Lines We Pretend not to Cross
1295 Words
---
Chapter 6
Lines We Pretend Not to Cross
The hallway had never felt this loud before.
Not because people were actually louder.
But because everything felt sharper.
Every laugh.
Every whisper.
Every glance.
Especially the ones aimed at him.
Liam Carter.
And the girl standing way too close to him.
I shouldn’t care.
I really shouldn’t.
But when I walked into school that morning and saw him leaning against his locker while Vanessa Reed flipped her hair and laughed at something he said — something inside me twisted.
Vanessa Reed.
Perfect ponytail. Perfect lip gloss. Perfect everything.
The kind of girl who never trips. Never stutters. Never gets ignored.
Unlike me.
I adjusted my bag strap and tried to walk past like I didn’t notice.
Like I didn’t feel anything.
Like the image of her touching his arm didn’t make my stomach drop.
“Morning, Ivy.”
His voice.
Warm. Familiar. Dangerous.
I stopped.
I told myself not to.
But I did.
“Hey,” I said casually. Too casually.
Vanessa looked me up and down like I was an outfit she wouldn’t wear.
“Oh. You’re Ivy, right?” she said sweetly.
Too sweet.
“Yeah.”
She smiled. “Liam talks about you.”
My heart skipped.
He what?
“Oh yeah?” I looked at him.
He scratched the back of his neck. “I mean— just normal stuff.”
Normal stuff.
Why did that sound worse?
Vanessa leaned closer to him again. “We were just talking about the party on Friday. You’re coming, right Liam?”
Party?
Since when was he going to parties with her?
“I don’t know yet,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at her.
He was looking at me.
Why.
Why does he always do that.
“Well, you should,” Vanessa said. “It’ll be fun.”
She smiled at me again.
That smile.
I forced one back. “Cool.”
Cool.
I turned and walked away before my face betrayed me.
Before my chest betrayed me.
Before I asked questions I had no right to ask.
---
By lunch, the rumors had already started.
“I heard Vanessa likes Liam.”
“I heard they’ve been texting.”
“I heard they’re going to the party together.”
I didn’t ask who said it.
I didn’t ask if it was true.
Because if it was, I didn’t want confirmation.
And if it wasn’t…
Why did it still hurt?
I was halfway through my juice box when someone slid into the seat across from me.
“Are you avoiding me?”
I didn’t look up.
“No.”
Liam sighed. “Ivy.”
I hated the way he said my name.
Soft. Careful. Like it meant something.
“Why are you sitting with Vanessa now?” I asked before I could stop myself.
There it was.
Jealousy.
Ugly. Exposed. Real.
He blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“She came up to me,” he said. “It’s not that deep.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” he repeated.
I finally looked at him.
“You can hang out with whoever you want.”
And I meant it.
Mostly.
He studied my face like he was trying to read something I didn’t want him to see.
“Are you mad?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying not to care.”
My breath hitched.
“You think you know me so well.”
“I’m trying to.”
That shut me up.
The noise in the cafeteria faded for a second.
Just us.
Too close.
Too honest.
“You don’t get to act jealous,” he said quietly.
“I’m not jealous.”
“You are.”
“And even if I was,” I whispered, leaning forward slightly, “why would that matter?”
There it was.
The line.
The invisible one.
He swallowed.
“It matters,” he said.
My heart stuttered.
Before I could respond, someone cleared their throat.
Vanessa.
Of course.
She placed her hand on his shoulder lightly. “Liam, coach is looking for you.”
Coach?
Since when did she talk to coach?
He stood up slowly, still looking at me.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he said.
Later.
That word again.
Vanessa smiled at me as they walked away.
Not sweet this time.
Victorious.
I sat back in my chair.
Why did this feel like a competition?
And why did I feel like I was losing?
---
After school, I told myself I wouldn’t think about it.
I lasted seven minutes.
Exactly seven.
Until I saw them again.
Outside.
Laughing.
She said something and hit his arm playfully.
He smiled.
That smile.
The one he used when he was trying not to laugh too hard.
The one he used with me.
Or… maybe not just with me.
I turned to leave.
“Ivy!”
I froze.
He jogged over.
Vanessa didn’t follow.
Good.
“Are you seriously walking away every time you see me now?” he asked.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Why do you care?” I snapped.
Silence.
Because that was the real question, wasn’t it?
Why did he care?
He stepped closer.
Close enough that I could see the tiny scar near his eyebrow.
Close enough that my pulse betrayed me again.
“I don’t like when you pull away,” he said.
“Then don’t give me a reason to.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“Vanessa doesn’t mean anything.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because she’s not you.”
My heart.
Actually.
Stopped.
For a second.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I whispered.
He hesitated.
And in that hesitation, I saw it.
Fear.
Confusion.
Maybe even something more.
“It means…” he started, then ran a hand through his hair. “It means you’re different.”
Different.
The most dangerous word in existence.
“Different good or different bad?” I asked.
He stepped even closer.
“Different in a way I can’t ignore.”
The air shifted.
Heavy.
Charged.
And suddenly I realized something terrifying.
This wasn’t about Vanessa.
This wasn’t about parties.
This wasn’t about rumors.
This was about us.
And neither of us knew what “us” was yet.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said softly.
“Then don’t,” I replied.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
“There’s the Ivy I know.”
“And who’s that?”
“The one who pretends she’s strong but feels everything.”
I scoffed lightly. “You don’t know everything.”
“No,” he admitted. “But I want to.”
My chest tightened.
Because that was worse.
Wanting to know someone means you’re planning to stay.
And staying means risking.
And risking means you could lose.
“I’m not going to that party,” he said suddenly.
“What?”
“I don’t care about it.”
Vanessa’s face flashed in my mind.
“Don’t not go because of me.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why?”
He looked at me like the answer was obvious.
“I’d rather be where you are.”
And just like that…
The line between friendship and something else blurred completely.
---
As he walked me halfway home, neither of us mentioned Vanessa again.
But the tension wasn’t gone.
It had just changed.
It wasn’t jealousy anymore.
It was possibility.
And possibility is way more dangerous.
Because once you admit something could happen…
You can’t pretend you don’t want it.
---
- Writer
