Chapter 12: The One I See
People always say that love feels like fireworks.
But sometimes, love feels like silence. Like standing next to someone and knowing they'd still reach for your hand, even if the whole world went quiet.
That's what it felt like with Jace.
Until she showed up.
Her name was Ciara. Bright red lipstick, loud laugh, and legs that looked like they belonged on a billboard.
She joined the basketball team as the new student manager. Just a "temporary position" while her transfer papers cleared, she said. But in three days, she'd managed to do two things:
Memorize the names of every guy on the team.
Laugh extra hard at every joke Jace made.
I watched it happen in slow motion.
She'd toss him towels during practice. Tie her ponytail a little slower when he passed by. Sit on the bleachers during breaks, twirling her lanyard and asking about his game stats.
And Jace?
He didn't flirt back. Not really.
But he didn't not smile either.
I didn't say anything at first.
Not when she followed him into the gym early one morning. Not when I caught her staring at him during water breaks like he was something she wanted to unwrap.
Instead, I folded in. Quietly. Like I used to.
I stopped waiting for him outside practice. Told Nina I was tired. Skipped rooftop lunch.
And every time Jace looked at me, I smiled a little less.
He noticed.
It took four days before he pulled me aside.
"Okay," he said. "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Elena."
"I said it's nothing."
He looked at me, hard. "Is this about Ciara?"
My silence was louder than anything I could've said.
He sighed. "You know I don't care about her, right?"
"I know. But she cares about you. A lot. And she's not subtle."
"I'm with you."
"Then why does it feel like I'm watching her try to replace me?"
He was quiet for a beat.
Then he said, "Come with me this weekend."
I blinked. "Where?"
"Just us. No school. No noise. Just... us."
Saturday morning, his driver took us out past the city.
Fields blurred by. The air smelled cleaner. And when we finally stopped, we were at a place I never expected:
An old, empty basketball court tucked behind an abandoned rec center. Cracks in the pavement. A broken hoop. Weeds curling through the fence.
But Jace smiled when he stepped out of the car.
"This was my first court," he said. "My grandpa brought me here when I was seven. Every weekend. Rain or shine."
I looked around. "Why does it feel like a secret?"
"Because I never told anyone about it. Not even my teammates."
He glanced at me.
"Until now."
We sat on the cracked bench near the half-court line.
He tossed a ball between his hands, not looking at me.
"You ever feel like everyone wants something from you?" he asked.
"All the time."
He nodded. "Ciara doesn't see me. Not really. She sees the trophies. The highlight reels. The title."
"And me?" I asked, soft.
He turned to me.
"You see the kid on a broken court with untied laces and no clue what he's doing."
My breath caught.
Then he added, "And you stayed anyway."
He stood, held out a hand.
"Dance with me."
"There's no music."
"Doesn't matter."
So I stood.
And we danced.
Slow. Awkward. Quiet.
His arms wrapped around me, and mine found his shoulders.
And right there, under a broken sky on a forgotten court, he whispered it.
"I love you."
No fanfare. No panic. Just truth.
"I love you, Elena."
I couldn't speak.
So I didn't.
Instead, I reached into my sketchbook and tore out a page.
A quick drawing I'd done in the car.
Him. Me. The court. The moment.
And above us, a crescent moon.
He took it with both hands like it was something holy.
Then he kissed me.
No crowd this time.
Just the wind.
And for once, I didn't feel like I had to fight for his attention.
Because I already had it.
All of it.