The Dare That Changed Everything

The Photograph

CHAPTER FIVE

Emilia didn’t really sleep. Every time she closed her eyes the messages came back in the same cold font. At three she told herself it was a prank someone from the team, or one of Ashley’s more dramatic ideas gone sideways. By four she wasn’t sure. By six she was staring at the ceiling wondering if she should tell anyone. Ashley would panic and then immediately start plotting. Emma would panic harder and offer snacks. Peggy would get excited in a way that felt unhelpful. Elsa would start investigating immediately and probably get further than any of them. None of those options felt useful yet. So she kept it to herself. For now.

The next afternoon the Gazette office was its usual controlled mess. Emilia couldn’t focus. She read the same paragraph three times without taking any of it in. The cursor blinked at her like it was judging her.

“You’re doing it again,” Elsa said, pulling up a chair without asking.

“What?”

“The staring thing. You haven’t touched your coffee.”

Emilia looked at the cup. Elsa was right. The surface had gone cold and still. “I’m fine.”

“Talk.”

“I’m working.”

“You’re avoiding.”

Elsa knew her too well. The silence stretched until Emilia pulled out her phone and showed her the messages. Elsa’s face got more serious with every line. When she finished she looked up, quiet for a long second.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because Ashley would make it dramatic.”

“She’s going to make it dramatic anyway.”

That was fair. “Do you think it’s connected?”

“Yes,” Elsa said. “So do I.”

Neither of them liked that answer.

Three hours later Emilia was walking back to the arena. Another practice, another article, another chance to think about anything else. The air had a sharp edge. Clouds sat low and heavy. Rain felt close. The sound of skates on ice was almost familiar now, which was its own kind of problem.

Practice had already started when she got inside. She sat in her usual seat and opened her notebook. Ten minutes later she felt eyes on her. She looked up. Nate. The second their eyes met he looked away, but not fast enough. A warm, unwanted feeling settled in her chest and stayed there.

Practice ended with a scrimmage that got progressively more chaotic. The players looked wiped out and still found energy to argue, mostly because of Andrew.

“You cheated.”

“I scored.”

“You cheated while scoring.”

Coach blew the whistle hard. “Locker rooms. Now.” They scattered, still arguing under their breath. Coach shook his head. “Idiots.”

Emilia laughed before she could stop it. The sound drew attention, including Nate’s. He skated over and rested his arms on the boards, close enough that she could see the melted ice still in his hair. Close enough that her heart did something inconvenient and thoroughly unwelcome.

“What’s so funny?”

“Your team.”

“Fair.”

“They argue like children.”

“They are children.”

“They’re twenty-one.”

“Exactly.”

A real laugh slipped out of her. Nate smiled, and for a moment the rink and the noise and everything else pulled back. The moment felt too easy. Too natural. Dangerous, considering how long she’d spent convincing herself she hated him.

The smile faded. He looked at her more carefully. “What happened? You’ve been distracted.”

She looked away too quickly. He noticed.

“Just busy.”

“Liar.” It wasn’t mean. If anything it sounded concerned, which only made it worse. For a second she thought about telling him everything the texts, the note, the way the past kept reaching forward. Common sense came back hard. She changed the subject.

“Why did Logan Pierce matter?”

Nate’s face closed off—not angry, just guarded, like a door shutting quietly. She realized she’d hurt him without meaning to. The knowledge sat uncomfortably between them.

“Walker!” Andrew’s voice carried across the ice. Nate closed his eyes like he already regretted the day. Andrew skated over with a towel over his shoulder and stopped short. A slow grin spread.

“Oh.”

“Don’t,” Nate said.

Andrew looked delighted. “What is this?”

“Nothing.”

“This looks like something.”

“It’s not.”

Andrew pointed between them. “You two are smiling.” Neither answered, which was answer enough. Andrew’s voice rose with pure joy. “Guys! They’re flirting!”

The arena lost it. Nate swore under his breath. Emilia wished the ice would open and swallow her whole. Neither of them got what they wanted.

Twenty minutes later she finally got out, face still hot. The parking lot was darker than she’d expected. Streetlights were on, casting long yellow pools. Something was under her windshield wiper—white against the dark glass.

A photograph.

Her pulse kicked as she pulled it free. It was old—five years at least, the edges soft from handling. Students near the high school gym. Logan Pierce in the middle, laughing at something off-camera. And right beside him, looking completely comfortable, was Nate.

The ground felt like it tilted. Emilia stared at the picture until the details stuck. Nate and Logan. Friends, or close enough that the difference didn’t matter. The messages, the note, the warnings, and now this. Nothing made sense.

A cold breeze moved through the lot. The photograph shook a little in her hand. For the first time since she’d started questioning the past, she wondered if trusting Nate at all had been a mistake.