---
**Part 1 — Firelight**
**1**
The night air was cool, crisp with that early-autumn bite that hinted at colder days to come. Lena pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she stepped out of the car, staring at the distant glow of string lights ahead. Laughter, music, and the smell of smoke drifted toward her like a wave.
Jace was already waiting by the gate, hands in his pockets, hair a little tousled from the breeze. When he spotted her, he grinned.
"You made it."
Lena tried to look casual. "Yeah, well. It was either this or reorganizing my bookshelf by emotional damage."
He laughed. "Tempting. But I'm glad you chose this."
They walked in together.
The backyard was sprawling. Chloe's family had a massive property—string lights zigzagged across trees, and a fire pit glowed at the center, surrounded by lawn chairs and cushions. People mingled, drinks in hand, music thumping softly from speakers by the patio.
Lena stayed close to Jace, her pulse just a little too fast.
This wasn't her scene.
But Jace… he looked so at ease. Fist-bumping a guy by the cooler, nodding at someone across the yard. He wasn't trying to be cool—he just *was*. And for the first time, Lena saw the version of him other people knew.
Confident. Funny. Effortless.
It was intimidating.
"You okay?" he asked, turning back to her.
She nodded too quickly. "Totally."
He gave her a look.
"I swear," she added. "I'm good."
Still, his hand brushed hers as they moved through the crowd, and she didn't pull away.
**2**
By the time they reached the fire pit, Lena had a cup of ginger ale in one hand and a slightly less pounding heart.
Jace found them a spot on an overturned log, half-wrapped in shadows from the fire. The light played across his face—gold and flickering—and she realized he looked different outside of school.
Softer.
"Okay," he said. "Let's do this properly. Worst party experience you've ever had. Go."
Lena raised an eyebrow. "We're doing trauma bonding now?"
He nodded solemnly. "It's tradition."
She thought for a second. "Seventh grade. Kayla's birthday. Someone put mayo in the frosting as a prank. I threw up in front of half the class. Including my crush."
Jace winced. "That's brutal."
"Your turn."
He smirked. "Freshman year. I showed up to a pool party with a neon green speedo. Thought it was funny. Turns out, not everyone appreciated the comedy."
Lena laughed. Loudly.
He grinned wider. "See? Trauma brings people together."
They stayed there, talking about everything and nothing. The fire popped and cracked, and somewhere behind them, someone started singing off-key to a Taylor Swift song.
It should've been chaotic. Overwhelming.
But next to Jace, it felt manageable.
Even fun.
**3**
Later, while he went to grab snacks, Lena sat alone near the fire. A couple girls nearby whispered and glanced her way. One of them, tall with glossy hair and that effortless popular-girl presence, finally spoke.
"So… you're Lena, right?"
Lena turned, cautious. "Yeah."
"I'm Ava. I used to hang out with Jace last year."
There it was.
Lena forced a smile. "Cool."
Ava tilted her head. "Just surprised to see him with someone like you."
Lena blinked. "Someone like me?"
"You know. Quiet. Serious. Not really his… type."
Lena's stomach twisted, but she held her expression.
"Well, maybe he doesn't have a type."
Ava's smile was all teeth. "Or maybe he's just *bored*."
The fire crackled between them.
Lena stood.
"I don't need to explain myself to you."
Ava shrugged. "Of course not. But people talk."
Lena turned and walked away.
She didn't look back.
**4**
She found Jace by the patio, balancing two cups of popcorn and a bag of chips in his mouth.
When he saw her face, his smile faded.
"What happened?"
Lena shook her head. "Nothing."
He narrowed his eyes. "Lena."
She sighed, folding her arms. "Someone decided to remind me I'm not your usual… whatever."
Jace set the snacks down. "Who?"
"It doesn't matter," she said quickly. "I just… I knew this would happen. I knew the second we came here, someone would start trying to cut me down."
He stepped closer, his voice low. "Lena, I don't care what they think."
"Maybe *you* don't," she snapped. "But I do. Because I've spent my whole life trying to be invisible so people like Ava wouldn't have an excuse to laugh at me."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then: "You're not invisible to me."
She looked up.
His eyes were serious. "You never have been."
Her throat tightened.
She didn't know what to say to that.
So she said nothing.
And he didn't push.
They just stood there, shoulder to shoulder, as the music drifted on.
**5**
They left the party early.
Neither said why.
The silence in his car was comfortable. Lena leaned against the window, watching streetlights blur past. The moon hung low, full and yellow like a coin pressed into velvet.
When he pulled up to her house, he didn't kill the engine.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "About before. I just… when people say stuff like that, it hits something."
"I get it," he said. "It sucks. But you don't have to fight them alone."
She turned to him. "Why *me*, Jace?"
His brows knit. "What do you mean?"
"You could be with anyone. Someone easier. Someone who doesn't overthink everything or panic in crowds or need three hours of alone time after school."
He looked at her like she was missing the obvious.
"Because you're real."
She blinked.
"You don't fake anything," he continued. "You're weird and smart and complicated, and you make me think about things in ways I never used to. You're... more."
Her eyes stung.
"Plus," he added with a smirk, "you've got a killer death glare."
She laughed, breath shaky.
Then, in the quiet, he reached out and took her hand.
Not dramatically.
Just a gentle intertwining of fingers in the dark.
And she held on.
---
---
**Part 2 — Shadows and Sparks**
**1**
Monday morning felt unusually quiet.
Maybe it was the cloud cover, pale and unmoving overhead. Maybe it was the echo of Friday night still sitting heavy in Lena's chest—the firelight, Ava's words, and the way Jace had held her hand like it meant something.
She hadn't told anyone. Not even Maya.
Not because she was ashamed.
Because she didn't know *how* to talk about it yet.
"Okay, spill," Maya said the second they met by her locker.
Lena blinked. "Spill what?"
"Don't give me that. You left the party with Jace Rivera. The entire school saw it. You two have been orbiting each other like unstable satellites since the semester started, and I'm over here just waiting for liftoff."
Lena groaned. "Nothing happened."
Maya raised a skeptical brow. "Uh-huh."
"We hung out. Talked. That's it."
"But *what kind* of talk?" Maya pressed. "Like, 'this chemistry homework is killing me' talk, or 'let's unpack our mutual trauma by the fire pit' talk?"
Lena hesitated.
Maya's eyes widened. "Oh my God. It *was* the second kind, wasn't it?"
Lena bit her lip, unsure whether to smile or hide in her locker.
Maya leaned closer. "Lena. This is huge."
"It's not a thing," Lena said. "We're not... anything. Not yet."
"But you want to be."
The words hung between them.
Lena didn't answer.
Because *yes*. Maybe she did.
And that terrified her.
**2**
By lunch, the rumors were everywhere.
People stared longer than usual. Someone made a comment by the vending machine—something like "Guess Rivera's got a new charity case"—and Lena walked away before she said something she'd regret.
In the library, Jace found her tucked between the tall fiction shelves.
He looked exhausted.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
He scratched the back of his neck. "I heard."
"Yeah," she said. "So did the rest of the school."
He sighed and leaned against the shelves. "I knew it would happen. I just hoped it wouldn't suck this much."
"I'm used to people talking," she said.
"Still doesn't mean it's fair."
"No," she said quietly. "But nothing ever is."
He looked at her then. Not like a classmate. Not like a teammate or a lab partner or even a friend.
Like someone *choosing* her.
"I don't care what they think," he said.
"I know."
"I want to be around you. Even when it's complicated."
Lena hesitated. "Even if I push you away sometimes?"
"Especially then."
She swallowed. "I'm not easy, Jace."
"I'm not asking you to be."
His voice was gentle.
She let the silence stretch for a beat.
Then nodded.
"Okay."
He smiled. "Okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "Let's try."
**3**
For the next week, everything changed—and nothing did.
They still bickered in chemistry. Still pretended not to look for each other in the halls. Still sat two inches apart in class when there were three feet available.
But now, there was *permission*. To text without reason. To smile without explanation. To let silences linger and mean something other than awkwardness.
To *want*.
Jace started walking Lena to class. Not every period, but enough that people noticed.
He brought her coffee one morning—way too sweet, but she drank it anyway.
She edited his essay during lunch; he called her a ruthless grammar tyrant.
And on Thursday, he let her listen to one of his half-finished songs on guitar. Her earbuds. Her fingers tangled in the wire as his voice, low and raw, slid into her ears.
It was the most vulnerable thing he'd ever shown her.
And it cracked something open inside her.
Still, Lena kept her guard up around certain people. She didn't tell her mom. Avoided Ava in the halls. Dodged Maya's knowing smirks.
But she didn't *hide* Jace.
Not anymore.
And that was new.
**4**
Then Friday hit.
The bell had barely rung when Ms. Patel announced that groups for the junior project were being reassigned. Apparently, too many people were coasting in pairs.
New rule: minimum groups of four.
Jace and Lena got merged with two new people.
Ava.
And Bryce, Jace's longtime friend and class clown with zero impulse control.
Lena sat frozen as Ms. Patel read the list.
Ava smirked from across the room.
Jace muttered, "You've got to be kidding me."
After class, Lena pulled him aside.
"I can handle it," she said. "It's fine."
"She's doing this on purpose," he snapped.
"Maybe. But she's still in the group. We'll just keep it professional."
He gave her a look. "You think she's capable of professional?"
"I think we don't have a choice."
He didn't look happy. But he nodded.
For the rest of the day, the mood between them was strained. Not angry. Just... tense.
Lena hated it.
She'd barely gotten used to being open with him. Now she had to share space with a girl who'd made her feel small.
**5**
They met at the library after school for their first group meeting.
Ava arrived ten minutes late, glossy as always.
Bryce wandered in after her, munching chips.
Jace looked like he wanted to set the table on fire.
Lena kept her posture straight and voice calm. "So. We're doing the multimedia piece on modern communication, right?"
Bryce shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."
Ava sat across from Lena, chin propped on her hand. "I have ideas."
"Great," Lena said. "We should divide the presentation evenly—two people on visuals, two on research."
Ava smiled. "I think I'd rather do the presentation. You know, the face of the project."
Jace frowned. "We haven't decided roles yet."
"Well, *some* of us are more suited for public speaking," Ava said.
Lena didn't flinch. "I'll do it too."
Jace glanced at her, surprised.
"Cool," Ava said, the edge in her tone sharp. "Can't wait to see how that goes."
Bryce chuckled.
Jace opened his mouth, but Lena beat him to it.
"Let's get to work."
She didn't raise her voice.
Didn't meet Ava's eyes.
She just opened her laptop and started typing.
And after a second, the others followed.
**6**
Later, Jace caught up with her by the parking lot.
"That was impressive," he said. "I've never seen anyone talk Ava down without, you know, actually *talking*."
Lena smiled thinly. "My mother taught me to fight with silence. It works."
He studied her. "You okay?"
"No," she said. "But I will be."
He leaned against her car. "I hate that you have to put up with this."
"It's not your fault."
"I know. Still."
They stood there as the sun dipped low, shadows stretching across the asphalt.
"I meant what I said the other day," she said finally.
"What part?"
"That I wanted to try. This. Us."
He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw the hesitation.
Then he stepped forward and kissed her cheek—soft, careful, like asking a question.
She didn't move.
Didn't answer.
Just let the moment hang in the quiet.
And something clicked into place.
Not loudly.
But enough.
---