Chapter 14: Radio Silence
1256 Words
Jason’s pov
I played like absolute s**t today.
Coach had benched me twice—twice—during practice drills. Called me unfocused. Sloppy. Said if I didn't get my head in the game by Friday's match, I'd be warming the bench for real.
I didn't care.
All I could think about was the fact that Angel hadn't responded to a single message in two days.
Two. f*****g. Days.
I ripped off my helmet as I stumbled into the locker room, sweat dripping down my face. My hands were shaking as I yanked off my gloves, and it had nothing to do with the rigorous practice.
I'd promised to give her space. Promised to let her think things through without pressuring her.
But waiting was agonizing.
Every second that passed without a response felt like drowning.
I collapsed onto the bench in front of my locker and pulled out my phone with trembling fingers.
Opened my messages.
The unnamed chat sat at the top—the one I never responded to because I didn't want a record of the conversations.
Unknown (Yesterday, 6:47 PM): Subject departed campus library 6:45 PM. Heading toward bookstore.
Unknown (Yesterday, 8:23 PM): Subject finished shift at Quindeck. Walking home. No incidents.
Unknown (Yesterday, 11:34 PM): Lights out in apartment. Subject appears to be settling in for the night.
Unknown (Today, 2:15 PM): Subject at campus. Attending lecture hall B-207.
Unknown (Today, 5:52 PM): Subject left Quindeck. Heading home.
Each message came with photos. Grainy, taken from a distance, but clear enough.
Angel walking across campus with her backpack.
Angel leaving the bookstore with that girl—Quinn, her new coworker.
Angel unlocking her apartment door, looking tired.
Santos was thorough. I'd give him that.
But none of it told me what I actually needed to know.
Why wasn't she texting me back?
I scrolled up to my last message to her.
Me (Two days ago, 11:47 PM): Goodnight, Angel
Me (Two days ago, 11:48 PM): Dream of me
Me (Yesterday, 8:23 AM): Good morning beautiful
Me (Yesterday, 2:34 PM): Thinking about you
Me (Yesterday, 9:15 PM): How was your day?
Me (Today, 7:42 AM): Angel?
Me (Today, 12:18 PM): Please talk to me
Me (Today, 4:56 PM): I'm worried about you
All delivered. All read.
No responses.
I refreshed the chat for the third time in five minutes, like somehow that would make her messages magically appear.
Nothing.
Anxiety clawed at my chest.
"Yo, Jace." Brandon's voice cut through my spiral. "You good, man? You look like you're about to pass out."
I looked up to find half the team watching me with varying degrees of concern.
"I'm fine," I said flatly.
"You don't look fine," Brandon pressed. "You've been off all week. What's going on?"
"Maybe there's trouble in paradise," Kyle drawled from across the room, that smug smile on his face that made me want to punch him.
Several guys laughed.
"Oh s**t, is the bet still on?" Someone—Marcus, I think—asked. "How long has it been? Three days?"
"The bet was they wouldn't last a week, right?" Another voice chimed in.
Kyle nodded, leaning back against his locker. "I give it two more days, tops. I mean, who really expects anyone to turn a hoe into a housewife?" He paused, grinning. "Although I'm not entirely sure who the hoe is in this situation. Jace or Gianna."
The locker room erupted in laughter.
Normally, I'd let it slide. It was just locker room talk. Harmless ribbing. The kind of s**t we all gave each other.
But today, with Angel's silence eating me alive, it grated on my last nerve.
I looked back down at my phone.
Still nothing.
Today was supposed to be a slow day for her. No TA duties that I knew of. Her shift at Quindeck had ended over an hour ago according to Santos's last update.
So where was she?
What was she doing?
Was she okay?
The thought that something might have happened to her sent a jolt of panic through my system.
But no—Santos would have told me if anything was wrong. That's what I was paying him for.
She was fine.
She just didn't want to talk to me.
Which was somehow worse.
"Hey, man." Reid appeared beside me, slinging a conspiratorial arm around my shoulders like we were best friends. "Real talk—if you're done with Gianna, I wouldn't mind hitting that, you know? I mean, if you're not using her anymore—"
His words barely registered at first.
Then they did.
I turned to look at him slowly.
He must have seen something in my expression because his easy smile faltered.
"What did you just say?" My voice was dangerously quiet.
"I—I was just—" Reid laughed nervously. "Just joking, bro. You know how it is—"
"Gianna is her own person," I said coldly. "If you want to 'hit that,' maybe you should ask her. See what she thinks about being talked about like she's a piece of meat you can pass around."
The locker room had gone quiet.
Reid's arm slipped off my shoulder. "Dude, I was just messing around—"
"Well, I'm not laughing."
"Jesus, Jace." Reid held up his hands. "It was a joke. Chill."
I stood up abruptly, shoving my phone in my pocket. "Everybody's being f*****g annoying today."
"Whoa, where are you going?" Brandon called after me. "We're not done—"
"I am."
I grabbed my bag and headed for the showers, ignoring the whispers that started up behind me.
Let them talk. Let them make their stupid bets and their stupid jokes.
I didn't care about any of it.
All I cared about was the girl who wouldn't text me back.
The hot water did nothing to calm me down.
I stood under the spray, hands braced against the tile, and tried to breathe through the anxiety.
Two days.
It had only been two days, and I was already losing my mind.
How was I supposed to survive if she actually meant it? If she really wanted to end this before it even started?
The thought made my chest tight.
No.
I wouldn't accept that.
I couldn't.
She was mine. She'd always been mine. This started before—way before I ever met her— way before I knew she was as beautiful, as magnetic in person as she was on my screen, way before I first saw her glaring at me across that lecture hall. I was hers—completely, devastatingly hers.
I just had to make her see it.
Make her understand that this thing between us wasn't going away. That I wasn't going away.
No matter how hard she tried to push me out.
I finished my shower in record time, threw on my clothes, and checked my phone again.
Still nothing.
My jaw clenched.
Fine.
If she wouldn't come to me, I'd go to her.
I opened the chat with Santos.
Me: Where is she right now?
The response came immediately.
Santos: Subject is at home. Arrived 47 minutes ago. Lights on in main room. No movement detected for past 20 minutes.
Me: Send me the address
Santos: Already have it, sir. Would you like me to continue surveillance?
Me: No. I'll take it from here
I pocketed my phone and headed for my car.
Screw giving her space.
Screw waiting.
If Angel wanted to ignore me, she could do it to my f*****g face.
- Writer
