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**Part 1 — The Space Between**
**1**
There was a pause between days now—a stillness in the way Lena woke up, a second of blank nothing before her thoughts rushed in and reminded her: Jace.
That they'd held hands yesterday.
That they hadn't defined anything.
That it scared her how *okay* that felt.
Monday morning hit soft and gray, the kind of overcast that made the walls of her room feel closer. She stayed in bed longer than usual, scrolling through her texts—nothing new. Nothing from Jace. But that wasn't weird, she told herself. Not yet.
They were still figuring things out. Still not rushing.
Still—*something.*
By the time she reached school, the wind had picked up. The flag out front whipped hard against the pole. Lena walked through the front doors with her hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, headphones in, trying not to overthink everything.
Of course, that lasted five seconds.
Because there he was.
Jace Rivera, leaning against her locker.
Waiting.
She blinked, pulling out one earbud. "Uh. Morning?"
"Hey," he said, voice low. "Thought I'd catch you."
Her stomach did a full-on twist. "You *caught* me. Congratulations."
He smirked. "Do I win a prize?"
She rolled her eyes, though her heart was a mess. "You get to not be shoved into a locker."
"I'll take it."
The banter was familiar, safe. But underneath, Lena could feel the difference—the hesitation. Like they were both trying to pretend that nothing had changed, while silently admitting that *everything* had.
Jace opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, then shut it. Instead, he handed her a folded piece of paper.
"What's this?"
"Chem notes. From last week. You zoned out, remember?"
"Oh," she said, caught off-guard. "Thanks."
Their hands brushed during the handoff, and for one fleeting second, the hallway felt too quiet.
"Anyway," he said. "See you in second period."
She watched him walk off before exhaling.
It was going to be one of those days.
**2**
In second period, Lena kept replaying that tiny moment. The paper. His fingers brushing hers. His eyes not quite meeting hers when he turned away.
Their teacher, Mrs. Farrell, was going on about chemical equations, but the only thing Lena could balance was the way her chest kept tightening.
Across the room, Jace wasn't even pretending to take notes. His pencil spun in lazy circles, but his gaze flicked to her—just once. Quick. As if he didn't want to be caught.
And yet, she caught him anyway.
After class, they both lingered. Not *together*, but not apart either.
"You want to work on the group project after school?" he asked, adjusting his bag strap.
"I thought you hated group work."
"I hate bad groups. You're tolerable."
"Wow," she deadpanned. "Such high praise."
He smiled. "You in or not?"
She hesitated. "Sure. My place okay?"
"Yeah."
Then he added, "I'll bring snacks. I know how dangerous you get when you're hungry."
She shook her head but didn't stop smiling as she walked away.
**3**
At home, Lena cleaned her room twice. Not because it was messy, but because having Jace Rivera in her space felt like a completely different thing now.
It wasn't just school project Jace.
It was post-hand-holding, post-silent-promise Jace.
And that changed everything.
By the time the doorbell rang, she'd already lit a candle (and quickly blew it out because *what are you, weird?*) and rearranged the pillows on her bed four times.
She opened the door and nearly lost her voice.
Because there he stood, backpack slung over one shoulder, holding a bag of kettle chips and a can of Arizona iced tea like some tragic millennial offering.
"You survived the bus," she said.
"Barely. There was a kid sneezing on the window like it owed him money."
She laughed and stepped aside to let him in.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the house felt smaller. Not claustrophobic, just... full. Charged.
They headed to her room, sat on the floor like usual, laptops open between them.
"You really think we can finish this outline today?" Lena asked.
"If we don't get distracted, yeah."
A long beat passed.
"Well," she said dryly, "there goes that plan."
**4**
They tried. Truly.
For about fifteen minutes, they wrote out a bulleted list on conflict and symbolism in *Lord of the Flies*.
Then Jace leaned back on his palms and said, "Why do you think we're afraid of being seen?"
Lena blinked. "What?"
"In general. People. Why do we hide things?"
She looked at him carefully. "Where's this coming from?"
"Just thinking."
"Well..." She hesitated. "Maybe because being seen means being *known*. And that means people can decide whether they want to stay. Or leave."
He didn't answer for a long time.
Then: "You think I'd leave?"
She didn't meet his gaze. "I think everyone has a line."
"Do you?"
"Probably."
"What is it?"
She looked up then, the air between them suddenly electric.
"Ask me again tomorrow."
He stared at her, as if trying to decode a language only she could speak.
Then he nodded, slow. "Okay."
**5**
By the time they'd finished the project (barely), the sun had started to set. Golden light filtered through her curtains, casting long shadows across the carpet.
Neither of them said much.
Jace stood, brushing crumbs off his jeans. "This was productive."
Lena nodded, following him to the door.
As he stepped out onto the porch, he turned back. "Hey, Lena?"
"Yeah?"
His eyes flicked to hers.
"You ever think maybe we weren't enemies. Just... two people who didn't know how to talk to each other?"
She swallowed. "Maybe."
"Maybe now we do."
Then he was gone.
And Lena stood in the doorway, heart thudding, whispering to no one in particular:
"Maybe."
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**part 2— What We Don't Say**
**1**
Tuesday didn't start with thunder or drama. Just the sound of her alarm, the dull gray of the sky, and the ghost of Jace's words lingering in her chest:
*Maybe now we do.*
Lena sat up in bed and stared at her ceiling like it could explain things—why her stomach tightened every time she thought of him, or why his silence in the hallways used to infuriate her and now just made her ache.
They were something now. Not together, not apart. Just... something unnamed, floating between chemistry notes and barely-held glances.
She showered longer than usual, tried three different outfits before settling on the first, and missed her bus by four minutes.
The walk to school in the cold didn't help. But maybe the quiet did.
By the time she made it to first period, she wasn't sure what she wanted from Jace—just that her stomach had become a weather vane for his moods. And that probably meant she was in trouble.
**2**
He didn't talk to her during homeroom.
He sat across the room, flipping through a textbook, pencil tapping against the desk like a heartbeat.
And maybe it wasn't anything.
Or maybe it was everything.
Lena forced herself to focus, but the silence pressed against her ribs like something waiting to snap. When the bell rang, she stood too fast and bumped into someone's desk.
Jace looked up. Their eyes met for one second too long.
He didn't say anything.
Neither did she.
And maybe that was the worst part.
**3**
Second period came.
She slid into her usual seat. Jace took his next to her without a word, dropping his bag like it owed him money. Mrs. Farrell handed out worksheets, and pencils scratched in unison across paper.
Still no words.
Lena stared at her sheet, read the same question three times, and still didn't register what it said.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"Are you mad at me?"
It came out quiet—barely more than a whisper.
Jace blinked, startled. "What?"
"You're quiet," she said. "More than usual. Which is saying something."
He sighed, leaning back. "I'm not mad."
"Then what?"
"I don't know." He glanced down at his worksheet. "I think I'm just... bad at this."
"At chemistry?"
He snorted. "No. *This.* Us."
Lena frowned. "We're not a science project, Jace."
"I know. I just—" He hesitated. "I don't want to mess it up."
Her breath caught.
"You haven't."
He looked at her then. Really looked.
"Yet."
**4**
They didn't talk again until lunch.
Lena sat with Sadie and Marcos under the big oak tree behind the school. It had become their unofficial table—weather permitting. Today was cold, but not unbearable. Sadie pulled out a thermos of tea like she was ready to start a revolution.
"You look like someone stole your dog," Sadie said, handing her a cup.
Lena stared at the steam. "Just tired."
"Liar."
Marcos raised an eyebrow. "It's Jace, isn't it?"
"I didn't say anything about Jace."
"You didn't *have* to," he said, biting into an apple. "You're doing the thing."
"What thing?"
Sadie mimicked her: "'I didn't say anything about Jace'" in a high-pitched voice. "Yeah, you're definitely doing the thing."
Lena groaned. "Why do I have friends."
"To hold you accountable for your feelings," Marcos said cheerfully.
Sadie leaned forward. "What happened?"
Lena hesitated, then told them everything—well, most of it. The project, the moment, the maybe. The weird silence today. How it made her feel like she was walking on a tightrope blindfolded.
When she finished, neither of them spoke right away.
Finally, Sadie said, "Do you want it to be something more?"
Lena stared at her tea. "I don't know."
"Lena."
"I *don't!*" she snapped. "I just... I like what it is. I'm scared if I want more, it'll fall apart."
Marcos spoke softly. "Maybe it falls apart if you keep pretending it's less."
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't know how.
**5**
The rest of the day passed in a blur of half-heard lectures and too-loud thoughts.
By the time the final bell rang, Lena wanted nothing more than to walk home alone and curl into a blanket cave.
But Jace was waiting by the gate.
Hands in pockets, eyes unreadable.
She stopped a few feet from him. "Hey."
"Hey," he said, quieter.
They stood there, surrounded by the noisy chaos of dismissal.
Then Jace asked, "Walk with me?"
Lena hesitated only a second before nodding.
They started down the sidewalk, side by side but not touching. A cold breeze stirred fallen leaves at their feet.
"Listen," he said. "About earlier…"
"You don't have to explain."
"I *do*," he said firmly. "Because this matters. You matter."
Lena stopped walking.
He stopped too.
"I'm not good at this," he continued. "Not just... feelings. People. I overthink everything. I shut down. I know that."
"You don't have to fix everything in one conversation, Jace."
"I know. I just..." He looked at her, and his voice dropped. "I don't want to lose whatever this is."
She swallowed.
"You're not," she said.
He took a step closer. "Promise?"
Lena hesitated, then reached out—fingers brushing his sleeve, just enough to ground them both.
"Promise."
**6**
They kept walking, slower now. She noticed the way he matched her pace, always just slightly behind, like he was giving her space to breathe.
"Do you think people can change?" she asked suddenly.
He didn't hesitate. "I think they already are. Every day. Even when they don't notice."
She nodded, then laughed softly. "You sound like a fortune cookie."
Jace smirked. "You're welcome."
When they reached the corner near her house, he didn't follow.
"See you tomorrow?" he asked.
Lena nodded. "Yeah."
He started to turn, then paused.
"You know I'm trying, right?"
"I know," she said.
He smiled. "Good."
And then he was gone.
And she stood there, heart a little steadier than before.
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