… she tried not to think about it. She just tried to focus on the feeling of the leather seat beneath her, the quiet of the car, and the steady sound of Jacob’s driving.

After what felt like forever, she broke the silence. “Why did you follow me?”

Jacob’s eyes flicked to hers briefly before returning to the road. “Because… I didn’t want you to be alone. You left so fast, I thought—”

“I didn’t need you,” she cut him off, sharper than she intended. Her voice cracked, and she hated it. “I’m fine on my own.”

Jacob exhaled slowly, a mix of frustration and something else—maybe concern. “You’re not fine,” he said quietly. “And you never have been.”

Natalie’s chest tightened. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know the storm inside her—the weight of Elliot, of everything she had lost, of the humiliation of the video, of Jarred leaving for the exchange program. No one knew. Not even him.

“I—” she started, then stopped. Words failed her. They always did when she needed them most.

Jacob glanced at her again. This time his eyes were softer, but the look was heavy with things unsaid. “I’m not going to let you go through this alone, Nat. Not now. Not ever.”

Natalie’s throat closed up. She wanted to say something, anything, but the lump in her chest made it impossible. Instead, she turned to the window, letting the cold glass fog up with her breath.

The car passed the old park near her neighborhood. Memories of Elliot hit her like a punch—Cree laughing beside him, their twin pranks, the times Natalie had felt left out but still loved them fiercely. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears she no longer had.

Jacob’s voice broke the silence again. “You should’ve called me last night.”

Natalie’s hands gripped her bag strap tighter. “I didn’t remember,” she muttered. The words sounded weak, even to her ears. She didn’t want to admit she had called Noah a hundred times in the early hours of the morning, only to cry herself to sleep, wishing someone—anyone—had stopped her.

Jacob exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re reckless,” he said softly. “And stubborn. You’re going to kill yourself one of these days.”

“I’m fine,” she whispered, though even she didn’t believe it.

Jacob pulled into her driveway. The car engine cut off. Natalie didn’t move. She didn’t look at him. She just stared at the floor, wishing she could disappear into it.

“Do you… want me to stay?” he asked, carefully.

Natalie shook her head. “No. I just… I need to be alone.”

Jacob nodded. For a moment, she thought he’d argue, thought he’d say he wouldn’t leave, but he didn’t. He simply got out of the car, walked around, and opened her door. He didn’t say anything, just gave her a hand on the doorframe, a silent gesture that said, I’m here if you need me.

Then he left.

Natalie sat there for a long time. The house was dark and empty, the silence pressing down on her like a heavy blanket. Her stomach twisted at the memory of the viral video. The hallway full of stares. Jarred’s apologetic look. The principal announcing the exchange program. Everyone leaving her, again.

But this time… Jacob hadn’t left.

Her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. A message from Cree: Are you okay?

Natalie’s fingers hovered over the screen. She wanted to reply. She wanted to tell him everything. But the words felt impossible to string together, tangled with grief and guilt.

Instead, she typed two simple words: I’m fine.

And then she put the phone down, staring into the darkened hallway, listening to the quiet that felt louder than any words.

Because she wasn’t fine. But maybe, just maybe… someone was still there.