Chapter3:CrossinLines
1300 Words
By four o’clock, the entire track team already looked ready for violence.
Specifically against me.
Coach Daniels stood near the lanes with his clipboard.
“About time,” he barked.
“It’s four exactly.”
“And yet somehow your attitude arrived early.”
Kiara snorted from the bleachers.
I ignored her.
Most of the team stretched nearby in matching black practice gear. Everyone looked annoyingly polished and athletic while I felt like a target walking into enemy territory.
Especially because Jace Donovan was already watching me again.
God, this boy needed a hobby.
He stood near lane four with his relay baton tucked under one arm, black athletic tape wrapped around his hand. His shirt clung to his shoulders from warm-ups, and for one deeply irritating second, my brain completely lost focus.
Then he spoke.
“You planning to run today or just argue with people?”
And there went the attraction.
I dropped my bag beside the bench. “You seem obsessed with me.”
Mason made a choking sound somewhere behind him.
Jace’s expression stayed calm. “Trust me. Obsession would look different.”
My stomach did something extremely embarrassing.
Coach Daniels blew his whistle sharply before I could respond.
“Enough flirting.”
The entire team froze.
“So we all heard that, right?” Kiara whispered loudly.
“It wasn’t flirting,” I said immediately.
Coach looked deeply unconvinced.
Jace looked worse.
Like he was trying not to smile. I hated this school already.
Coach gathered the relay runners near the lanes. “Nationals are in three months. That means I don’t care who hates whom. I care about results.”
He pointed toward Jace and me.
“You two are running anchor rotations together.”
The silence that followed felt dangerous.
Jace’s jaw tightened instantly. “Why?”
“Because Blake’s acceleration time is the best on the team.”
A few athletes muttered unhappily.
Coach continued as nobody spoke. “And your chemistry is terrible. Which means we fix it now or lose later.”
“We don’t have chemistry,” I muttered.
Coach raised an eyebrow. “Exactly my point.”
Jace dragged a hand over his face. “This is a bad idea.”
Coach smiled humorlessly. “Good thing I’m the coach then.”
Practice started brutally.
Relay exchanges, sprint drills, and endurance laps.
And somehow every single exercise paired me with Jace.
By the third baton exchange, we were already irritated enough to kill each other.
“Your timing is off,” he snapped.
“My timing is fine.”
“You slowed down before the pass.”
“Because you almost slammed into me.”
“That’s literally how relays work.”
I glared at him. “You’re insufferable.”
“You’re defensive.”
“You’re arrogant.”
“You keep repeating yourself.”
I stepped closer before I could stop myself. “And you keep talking like you’re better than everyone.”
Something dangerous flickered behind his eyes.
“Maybe because I usually am.”
God. I wanted to throw the baton directly at his forehead.
Coach blew his whistle. “Again!”
We reset positions.
Jace moved in front of me this time, muscles tense beneath his shirt as he prepared for the sprint. My gaze caught briefly on the tattoo on his neck.
He glanced back and caught me looking.
“You distracted, Blake?”
I rolled my eyes hard enough to cause permanent damage. “You wish.”
Then he smirked.
“Ready!” Coach shouted.
Jace took off running he was fast.
For half a second, admiration slipped through my irritation before instinct kicked in and I sprinted forward for the exchange.
“Now!”
The baton hit my palm smoothly.
My foot clipped awkwardly during the turn and suddenly my balance disappeared.
“s**t—”
Strong hands grabbed my waist before I hit the track.
The world tilted sharply then stopped.
Jace steadied me against his chest, grip firm enough to send heat rushing straight into my bloodstream.
Everything around us blurred. The team, the track, and the noise.
All I could focus on was him we were way too close his breathing sounded uneven.
Mine was worse.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
The question should’ve sounded annoyed but instead it sounded careful.
My hands pressed instinctively against his chest to steady myself, and the contact sent something electric straight through me.
His eyes dropped briefly to my mouth.
My pulse stumbled.
Around us, the track had gone suspiciously silent.
“Oh my God,” Kiara whispered dramatically from somewhere behind us.
That snapped reality back instantly.
I shoved myself away from him too fast.
“I’m fine.”
Jace stepped back slowly, though his gaze stayed fixed on me.
“You almost ate the track.”
“And yet I survived.”
“Barely.”
Heat burned across my face.
Coach Daniels looked seconds away from retiring early. “If you two are done staring at each other like a soap opera, we’re continuing practice.”
The team burst into laughter, I wanted death immediately.
Jace grabbed the baton from the ground and tossed it toward me casually. “Try staying upright this time.”
I caught it one-handed. “Try being less annoying this time.”
Mason whistled loudly. “Yeah, they’re definitely hooking up eventually.”
“Shut up, Reed,” both of us snapped simultaneously.
That only made everyone laugh harder.
The rest of the practice somehow got worse because now I was hyperaware of Jace constantly.
His voice, his hands brushing mine during exchanges.
The way he watched me before every sprint.
And judging by the tension in his shoulders, he was aware of me too.
By sunset, exhaustion soaked through my entire body.
Coach finally dismissed everyone after conditioning drills.
I collapsed onto the bleachers with a water bottle.
“You looked good today.”
I looked up.
Jace stood a few feet away holding his gym bag over one shoulder.
For a second, I genuinely thought I had imagined the compliment.
“Did you just say something nice to me?”
“Don’t make it weird.”
“Too late. I’m concerned.”
His mouth twitched slightly, which wasn't quite a smile but it was close.
The silence between us felt different now it was less hostile.
Wind pushed loose strands of hair across my face, and before I could move them, Jace reached out instinctively—
Then stopped himself halfway.
The unfinished motion hung heavily between us.
His expression shifted immediately afterward.
Like he hated that he almost touched me.
My heartbeat sped up anyway.
“Why do you look at me like that?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Jace went still.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to figure out whether you hate me or not.”
Something unreadable flashed across his face.
Then he looked away first.
“That’s the problem,” he muttered quietly.
Before I could ask what that meant, Elena’s voice called from across the field.
“Jace!”
We both turned.
She walked toward us wearing his school hoodie, blonde hair glowing gold beneath the setting sun.
And suddenly I remembered exactly why whatever this tension was needed to end immediately.
Jace glanced back at me once.
Just once, but it lasted long enough to make my chest tighten strangely.
Then he walked away with Elena beside him while I stayed frozen on the bleachers pretending my heartbeat wasn’t completely out of control.
This was bad or worse than bad.
Because somewhere between the arguing and the running and the way he kept looking at me—
Jace Donovan had stopped feeling like an enemy.
And started feeling like trouble.
- Writer
