I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to steady my breath. It's like the air is thick between us, heavy with everything unsaid. Jack stands there, only a few feet away, but the distance between us feels bigger than ever. His eyes are on me—waiting, watching—but I don't know how to explain what just happened.

"Are you... okay?" Jack's voice is careful, cautious, but I can hear something else underneath it. Something harder to pin down.

I nod, but it's not the truth. "Yeah. I'm fine," I mutter, trying to sound convincing. But I can't even look him in the eye. I know he doesn't believe me.

The silence stretches between us, awkward and tense. I hate this feeling. I hate that I've made everything so complicated. And Jack... he's still standing there, his body stiff, like he's waiting for me to say something—anything—to make this make sense. But I don't have the words.

Jack shifts on his feet, and I catch the way his jaw tightens, the way his hands curl into fists inside his jacket pockets. He's trying to stay calm, but I can tell—he's frustrated. He's always been so steady, so in control, but right now, there's something simmering beneath the surface. Something he's not saying.

"Look, I'm sorry," Jack says, his voice rougher than before. "About yesterday at the game... and today. I shouldn't have pushed you like that."

I glance up at him, surprised by his apology. I wasn't expecting that—not from Jack. But his expression isn't just apologetic. It's conflicted. His brows are furrowed, his jaw still tense, and there's this look in his eyes like he's fighting something—something bigger than just an apology.

"I didn't mean to make things worse," he continues, but I can hear the frustration creeping into his voice. "I just... I don't get it. I don't get why you keep shutting me out."

His words hit me harder than I expect, and I flinch slightly. He's not yelling, but there's a sharpness in his tone, like he's holding back—like there's more he wants to say, but he doesn't know how.

"I just need some time," I say quickly, hoping it'll calm him down. "Once I figure things out, I'll give you the answers you need for the project."

I pause, and before I can stop myself, the words slip out: "And then we can go back to being strangers."

The second I say it, I regret it. I see the change in Jack's expression immediately—his jaw tightens even more, and his eyes darken with something I can't quite name. He looks... hurt. But more than that, he looks angry.

"Strangers?" Jack repeats, his voice lower now, like he's testing the word out, seeing how it feels.

I nod, looking away. "Yeah. Once the project's done, we can just... go back to how things were before."

The silence that follows is suffocating. I can feel Jack's frustration building, like a wave crashing against the shore, waiting to break. I glance up at him, and his face is hard—his eyes locked on mine, his fists still clenched in his pockets. He looks like he's barely holding himself together.

"We don't have to be strangers," Jack says, his voice tight, controlled. But I can hear the edge of anger in it now. "We don't have to go back to the way things were."

I blink, taken aback by the intensity in his voice.

Jack takes a step closer, and I can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his frustration is boiling just beneath the surface. He's trying to keep it together, but it's clear he's not okay with this. He's not okay with me pushing him away.

"I don't get it," he says again, his voice rougher now. "I'm trying here, Aria. I'm trying to understand what's going on with you, but you keep pulling away, and I don't know why."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I want to tell him why. I want to explain everything—the secrets, the fears, the way I'm terrified of letting him in. But I can't. Not yet. Not like this.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, my voice small, but it doesn't feel like enough.

Jack shakes his head, his frustration bubbling over now. "I don't need you to apologize, Aria. I just... I don't know what you want from me." He runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping it tightly for a moment before he lets it fall. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do here."

There's a pause, and I can see the struggle in his eyes—like he's fighting with himself. He's angry, but it's more than that. It's confusion. Confusion about why he cares so much, why he's so invested in someone who keeps pushing him away.

"I thought we were getting somewhere," Jack says, his voice softer now, but there's still that tension in it. "I thought you were starting to open up, and then... then you just shut down again."

I look away, guilt twisting in my chest. He's right. I've been pulling away, shutting him out, and I don't even know how to explain why. It's not that I don't want to get closer to him. It's that I'm scared. Scared of what he'll think if he really knew me.

"I just... need more time," I manage to say, but it feels weak, even to me.

Jack lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. He's still frustrated—I can see it in the way he's standing, the way his hands keep curling into fists and then unclenching, like he's trying to release some of the tension. But he's also... holding back. I can tell he's fighting with himself, trying not to push me too hard, even though he's right on the edge.

"Fine," he says finally, his voice tight. "Take your time. But don't... don't think we have to go back to being strangers." He pauses, and there's something softer in his eyes now, something almost vulnerable. "We can be friends, okay?"

Friends.

The word hangs in the air between us, and for a moment, I don't know how to respond. Jack's standing there, looking at me like he's offering me something fragile, something he's not sure I'll take. His frustration is still there, simmering beneath the surface, but there's something else now—something I didn't expect.

He doesn't want to be strangers. But why?

I nod slowly, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Jack's expression softens slightly, but I can still see the conflict in his eyes. He's relieved, but at the same time, I can tell he's not entirely satisfied. There's something unresolved between us, something that's still gnawing at him.

As we walk toward the parking lot, I steal a glance at Jack. His hands are stuffed into his jacket pockets, his shoulders still tense. He's not saying much, but I can feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of us. He's trying to be patient, trying to let me have my space, but I can see the way his jaw clenches every few seconds, the way his eyes flicker with frustration when he thinks I'm not looking.

He's struggling. Struggling with whatever's going on inside him—this mix of frustration, confusion, and... something else. I can't figure it out, but I can tell it's tearing him up inside.

"You need a ride back to your car?" Jack asks suddenly, his voice a little softer now, but there's still a rough edge to it, like he's trying to keep his emotions in check.

I shake my head quickly. "No, I've got it."

Just as I'm about to walk away, my stomach growls—loud enough to cut through the tension between us. I freeze, mortified, feeling the heat rush to my cheeks.

Jack raises an eyebrow, and for a second, his frustration melts away. He chuckles, low and warm. "You hungry, Morales?"

I nod, biting my lip.

"Well," he says, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Why don't we grab some food? My treat."

For a moment, the tension lifts, and I feel a small sense of relief. But as we head toward the car, I steal another glance at Jack. His smile is there, but the frustration hasn't completely left his eyes. He's still holding something back. Still wrestling with whatever's going on inside him.

And I can't help but wonder... what happens when he can't hold it back anymore?

I hesitate for a moment, standing in the parking lot as Jack offers to drive us somewhere to eat. . The idea of getting food with Jack feels... surreal. Just the two of us, in his car. Alone. My stomach twists, but it's not just from hunger anymore. It's the thought of spending more time with him, time that feels both exciting and terrifying. But I can't back out now.

"Okay," I whisper, a little unsure. Jack smiles, and that easy grin he flashes makes the tension between us feel lighter, even if only for a moment. He nods toward his car, and I follow.

Then I see it. The car.

A red BMW M3.

My heart skips a beat. I try to act casual, but I can't help the way my eyes widen slightly at the sight of it. I've always had a soft spot for BMWs—sleek, powerful, everything I'd imagine in a dream car. And here Jack is, standing next to it like it's nothing. Like it's just another part of his perfect life. I think of my Honda Accord parked a few rows away and the way it always rattles when I start it up.

I steal another glance at the BMW. It's perfect. Like Jack's family. Like his grades. His friends. And then there's me, with my too-big glasses and vlogger persona that no one knows about, struggling just to blend into the background. I feel like I don't belong in this world of his. But here I am, walking toward his car anyway.

Jack opens the passenger door for me, and I slide into the seat, sinking into the soft leather. I instantly notice the scent—it smells clean, like pine and fresh air. Everything in the car is immaculate, even though his football gear is stashed in the back. No crumbs. No stains. Nothing like the clutter in my car, where the floor is littered with random papers and empty water bottles.

Jack closes the door and heads around to the driver's side, settling in with an effortless kind of confidence that makes my heart skip again. He's in control, always so... sure of himself. It's unsettling and comforting at the same time.

As we pull out of the parking lot, I can't help but steal glances at the dashboard, the sleek interior. The car purrs under his hands, and we cruise smoothly through town. Everything about it feels polished, perfect. Like him.

And then there's me. A girl who doesn't belong in this world of his, but somehow... I'm here anyway.

We pull into The Hub, and the instant recognition hits me. My stomach twists again, this time with nerves. The Vibe Loft. I've heard people talk about it—everyone goes here. It's the popular hangout, the kind of place you only go if you've got friends or want to be seen. I've never been here. Never had a reason to come.

The building stands tall, two stories of neon lights and polished windows. I've heard it's filled with karaoke booths, arcade games, and endless places to lounge and eat. It's the kind of place where you're supposed to have fun, but the moment I step out of the car, I feel a knot form in my chest.

"You've been here before?" Jack asks casually, as he locks the car and walks up beside me.

I shake my head, my voice barely audible. "No. I've heard about it."

Jack doesn't push. He just nods, leading the way inside like this is the most natural thing in the world. But for me... it's overwhelming. The second we step inside, the noise hits me like a wave—laughter, arcade machines beeping, music pulsing from the speakers overhead. The scent of fried food and sugary drinks fills the air, making my stomach churn, even though I know I'm hungry.

I glance around, and it feels like every eye in the room is on us. Whispers ripple through the crowd as people from school catch sight of us. I don't hear the exact words, but I know what they're thinking. They see me—me—walking in with Jack Carter. The Jack Carter. And they're wondering what someone like him is doing with someone like me.

I shrink back without realizing it, letting Jack walk ahead. The stares feel too heavy, like a weight pressing down on me from all sides. I don't belong here, not with him. Not with all these people who fit in so easily.

Jack doesn't seem to notice at first. He moves ahead, weaving through the crowd like he belongs, like he's used to the attention. But then he stops. He turns, and his eyes find me standing a few steps behind him, hesitating.

His brows furrow in confusion for a second, and then I see the moment he realizes what's happening. His gaze flicks to the crowd, to the people staring, whispering, and then back to me. He walks over, leaning in close, his voice low.

"Hey... just ignore them, okay? Stop doing that. We're friends, remember?" His words are calm, but there's something firm in them too, like he's trying to make me see something I don't.

I nod, even though my throat feels tight. Friends. The word feels foreign, strange between us. I'm not sure I believe it, but I say nothing.

We head upstairs, and the noise changes—it's still loud, but now it's the beeping and shouting from arcade games, mixed with laughter and the low hum of conversation. The second floor is packed with students lounging around, eating, playing games. I try to blend into the background as we make our way through the crowd, but I can still feel the eyes on us, the curious looks, the whispers.

Jack walks confidently ahead, but I notice how he keeps glancing back at me, checking to see if I'm okay. It's subtle, but I can tell he's watching, making sure I'm not feeling overwhelmed. He shifts closer when we pass a particularly loud group, his arm brushing against mine. It's almost like he's trying to shield me from the stares, from the noise, without drawing more attention to us.

It's strange—having someone be so aware of me. I'm used to being invisible, slipping past unnoticed. But Jack... he sees me.

We find a small table in the corner, tucked away from the main crowd, and Jack steps up to order. The Sizzling Sensation is the burger joint everyone raves about, and I watch as he orders two burgers, fries, and drinks like he's done this a thousand times. He doesn't even ask me what I want—he just orders, like he already knows.

When he turns back with the receipt, he gives me a small smile. "I got this."

I blink at him, feeling a mix of surprise and awkwardness. "Thanks," I mumble, not sure how to feel about him taking control like that. It's... nice, in a way. Like I don't have to worry about anything for once. But it's also strange. I'm not used to this kind of attention—this kind of... ease.

We sit down, waiting for our food, and I feel a little more at ease now that we're away from the crowd. The noise is still there, but it feels distant. Jack leans back in his chair, stretching out a little, looking completely relaxed. Like this is where he belongs.

I steal a glance at him, still trying to process everything. He's calm, confident, and in control, while I'm... none of those things. But sitting here with him, it feels like maybe—just maybe—I don't have to be. Maybe it's okay to just... exist. To not have all the answers.

"You good?" Jack's voice breaks through my thoughts, and I look up to find him watching me, his eyes soft with concern.

I nod quickly. "Yeah. Just... not used to this."

Jack doesn't push for more. He just smiles, leaning forward slightly. "You'll get used to it. We can come back another time if you want."

Another time. The idea of coming back here with him again makes my heart race, but I push the thought down. Baby steps. This is just... baby steps.

As we settle in at the table, I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing a little. The noise around us feels a little distant now, muffled by the walls of the corner we've found. Jack's leaning back in his chair, relaxed, his eyes scanning the room casually. I fidget with the hem of my sweater, unsure of what to do with my hands.

"Hey," Jack says suddenly, leaning forward again. "You ever play arcade games?"

I blink, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, not really," I admit, shrugging slightly. "Never really had the chance."

A grin spreads across his face, and it's the kind of grin that makes me think he's up to something. "Wanna try?"

I hesitate, my mind racing. Arcade games? It seems so... casual. But there's a gleam in Jack's eyes that makes me curious, and before I can overthink it, I nod. "Sure."

Jack gets up, nodding toward the arcade section. The place is buzzing with students gathered around flashing screens, the sound of buttons mashing and coins clinking filling the air. I follow Jack through the rows of games, feeling the weight of eyes on us again, but he doesn't seem to care. He's calm, at ease.

We stop in front of a racing game—a flashy machine with two seats, steering wheels, and pedals. Street Racer X. The screen flashes with images of cars zooming through neon-lit cities, and Jack gestures toward one of the seats.

"You take that one. I'll show you how it's done," he says, grinning like a little kid.

I laugh softly, feeling a little more at ease. I slide into the seat, and Jack sits beside me, buckling himself in as if it's a real car.

The game starts, and I'm thrown into a world of high-speed car chases and narrow turns. The adrenaline hits me immediately, and I grip the steering wheel tightly, trying to keep up with the flashing lights and sudden obstacles. Jack is already ahead, effortlessly navigating the course, while I'm struggling to stay on the road.

"Come on, Morales, is that all you got?" Jack teases, glancing over at me with a smirk.

"Shut up!" I laugh, feeling the tension ease even more as I throw myself into the game. My heart pounds in my chest as I swerve around corners, narrowly missing obstacles that Jack seems to glide past with ease. It's fast, intense, and completely out of my comfort zone, but for the first time all day, I don't feel like I'm drowning.

I hit a straight stretch, my fingers aching from gripping the wheel so tightly, and suddenly, I'm gaining on him. Jack's still in the lead, but I can see him glancing over at me now, his competitive edge kicking in.

"You're getting better," he says, his voice low with concentration.

I press down harder on the pedal, biting my lip as I swerve around a final corner, the finish line in sight. Jack's car is just ahead, but I'm right behind him, my car flying down the final stretch. For a moment, I think I might actually pass him.

And then I crash.

The screen flashes red, my car flipping into the air in a fiery explosion. Jack crosses the finish line seconds later, and he throws his hands up in victory, laughing as he looks over at me.

I let out a groan, but I'm smiling. "I almost had you."

Jack shakes his head, still grinning. "Almost. But not quite."

I unbuckle myself, feeling the rush of adrenaline still pulsing through me. It's silly—just a game—but it felt like an escape. For a few minutes, I wasn't thinking about all the whispers, all the eyes on us. I was just... playing.

Jack stands up, stretching. "You did pretty good for your first time. Next time, you'll probably beat me."

I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling. "Maybe."

As we head back to our table, I feel a little lighter, a little less overwhelmed. Jack is talking about the game, teasing me about my terrible driving skills, and I can't help but laugh along with him. The tension that had been hanging over us earlier feels like it's lifted, if only for a moment.

But then I catch a glimpse of someone from school—two girls at a table nearby, staring at us. They're whispering, their eyes darting between me and Jack. One of them raises an eyebrow, and I can feel the weight of their judgment settling on my shoulders again. My heart sinks.

I look down, feeling that familiar anxiety creeping back in.

Jack notices the shift immediately. He glances over at the girls, his jaw tightening for a brief second. But he doesn't say anything. Instead, he leans in close, his voice soft but firm.

"Hey... remember what I said. Just ignore them. They don't know anything."

I nod, trying to brush it off, but it's hard. The ease I'd felt during the game is slipping away, and I'm back to feeling like the odd one out. The girl who doesn't belong.

We sit back down, and Jack orders our food—two burgers and fries, simple and easy, but I can feel the tension creeping back in. The noise of the arcade feels louder now, the whispers sharper. I glance at Jack, but he's calm, still focused on making sure I'm okay.

I lean back in my seat, feeling a little more relaxed than I did when we first walked in. The arcade game with Jack had been... fun. A lot more fun than I expected. For a few moments, I forgot about the whispers and stares, and for once, I just let myself enjoy the moment. The weight on my chest felt a little lighter, but now, sitting here again, that tension is starting to creep back in.

Jack wipes his hands with a napkin, finishing the last bite of his burger. He leans back in his chair with a satisfied grin. "Not bad, right?"

"Not bad," I admit, a small smile tugging at my lips. It's hard to stay tense around him when he's this relaxed, like everything comes so easily to him.

He stands up, stretching his arms. "I'm gonna grab a smoothie. You sure you don't want anything?"

I shake my head. "No, I'm good. I'm full."

He shrugs and heads to the counter, leaving me alone at the table. The noise of the arcade surrounds me—laughter, the beeping of games, the clatter of trays—but it feels distant, like I'm floating just outside of it all. I take a deep breath, sinking back into my seat. It's strange, being here with him like this—just hanging out. It feels normal, almost too normal. I'm not used to this kind of thing... being noticed, being included.

But at the same time, there's a flutter of something else. Jack is... different from how I imagined. I glance at him, standing by the counter, joking with the cashier. He's confident, sure of himself, but there's something more. A softness, maybe. He's not pushing me, not forcing anything, but he's always watching. Always checking.

He comes back a few minutes later, a bright green smoothie in hand. He sits down with a grin, taking a long sip. "You don't know what you're missing."

I chuckle softly, watching him as I push my tray aside. He leans back, the smoothie in front of him, and we sit there for a moment in comfortable silence.

But then I notice something strange. His smoothie... it's melting. The bright green liquid starts dripping down the side of the cup, faster than it should. The condensation on the cup turns into droplets, sliding down in thick streams. My heart skips a beat.

No. Not again.

I swallow hard, my body tensing. Hydro-Thermokinesis. It must have triggered again without me realizing. I can feel the heat in the air, faint but present, pulsing with my growing panic.

Jack frowns down at his cup, wiping at the condensation with a napkin. "What the hell? Why is this thing melting so fast?"

He's confused, and my panic sharpens. If he starts asking questions—if he realizes something's off—I don't know what I'll say. I take a deep breath, trying to calm the rush of anxiety surging through me. I need to fix this. Fast.

"It's... warm in here," I say, forcing a casual tone even though my heart is racing. "Maybe it's just that."

Jack looks around, his frown deepening. "I guess... but it doesn't feel that warm."

His confusion makes my stomach twist tighter. I can't let him figure this out—not yet. I glance down at the smoothie, watching the liquid drip down the side of the cup, and I feel the familiar heat in my palms, the pulse of my powers itching to be released. But instead of using Hydro-Thermokinesis to heat things up more, I make a choice.

Time to cool it down.

I reach under the table, subtly curling my fingers into a fist, tapping into my Hydro-Cryokinesis. I focus on the water droplets forming around Jack's cup. I imagine the molecules slowing down, the temperature dropping. The cold energy flows through me, spreading to the cup as I carefully freeze the condensation, forcing the water to solidify. Slowly, the drips stop, the air around us cooling just enough to balance out the melting.

Jack notices immediately, his eyes narrowing at the smoothie. "Huh. It's stopped melting." He reaches out, touching the side of the cup. "That's so weird. It was melting just a second ago."

I try to keep my voice steady. "Maybe it was just a fluke?"

Jack gives me a strange look, like he's trying to figure out something he can't quite put into words. His brow furrows for a moment, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, wondering if he's going to ask more questions. Does he suspect something?

But then he shakes his head, laughing softly. "Yeah, this place must have some weird air conditioning or something." He takes another sip of the smoothie, brushing it off like nothing happened.

I let out a quiet breath, the tension in my chest easing. Crisis averted. For now.

Jack finishes his smoothie, wiping his mouth with a napkin. He leans forward, his eyes meeting mine. "Thanks for hanging out today. I know things have been... kinda weird."

I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone. "Yeah... it was nice." I smile slightly. "I needed a break."

He smiles back, and for a moment, there's an unspoken understanding between us. He doesn't push for more, doesn't ask why I've been so closed off. He just... lets it be.

"Well," Jack says, standing up and stretching, "next time we come here, you'll have to actually get something. You're missing out."

I laugh softly, shaking my head. "Maybe."

As we leave the arcade and head toward the parking lot, I can't help but steal another glance at Jack. There's something shifting between us, something I can't quite name. I don't know if he feels it too, but the way he looks at me sometimes... it makes me wonder.

But for now, I push those thoughts aside. Baby steps.

As I step into his car, my heart feels lighter than it has in a long time, even though I know the weight of my secret is still there, looming. Jack doesn't know—he can't know—but there's something about his presence that makes me feel like, for a little while, I don't have to carry everything alone.

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A/N: Awh, we needed a little break from the emotions right now. I had to keep it light. Hehe! Please comment, vote, and feedback will be nice as well too.