Aria's POV

Jack picked me up from my house just as my parents were getting ready for their date. They didn't even notice I'd left. Through the window, I saw them in the kitchen, laughing like they were still in the honeymoon phase. Their love for each other was easy, natural—something that hadn't included me for a long time. Not that I was jealous. Okay, maybe a little. It was just... it would've been nice to feel even a fraction of that love directed toward me.

I wasn't asking for much—just one moment where my mom would sit with me, let me gush about Jack, and maybe give me advice on navigating my first boyfriend. It didn't have to be some grand heart-to-heart, just... something. A sign she still cared about the parts of my life that mattered to me. It would've been nice to feel noticed for something more than whether I'd met their expectations.

But no. Their attention was always buried in work, and when they did acknowledge me, it was to ask if the house was clean or if my chores were done. It felt like a modern-day retelling of Cinderella, except I didn't have evil stepsisters—just parents who barely saw me. A kid who once craved their love but now stood here, quietly disappointed that it never came.

And the worst part? I stopped asking for it. Somewhere along the way, I decided it was easier not to expect anything at all.

Later, I perched on Jack's kitchen island, scrolling through my phone as he stood at the counter, watching the popcorn bag spin slowly in the microwave. A smirk tugged at my lips as I snapped a few candid photos of him—the messy hair, the way his brow furrowed in concentration. Little moments like these felt worth capturing, even if just for me.

Without second-guessing, I opened Instagram. For the first time, I switched my profile from private to public. I uploaded one of the photos to my story, tagging Jack. His laid-back, "in-the-moment" vibe was too perfect not to share.

Seconds later, his phone buzzed on the counter. Jack glanced down at the notification, then back at me, narrowing his eyes like he'd just discovered some great conspiracy. "Huh... This is new. Your Instagram's public, babe. Public."

I grinned, not even bothering to deny it. "Yeah, just made it public. Surprise."

A flicker of pride danced in his eyes as his smile softened. "So, you're finally getting comfortable with me, huh?"

Heat rushed to my cheeks, but I tried to play it cool. "It's just... I got sick of all the damn notifications. Everyone at school kept blowing up my phone with follow requests. Figured I might as well let them in and be done with it."

Jack tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Bullshit, babe," he teased. "Admit it—you wanted to show me off." His smirk deepened. "I mean, I was your only follower before. What changed?"

He leaned in, not giving me a chance to answer. "'Oh no, Jack, I'm not ready! My bubble's too comfy! I'm way too pretty to show off my outfits!'" he mocked, laying it on thick with a terrible imitation of my voice.

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh. "I so do not sound like that, and you know it."

Jack chuckled, pulling the popcorn from the microwave. "You sound exactly like that."

"Okay... maybe a little," I admitted, heat spreading to my neck. "But with us being together, it felt like the right step. I mean, I stood up to Brooke. And now I'm dating you—some cocky-ass quarterback. Might as well make it official. Let people know you're mine."

Jack's grin spread slow and wide, like I'd just made his whole night. "Fuck, babe. That's what I like to hear—claim what's yours." There was a soft pride in his voice, tucked beneath the playful edge.

I gave a small shrug, trying to play it cool even though my heart was racing. "Probably shouldn't have said that out loud... Your ego doesn't need any more boosting."

Jack leaned in, brushing a kiss against my temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a warm shiver down my spine. "Too late now, pumpkin girl."

Despite myself, I smiled. With Jack, being bold didn't feel scary. It felt... right.

He held my gaze for a moment, and in that silence, something deeper passed between us—an understanding, a kind of acceptance that didn't need words. Jack didn't push. He didn't rush me. He was just... there. Steady and solid, like he always was.

Even on the days when the old urge to disappear crept in, Jack was there to remind me—without needing to say it—that it was okay to grow, to let people see me.

Bit by bit, I was learning to let go of the walls I'd built. And Jack? He didn't just tell me how to grow—he showed me, one step at a time, just by being there.

And for the first time in forever, it felt damn good to be seen even if my parents don't give a fuck about me and not see me with their own child.

Jack popped the bag open, releasing a cloud of warm, buttery scent that filled the kitchen. He poured the popcorn into a bowl, his gaze lingering on me a second longer than usual. As I am still perched on the kitchen island counter, he slid closer, wrapping an arm around my waist with the easy familiarity we'd grown into. I glanced at my phone again, scrolling through messages, and Jack leaned in, his chin brushing my shoulder as he peeked at the screen with me.

"Still nothing from Eli?" he murmured, his voice low, as if speaking it aloud might change the outcome.

I shook my head, frowning at the still-unread message glaring back at me. "Nope. It's weird. I thought he'd at least say something by now."

Jack's arm stayed snug around my waist, grounding me in that way he always did. But I could feel the tension in his grip—subtle, but there. "Yeah... Eli not replying? That's off," he said, trying to keep his tone light, though a flicker of unease slipped through. "He's usually all over you when it's about me, making sure I don't screw things up."

I smiled faintly at the thought—Eli, always quick with a comeback, always teasing me and Jack, making sure we were good. But tonight, that version of Eli felt distant, like he was slipping away without a word. I tapped my phone again, hoping for a response, but the screen stayed frustratingly silent.

"Maybe he's just having one of those days," I offered, though the words felt thin, like I was trying to convince myself more than Jack.

Jack's brows knit together slightly, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles along my waist. "Or maybe something's going on, and he's not saying shit about it." His jaw tightened for a second before he let out a measured breath, the tension easing just a little as he gave me a small shake of his head. "But let's not stress over him right now. Brent'll be here soon."

His words were steady, meant to ground me, but the unease didn't completely lift. Something gnawed at me—a feeling that whatever was going on with Eli was bigger than just a bad day. But Jack's hand stayed firm at my side, and his presence tugged me back into the moment, reminding me to let go, if only for now.

I offered him a small, grateful smile. "Yeah, okay. One thing at a time."

Jack's lips curled into a slow grin, a flicker of relief in his eyes. "Exactly, pumpkin girl. We've got popcorn, Brent's on his way, and you're stuck with me for the night. Sounds like a good deal to me."

I let out a light laugh, leaning into his side as the weight of everything else eased, if only for now.

The doorbell rang, pulling me from my thoughts as Jack headed toward the door. I hopped down from the island counter just as Brent walked in, arms full of snacks. His usual grin was in place, but I caught the exhaustion beneath it—the kind you have to know someone well enough to see. Jack noticed too; the flicker of something unreadable crossed his face, like he knew exactly what Brent was hiding but wasn't going to say a word.

"Alright, here for movie night. I'll be your official third wheel, not that I mind." Brent flashed us a lopsided smile as he dropped the snacks on the counter. "Where's Eli?"

Jack shrugged, slipping his arm around my waist and pressing a kiss to my temple. "He's not coming, dude. Looks like you're stuck with us lovebirds."

Brent rolled his eyes but gave a small chuckle. "Of course he's not. I just ran into him at the store, asked if he was coming. He said maybe."

At the mention of Eli, my chest tightened, and my body stiffened before I could stop it. Jack's hand on my waist gave a reassuring squeeze, sensing the shift in me instantly. His gaze flicked toward my face, catching the flicker of hurt I tried to hide—hurt that Eli hadn't bothered to reply to my message. I swallowed it down quickly. Jack was right; Eli wasn't my responsibility. If he didn't want to show up, that was on him.

"Come on," I said, brushing it off with a forced smile, determined to push the unease away. "Let's go watch a movie."

I made my way toward the loveseat, feeling Jack's steady presence beside me, though I noticed the brief glance he exchanged with Brent—silent, understanding, something shared that I wasn't a part of. It bugged me, but I shoved it down. Brent looked tired, and whatever was going on with Eli was clearly tangled up in things neither of them were ready to talk about.

We settled in the living room, the warmth of Jack's arm draped over my shoulders grounding me as Brent threw himself onto the other end of the couch with a dramatic sigh. The flicker of tension from earlier was still there, but for now, we let it hang in the background, unspoken, as the movie's opening credits rolled across the screen.

We sprawled across the couch, the flicker of the movie casting shifting shadows across the room. Brent slouched at one end, lazily tossing chips into his mouth, while I lay with my head resting on Jack's lap. His fingers combed gently through my hair in soothing, absentminded strokes, grounding me with every touch.

And somehow, it was exactly what I needed.

It wasn't just comforting—it was a kind of love I hadn't realized I was craving. Jack's touch was steady, calming, and without condition. I couldn't remember the last time someone made me feel this way—like I mattered, just for existing. It hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

A knot tightened in my throat, and I swallowed it down, blinking fast. I thought back to when I was little, before everything with my parents shifted. My mom used to sit beside me at night, running her fingers through my hair as she read me stories about princes and princesses. Back then, it felt like love, like I belonged somewhere. But that memory was a distant, hazy thing now—so far away it almost felt like it belonged to someone else.

Jack's hand continued its slow rhythm, easing me into the present, and I leaned into him, letting the ache in my chest soften just a little. No, he wasn't my parents—but right now, I feel the calming moment from him.

Brent broke the quiet with a loud crunch, tossing a chip at the screen like it was part of some grand critique. "This movie's bullshit," he muttered. "Can't believe we picked this over literally anything else."

Jack chuckled, the sound rumbling under my cheek as I pressed against him. "Quit bitching. You love hanging out with us."

Brent snorted, brushing crumbs off his hoodie. "Yeah, yeah. Hanging out with the lovebirds." He threw a chip at Jack, smirking. "You two are so fucking cute, it's disgusting."

Jack grinned, tilting his head down to look at me, his hand never leaving my hair. "You hear that, pumpkin girl? We're disgusting."

I rolled my eyes, a small laugh escaping. "We're goals, obviously. He's just jealous."

Brent scoffed dramatically. "Please. If being 'goals' means being all lovey-dovey, I'll pass. I'd rather third-wheel and die alone, thanks."

Jack threw a chip back at him. "You're full of shit, man."

Brent grinned, catching the chip midair. But just for a second, the grin faltered. It was quick—so quick I almost missed it—but I saw the exhaustion creep into his eyes before he could hide it again.

Jack noticed too. His hand stilled on my head for a beat before resuming, just as gentle, but with a little more weight. Like he was saying, I've got you—not just to me, but to Brent, too.

Brent gave a quick shrug, covering whatever moment of vulnerability had slipped through. "All right, enough of this romantic bullshit. If there's another kiss scene, I swear I'm walking out."

Jack chuckled again, pressing a kiss to my temple, just to annoy him. "Guess you better start walking, then."

"Fuck off." Brent tossed another chip at Jack, but there was no real bite to it.

I tucked myself deeper into Jack's side, warmth spreading through me. Even with all the unanswered questions—Eli's distance, Brent's exhaustion, the looming weight of things left unsaid—this moment was ours. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't easy. But it was real.

I was drifting, half-asleep on Jack's lap, lulled by the low hum of Titanic playing in the background. Brent had insisted on watching it, grinning like an idiot as he compared me and Jack to Jack and Rose. The irony wasn't lost on any of us, least of all Jack, who rolled his eyes hard enough to strain something.

We weren't even halfway through the movie, and my eyelids grew heavier with every stroke of Jack's hand through my hair. His touch was soothing, steady, like waves gently lapping against the shore. Brent mumbled comments at the screen now and then, but it was easy to tune him out, the warmth of the room pulling me under.

I let my eyes close, deciding to ride the edge between wakefulness and sleep. Just a moment of peace. At least, that was the plan—until I heard Brent whisper, "You think she's out?"

Jack's voice was low, careful not to disturb me. "Yeah, I think she is."

"Good."

I stayed still, pretending to be asleep, curiosity prickling at the edges of my mind. I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but something in their tone made me keep still my breath shallow as I listened.

"Your mom holding up?" Jack asked, his voice quieter now, the usual edge of sarcasm replaced by something softer.

The silence that followed felt heavy, like the room itself was holding its breath.

Brent let out a tired exhale, the kind that carried too much weight for someone our age. "She's... still there. Still with him."

Jack's hand stilled for a moment in my hair before resuming, slower this time, as if processing the words. "I'm sorry, man. I know you tried."

"Tried?" Brent huffed a bitter laugh, though it sounded more like defeat than humor. "I've told her a million times—this isn't love. But she just doesn't get it."

The exhaustion and frustration in his voice were unmistakable, and my heart twisted painfully at the thought of what he was carrying. I knew this conversation wasn't meant for me. Jack had probably kept this from me on purpose, not wanting me to pry into Brent's personal life. But here I was, pretending to sleep, overhearing every word.

"Look," Jack said quietly, "you can't force her to leave, man. I know it fucking sucks, but you gotta support her, even if it feels like shit. She'll come around when she's ready—or not. But it has to be her choice."

Brent didn't respond right away, and the silence that followed felt heavier than before.

"I just don't get it," Brent muttered eventually. "How the fuck do you watch someone you love to keep choosing the wrong person? It's like... she's just waiting to drown."

Jack's voice softened even more, barely above a whisper. "I get it, dude. I do."

The rawness in his tone made something crack inside me. Jack always carried everyone else's burdens without complaint, and now Brent's too.

A wave of guilt rolled through me for listening in—this wasn't something I was supposed to know. But at the same time, knowing this about Brent, hearing the frustration and helplessness in his voice, made it hard to push the knowledge aside. Maybe that's why Jack kept it to himself—some things weren't mine to fix.

I shifted slightly, making my breathing slow and even, finally letting myself drift off for real. I'd keep their secret—at least for now. Jack's steady hand in my hair, the low murmur of the movie, and the weight of everything unspoken pulled me under, and this time, I let sleep take me.

I stretched, feeling the blanket that had somehow found its way over me as I dozed off. When I blinked awake, the movie was over, and Jack and Brent were playing cards across the room. Jack smirked when he noticed me stirring, eyes twinkling with that mischievous glint he always had when he was ready to tease.

"Good morning, princess," he drawled, though the night had long since fallen. His voice was teasing but warm, and I could feel the heat bloom in my cheeks.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and shot him a mock glare, even though the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. "It's not morning, Jack."

He chuckled softly, clearly amused. "You're so damn adorable when you're half-asleep."

Brent snorted from the other side of the room, never missing a chance to rib us. "God, you two are disgusting." He shook his head with exaggerated exasperation. "I need a bucket."

Rolling my eyes at Brent's usual banter, I got up to use the bathroom, only for Jack to playfully smack my ass as I walked past. I shot him a playful glare over my shoulder, but my blush only deepened, especially hearing Jack's laugh follow me down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, I leaned against the sink, still a bit groggy. I washed my hands, not thinking much about it, until a familiar sensation swept through me. A wave of panic followed as I glanced down, seeing the scales ripple across my legs. Damn it—I'd forgotten. Water.

In my half-asleep state, I hadn't realized it, and now I was on the floor, my tail sprawled out, shining under the bathroom light. I groaned, head dropping back against the wall. Why did I always forget?

Before I could fully process it, the bathroom door creaked open, and Jack appeared in the doorway, his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in amusement. He leaned against the frame, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

"Well, well, looks like someone's still half-asleep," he teased, his voice filled with playful affection. "Need help, or you got this?"

I glared at him, though there was no real bite behind it. "I'm fine, Jack." I raised my hand, focusing for a second as the heat sparked in my palm, and I used my hydrothermokinesis to evaporate the water clinging to me. Within moments, I was dry, legs back to normal.

Jack's smirk softened into a grin as he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. "My girl, all cranky from her nap. Still cute, though."

Before I could respond, Brent's voice rang out from the living room, loud and dramatic. "If you two are hooking up in the bathroom, can you at least keep it down? No one needs to hear that!"

My face burned as I hid it against Jack's chest, his laugh vibrating through me as he pulled me close. "Come on," he murmured against my hair, chuckling softly. "Let's get back before Brent decides to break down the door."

The room had settled into quiet after Brent left, leaving me and Jack sprawled across the couch. The soft hum of the TV played in the background, but my thoughts were too loud to focus. Jack's arm rested around me, fingers trailing absent patterns along my shoulder, grounding me—but my mind refused to sit still.

I twisted my moon ring between my fingers, my gaze drifting down to the charm bracelet Jack had given me. Guilt gnawed at me, eating away at my thoughts. I knew I shouldn't have eavesdropped. Jack told me to let it go, to stop worrying about Brent's issues. But curiosity got the better of me. I hated being left in the dark, especially now that I was a part of their world—dating Jack, woven into the group dynamic that had already existed long before me.

Was it really so wrong to want to understand more about Brent? Or was it selfish?

"Jack?" I murmured, hesitating as I glanced up at him.

He hummed softly in response, his attention shifting from the screen to me. His gaze softened in that way it always did, like he knew whatever was coming might be hard for me to say but he was ready to hear it.

"I... overheard you and Brent earlier," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Shame twisted in my chest. "I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. I just— I don't know. I thought if I knew what was going on, maybe I could help."

Jack's hand paused mid-stroke through my hair, his jaw tightening before he let out a long, steady breath. "Aria..." His tone was firm but not harsh, threading through with care. "I get it. You care. That's one of the things I love about you." He paused, giving me just enough time to catch the 'but' hovering on the edge of his words.

"But," he continued, his voice steady but edged with seriousness, "not everything is yours to carry, babe. Brent's been my best friend for years. He doesn't let people in easily. The reason he's even okay hanging out with us? It's because he trusts me. If you go digging too deep, that trust can break. And Brent... he hates being pitied. That's why I've been telling you to let it go."

I pressed my lips together, chewing the inside of my cheek, that all-too-familiar knot of overthinking tightening in my gut. "I just... I hate feeling left out. And it feels like when you and Brent keep things between you, I'm on the outside looking in."

Jack leaned in closer, brushing his hand gently through my hair, his touch grounding me like always. "You've got this habit, pumpkin girl," he murmured, his thumb tracing a soft line along my temple. "You hold on too tight because you're scared. I know that. You're afraid people are gonna leave."

His words hit hard, like a wave crashing over me. He was right—of course he was. It was the same fear that had kept me hiding for so long, afraid of being truly seen. Now, I was scared of being forgotten... like I already was by my parents. And that fucking hurt.

Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I swallowed them down, hating how right he was. "I just don't want to screw this up," I whispered. "I guess I'm still figuring out how not to push people away... but also not hold on too tight."

Jack tilted my chin gently, making me meet his gaze. "Babe, you're not screwing anything up. You're figuring things out—and so are we. And yeah, dating me means navigating my friends too. But we'll do it together. One wave at a time."

A soft smile tugged at my lips, a flicker of warmth easing the knot in my chest. One wave at a time. That was our motto, wasn't it? And with Jack, it didn't feel so impossible. Bit by bit, I was learning how to stop hiding and trust—trust him, trust myself, and trust the people we were building around us.

Jack leaned in, pressing his forehead gently against mine, his breath warm and steady. "Now, I need you to drop it. I'm not telling Brent you overheard us, because trust me—he'd give me hell for it. But next time? Leave Brent to me, okay? I know him. I know his history, and I've got him. That's what best friends do. You and I? We'll focus on Eli. That asshole's being... well, an ass."

A tear slipped down my cheek, but I didn't bother wiping it away. I just nodded slowly, guilt pressing down on my chest. "Okay... I'm sorry."

Jack's hand brushed against my cheek, thumb wiping the tear away gently. "I know it's hard—navigating me, Brent, and the whole group thing. I get that it's new for you." His voice softened, sincere. "And, yeah... Eli was your friend first before he became part of the group. That's gotta make it more complicated, I know."

He kissed the top of my head, his lips lingering just long enough to make the knot in my chest loosen. "We've had a long night, pumpkin girl. Let's not make it harder."

A shaky laugh slipped from me, the weight on my heart lifting bit by bit. "Guess I'm not so great at these whole boundaries thing."

Jack chuckled, the sound low and familiar, like it was meant just for me. "That's what I'm here for. We'll figure it out, one wave at a time."

The knot of overthinking unraveled a little more, leaving space to breathe. With Jack beside me, it didn't feel so impossible. Maybe—just maybe—I could learn to let go without losing everything.

The next morning, I stood at my locker, phone in hand, staring at the message I'd sent Eli last night. The small "Delivered" sat mockingly under the text. No response. No explanation. Just... nothing.

I let out a frustrated sigh, shoving my phone into my pocket. Of course, he wasn't going to answer. Why would he?

Jack leaned against the locker beside mine, his phone in hand, typing out another message to Eli. His fingers moved with the same quiet frustration bubbling under my skin.

"It would be nice to know what he's up to," I muttered, slamming my locker door shut with more force than I intended. The metal clanged, sharp and loud, causing a few heads to turn in the hallway.

Jack arched a brow, glancing up. "Damn, babe. That's the first time I've actually seen you mad." His voice was serious but tinged with amusement, like he wasn't used to me losing my cool.

I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling hard. "It's just... Eli's my friend. Why is he acting like this? Did I do something wrong?" The knot in my chest tightened with each word, guilt gnawing at me.

Jack pushed off the locker and stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against mine—grounding me the way only he could. "Whoa, whoa—don't go there, babe. You didn't do anything wrong. Eli's being a dick, plain and simple. And not just to you—he's ghosting me and Brent too."

I opened my mouth to respond, but just then Brent shuffled toward us. His hoodie sagged on his frame, and his hair was an unkempt mess, like sleep had been more of a suggestion than a reality.

"Morning, lovebirds," Brent greeted us, trying to inject humor into his voice, though exhaustion clung to every word. "First movie night, now this. Guess Eli's on a roll with pissing everyone off, huh?"

Jack shook his head, slipping his phone into his back pocket. "No kidding. He's really trying to make sure none of us know what's going on."

Brent rubbed the back of his neck, his voice low and rough. "So, no replies for either of you, huh? Great. Dude's probably off somewhere being a dumbass, as usual."

"More like ghosting us like we're strangers," Jack muttered, a dry chuckle slipping from him, though it didn't reach his eyes.

I shifted on my feet, biting back the words buzzing under my skin. I wanted to tell Brent it was okay, that everything would work out with his mom—but Jack's subtle squeeze at the small of my back kept me quiet.

Jack leaned in close, his voice low against my ear. "Babe, not a good idea," he murmured. His breath was warm, his tone a gentle warning. "Brent's on edge. If you push, he'll snap—and I really don't want him snapping at my girl this early in the morning. Remember what we talked about? Let me handle it."

I gave a small nod, exhaling through the tightness in my chest. Jack knew his friends better than I did, and as much as I hated holding back, I trusted him.

Brent let out a tired laugh, though it was more air than sound. "Guess we're back to playing 'Where's Waldo?' with Eli. Love that for us."

Jack smirked, finally relaxing a bit. "Classic Eli."

The warning bell rang, breaking the moment. Jack nudged me gently with his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, babe. We'll figure this out. One wave at a time."

The familiar phrase eased the tension in my chest. I smiled softly. "One wave at a time," I echoed, feeling the knot loosen, if only a little.

Brent shot us both a glance, his smirk faint but present. "Even during movie night, Jack couldn't get enough of you, Aria." He winked at me, the mischief flickering back in his eyes for just a second. "Oh, and I saw someone made their Instagram public. That's new."

Heat flushed up my neck, and I fought to keep my expression neutral. Jack chuckled, sliding his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. "I know, right? That surprised me too."

Brent arched a brow, his tired grin widening. "Your girl's finally coming out of her shell, little by little. It looks good on you, Aria. And, by the way, seeing your outfits? You're definitely perfect for Jack."

My cheeks burned at the compliment, and Jack's low laugh rumbled beside me, warm and familiar.

"Yeah, she's perfect," Jack said, his arm tightening around my waist, the pride in his voice impossible to miss. "Even if her coffee addiction is a little... excessive."

Brent chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching despite the exhaustion lingering in his eyes. "Well, you're her exact opposite. Black coffee, no sugar, no cream—basically sludge. You're as plain as they come, man."

Jack tilted his head, shooting Brent a lazy smirk. "It's called refined taste. Simple is better."

I rolled my eyes, nudging Jack with my shoulder. "You mean boring."

Jack grinned down at me, the teasing glint in his eyes making my heart do a little flip. "Nah, just practical. Not all of us need sugar bombs to function, pumpkin girl."

Brent snorted, clearly amused. "Man, you two are something else. Opposites really do attract, huh?"

Jack leaned down, brushing his lips against my temple with a grin. "More like balance," he murmured.

Brent snorted, rolling his eyes, though the exhaustion was still clear in his expression. "You two are too cute. It's disgusting."

Jack shrugged, his grin easy. "Get used to it."

Brent gave us a playful salute and turned toward class, the weight of his exhaustion still visible in his steps, despite the humor.

Jack kept his arm snug around my waist as we followed, giving me those grounding touches that always made me feel steady. But even with him by my side, the unease lingered.

Eli's absence wasn't just him being stubborn or blowing us off. I could feel it deep in my bones—something was off, something bigger. And whatever it was, I had the sinking feeling we weren't ready for it.

Homeroom was dragging. I tapped my pen against the edge of my notebook, restless. Normally, I kept to myself, but today felt different—heavier. Brent had seemed off this morning, and Eli was still missing in action. My chest tightened with the nagging feeling that something was slipping out of control, and I hated not knowing what it was.

After homeroom ended, I slipped out of class, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jack or Brent between periods. It wasn't easy being in different grades—I only had English and science with Jack, and no classes with Brent. But I had to know if they'd heard anything new from Eli.

As I moved through the crowded hallway, the usual chaos of students surrounded me—lockers slamming, shoes squeaking, and laughter echoing off the walls. But my attention was pulled elsewhere, my mind racing. Rounding a corner, a snippet of conversation caught my ear.

"Did you hear about this new TikTok video?"

I slowed my pace, pretending to adjust the straps on my bag, tuning into the conversation. Two girls stood by their lockers, their voices low like they were swapping secrets meant for no one else to hear.

"Yeah," the first girl whispered. "There's this guy who's, like, obsessed with marine life. He swears he found a mermaid."

My heart stuttered. Mermaid? Oh no. That's definitely not good. Elara had warned me about people like this—mermaid hunters. And now they're all over TikTok?

The second girl leaned in, her voice dropping even lower. "Apparently, he's been making all these videos, trying to prove mermaids exist. People think he's gone crazy, but he's convinced."

A chill crawled down my spine, making it hard to breathe.

"You think anyone believes him?" the first girl asked, wide-eyed.

So, the new mermaid hunter is a guy. Elara hadn't told me that. I strained to hear more, my pulse racing.

Her friend scoffed. "Nah. Mermaids don't exist. That's just ridiculous."

I forced myself to keep walking, though my legs felt shaky. A mermaid hunter, posting videos on TikTok, trying to prove mermaids are real? This wasn't just gossip—it was too close to home, way too close to the secret I'd been working so hard to keep hidden. If this guy somehow caught something on camera, or if he kept digging... what would happen if I slipped up? If I got caught?

Balancing school and my secret life was already hard enough. But now? Now it felt impossible.

As I reached the intersection of the hallways, I spotted Jack making his way toward his next class. He looked up from his phone, frustration etched into his expression.

"Any word from Eli?" I asked, falling into step beside him.

Jack shook his head, tucking his phone back into his pocket with a sigh. "Nothing. He's still ghosting us."

I bit my lip, hesitating. Should I tell Jack what I'd overheard? Eli's disappearance, Brent's strange behavior, and now this mermaid hunter—it was all crashing down on me at once. And what if the new mermaid was connected to the hunter somehow? That couldn't be possible... could it?

"You okay?" Jack asked, his gaze softening when he noticed the tension on my face.

I nodded, though my mind raced. "Yeah... it just feels like something's off. I can't shake it."

Jack gave me a reassuring nudge, his shoulder brushing against mine. "We'll figure it out, pumpkin girl. One wave at a time."

"One wave at a time," I echoed, though the knot in my stomach stayed tight.

As Jack headed toward his class, I turned toward mine, but the weight of everything I'd overheard lingered like a storm cloud over me. Eli's absence, Brent's distraction, and now the mermaid hunter—it was all spiraling, and I felt like I was on the verge of losing control.

All I'd wanted was a normal sophomore year, something simple, something steady. But now, it felt like I was balancing on a tightrope, the ground shifting beneath me, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find my footing.

Lunch dragged, the minutes stretching painfully. It was just me, Jack, and Brent today—Eli's absence hanging over us like a dark cloud. Eli was always the one to stir things up, throwing jokes at Brent to get under his skin or teasing Jack and me until I blushed. Without him, the whole vibe was... off. Quiet. And not in a peaceful way.

I sat at the edge of the table, pushing my salad around with my fork, lost in thought. Jack and Brent were talking, but their voices felt distant, like background noise I couldn't focus on. I knew Jack had told me not to pry into Brent's business—that it was something Brent had to come to me about when he was ready. And I respected that, even if it was frustrating to sit on the sidelines.

I glanced at Brent, watching the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, his jokes landing just a little flat. He was trying—really trying—to keep it together, but the exhaustion weighed on him, heavy and unmissable. Every laugh felt forced, and even though he was still the same Brent on the surface, I could tell something deeper was eating away at him.

Jack kept an eye on me from across the table, his hand resting under mine, fingers curling lightly around my palm. He didn't say anything, but I could feel the silent question in his touch: You good? He knew me too well to be fooled—he always did. He'd get it out of me eventually, but for now, he didn't push.

Brent made some half-hearted joke, and Jack laughed along, but the sound felt muted, like even he couldn't shake the weight hanging between us. I wanted to help Brent—really help—but Jack's words from earlier echoed in my mind: Respect his space. Let him come to you when he's ready.

Still, it was hard to sit there and do nothing.

I was so deep in my thoughts that I barely noticed the change in Brent's drink. The steam rising from his cup was subtle at first, like a wisp of fog on a cold morning. But then it thickened, twisting into curls of heat that swirled above the rim.

Jack gave my hand a quick squeeze under the table, pulling me out of my daze. He tipped his chin toward Brent's cup, eyebrows raised in a way that said, Look.

I blinked and stared at the drink—now boiling, tiny bubbles dancing on the surface of the water.

Shit. I'd done that.

Jack shot me a pointed look, his expression sharp but not unkind. It was the look he gave me when I needed to snap out of it.

"We're talking," Jack said quietly, just loud enough for me to catch.

I swallowed, giving him a small nod, and with a quick breath, I focused, pulling the heat back. The boiling slowed, the bubbles shrinking until they disappeared entirely, leaving only a faint shimmer on the surface of Brent's water.

Brent hadn't noticed—he was too caught up in whatever story he was half-heartedly telling. I let out a silent breath of relief.

Jack didn't say anything more, but the way his hand stayed firmly wrapped around mine was grounding—reminding me that he had me, even when I slipped. I gave him a quick squeeze in return, a silent Thanks. I'm okay now.

Jack's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, his brow furrowing like he wanted to ask what was really going on. But he let it drop, at least for now. I knew we'd talk later—there was no avoiding that. Jack wasn't one to let things go, especially not with me.

As for Brent, he kept talking, throwing in a joke here and there, trying his best to be the Brent we all knew. But even though he laughed, even though he smiled—it didn't fool me. Not really.

And I knew Jack saw it too.

After school, Jack leaned against the locker next to mine, arms crossed, his usual smirk replaced with a steady, serious gaze. His body language told me what I already knew—there was no dodging this conversation.

"Okay, babe. Talk." His voice was calm but firm, a quiet nudge I couldn't ignore.

I shut my locker, the metal door clanging as I gathered my thoughts. "I overheard some girls talking about this TikTok video. Apparently, there's this guy who thinks he found a mermaid. He's... obsessed."

Jack's expression stayed neutral, but I saw the way his jaw tightened. "So that's what had you spacing out at lunch."

I nodded, the words bubbling to the surface before I could stop them. "It's just—babe, it's all too much. My thoughts are crashing in waves, and I can't keep up. Elara, this new mermaid, this freaking mermaid hunter..." I ran a hand through my hair, frustration slipping into my voice. "Eli's gone, Brent's off, and you're telling me to back off. I know you're right about giving him space, but it's killing me not to do something."

Jack listened, his face softening as I spoke. His silence made space for the storm inside me to spill out. "What am I even doing with my life?" I muttered, my voice cracking. "Why does everything feel like it's slipping away?"

I barely registered the moment Jack stepped forward and wrapped me in his arms. His chin rested lightly on top of my head, and I exhaled, my breath shuddering as the tension slowly leaked out.

"Okay, babe," Jack murmured, his voice low and steady as his hand rubbed soothing circles along my back. "Let's slow this down. One wave at a time, remember?"

I let my forehead rest against his chest, his warmth grounding me. Jack had this way of making the world feel a little less overwhelming, even when it was spinning out of control.

"When I said not to worry about Brent," Jack continued, his thumb brushing along my arm, "I didn't mean to shut you out. I just need you to trust me. Brent's my guy—I've got him. Let me take that one off your plate, okay?"

I gave a small nod, the knot in my chest loosening just enough to breathe.

"And the rest?" Jack tilted my chin gently, making me meet his gaze. "We'll figure it out together, but you've gotta stop overthinking, pumpkin girl." His lips twitched into a faint grin. "One step at a time. No more spirals."

I managed a small smile, the storm inside me quieting. "Okay."

Jack's grin widened, and before I could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed me—slow and deliberate. The warmth of his lips steadied me, his touch saying everything I needed to hear. My heart fluttered in response, the chaos in my mind retreating, if only for a moment.

When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with playful mischief. "Alright, peppermint girl. Let's get you that coffee."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Peppermint girl?"

"Yep." His smirk deepened, teasing. "That's your new nickname—permanent. No take-backs."

I rolled my eyes, though a laugh slipped out before I could stop it. "You're ridiculous."

Jack shrugged, slipping his hand into mine as we started walking toward the parking lot. "Maybe. But I'm your ridiculous plain-coffee guy."

And just like that, the knot in my chest eased a little more. Jack's fingers laced with mine, steady and sure, and for the first time in hours, the world felt just a little more manageable.

Maybe—just maybe—I could handle one wave at a time after all.

<>

A/N: I love their new motto. One wave at a time. It fits, right? Sorry, but you'll be hearing that throughout the story. Sorry not sorry! Vote, comment, and criticism is appreciated, but don't be disrespectful. I'm trying here as a writer, okay? Now, another bonus scene! Hope you like this one!

Bonus scene: Brent's POV 

I leaned against the back wall of the convenience store, phone in hand, scrolling through messages. Jack was still blowing up Eli's phone, and I was caught between caring too much and not giving a damn. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above gave me a headache. I rubbed my temple, trying to ignore the ache that was always there.

It was late, and I'd only stopped in to grab something—anything—to avoid going home just yet. My dad would be drunk by now, and my mom, if she wasn't working, would be cleaning up after him like she always did. I hated it. Hated that she wouldn't leave.

I grabbed a water bottle and headed toward the register when someone bumped into me—hard. I stumbled back a step, catching myself before I dropped the bottle.

"Watch it, muscles," a voice said, smooth and low, edged with playful sarcasm.

I looked up to see a girl standing in front of me, hands stuffed into the pockets of an oversized hoodie, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. She had this smirk—sharp and knowing, like she was already two steps ahead of everyone in the room.

"Muscles?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged, unbothered. "What else should I call you? Look at you." She made a vague gesture toward my chest and shoulders. "You're built like you lift heavy things for fun."

I gave her a once-over, trying to figure her out. She didn't look like the kind of girl who'd be wandering around convenience stores this late at night, but there she was—completely at ease, like she owned the place. There was something off about her, though. Something calculated, like every word out of her mouth was chosen with purpose.

"And you are?" I asked, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice. I wasn't in the mood for games.

She tilted her head, her smirk widening just a little. "Now, where's the fun in that? Why would I tell you?"

Great. One of those girls. I rolled my eyes, twisting the cap off my water bottle and taking a swig. "Whatever. Just stay out of my way."

Instead of taking the hint, she stepped closer, eyes glittering with amusement. "What's with the attitude, muscles? Long day?"

I clenched my jaw, annoyed but also... curious. She didn't look fazed by my irritation. Most people would've backed off by now, but not her. If anything, she seemed more interested.

"You could say that," I muttered, glancing toward the exit.

She leaned against the shelf beside me, completely unbothered by my attempt to end the conversation. "Let me guess. Something to do with family? Or maybe a girl?"

I shot her a sharp look. "What do you care?"

She shrugged again, her expression impossible to read. "I don't. I just like figuring people out."

"Yeah? Well, good luck with that." I shoved the water bottle into my jacket pocket, ready to leave.

But just as I turned to go, she said, "You know, if you want people to stop asking questions, maybe try looking less miserable."

I stopped, turning back to face her. "And maybe you should try minding your own business."

She grinned, and for a second, it felt like she was enjoying this way more than she should. "Touchy, aren't we? Lighten up, muscles. The world's already messed up enough without you adding to it."

There was something about her—something that felt familiar in a way I couldn't quite place. Like she carried her own weight, her own set of problems, but hid them behind sharp words and a sharper smile.

"Right. Well, good talk." I turned toward the door again, but her voice stopped me one last time.

"See you around, muscles."

I didn't bother looking back as I pushed the door open and stepped into the cold night air, but her voice lingered, wrapping around me like a puzzle I didn't have the patience to solve.

And as I walked down the empty street, I couldn't help but wonder who the hell she was—and why it felt like this wouldn't be the last time we crossed paths.