Chapter 39
707 Words
It was Monday, but it didn’t feel like just another school day.
Ever since that dinner, something had shifted.
I wasn’t even sure what exactly. Alice didn’t say anything to me that night beyond her usual sarcasm, but her silence... it wasn’t the usual cold kind. It was like we both knew something had happened—we just didn’t know what to do with it.
And now here we were, back at school, surrounded by the same noise, same faces, same tension.
Except she didn’t look at me with annoyance this time.
She didn’t *look* at all. And for some reason, that irritated me more than anything.
She walked right past my seat in English class, cool and calm, like Saturday night hadn’t happened. Like she hadn’t stepped into my house, sat across my table, and stolen my attention without even trying.
I should’ve let it go.
I told myself it didn’t matter.
But it did.
At break, I saw her walking down the hallway alone, holding her notebook to her chest. I didn’t plan it, but my feet moved before my brain caught up.
“Alice,” I called.
She stopped.
Turned slowly.
Her face didn’t show surprise, just mild confusion—like she was still debating if I was serious.
I cleared my throat. “Hey.”
“...Hi?” Her brow lifted.
I scratched the back of my neck. “So, about Saturday.”
Her arms folded. “What about it?”
I looked around. Too many people. I lowered my voice. “I didn’t know it’d be *you.* Or your dad.”
She gave a tiny shrug. “Same.”A pause.
I stepped closer. Not too close, just enough for her to hear me clearly. “It wasn’t terrible,
though.”
She blinked, unsure.
“I mean…” I shrugged, lips twitching into the faintest smile. “You didn’t throw a fork at me. That’s progress.”
Her eyes narrowed, but I caught it—the tiniest flicker of a smile before she rolled her eyes.
“Don’t get carried away.”
“I’m just saying,” I said, quieter now, “it didn’t feel like war.”
Another pause.
Then she said, softly, “Only because we were in your house. You had the home advantage.”
That made me grin. “Fair. So what if we were on neutral ground?”
She looked at me, unreadable.
Then she stepped around me, casually brushing my shoulder. “Then we’d be back to war, Lucas.”
But she didn’t sound like she hated the idea.
And for the first time, I didn’t either.
I turned slowly as she walked away, her words still echoing in my head.
*"Then we’d be back to war, Lucas."*
But her tone wasn’t cold.
It was playful. Challenging. And it sent a stupid rush through my chest I couldn’t explain.
I stood there for a second, trying to figure out what had just happened. I wasn’t used to that version of her. Not biting. Not defensive. Just… teasing.
And I wasn’t sure which version of her I liked more—fighting Alice, or this new one who left me speechless.
I walked back toward my locker, still distracted, when I heard Amelia calling my name down the hall.
“Lucas!” she said brightly, skipping up beside me like we were close again. “Where have you been hiding?”
“Just around,” I muttered, not really looking at her.
She looped her arm through mine before I could pull away. “You haven’t called all weekend.”
“Wasn’t in the mood.”
“You’re *never* in the mood these days,” she pouted. “Honestly, are you mad at me?”
I didn’t answer. My mind wasn’t even in the conversation.
Because down the hallway, Alice was leaning against the wall, laughing at something Noah said.
And I didn’t miss the way she glanced over—just for a second—when she saw me with Amelia.
It was nothing. A flash.
But it burned.
Amelia kept talking, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
Because Alice Harper was becoming a problem I couldn’t joke my way out of.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
- Writer
