Emily's PoV

Walking toward Aiden, I couldn't shake the sense that this might have been a terrible idea. Each step forward felt heavier, like my subconscious was trying to drag me back. What was I even going to say? "Hey, I'm sorry your team thinks you're too intense, but by the way, I made a fool of myself last night and I came to apologize how embarring that was although it has nothing to do with your problem right now"? Yeah, no.

And don't even get me started on the vomit incident. Ugh. Just thinking about it made my cheeks flush. I could only pray Aiden wouldn't bring it up—or worse, tell anyone. That embarrassing episode, paired with my unexpected outburst during truth or dare, had me questioning who I even was last night. Confidence? That wasn't me. Not like that. Where did all that sass come from?

Regina deserved it, sure. But the way I said it—biting, brutal, and in front of everyone—felt wrong. I shouldn't have stooped to her level, no matter how many tequila shots were whispering in my ear. I shook my head, hoping to clear those memories away like cobwebs.

Focus, Emily. The mission right now was Aiden.

Where would he go to sulk? If it were me, I'd sit under a tree or find a sunny spot to clear my head. But Aiden wasn't me. Football was his refuge. Somewhere tied to the game...

Ah.

The bleachers.

I followed my hunch, heading toward the football field. Sure enough, there he was: a solitary figure in a gray hoodie, perched high up on the bleachers. He was staring out at the field, where a couple of guys were tossing a football back and forth.

I climbed up the metal steps, my sneakers clanging softly. He didn't notice me at first, too absorbed in the players on the field. When I reached his row, I paused a few feet away before sitting down.

"It is sunny," I said, mostly to myself, squinting against the light as I tilted my face up toward the sky.

Aiden glanced at me, surprised but not annoyed. "Oh. Hey," he mumbled, scooting his bag to the side to make space.

I sat down, keeping a comfortable distance between us. Stretching my legs out, I leaned back on my hands and let the warmth of the March sun soak into my skin. For a few moments, neither of us spoke. I could feel his eyes on me, though. When I cracked one eye open, I caught him looking—and just as quickly, he turned back toward the field.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, breaking the silence but still watching the players.

"Enjoying the sun," I replied lightly.

"No, I mean... here. With me."

I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. "I thought you might need some company," I finally said.

He frowned. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"I never said we had to talk," I countered. "I can just sit here. No pressure."

Aiden exhaled, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You're—unexpected, you know that?"

I smiled back but didn't reply. Silence seemed to be what he needed, so I let him take the lead. After a few beats, he surprised me by opening up.

"They could've told me sooner," he began, his voice low but heavy with frustration. "We're supposed to be a team. We're supposed to communicate. How am I supposed to lead them if they won't even tell me what's bothering them?" He ran a hand through his hair, clearly wrestling with his thoughts. "It's my job to push them, but also to protect them. To make them better. I failed at that."

He buried his face in his hands for a moment, his elbows resting on his knees.

For a second, he seemed so... human. Vulnerable. I was struck by how much we had in common: self-doubt, overthinking, that crushing pressure to be enough for everyone else.

"I need to do better," he continued, his voice quieter now. "I have to be strong so they can be strong. If we win, they celebrate and move on, but I'm stuck thinking about every mistake, every missed play, every flaw. And if we lose..." He sighed. "They drown it in drinks, but I'm still trying to figure out what went wrong. Because to them, this is just a hobby. But to me, it's..."

"More," I finished softly.

His head turned toward me, his expression surprised but also... grateful.

"Yeah," he admitted. "It's more. It's everything."

I nodded, choosing my words carefully. "It hurts so much because it matters to you. And it's okay if they don't value it the same way you do. Everyone's priorities are different. That doesn't make yours any less valid."

Aiden gave a short laugh, though it lacked humor. "You have this weird way of making things make sense," he said, finally looking me in the eyes.

"Well, it's true. You should chase this passion and turn it into something bigger."

"Do you think I could?" His tone was skeptical, almost defensive. "I mean, I'm not exactly genius material."

"Who said anything about being a genius? You just need to aim for what fits. What do you need to get into a decent university program?"

"Better grades in math, for one. And history. God, I suck at history."

"History?" I grinned. "Lucky for you, I'm a mythology nerd. History's basically my playground. I could tutor you."

"Seriously?" His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Seriously. Let's get you into a university program."

A genuine smile spread across his face. "You're so positive all the time. How do you even do that?"

I shrugged. "It's not magic. Sometimes, mostly it's the small things. Smelling the grass, listening to birds, soaking up the sun. Little stuff that reminds me there's good out there."

He tilted his head, studying me. "You're really something, you know that?"

I laughed. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It was meant as one."

For the first time that day, Aiden looked at ease. As we sat there, letting the sun and the quiet fill the spaces between us, I realized I wasn't just there to comfort him. I was there because I wanted to be.

Emily's PoV

Silence settled between us again as I traced invisible patterns on the cold metal bleachers, my fingers chilled by the evening air. I glanced at Aiden, who remained focused on the field below, his eyes following the players as they moved in slow, casual practice drills. He looked so serious, as though watching them play was solving some deep puzzle in his mind.

"Thanks," he suddenly said, breaking the quiet. His voice was low, almost hesitant, but it caught my attention immediately.

"Thanks?" I repeated, turning to look at him with raised eyebrows. "For what?"

"For... talking to me," he replied, still not meeting my gaze.

I let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "You did most of the talking, honestly."

That earned a soft chuckle from him, and he finally looked over at me. "Well, thanks for listening, then. And for... saying things in a way that actually makes sense."

His words caught me off guard, and I felt my cheeks flush with warmth. I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting nervously. "It's nothing, really," I said, brushing it off. "I kind of owe you, anyway."

Aiden frowned, leaning slightly toward me. "Owe me? For what?"

I hesitated, already regretting bringing it up. "You know... that thing at the party," I said vaguely, hoping he'd drop it.

But, of course, he didn't. "That thing?" He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort.

"When I was... not feeling great," I clarified, avoiding his gaze.

It clicked for him, and he let out a snort. "Oh, that." He grinned, leaning back against the bleacher behind him. "You mean when you had a one-on-one battle with tequila and lost?"

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. "Please don't remind me. I've been trying to forget."

"It happens to the best of us," he said, his tone surprisingly kind despite his teasing. "And, for the record, it wasn't that bad. I've seen worse."

"Worse?" I asked, peeking at him through my fingers.

"Oh, yeah. Trust me," he said with a laugh. "You'd be surprised at the things I've witnessed at those parties. You're a lightweight, but at least you're not the type to start karaoke battles or climb onto tables."

I couldn't help but laugh, though my cheeks were still burning with embarrassment. "It's still mortifying. You didn't have to help me, you know."

"Of course, I did," he said simply, his tone soft. "What was I supposed to do? Just leave you there?"

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just smiled faintly.

"And anyway," he added, his smirk returning, "you were kind of entertaining. Drunk Emily is something else."

"Great," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Glad to know I made such a wonderful impression."

"Oh, you did," he said, his smirk widening. "You even confessed something that night."

My heart dropped. "What are you talking about?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock innocence. "You told me I was your crush."

I froze, my entire body tensing as my face turned beet red. "I did not!"

"Oh, you absolutely did," he said, leaning in closer to me, clearly enjoying himself." You had Al the symptoms"

I groaned, covering my face again. "You're lying." I had no idea if he was say I g the truth since there were blank spaces in my mind of that night"

He laughed, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. "I guess you'll never know."

"You're the worst," I muttered, shaking my head.

"And yet, here you are," he teased.

I couldn't help but laugh despite myself. "Okay, fine. You win. But you're still not funny."

"Oh, I'm hilarious," he said with a grin. "Anyway, are you coming to Saturday's game?"

I blinked at the sudden change in topic. "What?"

"The game," he repeated. "You know, the one we're supposed to win."

"Oh, um..." I hesitated.

"It's okay if it's not your thing," he said quickly, looking away as though trying to downplay his interest.

"It's not my first game, you know," I said, smiling as I remembered the first time I'd gone to watch him play—back when I first started pretending to be his girlfriend.

"Right," he said, nodding. "I remember that."

"Well, I wouldn't mind coming again," I admitted, surprising myself as much as him.

He looked at me, wide-eyed, before quickly composing himself. "Oh. That'd be great. Yeah, uh... that'd be cool."

I bit back a smile, amused by how flustered he seemed. "Cool. Just let me know when to be here."

He nodded, still looking a little dazed.

"By the way," I added, "we should probably schedule those history lessons soon. You know, if you're serious about getting into college."

"Oh, I'm serious," he said with a grin. "But aren't you doing too much for me? Fake girlfriend, now tutor? You're making me look bad."

"You don't owe me anything," I said, shaking my head.

"Well, I think I do," he said thoughtfully. "How about this—I'll take you out for ice cream or something?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "You really want me to gain calories with all that ice cream?"

"Okay, fine," he said, laughing along. "How about movie tickets? "

"Rom-coms only, though. I also accept musicals" I mentioned making him laugh

"Sure" he nodded

"Then its a deal," I said with a smile.

He grinned, looking back at the field as the conversation drifted into silence again. But this time, it wasn't awkward. It felt... comfortable.

I watched him out of the corner of my eye, feeling an unexpected sense of ease settle over me. Maybe Alyssa was right—he did listen to me for whatever reason that was.