I LAY IN THE HOSPITAL bed, staring out the window and toward the city lights.

I was bored and caught up on all my homework, studied, then read a book before jumping onto social media.

I ignored the messages from family, friends and fans. I didn't have the emotional capacity to deal with it all, so I scrolled through my page.

Photos of Jace and I lit the screen. I flicked through them, my tears coming in faster than I expected.

The breakup hurt a lot more than I cared to admit. I sloughed it off like I did everything, pretending to be alright, but deep down... A part of me hated him and was glad for it. I was better off without Jace. But then a small feather of want would drift in, cracking the seed of sorrow I kept tucked away, and the shattered heart I'd pieced back together would obliterate, and I'd find myself crying once again.

Curled beneath the quilted blanket my mom brought, my thumb paused on a photo of us. Jace's smile lit up the screen, his face mud-caked. It matched mine perfectly.

My chest ached. He was the one I'd given my heart to—the one I trusted.

Perhaps I was too naive. Too soft, as my uncle Johnny would say. I wore my tender heart on my sleeve, my arm outstretched for the crows to roost and pick at whenever it suited them.

Jace was a student in one of my dad's summer camps. Every year he applied, and every year he received a scholarship to fill one of the vacant spots for kids that couldn't afford the sport.

He was good, but he needed work, so I casually mentioned his potential to my dad, and eventually, Jace got more time than anyone else with the great Nick Baker. Then ended up on the team.

I scolded myself. I didn't stop to think about what I was doing or question his motives.

I continued to swipe when my eye caught a picture of Lilly, Jessica and I.

I burned and went to my messages, finding one from Hunt.

My tattered heart warmed, and my gaze flicked from the phone to the beautiful bouquet of sunflowers that came earlier today. Thoughts of Hunt trickled in, filling in the cracks of my beaten chest. A chest still sore from all the compressions.

I checked the time, noting how late it was.

He was likely asleep, but it didn't stop me from calling.

"Yeah," he rasped, and I chided myself.

"Were you asleep?"

I heard him shuffle as if he had just realized who it was. "No."

"Liar."

"I can't sleep," he assured me, his vocal cords sounding like they desperately needed water. "I'm sick."

"Sick?"

"I don't know why you sound so surprised. My mouth was stuck to yours for fifteen minutes before the paramedics got there."

I grinned, my heart fluttering like a fourteen-year-old girl's. "You have strep throat?"

I could only assume it was a pill bottle he shook–the noise rattling on the other end. "Rhett picked up my prescription earlier."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine," he assured me. "Though it means I might miss this weekend's race."

Oh god! I forgot the final race this weekend. My heart tumbled to the pit of my stomach. "I'm sorry, Hunt."

"Don't be. There's always next year."

He didn't sound too enthused. If anything, he almost sounded relieved. "How are you?" He asked, partly concerned, though I couldn't help but wonder if he was trying to change the subject.

"Alright. My dad and Nico finally went home," I said, knowing Nico was over the city now that he was grounded for life. "My mom stayed, though."

"That's good to hear."

I smiled ruefully. She wasn't too happy with my dad. I could tell by the tension and the texts Nico sent me about how they wouldn't stop arguing.

I worried about them, hoping it wasn't me who caused their grievance.

Hunt asked about the medication and what the doctors said about the new antibiotic.

It was fine. I was responding well. "I need to wear one of those medical alert bracelets."

He was quiet for a moment. Sad perhaps?

"I should go," he said. "Call me tomorrow?"

His statement was more of a hopeful question, and it had me grinning from ear to ear. "If I'm not busy," I replied, glaring up at the IV.

"I'll talk to you later."

"Wait."

Silence.

"Thank you... for the flowers."

He said nothing, but I could've sworn he was smiling.

"Goodnight, Hunt."

"Night, Baker."

I hung up the phone, my heart brimming.

I knew I should hate Hunt, but I didn't. I never did. Just like Hama didn't hate his father or mother. Taylor Hunt was always allowed a seat at the bar so long as he didn't cause trouble. And Hunt's mom was welcome to visit whenever she pleased.

My phone dinged.

Jace Wynters: Please, Nadine. Answer your phone. I just want to make sure you're okay.

My jaw clenched—my heart about to crush. I loved him once. A part of me still did. But when I needed him he wasn't there. He was out with my supposed friend.

Perhaps it was time to move on and forgive. Not Jace, but Hunt. We'd only started hanging out a few weeks ago, and within that time, he'd done more for me than Jace ever had.

I glanced at my favourite flowers. I'd spent most of my life hating those who cared about me because I was told to. Because I was afraid of looking naive. And yet, I blindly gave every part of myself to those who used me and really didn't give a shit.

Despite what my dad said, I didn't honestly believe Levi Hunt was using me. He didn't need to. He schooled Jace on the track every year. He had sponsorships and endorsement deals from companies beating down his door.

I wanted to believe the lie about who Levi Hunt was perceived to be. God knew it would've made it easier. But I knew who he was beneath all that self assured confidence and swagger.

I didn't hesitate as I blocked Jace. Then opened the Instagram app, deleting every single photo and video of us.

I was ready to take the leap and willing to start again. And I would do so, with my nemesis.

A/N: Hunt sent Nadine flowers! 😭 it's the little things that get me. But what's gonna happen with the race? 👀