Chapter 10
My morning classes fly by. A few people glance my way, but they’re always quick to avert their eyes. No one says a word about yesterday. No whispered rumors. No mocking looks. I make it to lunch unscathed.
While standing in line for food, I scan the cafeteria, searching the tables for Axel. The line creeps forward, and I still don’t see him.
Dread starts to rise in my chest.
Did he change his mind? Maybe he realized bringing me to his table would be social suicide. Maybe he just said it to be nice and now he’s going to pretend it never happened. The thought of sitting alone is soul crushing.
I grab one of the flimsy blue plastic trays just as a voice murmurs, “Boo,” right in my ear.
I shriek and spin, nearly flinging the tray like a weapon.
Axel stands behind me, laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all week.
“You’re such a jerk!” I snap, smacking his annoyingly solid bicep.
“That’s payback for dropping me on my ass this morning,” he says, still grinning.
I huff, but the relief is instant. I grab my tray and move down the line, Axel trailing behind me. We load up our plates. He grabs three slices of pizza, a bag of chips, cookies, and a sports drink. Must be nice to have the metabolism of a teenage boy.
I stick with one slice of pizza and a side salad.
“Did you seriously just cut in front of all these people?” I ask, nodding toward the students behind us.
“Yup,” he replies, zero shame in sight.
Rude.
We pay, and I follow him across the cafeteria to a table tucked in the corner. Three of the six seats are already taken.
“You already know Jessie,” Axel says as we approach. “That’s Rachel, and that’s Nik.”
I recognize Rachel’s name immediately, remembering Jessie mentioned she was Axel’s girlfriend.
She looks exactly how I pictured: all edgy glam, with a shaggy brunette bob and a sharp eyeliner wing that gives Jessie’s a run for its money.
But it’s Nik who catches my attention. He’s beautiful in that GQ way—dark blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and striking features. Effortlessly hot. The kind of guy who probably knows it.
There’s an empty seat next to him that I slide into without hesitation. Axel sits across from me beside Rachel, while Jessie drops into the seat on Rachel’s other side. I’m fully prepared to strike up a conversation with Nik, but Rachel’s already locked in on me.
“So,” she says, loud enough to turn heads, “this is your cousin?”
Axel barely glances up. “Stepcousin.”
“Same thing,” she says with a dismissive wave.
She eyes me up and down, her expression unreadable. Then, like she’s discussing the weather, she asks, “so, your mom died, huh?”
I choke on my bite of pizza and start coughing violently.
Axel and Jessie both whip toward her.
“Rachel!” they snap in unison.
She shrugs, all faux innocence. “What? I’m just trying to get to know her.”
She continues. “You poor thing. That’s so terrible. It must suck not having a mommy anymore.”
"That’s enough." Axel barks, making everyone jump. Rachel finally clues in and shuts her trap.
I manage to stop coughing, but now I’m fuming. What a bitch.
“Yes, Rachel. It does suck,” I deadpan. “But you know what sucks even more? Being an inconsiderate twat.”
Beside me, Nik fails to hide his snort. “Oh, shit,” he mutters under his breath.
“If you’ll excuse me…” I push back from the table. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
“Lina, wait! Don’t go!” Jessie calls, but I’m already walking away, pretending not to hear.
“Dammit, Rachel!” Axel snaps as I make my way between the tables.
I don’t get why he’s even with someone like that. Rachel doesn’t know me, and she still set out to upset me on purpose. Ugh, I hate that it worked.
It takes every ounce of restraint to dump my tray and walk to the bathroom without crying. But the second I’m locked in a stall, the tears fall.
It’s not necessarily the hurt from my mom’s death that overtakes my emotions, but more the reminder of everything that’s happened. I lean my back against the stall door and exhale. It’s impossible to think of my mom without thinking about Joe, and that sends me spiraling mentally into a dark pit.
Where is he now? What if he’s close by? Is he even looking for me?
I lean my back against the stall door and exhale shakily.
A moment later, the bathroom door creaks open. Looks like the time for my pity party’s over.
I wipe my eyes with toilet paper, praying my makeup isn’t a total disaster. At this rate, I should probably switch to waterproof everything.
“Lina?”
The voice makes me freeze.
Axel?!
“What are you doing in here? This is the girl’s bathroom. You’re gonna get in trouble!”
“Nah,” he says, unworried. “I came to check on you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I’m not. But I will be. I have to be. The world doesn’t stop turning for trauma.
His footsteps come closer until his Converse are directly outside the stall.
“Can I come in?”
I debate only a second before unlocking the door. I don’t see Axel as a threat. A little voice inside even says he may be someone I can trust.
He slips in and closes it behind him, flipping the lock again. It’s cramped, and suddenly very real. He starts to reach for me, but stops himself.
“I hate this. You’re breaking my heart. Can I give you a hug?”
I want that hug more than I want to breathe. I need someone to hold me and lie to me and tell me it’s going to be okay. But I can feel Joe’s shadow creeping in. Constantly stalking me. Always keeping me looking over my shoulder. I don’t think it’s a good idea.
Axel reads my face instantly.
“Never mind,” he says gently. “You can always say no.”
His patience and understanding continuously catches me off guard, and I don’t know why. He’s made it clear he has experience dealing with these things, but Johnny just comes across as so normal that it’s easy to forget he’s been through some shit, too.
“It’s not that,” I murmur, fumbling for words. “I really, really want that hug. But I’m also feeling extremely vulnerable. I don’t know if it’ll set me off.”
He considers this, then offers, “What if you hug me?”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No. You’re in control. I won’t move unless you tell me to.”
It seems ridiculous, and yet, strangely comforting.
Why is he like this? Why does he care? He barely knows me.
Still, I tentatively reach for him.
True to his word, he stays perfectly still.
He doesn’t move to close the distance. He waits for me to come to him.
It seems like we’re both holding our breath as I place a careful hand on his shoulder.
He’s more solid than I expected. I can feel muscle under my palm as I get used to the touch.
I look up at him through my lashes and he nods, encouraging me to continue, so I place my other hand on his other side.
We look like two kids at a middle school dance.
“Are you sure this is okay?” I whisper.
Axel rolls his eyes. “Lina, just hug me already.”
I do. I slide my arms around his neck and press my face into his chest. He just lets me melt into him. At first it feels stiff, unfamiliar. But little by little, my body relaxes. My arms grow less tense. My breath slows.
He smells good. Warm, clean, something faintly spicy and male. I breathe it in like it’s the first breath of air taken after drowning for so long. Let it ground me.
We stand like that for what feels like hours, but it’s probably only a minute.
“Lina?”
“Yeah?” I mumble, still buried in his chest.
“Can I hug you back now?”
I nod and feel him shift.
“I’m going to put my arms around you now,” he says, gently narrating the motion.
Even with the warning, I still cringe at the first contact, but he doesn’t tighten his hold. He just waits, standing soft and motionless, until I settle back into him.
Only then does he hug me fully, tightening his arms around me and resting his chin on top of my head.
I can’t remember the last time someone held me like this. Or the last time I let them.
It’s overwhelming. The safe warmth of it. The way his body makes space for mine.
And just like that, I start crying again.
“Hey,” Axel says, voice sounding a bit panicky. “Are you okay? Do you need me to let go?”
“N-no,” I sniffle. “Please don’t. It f-feels nice.”
So, he simply holds me while I cry.
When I finally stop, shame creeps in fast. I pull back and glance down, and sure enough, his T-shirt is damp. I wince.
“I’m so—”
“Stop.” His voice is firm, but not unkind.
Surprised, I look up. His dark eyes are steady on mine.
“It’s just a shirt. It’ll dry.”
My cheeks heat, and I gently push away, untangling myself.
I change the subject. “I can’t believe no one’s come in here.”
“I’m not,” he says easily. “I locked the door behind me on my way in.”
Of course he did.
“I figured you could use some privacy.”
His boldness amazes me. I wonder what it’s like to be Axel Harrington. To seemingly not give two shits about rules or consequences.
He flips the lock on the stall, and we step out. I hurry to the mirror, and yep, I look exactly like someone who just cried in a bathroom stall. Red eyes. Blotchy cheeks. Mascara tracks.
I freshen up while Axel leans patiently against the wall, waiting like this is just a normal part of his day.
When I’m as put-together as I can get, he moves to open the door, but I catch his arm and tug him back.
He pauses, looking down at me. His amber eyes search mine, unreadable.
“Thanks,” I say. “For everything.”
“It was just a hug.”
We both know it wasn’t just a hug. It was a crack in my armor. A small one, but it’s there. And he’s the one who made it.
He gives me a kind, knowing smile, and that damn dimple of his pops out.
I appreciate that he’s trying to downplay the last few minutes, but he doesn’t understand what a big moment this was for me.
What it meant.
All I know is, I made progress today, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel entirely irreparable.
Maybe, there’s hope for me yet.