The hallway buzzed with tension before I even knew why. Whispers flew past me like bees in a swarm, urgent and unrelenting.
"There's a fight—"
"Nick's losing it again."
"He went after Liam Hunter this time."
"No way, not Zara's Liam!"
My stomach dropped.
I took off running.
By the time I got to the quad, the circle of students had already closed in around the chaos like a twisted audience. Phones were up. Cheers and gasps erupted as if this were entertainment. I didn't wait. I shoved through them, elbow-first.
And then I saw it.
Nick—my stepbrother—was on top of Liam Hunter, his fist flying. Blood dripped from Liam's lip. His shirt was stretched at the collar, his cheek already purpling from the blows.
Liam wasn't fighting back.
"Nick!" I screamed, panic clawing at my chest. "Get off of him!"
He didn't even flinch. His rage had swallowed him whole.
I lunged forward, using every ounce of force in me to pull him off. "Are you insane!?"
Nick stumbled back, breathing like a wild animal, his eyes flashing. Liam coughed, sitting up slowly, wiping blood from his mouth as he blinked at me. Calm. Almost detached. And something about his silence made me angrier than anything else.
"What are you doing?" I snapped at Nick.
"He deserved it," he growled. "Ask Kaylee."
I blinked. "What?"
"She heard them," Nick continued, his voice rising with the crowd. "Beatrice. Liam. All of them. Laughing about you. About the plan to break your heart."
The world tilted.
I turned—and sure enough, Kaylee stood nearby, her expression pale, her hands trembling at her sides.
"You told him?" My voice was hollow.
"Zara, I—" she took a step forward, "I tried to warn you. You didn't want to listen."
"So you ran to Nick? My stepbrother?"
Kaylee hesitated. "He needed to know. He—"
I held up a hand, cutting her off. "No. You don't get to justify this. You betrayed me."
Her eyes shone with tears. "You don't understand—"
"Oh, I do," I said, voice bitter. "You've never liked when someone else was in the spotlight. Especially not me."
"That's not fair—"
"And you," I turned back to Nick, my anger bubbling over, "who gave you the right to attack him? I didn't ask for your help. I don't need your protection."
Nick's jaw clenched. "He's using you. Kaylee heard it. The whole thing's a game."
I took a deep breath, feeling every eye in that crowd press against me.
And then I turned to Liam.
His face was cut and bruised. His lips stained red. But his eyes…
His eyes were on me. Quiet. Steady.
"Is it true?" I asked, so low I wasn't sure anyone but him could hear.
"No," he said instantly. "I swear, Zara, I would never—"
He didn't plead. He didn't over-explain. He just met my gaze, honest and unwavering.
And in that moment, I made my choice.
I stepped away from Nick. From Kaylee. From the whole damn circle of chaos.
And I reached for Liam's hand.
A hush fell.
"What are you doing?" Nick's voice cracked. "You're seriously going with him?"
I didn't answer.
Kaylee choked on my name. "Zara—please."
But I was done listening.
I helped Liam to his feet. He winced, but squeezed my hand back, as if to say thank you, without needing words.
And then, together, we walked away.
The students parted like water. Whispers flared behind us, but I didn't care. Not anymore.
For the first time in weeks, I felt clarity. Maybe I was making a mistake. Maybe I'd regret this.
But the thing was—I needed to find out for myself.
Even if it meant falling harder than I'd ever fallen before.
I didn't speak a word until we were far enough from the crowd that the noise disappeared. Far enough that it was just the sound of our steps, the wind brushing through trees, and Liam's soft, uneven breaths beside me.
He didn't let go of my hand the entire way.
His grip wasn't tight, but it was steady—like he needed to make sure I wouldn't slip away. Like maybe, after everything, he wasn't sure he deserved to hold it anymore.
I brought him to Kaylee's car—technically mine now, since I hadn't fully moved back home—and drove in silence to the only place that felt neutral. My dad's lake house. The one no one ever used anymore. The air was crisp with spring, and the world outside looked peaceful in a way I wasn't.
When we got there, I opened the door and gestured for him to sit on the edge of the couch while I grabbed the first aid kit.
Still, no one spoke.
I crouched in front of him and opened the kit. My fingers trembled a little as I dabbed the antiseptic on a cotton pad and reached for his jaw. He winced as I pressed it gently to the corner of his lip.
"You didn't fight back," I finally said.
He looked at me, those honey-brown eyes softer than I'd ever seen. "I couldn't. He's your brother."
"He's not my anything," I muttered, trying not to let my hand shake.
"You don't believe what he said?" Liam asked, quieter this time. "Or what Kaylee said?"
I paused, then met his gaze. "I don't know what I believe. But I know how you look at me. I know how you touch me. And I know it doesn't feel fake."
He swallowed hard.
I leaned closer, gently cleaning the cut near his temple. "You could've said something back there. Told everyone it wasn't true."
"And would it have mattered?" he asked bitterly. "The minute Kaylee spoke, the whole crowd decided I was the villain. No one was going to listen."
"I would've," I whispered.
He stared at me. "You did."
I nodded, then sat back on my heels. "I don't know if that makes me stupid or just… hopeful."
Liam reached out and touched my wrist, slow and cautious, like I was something fragile.
"You're not stupid, Zara. You're the smartest, strongest girl I've ever met. And I—I'm sorry you had to be the one caught in all this."
There was something in his voice. Not guilt. Not even fear.
Just regret.
I reached for a bandage and pressed it over his cut, then stared at it like it held all the answers.
"Today was a lot," I murmured.
He gave a dry laugh. "Understatement of the year."
"Why didn't you say anything to defend yourself? Not just to Nick. To me. To Kaylee. To the others."
His lips parted, and then he shut his eyes like he was gathering courage.
"Because I knew it wouldn't matter what I said. Not until I could show you who I really am. And… part of me was afraid. Afraid that even if I said all the right things, you wouldn't choose me."
"You don't get to decide for me," I said softly. "You never get to do that."
"I know," he nodded. "I'm done letting other people decide things for me too."
We sat there in silence for a few seconds, the tension between us stretching but not snapping.
"Liam?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"I meant what I said… back there. I chose you."
He let out a breath that sounded like it had been waiting days to escape. "Even after everything?"
I looked at him, really looked at him—the bruises, the blood, the vulnerability etched across his features.
"Especially after everything," I replied.
His eyes dropped to my lips for a second. "Zara…"
I leaned in slowly, deliberately, until our foreheads touched. "What?"
"If you don't want me to kiss you again, stop me now."
I didn't move.
He tilted his head and brushed his mouth against mine, gentle and soft—so different from the fire of our first kiss. This was slower. More certain. Like he wasn't just claiming something, but offering it too.
And I kissed him back, this time without hesitation. Without fear.
Because no matter what the world thought, this was real. This—whatever we were—was ours.
When we pulled apart, I rested my forehead against his and smiled for the first time all day.
"You're lucky you're cute when you bleed," I whispered.
He laughed, and it cracked open something in me. Maybe hope. Maybe healing.
But whatever it was, it felt like the start of something good.
Something real.