Chapter 4: The Almost Moment
1098 Words
Jace’s POV
She still hadn’t looked at me.
Alpha sat two tables over, focused on her lab sheet while her partner—Lila, I think—was highlighting things that didn’t even need highlighting. She didn’t even glance my way. Not once. I wasn’t sure if that was refreshing or infuriating.
She and Lila were deep in a debate over anatomy when I heard her say, “Let’s start with skeletal. At least bones don’t squish.”
That made me smirk. Bones don’t squish. Solid logic.
I tried to focus on my own worksheet, on Quinn’s attempt to c***k jokes about biceps and triceps sounding like dinosaurs, but my attention kept drifting. I could hear her laugh—soft, controlled, but real. Every time she shifted, I caught the faintest trace of her scent. That same mix of sun-warmed grass and something just a little wild.
She reached up and rubbed her neck again. Same spot. Like something beneath her skin was trying to wake up.
“She feels it,” Jax murmured, low and hopeful.
“You’re guessing.”
“So are you.”
The rest of class blurred into a haze of diagrams, whispered side comments, and Mr. Rowe’s enthusiastic monologue about muscular systems. When the bell rang, chairs scraped back and students rose like a herd of stampeding deer.
I stood slowly, slinging my bag over one shoulder. This was it. I was finally going to talk to her. Just a few steps. One casual hello. Simple.
But before I could even get her in my line of sight, Diego and two teammates blocked my path.
“Yo, Jace,” Diego said with a grin. “Tryouts are tomorrow after school. Coach is pumped to see what you’ve got.”
“Yeah, man,” one of the others added. “You looked like you could break someone just walking.”
I nodded, polite. “Cool. I’ll be there.”
But I couldn’t help glancing past them—just in case she was still there.
Alpha and Beta were already gone.
Still talking. Still laughing.
Didn’t look back.
Didn’t even hesitate.
Gone.
I hesitated, heart thudding faster than it should. What would I have even said? "Hey, I’m the new guy who keeps almost making eye contact and overthinking it"?
Still, not trying felt worse.
I slipped through the crowd as fast as I could without drawing attention, weaving between backpacks and flung-open lockers. The hallway buzzed around me—locker doors slamming, laughter, and the fading shuffle of sneakers heading out. By the time I pushed open the double doors, the parking lot was practically empty.
Just the tail end of a car turning the corner. Her car, probably. The tires hissed on damp asphalt, catching a slice of sunlight that shimmered as it vanished. I lingered longer than I meant to, half hoping I’d see her again. Just once.
She didn’t.
Jax huffed in my chest. “She’s fast.”
“Or fate’s just screwing with us,” I muttered.
~ ~ ~
In the car.
I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel. The silence hit like a punch after all the cafeteria noise, the classroom buzz, the chatter I hadn’t been part of.
I sat there, hands on the steering wheel, staring at the space where her car had just been.
The air inside the car felt stale already, too quiet. Jax stirred in my chest, uneasy. Not alarmed—just … restless. Like the pack bond had been clipped short, and he wasn’t sure where to anchor.
Then I reached for my phone and tapped Theo’s name.
It barely rang once.
“You’re calling me?” Theo answered, surprised. “Not texting? Is this a code red?”
“No,” I said, leaning my head back against the seat. “I just … needed to hear someone who gets it.”
“Rough day at Human High?”
I gave a half-laugh. “Let’s just say invisibility isn’t usually my thing—unless it’s stealth missions.”
“Oof. That bad?”
“Not bad. Just weird. You remember the girl I mentioned? Alpha? She still hasn’t even looked at me.”
There was a pause, then Theo burst out laughing. “Hold on—her name is Alpha? You’re an Alpha, and her name is Alpha? That’s not even subtle, that’s cosmic trolling.”
I groaned. “Don’t start.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely starting,” he said. “The universe shipped you before you even met.”
I rubbed at my temple. “It’s not that kind of thing.”
Theo snorted. “Yeah? Then why’s your wolf bouncing off the walls?”
I went quiet.
Theo’s voice softened. “You good?”
“I don’t know what this is,” I admitted. “But it’s not going away. And I’d rather figure it out with backup.”
There was a beat of quiet.
“Want me to push harder on the transfer?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “I think I need you here, man.”
“Alright. I’ll talk to your dad again. I’ll throw in the loyal beta in unfamiliar territory card.”
That earned a real smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime, Alpha.”
I ended the call and let the silence settle again. The wind stirred the edge of a flyer taped to a light pole outside—some announcement for a fundraiser or talent show. I didn’t really see it. I just stared, letting the burn of the sun stretch the shadows long around me.
She still hadn’t looked at me.
But I could still hear her laugh.
And Jax was still pacing.
Maybe that was enough—for today.
I started the engine but didn’t pull out right away. The low hum of the engine thrummed in my bones—familiar, steady. Like something I could actually control. I watched the student lot slowly empty, one beat-up sedan at a time. Behind the tinted glass, the world felt distant, like I was moving in a different rhythm from everyone else.
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting.
Not recognition. Not yet.
Just ... a moment. A flicker. A signal from the universe that I wasn’t totally losing it.
Instead, I got her laugh—and a strange new silence where something inside me refused to settle.
Jax pressed forward again, but this time I didn’t push him back. I let him stay close.
Maybe tomorrow she’ll look. And maybe that’ll be enough.
- Writer
