The Curvy Comeback

Chapter 6

LUCAS’ POV

I’ve never cared much for the events or the conversations in the hallways. To me, it’s all noise—pointless, hollow noise that fills space and says nothing.

When your life is built on expectations, on rules that are tight as f**k, you learn early how to block out distractions. My father always said emotions were weaknesses. That wanting was dangerous. That everything I did must serve the family’s name, or it was worthless.

So, I taught myself indifference. I taught myself how to be cold and mind my own damn business.

And it worked—mostly.

Until her.

Ashley.

I don’t even know when it started. Maybe it was back when we were kids—when the fire broke out at the estate, and she stumbled, coughing in the smoke. I had only grabbed her hand for a second before pulling her toward safety, but that second branded itself into my memory. Or maybe it was later, when I’d catch sight of her in a crowded room with sadness in her eyes, her shoulders hunched, laughter forced, yet still… there was something soft in her eyes, something kind despite how cruel the world was to her.

Whatever the reason, I never shook it.

I never meant to say anything. I never meant for her to notice me. It was enough just to know she existed, look at her for a few seconds before I told myself to look away. It was abad habit, that’s all. A weakness I’d learned to live with.

But today? Today, everything felt different.

I’d walked into the hallway expecting the usual pointless noise. Instead, my heart race the moment I saw her. Ashley.

At first glance, she looked… different. Her hair fell straighter. Her clothes looked more stylish. She had lost a whole lot of weight.. People around us whispered like they’d never seen her before. Boys stared. Girls sneered. And Jack—of course Jack—took the opportunity to make everything about himself and mock her

I should have ignored it. I told myself to ignore it. But my eyes refused to look away.

She was standing taller now. I saw fire in her eyes instead of tears. She snapped back at Jack with words that cut him down to size. She didn’t flinch.

And that—God help me—that was the moment something inside me shifted.

But then the thought followed: She must be doing this for him.

For Jack.

That had to be the reason, right? Why else would she change so quickly, so drastically? Everything about her transformation screamed desperation. It gave off the vibe of someone clawing to be noticed, someone starving for validation.

And for years, I’d watched her orbit around Jack like he was the sun. So why would this be any different?

The thought was heavy in my heart and it made something inside me clench. It made me want to punch a wall in anger. I told myself I didn’t care. That I shouldn’t care. That she wasn’t mine to worry about.

But when Jack leaned too close, when his laughter rang out too loudly, when Ashley’s cheeks flushed not with embarrassment but something braver—jealousy twisted inside me.

Jealousy.

A feeling I had no right to.

So I buried it under ice like I do with everything else.

I kept my expression hard when I asked her if she was alright. The words slipped out before I could stop them, before my walls could slam shut. And the way she looked at me—the shock in her eyes, the way her breath caught—it burned deeper than I expected.

Which is why, when Kathy held on to my arm, I pushed her off without hesitation. I couldn’t stand her claws on me, not when Ashley was standing right there.

The gasps around us didn’t matter. Kathy’s fury didn’t matter. What mattered was that when I looked at Ashley again, her eyes were still on me.

And then, before I could say something reckless, I turned and walked away.

Because that’s what I do. I walk away.

I tell myself it’s better this way. It’s safer like this.

For her. For me.

-

The ice rink was silent when I arrived later. Just the way I liked it.

I laced my skates tightly and forced myself to focus. Out here, I wasn’t the heir. I wasn’t the boy carrying generations of expectations. I wasn’t a weakness waiting to be scolded.

Out here, I was in control.

I stepped onto the ice. I could feel the cold air around me as I pushed forward. I pushed myself with each minute that past. I went faster, harder. My puck against the ball made everything else disappear—the whispers, the jealousy, the memory of Ashley’s wide eyes when I spoke to her.

I skated drills until my lungs burned. I perfected my sharp turns and quick stops. I did it over and over. In a way, it was as if I was punishing my body into silence.

But no matter how fast I moved, I couldn’t escape her.

Ashley. Her name echoed over and over in my mind. I couldn’t stop thinking about her face. Her face was different. She was beautiful in a way I hadn’t let myself admit before. Who the hell am I kidding? Ashley had always been beautiful.

Every run I took, I saw her standing taller in that hallway. Every breath I dragged in, I remembered the sound of her voice. It was soft and trembling but strong enough to answer me.

And every time I tried to bury it, the jealousy twisted deeper, reminding me she wasn’t mine. Reminding me she probably never would be.

I pushed harder, skating until my legs ached, until sweat poured at the back of my neck despite the cold. But still—

I couldn’t get her out of my head.

Not now. Not ever.