Chapter 26
Sam
The energy from Saturday night still stays with me. It’s beneath my skin, buzzing from what he did. Everyone saw it in every cheer, every held breath, every eye locked on Reece.
Reece tore through that field as if it owed him blood. He didn’t hold back; he played with everything he had. Every hit and every bruise he’s still carrying, he gave it all. Every part of himself, as if the game was the only way he knew how to express himself.
And maybe I resented him a little for that. For making me feel proud when I didn’t want to be. For being that boy again—the one who gets under my skin and stays there no matter how hard I try to push him out.
I’m walking through the school gates. Lola’s next to me, talking quickly, her voice rushing over itself with something about a broken nail or her cousin’s party. I nod as if I’m listening, but I’m not. I’m somewhere else.
Back on that field.
Watching Reece lift his helmet off, sweat-drenched and breathless, eyes scanning the crowd as if he was looking for something or someone. And at that moment, I wondered if it was me—if he saw me standing there with my heart in my throat, knowing I could never hate him enough to stop caring.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it ever since—what it means that he still has the power to devastate me without laying a finger on me.
I should have been working on that damn assessment… the one Reece and I are supposed to be doing together.
But I couldn’t.
I opened the document several times, stared at the blinking cursor, tried to outline arguments, and piece together paragraphs.
I almost messaged him just to say, “Hey, can you do your half of the assessment so we don’t both fail?” But I didn’t. Because if he replied… if he even said my name, I’d cave. I’d hear that voice and forget all the reasons I’m supposed to stay mad.
So I did nothing. I just sat there all weekend, letting the silence eat away at me as the deadline approached.
“Sam. Hello. Earth to heartbreak girl.”
I blink and turn to Lola, who’s staring at me as if I’ve grown an extra head. Her brows are raised, and her lip gloss is too shiny for this early in the morning.
“What?” I mumble, pulling myself back to reality.
“Are you still seriously thinking about that boy?” she asks.
I roll my eyes. “Shut up.”
We barely walk through the doors, and it’s already chaos.
Screams bounce off lockers, tearing through the air, bodies pressed so tightly it’s a miracle anyone can breathe. Phones are out, mouths are open. Drama spills down the walls.
Lola yanks my arm, already stretching her neck like a bloodhound catching a scent. “Oh, hell yes. That’s Tia’s screech. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
She squints through the crowd. “And unless my eyes are lying, which they never fucking do, that’s Nicole’s crusty-ass weave in Tia’s hands.”
She pulls me forward, weaving through the crowd until the main event comes into view.
Tia and Nicole. Full fucking carnage. Clawed hands, flying limbs, hair getting snatched like they’re auditioning for some apocalyptic Real Housewives spin-off.
One of Nicole’s nails hits the floor. Tia’s got blood on her lip.
Nicole’s tit is a second away from making a guest appearance.
It’s savage, stupid, and everything this school fucking lives for.
The crowd converges like a pack of vultures fighting over the last piece of meat.
I should walk away. This isn’t entertainment for me. Even if part of me wants to cheer when they rip each other’s hair out, karma’s a bitch, and they’ve both handed out enough poison to deserve it.
But then it hits.
That slow-burning heat creeping down my spine. That hum in my bones.
I don’t have to look around to realize he’s here.
I feel it in my chest, in the way my pulse skips, and how the noise around me fades into static.
And sure enough, when I look up, there he is. Reece Wilson. Leaning against the wall, all easy shoulders and smug smile, arms crossed over that broad chest that’s wrecked more girls than gossip.
He is not watching the fight.
He is watching me.
He doesn’t blink.
Neither do I.
He just stands there, drinking me in with those intense eyes, and I hate that my heart stumbles like some clueless girl in a YA movie.
He’s still beautiful—stupidly, disgustingly beautiful—in that boy-who-breaks-hearts-and-doesn’t-care kind of way. Messy hair. Sharp jaw. That crooked smile that wrecks good girls and dares them to thank him for it.
He wears pain like a damn crown. And I wish I didn’t want to kiss him or ask what broke him before he ever reached me.
“Okay, break it up,” a teacher barks, pushing her way through the crowd. “Tia. Nicole. Office. Now.”
The crowd groans as phones are put away. The show’s over.
Tia spits out a curse so filthy it’d get me grounded until I turn thirty. Nicole shoots back with something about banging someone’s cousin. I don’t know if it’s true, but judging by the gasps of Tia’s little wannabes, she hit a nerve.
Lola is practically vibrating next to me, eyes wide, voice hushed with excited horror. “That was better than reality TV. I swear, next time I’m bringing popcorn and dragging a lawn chair into the hallway.”
She’s absorbing the chaos, energized by second-hand bitch-fight vibes, until she notices my face.
Then she groans.
“Oh no. Not that look again.”
I don’t answer.
“That’s the “he’s ten feet away and your ovaries are still writing him love letters” look.”
I tear my eyes away from Reece and head to my locker, pulling it open with a loud bang that makes it rattle. “What are you talking about?”
“The way you look at him is the same as someone dying of thirst looks at water.”
“I do not.”
“You do,” Lola sings, way too pleased with herself. “It’s giving tragic heroine energy. The kind who swears she’s done but would still ride him into next week if he so much as blinked.”
“Lola,” I snap, giving her a glare that could trigger the fire alarms.
She just smirks and taps my shoulder. “Be strong, Sam. Or at least keep your panties on until lunchtime.”
Then she struts off, leaving me in the wreckage of my dignity and Reece-fueled hormones.
Aubrey finds me by the lockers. I’m halfway through juggling my books and trying not to think about the look Reece gave me a moment ago.
“Sam!” she calls out. “Did you hear?”
I blink. “Hear what?”
She grins. “Reece. The scout from Mayfair called Coach this morning. Wants to set up a meeting.”
It hits harder than it ought to. My grip on my books slips for a moment.
“That’s… that’s great,” I say, forcing the words past the twist in my chest. “He deserves it.”
He does, especially after everything he invested in that game the other night. And now he has what he wanted: his second chance, his shot.
But it fucking hurts because all I can think about now is that I’ll see him around campus next year.
Passing him on the grounds, him sitting with Noah and Aubrey.
I won’t be able to look away, I already know it.
I’ll still remember the way he kisses. The way his hands knew where to touch, the way he made me feel as if I were more than a good girl with a plan.
I don’t know if I’ll ever stop craving that.
Wanting him.
Even when he’s the one who broke me.
“You should talk to him, Sam,” Aubrey says.
I shake my head before she finishes. “No.”
Her brows pinch. “Sam. He’s trying.”
She doesn’t understand. “So what if he is?” I snap, and it comes out sharper than I meant, but fuck it. That’s what happens when you give everything to a boy and he trades it for a two-hundred-dollar punchline. “He can be sorry all he wants. It doesn’t mean I have to listen.”
Aubrey flinches but stays firm. “Noah talked to him. He said he’s a mess. That he’s hurting.”
I laugh, hollow and bitter, as something breaks in my throat. “Good. He should be.”
She stays quiet, just standing there and biting her lip. She wants to fix this, to sew it all back together with enough thread to make it seem like it never tore. But I’m not some flat tire she can pump full of hope and send back into traffic.
“I can’t let him in again,” I whisper, voice cracking right in the middle. “Not after what he did.”
“What if it wasn’t what you think?” Aubrey’s voice is soft and careful, but it still hits hard.
“But it is.” I laugh. “He told me there was no bet, but there fucking was. And it doesn’t matter what he says now. He made me feel different. As if I meant something to him, just to toss me in the same pile with every girl he’s fucked and walked away from.”
“You’re not,” she says. “You know that.”
“Do I? Because it doesn’t feel that way. I’m still there, Aubrey. Still lying in that pile, right on top, with his fingerprints all over me.”
She doesn’t look away. “But you’re the one who walked away, Sam. Not him.”
I stay still. I don’t have an answer for that because she’s right. I ran first. I told him to stay the hell away.
Aubrey takes a slow breath. “The good ones don’t stop trying to fix their mistakes.” Her voice trembles. “Noah says he’s never seen him like this before. Not ever. He’s hurting, Sam. He barely speaks. Reece is messed up over it, and it’s not for show. He’s gutted.”
“Perhaps.” My voice cracks again as I press a hand to my chest, trying to hold back the pain and keep it from spilling out. “But sometimes, trying isn’t enough. Not when he’s already shattered the part of me that trusted him.”
I slam my locker shut harder than I intend to.
The metal clangs loudly through the hallway, but I don’t stop.
I can’t. Not with my throat burning and my chest tight.
I leave Aubrey behind, even though my stomach twists with guilt for brushing her off.
She was only trying to help. But I can’t keep talking about him.
Not when the wounds are still raw and bleeding beneath my skin.
I turn the corner and come to a full stop.
There he is.
Reece.
Leaning against the lockers further down the hall, that lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Maya stands in front of him, hair curled perfectly, makeup sharp, posture radiating wit and that flirty vibe.
She’s tucking her hair behind her ear as if she’s the star of some cheesy teen soap opera.
And for a moment, my heart stumbles.
He looks fine. Every bit the cocky, unfazed asshole who tore me apart.
I hear Aubrey’s voice in my mind: He’s hurting, Sam. He’s not the same.
Yeah… Doesn’t look like it.
Maya reaches out to him, her hand brushing his arm.
Then, it happens.
Reece recoils.
His hand snaps up, knocking her hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
A few people turn to look.
Maya blinks, stunned. “What the hell’s your problem?”
“You are,” he says.
Maya huffs before storming down the hallway, heels clicking loudly, yelling something about him being an asshole, but I don’t catch the rest. I’ve never seen him like this before.
He has never pushed anyone away. He’s always been the flirt, the tease, the smooth talker who knows exactly what he’s doing.
But not today.
I stay there watching him walk away, his hands shoved in his pockets, his head down, with no prowling in his step. No swagger. Just a boy who looks heavy and worn down.
Aubrey slides up next to me.
“See?”
I don’t answer.
“I told you Noah said he’s not the same,” she says, nudging my arm.
I watch him walk further down the hallway, shoulders hunched. That cocky energy has disappeared. Hands tucked deep into his pockets. Eyes fixed on the floor.
“You broke him, Sam,” she says softly. “You need to see it. He’s different now, and it’s because of you.”
I swallow hard, feeling my throat get tight.
Maybe I see it, but I still can’t speak.
God, I want to believe that this change is real—that he’s still trying, even when I won’t let him.
But believing means tearing down the wall I built around the part of me that still loves him. I have to risk it all again—my pride, my heart, and the tiny, fragile piece of trust he already shattered once.
And I don’t know if I’ll survive losing him twice.