2 | Under the Night Sky
At some point, the party had moved inside.?
Bodies sprawled across Hailey’s furniture, voices layered over each other in that easy, aimless way people talked when they’d had just enough to drink. Outside, the sky had turned that deep bruised blue that came right before full dark.
I was on the couch, wedged between Hailey and the armrest, nursing a beer I didn’t want. My third. Or fourth. I’d lost count somewhere around the time Cole had started his story about the guy at his gym who’d allegedly stolen his protein powder.
Melissa was on the floor, legs crossed, wine glass balanced on her knee like she was posing for an ad.
“Okay, okay—hear me out.” She looked around the room, eyes bright. “Truth or dare.”
And before I could say no, Cole was moving the coffee table out of the way, clearing space in the center of the room.
People started moving. Shuffling. Settling into spots on the floor like we were about to summon something.
Theo was leaning against the wall near the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching the whole scene with an expression I couldn’t quite read. Amused, maybe. Or resigned.
Melissa noticed him. “Theo. Circle. Now.”
“I’m good here.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Correct.”
She rolled her eyes. “God, you should be more fun. You got hot—at least act like it.”
Theo just raised an eyebrow. “I’m going outside.” He pushed off the wall and headed for the back door without another word.
Melissa watched him go, shaking her head. “What a waste of a jawline.”
The bottle spun. Landed on Ryan. He picked dare, because of course he did. Nate dared him to text his ex. He did it without hesitation, grinning the whole time.
Another spin. Hailey. Truth.
Another.
Then stopped.
Pointing at him.
“Charles!” Melissa clapped her hands together. “Truth or dare?”
Melissa’s gaze landed on me for a second. Her smile widened—too bright, too knowing. The kind that said she’d just noticed the fault line and couldn’t wait to watch it crack open.
My chest went cold.
And he smiled too. That easy, confident smile that was making me sick now.
“Dare.”
“I dare you to—”
I could feel it coming. Whatever Melissa was about to say. The dare that would turn me into entertainment.
My throat tightened—not from hurt. From annoyance.
So I stood up.
“I’m out,” I said. “I need some air.”
“Tessa—” Melissa started.
“Just… keep playing.”
I didn’t wait for a response. Just walked past the circle, past Charles’s confused expression, past the coffee table and the half-empty bottles. The back door clicked shut behind me, and the noise cut in half.
The air outside was cool and sharp, biting at my flushed skin. I breathed it in. Once. Twice. Let it clear the fog in my head.
The patio was empty except for a few abandoned chairs and the faint smell of barbecue still clinging to the grill.
And Theo.
He was sitting on the bench at the edge of the yard, leaning back with his legs stretched out in front of him, head tilted up toward the sky. And I let myself look at him for a second longer than I usually did.
The line of his jaw in the dark. The way he held himself—still, unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be.
I looked away before he could catch me.
Hesitated.
Thought about going back inside.
But then he looked over.
“Running away again?”
“Thinking about it,” I said, smiling.
“Right.”
I crossed the grass and sat down beside him, leaving a careful foot of space between us that somehow felt smaller the moment I was settled. The bench was cold. Above us, the sky was scattered with stars—more than you’d think you could see this close to the city.
For a minute, neither of us said anything.
I glanced at him. He was still looking up, expression relaxed in a way I didn’t see often.
“You seem different tonight,” I said. “More relaxed. It suits you.”
He shrugged, still smiling faintly.
“It’s been a good few weeks,” he said it like there was a story there.
“How about you?” he asked. “How’s your night going? Charles work his magic yet?”
I let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh. “Not exactly.”
“Shocking.”
“I’m in trouble, actually.”
He turned to look at me then, eyebrows raised. “What kind of trouble?”
“The self-inflicted kind.” I picked at the label on my beer bottle. “You know Emma’s wedding?”
“The one in a week?”
“That one.” I paused. Took a breath. “Charles asked me to go with him. As friends. I said no. And then I told him I was already going with someone.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
Theo chuckled.
“I panicked.”
“You panicked and invented a date.”
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a second. Then he started laughing—soft at first, then louder, his shoulders shaking.
“It’s not funny,” I said.
“It’s a little funny.”
“I’m serious. I don’t know what to do. If I show up alone, he’ll know I lied. And if I don’t show up at all, it’ll look like I’m hiding.”
The laughter faded. Theo studied me, his expression shifting into something more serious now. “Is it over? With him?”
I hesitated.
“Actually over,” he pressed. “You two have been on and off for—what, a year? Isn’t this just another off before the next on?”
“It’s different this time.”
“That’s what people always say.”
We went quiet again. Then: “I mean it.”
“Tessa—”
“You can’t tell anyone, okay?” I said.
He stopped. Looked at me more carefully. “Okay.”
“I’m serious. No one knows. Not even Hailey.”
“I won’t say anything,” he said quietly. “I promise.”
I believed him. I don’t know why, but I really did.
“He cheated on me.” The words came out flat. Matter-of-fact. Like I was reading them off a card. “I walked in on him. His apartment. Some girl I’d never seen before. She was on her knees, and he had his—you know. You get the picture.”
The night air scraped my lungs. Saying it out loud made it real in a different way—stickier, uglier. I waited for him to flinch.
I couldn’t look at Theo. Couldn’t see whatever was in his face—pity, disgust, awkwardness. So I stared at my hands instead.
Theo was quiet for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was different.
“Do you need me to go back in there and break his jaw?”
I looked up, startled.
He wasn’t looking at me anymore. He was staring toward the house, toward the lit windows, his jaw tight. His hand had curled into a fist against his thigh, knuckles whitening.
I hadn’t seen Theo like this in a long time.
This wasn’t the Theo I’d gotten used to as an adult—measured, careful, always in control. He reminded me more of a boy who used to fall asleep next to me on his trampoline.
And his eyes held the same fire they had when another kid stuck gum in my hair when I was ten.
He broke the kid’s jaw for it.
“Theo—”
“I mean it.” His voice was still low, controlled. “Say the word.”
For a second, I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to say yes—wanted to watch Charles get exactly what he deserved. But that wasn’t who I was. And if I’m being honest, I didn’t care that much anyway.
But his hand was still clenched.
I could see it even in the low light—the tension running up his forearm, held too tight for too long.
“Theo—”
He exhaled through his nose, sharp, controlled, like he was forcing himself back into something familiar. Safer. But his jaw didn’t fully relax.
“Sorry,” he muttered, though it didn’t sound like an apology. More like a correction.
I shook my head. “Don’t be.”
And I meant it.
Because some part of me—quiet, inconvenient—had liked it.
Not the violence. Not really. But the immediacy of it. The way he hadn’t hesitated. The way it had been so simple for him: he hurt you, I fix it.
I looked down at his hand again.
“Do you always go straight to breaking jaws?” I asked, lighter now, but there was something underneath it I couldn’t quite smooth out.
His mouth curved faintly, but it didn’t soften him the way it usually did.
“Only when it feels justified.”
“And this qualifies?”
His eyes flicked to mine.
“Yes.”
The answer came too fast to be anything but honest.
My stomach pulled tight, low and unfamiliar. I shifted slightly on the bench, the wood pressing cold against the back of my legs, grounding.
“You don’t even like me that much anymore,” I said, trying for casual. It landed wrong. Too sharp.
His brow pulled in just slightly.
“That’s not true.”
“Please,” I huffed. “You tolerate me. At best.”
A beat.
Then, quieter—
“I like you plenty.”
The words settled somewhere deeper than they should have.
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t, not right away.
Because suddenly I was very aware of him again—not just there, but close. The heat of him cutting through the night air. The way his shoulder angled just slightly toward mine, like he’d turned without realizing it.
Too close for casual.
Too steady for safe.
I swallowed.
And before I could think it through—before I could soften it or reshape it into something less reckless—
“I don’t need you to hit him,” I said finally.
His jaw tightened.
“Then what do you need?”
I looked at him a second too long.
“I need a boyfriend.”
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Do you have anyone in mind for Tessa or are you already rooting for someone you’ve met? ??
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