Chapter 17 – Midnight Mischief
876 Words
The bass thumped so hard it made Lena’s ribs vibrate.
Carly’s house, usually pristine and suburban-perfect, had transformed into a glow-in-the-dark war zone of red cups, flickering LED lights, and bodies moving like one giant pulse. Music screamed from floor-standing speakers, and someone was already dancing on the kitchen island with a glitter boa and suspiciously unbalanced shoes.
This wasn’t just a party.
It was chaos.
Controlled, glittering chaos.
Lena adjusted her black mini skirt—edgy, but not too much—and tugged at the hem of her cropped cardigan. She’d spent nearly forty minutes deciding what to wear and another twenty convincing herself not to back out at the last second.
Now that she was here? Her heart was pounding. But not from nerves.
From anticipation.
“Remind me again why we do this?” Riley shouted over the music, sipping something vaguely tropical from a mason jar.
“Because it’s our civic duty to observe teen clichés from the inside,” Lena joked, eyes already scanning the room.
But he wasn’t there. Not yet.
And she felt it.
The absence.
The buzz of her phone yanked her attention down.
Jace: Two minutes out.
Her breath caught, and something sharp and sweet and electric bloomed in her chest. She texted back a single word:
Lena: Okay.
And then… she waited.
Every second stretched.
Every song felt too long.
Every face felt like not his.
Until—finally—he walked in.
And everything else disappeared.
Jace Blackwood didn’t just enter a room. He changed it.
His hoodie was unzipped just enough to show a silver chain glinting against his collarbone. His dark jeans looked like they’d been made to fit him, and his hair was messier than usual—like he’d just run a hand through it out of frustration or nerves. Or both.
He saw her instantly.
And smiled like he hadn’t seen her in years.
Lena stepped forward before she could second-guess anything, weaving through the crowd until they met halfway.
“Hey,” he said, low and husky.
“Hey,” she replied, trying not to smile too wide.
“You look…” He let his eyes travel slowly, appreciatively, without shame. “…like I should be making bad decisions right now.”
Lena smirked. “You already do.”
He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper against her ear. “Then let’s make one together.”
She didn’t even hesitate.
⸻
They ended up outside, beneath a string of dying fairy lights in Carly’s backyard. It was quieter there—just the occasional echo of laughter, the thump of bass, and the hum of tension between them.
Jace lit a cigarette, then caught Lena’s raised eyebrow.
“I don’t smoke,” he said, grinning, “just dramatic.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet, here you are.”
She leaned against the deck railing, arms crossed. “You didn’t ask why I invited you.”
“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”
Lena looked at him. “I didn’t want us to fade.”
“Fade?”
“You said you’d be there when my minute was over,” she said softly. “I just… didn’t want to wait until one of us forgot why we started this.”
Jace stepped closer, close enough that their knees brushed.
“I didn’t forget,” he said. “Couldn’t. Even if I tried.”
She looked down. “It’s scary.”
“I know.”
“But it’s also real.”
He reached out, fingers brushing hers.
“I only know how to be one thing,” he said. “Honest. Messy. Sometimes too much. But never fake.”
Lena looked up into his eyes. “Then be that. With me.”
And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed or wild this time.
It was slow.
Intentional.
Like every part of him was committing the shape of her lips to memory.
And she kissed him back like she didn’t care who saw. Like the world could end in that backyard and she wouldn’t regret a thing.
Because in that moment, nothing else mattered.
Not the music.
Not the whispers.
Not even tomorrow.
Just this.
Just him.
Just them.
⸻
When they pulled apart, Lena’s face was flushed, her heart racing like it was late to something important.
“We should go back inside,” she whispered.
Jace shook his head. “Or we could leave.”
“Leave?”
“There’s a lake fifteen minutes from here,” he said. “It’s quiet. Dark. No people. No music. Just stars.”
Lena blinked. “That’s… weirdly romantic of you.”
“I contain multitudes.”
She laughed, and the sound surprised her—light, warm, effortless.
“You in?” he asked.
She hesitated.
Then nodded.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m in.”
Jace grinned, grabbed her hand, and tugged her toward his bike.
And as they disappeared into the night, the party raged on behind them—loud, wild, and entirely oblivious.
But Lena didn’t care.
Because for the first time in her perfectly-planned life, she wasn’t trying to belong.
She was just trying to feel.
And with Jace?
She felt everything.
- Writer
