The school's annual Fall Festival was the kind of event Lia usually avoided. Too many people, too much noise, too many fake smiles. But this year, she found herself walking among the crowds, her expression unreadable, hands stuffed in her coat pockets.
Kai was already there, surrounded by friends and admirers, the center of the universe as always. But the second he spotted her, something shifted. He excused himself, weaving through the crowd to get to her.
"You showed up," he said, slightly breathless.
"Don't sound so surprised," she replied, keeping her tone flat. "I was practically blackmailed by Aria."
Kai grinned. "Remind me to thank her later."
They ended up playing carnival games, laughing more than either expected. When it was time for the fireworks, Kai pulled her toward the soccer field.
As the sky exploded in color, Lia tilted her head toward him slightly. "Do you ever get tired of pretending everything's fine?"
Kai looked at her, startled. "Who said I'm pretending?"
She didn't answer. She just watched the sky, but her thoughts were spinning. She couldn't deny how warm she felt next to him, or the way her heart slowed in his presence. She didn't know what scared her more—his unpredictability, or her growing dependence on it.
That night, Lia lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, journal open beside her. She'd written and rewritten the same words a dozen times.
Dear Kai,
I hate that I miss you when you're not around.
I hate that I don't hate you.
She never finished it.
Kai, meanwhile, sat alone in his car outside her house. He didn't know why he was there. Maybe just to feel close. Maybe because he was hoping she'd appear at her window.
He whispered her name like a prayer and drove away before the guilt could sink in.
Detention was not where Lia expected to find herself on a Thursday afternoon, but a sarcastic comment in chemistry landed her there. Kai, unsurprisingly, was already in the room, lounging with his feet on the desk.
"Fancy seeing you here," he said.
"I don't want to talk."
"Then let's not."
But silence was impossible with Kai. He made her laugh. Always did. And when she leaned in to take his pencil, their faces hovered too close—seconds from something they'd both been avoiding.
Then the teacher walked in.
They jumped apart.
The tension didn't.
After detention, they ended up in the library—alone.
Kai closed the book he wasn't reading. "Why do you keep pulling away?"
Lia looked at him, biting her lip. "Because the moment I stop, I'll fall."
He reached for her hand across the table. "Maybe falling isn't the worst thing."
She yanked her hand back. "It is when you don't know if someone's going to catch you."
"I would," he said without hesitation. "Every time."
She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to believe him.
But her heart was still covered in scars she didn't dare reveal.
Lia's mother found the engagement documents.
"You and Kai were always going to end up together," she said simply. "It's been settled since before you were born."
Lia didn't reply. She just stared at the contract in her mother's hand—cold, clinical, legal.
Later that night, she stormed into Kai's room, holding the same papers.
"Is this all a joke to you?" she demanded.
He blinked. "What?"
"This—us. The flirting. The games. You knew about this?"
Kai's jaw tightened. "Yes. But I didn't want it like this. Not because our parents said so."
Her voice trembled. "Then what do you want?"
"You," he whispered. "But only if you want me too."
Lia tried to avoid him after that night, but avoiding Kai was like trying to outrun the sun.
He was everywhere—lingering in hallways, showing up at her locker, texting her songs at 2 a.m. that reminded him of her. And worse, she listened to every one.
She began writing in her journal more.
Why do I feel safer with him than without him?
Why does his touch feel like both a question and an answer?
Why am I so afraid of being loved?
She didn't have answers. But she was beginning to realize she wanted to find them—with him.
One foggy morning, Lia found herself walking to school early, coffee in hand, lost in thought. Then, without meaning to, she turned the corner and saw Kai sitting on the low wall by the gate, holding a second coffee.
"For you," he said. "I figured you'd be early. You always are when you're upset."
She didn't ask how he knew.
She just sat beside him.
They drank in silence.
No teasing. No flirting. Just quiet understanding. She could feel his warmth beside her, could hear the steadiness of his breathing, and for the first time, she wondered what it would feel like to stop running from this.
At a weekend party, a game of Truth or Dare spiraled out of control.
Kai was dared to kiss her.
Everyone cheered.
Lia froze.
But Kai didn't move right away. He looked at her. Really looked.
"I won't if you don't want me to."
And that was the problem. She did.
So when he finally leaned in and kissed her—brief, soft, a brush of promises—everything stopped. The room. The music. Her heartbeat.
She was falling.
And it scared her more than anything.
The rumors exploded on Monday.
Lia. Kai. Secret relationship. Engagement.
Her name was on everyone's lips, and she hated it. She hated the attention, the judgment, the whispers.
Kai found her in the art room, hiding behind a canvas.
"You okay?" he asked.
She didn't answer.
He pulled up a stool beside her. "You don't have to hide."
"I don't want people talking."
He reached out, gently brushing a streak of paint from her cheek. "Then let them. You and me… we're not their story to tell."
And she almost believed him.