Unseen by Her Tormentor

CHAPTER 003

CHAPTER 003

A lot of people thought Jonathan knew everything about life.

They saw the jersey, the captain's armband, the girls leaning on lockers and hoping for a smile, and the teachers giving him a break because he was "leading the team this season." They saw the touchdowns, the highlight reels, and the swagger.

And yes, he went along with it. Why wouldn't he? That picture had kept him on top since he was a freshman.

But no one knew this, and he would never say it out loud: the best part of his day wasn't the touchdowns, the cheers, or even the wins.

When he got under Ariel's skin, it was her face.

He shouldn't think it's funny. For one thing, she was Michael's twin. That meant, in a technical sense, she was off-limits. But God, she made it so easy. Ariel was like a live wire because of the way her cheeks flushed, the way she slammed the knife down, and the sharp little comebacks she threw at him. Very sensitive.

Jonathan liked to test her and see how far he could go before she lost it.

For example, that morning.

Before practice, he stopped by the Lombardis' house. It always felt strange to walk into their kitchen. Maybe because he could almost feel how much Ariel didn't want him there.

She was at the counter, putting butter on toast like it had hurt her feelings. Big T-shirt, messy hair, and bare feet curling up against the tile. He almost didn't say anything for a second.

Almost.

"Morning, sunshine," he said, leaning against the door and speaking in a lazy, teasing way.

Her shoulders became stiff right away. Like seeing fire catch.

"Don't call me that," she said with her eyes on her plate.

"What? He smiled and said, "I thought you would like a nickname."

He said he could hear her eyes click when they rolled.

Michael laughed and grabbed a shake with protein in it. "Don't listen to him, bro."

Of course, Jonathan didn't ignore her. Couldn't. He never did. Instead, he saw her toast and made a casual remark. "More butter again?"

The knife hit the ground hard enough to make him jump.

"Really? Do you ever get tired of telling me what I should eat?" she said angrily.

Michael snorted. "Don't worry about him, Ariel."

But Jonathan did care. He cared so much about God.

She didn't know it, but the way her voice cracked and the anger in her eyes were precisely what he wanted.

Listen up.

Ariel didn't get what he was saying. She thought he was being a jerk when he picked on her, or that he didn't have anything better to do. What is the truth? It was more difficult than that.

He saw her.

The sight of her was overwhelming for him.

And paying attention to her—really paying attention to her was risky.

Because Ariel wasn't like the other girls who were crazy about him. She didn't laugh or bat her eyelashes at him when he walked by to get his attention. She didn't want anything from him.

Maybe she just wanted him to go away.

And that made him want to try harder. He wanted her to look at him, even if she was angry. When she was angry, she couldn't ignore him. And he wanted it.

It was even worse at school.

Jonathan and Michael were sitting at the football table in the cafeteria, laughing at a dumb inside joke. Ariel sat across the room with Mariah, her head down as usual, trying to blend in with the wall.

But Jonathan wouldn't let her go.

"Hey, Michael!" "Better hide your food, or Ariel will eat it all before you can blink!" he yelled from across the room.

Everyone at the table burst out laughing. Great.

He saw Ariel flinch, her shoulders tense, and her hand stop halfway to her mouth. He knew she heard him, even though she didn't look up. She knew it hurt.

That might have made him an asshole. Most likely. But there was something about the way she was quiet that bothered him. It was like she was holding all of this emotion inside, and he was the only one who could get it out.

Michael didn't understand. Ariel was just Ariel to him. His other half. The shadow of him. He didn't see how she winced when people whispered or how she pulled her hoodie tighter like armor.

But Jonathan saw it. All the time.

He sometimes thought that was why he kept pushing: if he didn't, maybe no one would notice her at all.

That afternoon's practice should have made Ariel go out of his mind. Usually, it did. Once he was on the field, nothing else mattered. The snap of the ball, the crunch of pads, and the roar of his teammates all drowned out everything else.

Not today, though.

Every time he closed his eyes today, all he could see was her angry face over the toast, with her cheeks flushed and her eyes flashing.

And then, God help him, the way she kept looking at him. She thought she was being sneaky, but he saw through it. The way her eyes moved over his shoulders and chest.

She thought he didn't see. He did.

That idea stayed with him all day.

He tried to tell himself it was nothing that night while he was in bed. Ariel is sensitive. That's it. She reacted because he got on her nerves. He would probably lose interest if she didn't.

But he wasn't losing interest.

He was definitely hooked.

He wanted to see how far he could go before she finally lost it. He knew she was hiding the fire before she let him see it.

He wanted to know if the fire burned as hot when he wasn't enraged.

He saw her looking at him again the next morning.

She didn't know it. He was laughing at something Michael said and tilting his head back. When he looked over, her eyes were on him. Not out of hate. She wasn't filled with anger. Just... looking.

And for one crazy second, she thought she saw him. It was not the quarterback she was referring to. He wasn't Michael's best buddy. Not the jerk who always bothered her.

Only him.

They looked at each other, and the air changed. She looked like a deer in headlights, like she was stuck.

He didn't smirk this time. He only turned around.

But then he got scared and smiled to cover it up. "Do you like what you see, Sunshine?"

Her face turned red. "In your dreams."

But he heard her breath hitch. He saw how quickly she was unable to take her eyes off him.

At that point, he knew he was in trouble.

It wasn't just a game to bother Ariel Lombardi anymore.

It was something that took over my life.

And eventually, it was going to blow up in his face.

He couldn't stop thinking about one simple but terrifying question as he lay there staring at the ceiling: What would happen if she ever found out how much he cared?