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**Part 1 — After the Rain**
**1**
By Monday, the rain had stopped, but Lena hadn't.
She kept replaying Friday's moment—Jace, the umbrella, the words she hadn't expected to hear out loud. *"I like you, Lena."* It had slipped out of him so naturally. Not dramatic. Not like in the movies. Just… honest. Raw. Real.
It scared her more than anything.
Not because she didn't believe him. She did. But believing meant it mattered—and if it mattered, it could hurt.
Now, with blue skies above and nothing left to hide behind, Lena wasn't sure what to do with what had been said. The weekend had felt like limbo. She didn't text him. He didn't text her. And still, he'd somehow been on her mind constantly.
*What if it was a moment, and nothing more?*
*What if it changed everything, and not in a good way?*
The school bell rang and she stepped into homeroom, half-expecting him to avoid her. But he didn't.
Jace was already there, sitting in the seat behind hers. As she passed him, he met her eyes. Just for a second. Just long enough to give her a look that said, *Still here. Still mean it.*
She sat down slowly.
"You okay?" he asked, just above a whisper.
"I don't know," she said.
"Want to talk later?"
Lena hesitated. Then nodded.
He nodded back. And that was it.
It was small. It was quiet. It was everything.
**2**
They met under the bleachers after sixth period. It wasn't planned. It just happened. A look in the hallway, a half-nod, and then they were there—sitting on the cracked concrete with the echoes of the gym bouncing faintly overhead.
Jace had his hoodie pulled halfway over his head. Lena sat with her arms wrapped around her knees.
"You weren't avoiding me," she said, more statement than question.
"I wasn't sure if *you* were," he said.
"I wasn't. I was just… thinking."
He nodded, as if he understood that too well.
"I don't usually say things like that," he added. "The whole liking-you-out-loud thing."
Lena smiled faintly. "You did pretty okay."
"I meant it."
"I know."
They sat in silence for a while. A comfortable one. The kind you could only earn after wading through months of friction and misunderstandings.
"You scare me sometimes," she said finally.
Jace blinked. "What?"
"Not in a bad way. Just… you're hard to predict. You say things I don't expect. You look at me like you know something I haven't figured out yet."
He tilted his head. "Maybe I do."
"Like what?"
He paused, then leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Like the way you always pretend you're fine when you're not. The way your fingers twitch when you're overthinking. The way you call me annoying but your voice softens on the '-ing.'"
Lena stared at him. "You notice all that?"
"Of course I do. You're hard not to notice."
She felt her heart twist a little. Not in a painful way. Just enough to remind her it was still capable of surprises.
**3**
By the time the final bell rang, Lena didn't want to go home. The house felt like too much space, too many thoughts.
So she followed Jace.
He led her to a corner of the neighborhood she'd never explored before—a park tucked behind a row of apartment buildings, with a rusting swing set and a crooked picnic table.
"This was my thinking spot when I was a kid," he said, dropping onto the table. "No one ever comes here."
Lena sat across from him. "And now you bring your *archnemesis* here?"
He smirked. "We've upgraded, haven't we?"
"Maybe."
They watched the sun drift lower, casting long shadows over the playground. A few birds fluttered through the trees. Somewhere far off, a dog barked.
"I'm not used to this," Jace said after a while.
"To what?"
"Letting someone in."
Lena picked at the edge of the table. "Me neither."
"I always figured if I just stayed a little distant, people wouldn't expect anything. Wouldn't be disappointed."
"Disappointed in what?"
"In me," he said. "I'm not exactly an easy person."
She looked at him carefully. "You're not. But you're worth it."
The wind rustled a leaf loose from the nearest tree. It spun once before landing on the ground between them.
"Sometimes I think you see more of me than I want you to," Jace admitted. "And other times… I think maybe I want you to see it."
Lena smiled softly. "Then maybe we're both not as scared as we thought."
He reached across the table, fingers brushing hers. It was barely a touch—but it was real. And it lingered.
**4**
They started walking home as the light faded. Side by side, not touching, not rushing. Just there.
Halfway down the street, Lena slowed.
"What happens now?" she asked.
Jace gave a small, thoughtful shrug. "We figure it out."
"Is it weird that I don't want to rush it?"
"Not at all."
"I still want to take it slow," she said. "Still want to keep my space when I need it. Still want to be me."
"Good," he said. "Because that's exactly who I want to be around."
She stopped walking and looked at him, really looked.
"You're kind of ruining the whole broody bad-boy thing, you know."
He smirked. "Don't tell anyone."
She laughed. "Your secret's safe."
They reached her house a few minutes later. The porch light was on. Her mom's car sat in the driveway.
Lena turned to him at the bottom of the steps.
"Thanks for walking with me," she said.
"Thanks for letting me."
Neither of them moved for a moment.
Then, without thinking, Lena reached forward and hugged him.
It wasn't long. It wasn't dramatic.
But Jace held her like it was something he'd been waiting to do for a long time.
And she let him.
---
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**Part 2 — Unspoken Things**
**1**
Tuesday morning arrived too fast.
Lena had expected to wake up with a clear head, some kind of closure after yesterday's heart-to-heart with Jace. But instead, everything felt *louder*. Her room. The street. Her own breathing.
Maybe it was because something between them had shifted—and once it does, you can't unshift it.
At school, things looked the same on the surface. The same lockers. Same slamming doors. Same groups clustered in the hallways. But Lena felt the difference in every step.
Especially when she saw him.
Jace was standing by the water fountain, hoodie sleeves rolled up, one hand lazily stuffed into his pocket. He was talking to someone—Maya, from AP Chem—and for a second Lena's stomach twisted with something stupid and sharp.
*Get it together,* she told herself. *You're not dating. You said slow. You meant it.*
And she had. But it didn't stop the knot from tightening.
He caught her eye as she passed. His expression didn't change much—just the flicker of something quiet and familiar. Like a secret only they shared.
And then he said, "Hey."
She turned. "Hey."
His tone was easy, his body language calm. And yet, Lena felt a thousand words hang in the space between that simple exchange. Unspoken things. Complicated things.
"You good?" he asked.
"Yeah," she replied. "You?"
"Always."
She nodded, then turned and kept walking—half-hoping he'd follow, half-hoping he wouldn't.
**2**
Later, in the library, Lena found herself watching the rain smear against the windows again. The skies had darkened without warning, casting everything in that gray-tinted melancholy she knew too well.
Across the table, Nora was scribbling notes for their group English project, barely looking up.
"So," Nora said finally, voice casual, "you and Rivera aren't biting each other's heads off this week. Should I be worried?"
Lena didn't look away from the window. "No biting. Just talking."
"Mm-hmm." Nora tapped her pencil twice. "That's how it starts."
"How what starts?"
"Feelings. Confessions. Bad poetry."
Lena snorted. "Please. Jace doesn't do poetry."
"You sure?" Nora smirked. "That boy's got tragic-soulmate energy written all over him."
"More like tragic-video-game-energy."
"Same thing, these days."
Lena didn't answer. But her smile lingered longer than it should've.
**3**
Gym class was chaos as always—basketballs bouncing everywhere, Coach Ramirez yelling across the echoing court like it was a warzone. Lena tried to keep her head down, but her eyes kept flicking across the gym.
Jace was on the other side, surrounded by his usual crew—Ryan, Marco, the tall kid with the sarcastic eyebrows. But he wasn't laughing like the others. He kept glancing her way, the way someone might glance at a lighthouse through fog.
At one point, they locked eyes. Not long. Just long enough.
And suddenly, Lena missed Friday's rain. She missed the umbrella. The warmth. The closeness.
Back then, it had felt like their own little world.
Now, it was like that world had cracks. Not dangerous ones. Just… real ones. The kind that made you wonder how long it would hold.
**4**
By the time the final bell rang, Lena's nerves were frayed in that specific way only unspoken feelings could cause.
She was packing up her bag at her locker when she felt a presence beside her. Not loud. Just there.
"Walk home?" Jace asked.
She didn't look up right away. "You sure?"
"Yeah."
They walked mostly in silence, the kind filled with thoughts neither of them knew how to say. The air was damp again, smelling of wet pavement and spring rot.
Halfway down the block, Lena spoke. "I saw you talking to Maya this morning."
Jace blinked. "Yeah. Why?"
"No reason."
A pause.
"Okay," he said slowly. "But... it kind of sounded like a reason."
Lena bit the inside of her cheek. "Just didn't know you two were friends."
"We're not. She asked about the chem homework. That's it."
Lena nodded. "Got it."
They kept walking. The silence grew heavier.
"You can ask me stuff, you know," Jace said eventually. "If something's bothering you."
"It's not that," she lied.
He stopped walking. "Lena."
She stopped too.
"It's not jealousy," she said quickly. "It's just... I don't know what this is. Us. Or if it even *is* an 'us.'"
He took a step closer. "It doesn't have to be defined right now."
"But don't you want it to be?"
"I want *you*. Whether it's friends or... something more. I want what's real."
Lena stared at him, heart pounding.
"This is real," she said.
"I know."
And then, without thinking, she reached for his hand. Not dramatically. Not like in movies. Just enough to say *I'm here*.
He laced his fingers through hers.
And they kept walking.
**5**
That night, Lena sat on her bed replaying the moment again and again—Jace's hand in hers, the weight of it, the way he didn't squeeze too tight, didn't let go.
Her phone buzzed. A text from him.
> You okay?
She replied after a moment.
> Yeah. Are you?
> Getting there.
> Good.
A pause.
> Thanks for not freaking out, he wrote.
> I did. Internally.
> Same.
She smiled, holding the phone to her chest for a second before typing again.
> So what happens now?
> We figure it out.
She paused. Then:
> Slowly.
> Slowly.
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