I push through the crowded hallway, my notebook gripped tightly in my hands. The bell had rung a few minutes ago, but I'm still caught in the whirlwind of my thoughts. Jack. This project. It's all closing in on me.

The project is due at the end of the semester, but the deadline is nothing compared to what's really happening. I'm working with Jack Carter. The Jack Carter. The guy I've admired from a distance for years, the secret crush I've carried around since freshman year. He's never noticed me before... but now he does. Now, we're partners. Just the two of us.

Every time we meet to work on the project, Jack asks questions. Not just about the assignment, but about me—personal things. Questions that make me nervous, questions I can't answer. He's trying to break through, but I can't let him. I've seen how he is with other girls. The moment they get too close, he shuts down, pushes them away. I can't risk that, not with my secrets. Not with the walls I've built around myself to stay safe.

I try to remind myself that nothing's changed. I'm still the same invisible Aria I've always been. Jack might be noticing me now, but he doesn't know me. He can't.

The memory of that day at the mall still makes me uneasy. The first time Jack, Brent, and Eli saw me outside of school, I wasn't hiding behind my usual hoodie and glasses. I felt confident—someone else entirely. Jack had noticed. Really noticed. He didn't just pass by like usual. His eyes scanned me like he was trying to figure out who I was. It was the first time I felt truly seen by him, and I hated it.

At school, I'm invisible. I like it that way. The girl who keeps her head down, who doesn't draw attention. But at the mall, I was different. And Jack had noticed. He'd seen something in me that even I wasn't sure of.

<>

The game moves fast—blurs of blue and white jerseys crashing into one another, the crack of helmets and pads colliding, the thud of the ball hitting the turf. But I'm barely paying attention to any of it. My eyes keep drifting back to Jack, watching him move with that effortless confidence. Every pass he throws is sharp, his body cutting through the field like he was born for it.

But tonight feels different. Now, we're connected. Tied together by this project that forces us to interact. And with each interaction, the distance I've always kept between us feels thinner, like it's slipping away, and I'm not ready for that.

A roar of cheers pulls me out of my thoughts as Brent breaks through the defensive line, sprinting toward the end zone. The stadium shakes with the force of the crowd's energy, but my focus never leaves Jack. He's at the center of it all, commanding the game. It's the same determination I've always admired, only now it's turned toward me in ways I can't escape.

I remember the first time I came to one of his games. It wasn't just about watching him play—it was about vlogging, capturing the energy of the crowd, the excitement, all while staying hidden. Back then, I was safe. Invisible.

Flashback

After one last look in the mirror, I grabbed my camera and slipped it into my bag. It wasn't just about seeing Jack play; I wanted to capture the energy of the game, the crowd, the excitement. Watching it all over again later would feel like reliving the night in the privacy of my own world.

"You'll be fine," I whispered to myself, slinging the bag over my shoulder. "Just be careful with water, and you'll be good."

I took a deep breath and headed out the door, determined to support Jack from the sidelines, even if it was from the shadows, where I'd always felt safest.

The stadium buzzed with electricity the moment I arrived. Laughter and cheers blended together, students recording TikToks, snapping pictures, lost in the excitement. I was just another face in the crowd, invisible as always. I tucked my camera away for a moment, watching the excitement unfold around me.

Flipping the camera back on, I started capturing the scene. "Hey, guys! It's Aria here, and I'm ready for an epic game day! The energy is insane!" My voice sounded more excited than I felt, but I kept filming anyway, blending in with the noise and chaos of the crowd.

I climbed to the top of the bleachers, away from everyone else, my camera aimed at the field. Jack stood out immediately. Even from a distance, he looked intense, focused, every movement sharp as he threw the ball. I zoomed in, capturing him and Brent warming up together. It felt safer from up there, just another girl in the crowd with a camera.

At halftime, my heart sank a little when I saw Jack wave at a girl wearing his jersey, her face lighting up like fireworks. I knew he didn't mean anything by it—he always chose a random girl to wear his number, but that didn't stop the knot from forming in my stomach.

I pushed the feeling down, determined to focus on the game. But as I looked through my camera, I felt the reality of my situation settle in. I was hiding, terrified of stepping out from behind the lens. Jack was out there, larger than life, surrounded by people who knew him, admired him, while I sat in the shadows, watching from a distance.

That night, I documented the game, captured every touchdown, every cheer. But deep down, I knew I was hiding behind my camera, trying to keep the world from seeing the truth I was too scared to reveal.

Present

Now, sitting here in the bleachers, the memory feels sharper, more real than ever. Back then, I was just a quiet observer, someone hidden in the crowd. But things have changed. Jack isn't just a figure on the field anymore—he's part of my life now, and that terrifies me.

The game is down to the last few minutes, and the tension builds with every play. Jack calls the huddle, his voice clear even from the stands. His focus never wavers, eyes scanning the field, calculating the next move. But for a split second, I see his eyes flick toward the crowd—toward me.

My breath catches. Does he know I'm watching?

The ball flies from his hand, a perfect spiral, cutting through the air. Brent catches it, weaving through defenders like they're not even there. The crowd erupts as he crosses the goal line, securing the win. The scoreboard flashes, another victory, but all I can feel is the tightening in my chest.

The game ends with another victory, and the stadium is alive with celebration. But to me, it feels distant, like I'm watching it all unfold through a fog. Jack jogs off the field, helmet in hand, his usual confident expression replaced by something harder, something intense. His eyes scan the crowd, and for a brief moment, they lock onto mine.

My pulse quickens. Does he know I'm watching?

I don't wait to find out. I slip through the throng of excited students, weaving through the crowd as fast as I can. The energy around me is buzzing with post-game euphoria, but all I feel is the gnawing tension building inside me. I just need to get away—before Jack notices me, before he tries to push for answers I'm not ready to give.

But Eli finds me before I make it to the parking lot.

"You weren't even cheering, were you?" he says, grinning as he jogs up beside me.

I force a smile, though my mind is still spinning from everything. "I was... silently."

Eli laughs. "Sure, sure. But don't think I didn't see you filming. You've got enough footage of Jack to make your own highlight reel."

I blush. He doesn't mean anything by it, but the idea that someone noticed me—noticed my focus on Jack—makes my stomach tighten. Before I can come up with a response, I hear footsteps behind us. I don't need to turn around to know who it is.

Jack.

The moment he reaches us, the air between us changes. There's an intensity to him that wasn't there before. He's still riding the adrenaline of the game, but underneath that, there's something else—something dark and uncertain. His gaze lands on me, and it feels like he's trying to see right through me.

"You two seem to get along pretty well," Jack says, his voice casual, but I can feel the tension lurking beneath it. His eyes flick between Eli and me, his brow furrowed, like he's trying to piece something together.

I shrug, hoping my nonchalance will diffuse the situation. "Eli's just easy to talk to."

Jack's jaw tightens, his expression hardening. "Is that all?" The edge in his tone makes my stomach churn. There's no humor in his voice now, no trace of the usual lightness. His eyes are locked on mine, waiting for an answer I don't want to give.

I glance at Eli, hoping he senses the shift in the air, but he just looks between us, awkward but unaware of the real tension bubbling beneath the surface.

Jack takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "You don't open up like that with me," he says, his voice low, almost accusing. "Why not, Aria?"

My breath catches in my throat. "I—I don't know." It's a weak answer, one that Jack clearly isn't satisfied with.

"What's your deal?" Jack's voice rises, frustration seeping through every word. "You've been dodging me since we started this project. Every time I try to ask you something real, you shut me down. Why? What the hell are you hiding?"

I flinch, the accusation in his words hitting harder than I expect. He's too close, his gaze too sharp, too much. I can feel my chest tighten, the familiar prickle of panic spreading through me. My hands start to tremble, and I fight to keep control, feeling the frost creeping at the edges of my fingers.

"I'm not hiding anything," I say, my voice too soft, too unconvincing. The lie feels heavy between us, thick and undeniable.

Jack's eyes darken. He takes a sharp breath, running a hand through his damp hair, his frustration palpable. "Bullshit." His voice is harsher now, almost raw. "You're always comfortable with Eli, but not with me. Why the hell is it so easy with him and not me?"

His words cut through the air, and it feels like something cracks open inside him. It's not just anger. It's hurt, confusion. There's a vulnerability in his eyes that I've never seen before, and it takes my breath away.

Jack steps back, shaking his head, trying to make sense of the situation. "I don't get it, Aria," he mutters, more to himself than to me. "You let everyone else in. You're fine with Eli, but the second I try to get close, you shut down. What makes me so fucking hard to talk to?"

His voice breaks at the end, and for a moment, I see the wall around him crumble. Jack Carter, the guy who's always in control, always keeping everyone at arm's length, is standing in front of me, confused and hurt. And it's because of me.

I don't know what to say. The weight of his words presses down on me, suffocating, and I can feel my powers stirring beneath my skin, bubbling to the surface. I grip my water bottle so hard it starts to freeze under my palm, and I shove it into my bag before Jack notices.

"I just..." My voice falters, barely above a whisper. "I don't know." It's not enough. It's not even close to what he needs, but it's all I can give.

Jack stares at me, his eyes searching mine for something—anything—that will make this make sense. But I can't give him what he wants. Not now. Not with everything I'm hiding.

"I just want to get to know you, Aria," Jack says, his voice softer now but still edged with frustration. "I want to understand you. Why won't you let me?"

There's something in his voice—almost a plea. It makes my heart ache, and for the first time, I see the vulnerability behind his frustration. He's not just angry; he's hurt. He's trying to break through the walls I've built, and it's tearing him apart that he can't.

I glance at Eli, hoping for an escape, but even he's gone silent now, watching Jack with a mix of confusion and sympathy. He doesn't understand what's happening, but he can feel the weight of it.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, my voice barely audible. It's all I can say. All I have left.

Jack's jaw clenches, his shoulders tense. He looks away for a moment, as if he's trying to gather his thoughts, trying to stop himself from saying something he'll regret. When he finally looks back at me, his eyes are filled with something I can't quite name—hurt, anger, maybe even regret.

"You're impossible," Jack mutters, his voice rough. He runs a hand over his face, clearly trying to calm himself down. "I don't... I don't get it. It's like you're two different people. One minute, you're laughing with Eli, and the next, you're shutting me out. What the fuck is going on?"

His voice cracks at the end, and the rawness in it makes my chest tighten. I can't answer. I don't know how.

"I'm sorry," I whisper again, but it feels hollow. Jack shakes his head, his face unreadable now.

"Forget it," he says, his tone flat, but there's something heavy in his voice, like the words are more painful than he's letting on. "I'm done trying to figure you out."

Without another word, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest. I watch him go, feeling the weight of his frustration, his confusion, pressing down on me. And the worst part is, I know this isn't over. Jack isn't the type to let things go. He'll keep pushing until he gets the answers he's looking for.

But I'm not ready to give them.

<>

The moon pool always feels like a sanctuary, a place where the chaos of the outside world melts away the moment I slip beneath the water. As I swim through the cave and emerge into the pool's shimmering, moonlit surface, the tension in my chest eases, but only slightly. The water wraps around me like a cocoon, cool and soothing, but tonight, it's not enough to calm the storm inside me.

My legs disappear, replaced by the familiar shimmer of scales as my tail emerges, glistening under the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the cave. For a moment, I let myself float, weightless in the water, trying to block out everything—the questions, the lies, Jack's frustration. But it all lingers, pulling at me, even here, where I'm supposed to feel safe.

I dive deeper into the pool, the cool water rushing past me, the sound of it muffling the noise in my head. This is the one place where I can let go, where I don't have to hide what I am. The one place where no one can find me. But tonight, even the moon pool can't take away the heavy weight pressing down on my chest.

I surface slowly, pulling myself onto the rocks that surround the pool, water dripping from my tail as I stretch out on the cool stone. My scales shimmer in the dim light, and I run my fingers over them absentmindedly, feeling the familiar smoothness. Normally, this place brings me peace. But tonight, all I feel is the tension from earlier, the way Jack's words had cut through me like a knife.

His face keeps flashing in my mind—angry, confused, hurt. He's trying to understand me, and I keep pushing him away. I know I can't let him in. I know it. But seeing the way his eyes had softened, the way he'd practically pleaded with me to just let him in, had shaken me more than I want to admit.

I close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath as I sit up on the rock. I press my hand into the water, focusing, feeling the familiar tingle as I summon the power that's been part of me since my first transformation.

I start with Hydrokinesis. The water ripples around my hand, responding to my will. I lift my palm, pulling the water with it, shaping it into a small, delicate orb that hovers in the air. It spins slowly, droplets sparkling in the moonlight like diamonds. I watch the water for a moment, feeling the connection between myself and the element, like it's an extension of me.

But tonight, it feels... off. Like I'm not fully in control.

I raise my hand higher, and the orb follows, growing larger as I pull more water from the pool. The tension inside me seems to seep into the water, making it heavier, harder to control. My hand shakes slightly, and the orb wobbles before splashing back into the pool with a soft thud.

I grit my teeth, frustrated with myself. Why can't I focus? I should be able to handle this by now. But the more I think about Jack—the more I think about his questions and my own inability to answer them—the more unstable my powers feel.

I reach for the water again, this time summoning Hydro-Cryokinesis. The water around my hand begins to crystallize, the droplets turning to ice as they rise in the air. I shape the ice into tiny shards, delicate and intricate, and for a moment, I feel like I have control again. The moonlight reflects off the crystals, casting soft, shimmering light across the cave walls. It should be beautiful, peaceful.

But it's not.

I clench my fist, and the shards shatter, raining tiny pieces of ice back into the water. The sound echoes through the cave, and I press my hands against the rocks, trying to steady myself.

Why can't I just shut it all out?

I let out a sharp breath, curling my fingers into the rock beneath me. My tail flicks in the water behind me, restless, mirroring the anxiety twisting inside me. I know I can't keep pushing people away forever. I can't keep shutting Jack out. But the thought of letting him in—letting anyone in—terrifies me.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the thought. Focus. I need to focus.

I stretch my hand toward the water again, this time focusing on Hydro-Thermokinesis. The water around my fingers heats up, steam rising from the surface as I channel the energy through my hand. I close my fist, the heat intensifying until small bubbles start forming at the surface. The water begins to boil, the steam curling around me in soft tendrils.

But the power feels volatile, harder to control than usual. It's like there's something inside me—an unspoken fear, or maybe guilt—that's amplifying everything. The more I think about Jack, about the way I keep lying to him, the more erratic the power feels.

I press my fist tighter, clenching my teeth as I try to control the boiling water, but the pressure inside me builds. For a moment, I feel like I might lose it. The heat pulses through my hand, and I yank it back just as a small burst of steam escapes, sending a wave of heat into the air around me.

I let out a shaky breath, staring at my trembling hand. It's not supposed to be like this. I'm supposed to have control here. I'm supposed to feel safe. But Jack's words keep echoing in my mind, pulling at the parts of me I've kept hidden for so long.

"I just want to get to know you, Aria."

His voice won't stop replaying in my head. The vulnerability in his eyes. The frustration. The way he kept pushing, kept trying to understand me, even though I kept pushing him away.

Why can't I just be normal? Why can't I let him in, the way I let Eli in so easily?

I stare at the moonlit pool, my reflection shimmering on the surface. The girl looking back at me doesn't feel like the real me. She feels like a stranger, a version of myself I don't fully understand anymore.

Maybe that's why I keep pushing Jack away. Maybe I'm afraid that if he sees me—really sees me—he'll realize I'm not who he thinks I am. That I'm something different, something... broken.

I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of the steam still lingering in the air around me. The moon pool is supposed to be a place of safety, but tonight it feels like even here, I can't escape the weight of my own secrets.

With a flick of my tail, I dive back into the water, swimming deep beneath the surface, letting the coolness wash over me. Down here, there's no need for control, no need to pretend. But I know I can't stay here forever.

Eventually, I'll have to face Jack. And I don't know if I'll be able to keep my walls up when I do.

<>

The next day at school feels like a blur.

From the moment I stepped through the doors, it's like the weight of everything that happened at the football game hangs over me, heavy and suffocating. Jack's frustrated words replay in my head, and the memory of Eli standing there, watching, knowing something's off—it's too much. I can't deal with it. Not today.

I avoid them both.

First period passes without incident. I keep my head down, scribbling notes that I don't really need, just to keep my hands busy. Every time the door creaks open, I tense, wondering if Jack or Eli might walk in, but neither of them shows up.

Thank God.

By second period, my nerves are frayed. It's not just the anxiety—it's my powers. They're on edge, just beneath the surface, ready to lash out if I lose focus for even a second. The way I barely held it together yesterday, the way everything felt out of control—I can't let that happen again. I can't afford any mistakes.

When the bell rings, I'm the first one out of the classroom. I don't stop by my locker. I don't make eye contact with anyone. I just keep walking, weaving through the crowded halls like a ghost. Invisible.

Third period. History. I sit in the back, as far away from anyone as possible. I keep my eyes glued to my notebook, but I can feel Eli's presence in the room. He's there, somewhere, probably watching me, wondering what the hell is going on. I can practically feel his curiosity buzzing in the air.

Don't look. Just don't look.

I grip my pen tighter, my hand shaking slightly as I write. The ink smudges across the page, and I let out a frustrated sigh. Everything feels off today. I'm not myself. I can't think straight. My powers are acting up, and it's all because of this stupid project—because of Jack.

Why did I have to be partners with Jack? Why did the teacher choose him to be partner? Why did I let myself get sucked into his world, into his orbit?

As the bell rings again, I bolt out of the room, ignoring the way Eli glances in my direction. I need space. I need to breathe. I need to get the hell away from all of this.

Lunch.

I didn't have friends to begin with. Ever since my freshman year started, I've been alone. No one noticed me, and that's how I preferred it. Invisibility was my protection, my shield from everything. And now, here I am, dragged into something I never asked for. Somehow, I got pushed into Jack's orbit, pulled into his world without any warning. And just when I thought that was enough, Eli showed up too—curious, kind, and persistent.

It feels like everything's spiraling out of control, and I don't even know how it happened. I've always been on the sidelines, invisible, hidden in the background where no one could bother me. I liked it that way. I needed it that way.

But now... everything's different.

I don't even have anyone to hang out with anymore. Not that I ever really did. I've always kept to myself, always stayed out of the way. But now, with Jack and Eli hovering around, the thought of sitting in the cafeteria feels unbearable. I don't belong there. I don't belong with them.

They're not my friends. They're just... people I got tangled up with.

I don't sit with anyone. Instead, I make a beeline for the library, hoping for some peace and quiet. Hoping to find some small shred of the invisibility I've lost. The rows of bookshelves provide a temporary sense of security, a buffer between me and the chaos of the school. The noise fades, replaced by the soft rustling of pages and the hum of the air conditioner. Here, in the quiet corners of the library, I can almost pretend that everything is normal. That I'm still invisible.

I find a corner in the back, hidden from view, and slump into the chair, letting out a shaky breath.

This is where I belong. In the shadows. Away from everything. Away from them.

My fingers tighten around the edges of my notebook as I try to focus on something—anything—that isn't the overwhelming mess my life has become. But my mind won't stop racing. I can feel the pressure building inside me, this constant, gnawing tension that I can't shake. It's like ever since Jack entered my life, everything has been tilted on its axis, and I can't find my balance.

I never wanted this. I didn't want to be noticed. I didn't want to be part of some stupid group project that forced me to get close to someone like Jack Carter. And I definitely didn't want Eli, with his easy smiles and probing questions, worming his way into my head too.

I don't belong in their world.

I don't belong anywhere.

I stare at the shelves in front of me, but the books blur together, my thoughts too loud to ignore. How did I get here? How did I go from being invisible to being tangled in this mess with Jack and Eli, both of them asking questions I can't answer, both of them pushing me in directions I don't want to go?

Why can't I just stay invisible?

The frustration wells up inside me, sharp and suffocating. It's all too much—the project, Jack's questions, Eli's curiosity, the pressure of holding everything together while my powers spiral out of control. I close my eyes, my grip tightening on the notebook in my lap, trying to ground myself, but it's not working.

I was fine before this. I was fine on my own, staying in the background, unnoticed. Now I don't know what I am anymore. Everything is slipping out of my control, and I can't stop it. Not Jack, not Eli, not even myself.

I press my palms into my eyes, trying to block out the world around me. But the weight of it all sits heavy on my chest, suffocating, unrelenting. I thought the library would be a refuge, a place where I could hide like I used to, but even here, I feel exposed. Like no matter where I go, they're still there—Jack's voice echoing in my head, Eli's questions hanging in the air.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

We're halfway done with the project. Halfway. But there are still parts that need to be finished—questions that Jack needs me to answer. Personal questions. Questions I'm not ready to talk about, much less with him.

I grip my notebook tighter, my knuckles white. Why does it have to be like this? Why can't we just finish the damn project without turning everything into some kind of emotional minefield?

I've already done Jack's part. I know his habits, his routines, his football stats. I know the way he talks about his family, the way his face softens when he mentions his siblings. I know more about him than I want to admit.

But Jack... he doesn't know me. Not really. His answers about me are vague—barely scratching the surface. He keeps asking deeper questions, and every time he does, I deflect. I shut him down. Because if I let him in—if I let him see the real me—everything will unravel.

Fuck. Why did I let it get to this point?

The library feels too small, too stifling. I can't breathe. I need to get out of here.

I glance around, making sure no one's looking, then stand up, heading for the door. My heart races as I reach the hallway, ducking into a corner. The whispers of students pass by, but none of them notice me.

Good.

I press my hand into my pocket, curling my fingers into a fist, and close my eyes. Invisibility flickers around me like a bubble, wrapping me in its protective shield. I slip through the hallways, unseen, unnoticed. Just the way I like it.

The moment I'm out of the school gates, I drop the invisibility and make a break for it. My heart pounds in my chest as I run, heading straight for the one place I know no one can find me—the moon pool.

Fuck school. Fuck this stupid project. And fuck Jack for making everything so damn complicated.

By the time I reach the beach, I'm breathless, my legs burning from the run. The moon pool is just ahead, hidden from view by the rocky cliffs. It's my sanctuary. My escape.

I dive into the water, my body transforming instantly. The familiar shimmer of scales replaces my legs as my tail appears. I swim deeper, letting the cool water wash over me, soothing the heat of frustration that's been building inside me all day.

The moon pool is quiet, the only sound the gentle lapping of water against the rocks. I pull myself onto the edge, my tail flicking idly behind me, and stare up at the small patch of sky visible through the cave's opening.

I need to calm down. I need to get a grip.

But I can't. Jack's words keep echoing in my head, and no matter how much I try to push them away, they keep clawing back into my mind.

What the hell is wrong with me?

"Shit," I mutter under my breath, pressing my hands into the rock. The water beneath me ripples slightly, reacting to my mood. My powers are still too close to the surface, too unpredictable.

I close my eyes, trying to focus, trying to channel the energy inside me. Hydro-Thermokinesis stirs beneath my skin, and I press my hand into the water, heating it slowly, letting the steam rise in soft tendrils.

It helps. A little. The heat calms me, grounds me.

But it's not enough.

Why does everything feel so fucking out of control? Why can't I just be normal, just for one day?

I clench my fists, the steam rising faster now, hotter. I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to let the power spill out. I can't lose control. Not here. Not now.

"Get a grip, Aria," I mutter to myself. "Just... get a fucking grip."

But even as I say it, I know I'm losing control. Little by little, everything is slipping through my fingers.

<>

The moon pool had been my escape, a place to lose myself in the cool depths of the water. But as I swim back to the mainland, the weight of everything I've been avoiding presses down harder.

As I step out onto the beach, I feel the familiar pull of the world closing in around me. My legs return as my tail fades, the shimmer of scales vanishing completely. I'm fully dry now, my clothes crisp and untouched by the water, but my mind is anything but calm.

I head toward my car parked just beyond the dunes. My heart races with the knowledge that I've been avoiding Jack all day—dodging him, Eli, school, everything. I needed space. I needed time to think, but now... there's a nagging feeling that I can't outrun.

I tell myself I'm fine, but deep down I know it's not true.

Before heading home, I decide to stop at the convenience store nearby. I'm starving after the speed swimming, and my body craves something to ground me. I park outside, pushing open the car door with a sigh, already feeling the exhaustion settle into my bones.

But just as I'm about to step inside, a familiar voice cuts through the quiet, freezing me in my tracks.

"Hey."

I turn around slowly, my breath catching in my throat. Jack is standing a few feet away, his arms crossed, his face tight with a mix of emotions. His voice is sharp, but there's something else there too—something I can't quite read.

"Do you think maybe, after all those calls and texts, you could've let me know you were okay?" His voice is sharp, every word hitting harder than the one before.

I reach for my phone, my stomach sinking as I see the notifications—16 missed calls and a flood of texts, all from Jack. My fingers tremble slightly as I shove the phone back into my pocket.

"I... I needed a break from school. That's all," I say, my voice weak. It's a pathetic excuse, and I know it.

Jack's face hardens, his eyes narrowing as he takes a step closer. "A break? You disappeared, Aria. No one even noticed you were gone except for me." His voice is low, but the tension in it makes my chest tighten. "I thought something happened to you."

There's anger in his tone, but beneath that, there's worry—a kind of worry that makes me feel small, like I've done something terribly wrong. He looks at me like I've betrayed him, and the weight of it is suffocating.

"You just skipped school, avoided everyone—avoided me," he continues, his words sharper now. "I thought you were done with this project, but I didn't think you were done with everything else."

I wince at his words. He's not just angry—he's worried. He thought something happened. And here I am, standing in front of him, perfectly fine on the outside, but cracking underneath it all.

I don't know what to say. My throat tightens, and I can feel the weight of everything I've been holding back rising to the surface, ready to spill over. I've been avoiding Jack not just because of the project, but because I can't keep hiding how close I am to breaking.

"I'm fine," I manage, but the words sound hollow, even to me.

Jack's jaw clenches, and for a moment, he just looks at me—really looks at me, like he's trying to figure out what's going on in my head. "You don't look fine, Aria," he says, his voice softer now but still laced with frustration. "You don't have to keep pushing everyone away."

His words cut deeper than I expected, and before I can stop it, tears well up in my eyes. I try to blink them away, to hold them back, but it's useless. Everything—everything I've been holding in—starts to unravel. The weight of hiding my secret, the fear of letting anyone get too close, the suffocating loneliness of my parents always being gone, the constant pressure of keeping my powers in check—it's all crashing down on me at once.

I feel the ache of it, deep in my chest, and no matter how hard I try to keep it together, it's all too much. It's like I'm standing at the edge of a cliff, barely holding on, and I'm so damn tired of pretending I'm okay when everything inside me is breaking.

I can't hold it together anymore.

"I—" My voice cracks, and I choke back a sob, but it's no use. The tears spill over, and suddenly I'm crying—right there, in the middle of the parking lot, in front of Jack.

The walls I've spent so long building are crumbling, and I can't stop it.

Jack's expression shifts instantly. The anger drains from his face, replaced by something softer—concern. Real, genuine concern.

"Aria..." he starts, but I shake my head, trying to wipe away the tears with the back of my hand.

"I'm sorry," I manage between shaky breaths. "I'm so sorry. I just... I couldn't... I couldn't keep it together."

Jack doesn't say anything at first. He just watches me, his brow furrowed, and for a moment, I wonder if he's going to walk away—if he's going to tell me I'm too much, that I'm not worth the effort.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he steps closer, closing the distance between us. He doesn't ask any more questions. He doesn't push for answers. He just... stands there, waiting, letting me cry, letting me fall apart without judgment.

I don't know what to do with his silence. It's comforting in a way I didn't expect.

When my sobs finally start to slow, I glance up at him, wiping my face again. Jack's still there, his expression unreadable, but his presence is steady. Strong.

He doesn't ask why. He doesn't push for explanations.

"Jack, I..." I trail off, not knowing how to explain everything I'm feeling. Not knowing how to tell him that it's not just school, that it's everything—my secret, my powers, my life spiraling out of control.

But he doesn't need me to explain. He just nods, as if telling me it's okay. That I don't need to have all the answers right now.

"You don't have to explain," he says quietly, his voice calm. "Not right now."

His words are simple, but they're exactly what I need. I nod, grateful that he's not pushing, that he's giving me space to just... exist. To breathe.

We stand there for a while, neither of us saying anything. Jack's presence is enough, his silence offering a comfort that words couldn't. It's not what I expected. I thought he'd push, demand to know why I've been avoiding him, why I broke down.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he just stays.

And for now, that's enough.

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A/N: Damn, even I'm crying while writing this. The hell? Anyway, please comment, vote, and feedback. It's greatly appreciated.