---
**Part 1 — Cracks in the Glass**
**1**
Lena didn't realize how quiet her house had become until she got home Friday night.
No music. No conversation. No television hum. Just the faint tick of the kitchen clock and the occasional groan of the old heater kicking in.
Her mom was on a late shift again. Another double.
Lena dropped her backpack on the floor, sat at the kitchen table, and just… existed.
The kind of silence that used to suffocate her now felt like a padded room. Safe. A little too empty, maybe, but hers.
She pulled out her phone.
No new messages from Jace.
Just a "Get home safe" from earlier and a thumbs-up after she texted "You too."
They were… okay. She thought. But something between them had shifted again—subtle, but present. Maybe it was the pressure of the group project. Maybe it was the way Ava's presence opened old wounds. Or maybe it was Lena's own fear, creeping back in like it always did.
Don't ruin it, she thought. Don't shut him out again.
But she didn't text first.
She just sat there, eyes unfocused, as the house ticked softly around her.
**2**
Saturday morning arrived with brittle sunlight and the smell of instant coffee.
Her mom stood at the counter, already dressed in scrubs, hair pulled into a low, messy bun. Tired but smiling.
"Morning, sweetheart."
Lena rubbed her eyes. "Hey. Thought you had the night shift."
"Got called in for a double." Her mother poured coffee into a mug. "Again."
Lena hesitated. "You okay?"
"I'm used to it."
"Still…"
Her mom turned, took a long sip of coffee, and leaned against the counter. "You want to talk about what's really on your mind?"
Lena froze mid-sip of orange juice.
Her mom smirked faintly. "I may be exhausted, but I'm not blind."
Lena looked at the counter. "It's nothing bad. Just school stuff."
"The usual?"
"Mostly."
A beat passed. Her mom's voice softened. "Boy stuff?"
Lena let out a short laugh. "Kind of."
"You know I don't care if it's boy stuff or girl stuff or anything in between, right?"
"I know," Lena said. "It's not that."
Her mother gave her a gentle look. "You like him?"
Lena nodded.
"And does he like you back?"
"I think so," she said. "It's just… complicated."
"It always is."
"I don't know how to trust it."
Her mother came over, pulled a chair out, and sat beside her. "Sweetheart, trust doesn't come with a manual. Especially not when you've been burned."
Lena didn't answer right away.
"Your dad…" her mom said softly, "he didn't make it easy for you. And I know watching me hold it together for so long probably didn't help either."
Lena looked down. "I just don't want to need someone."
"You don't. Needing someone isn't weakness. *Depending* on someone when they haven't earned it is."
Lena blinked at her.
Her mom smiled. "You're allowed to want things. Even scary ones."
For a moment, they just sat in the soft morning silence.
Then Lena stood. "I think I need to go clear my head."
"Call me if you need anything," her mom said.
Lena nodded, grabbed her coat, and stepped into the thin winter air.
**3**
Jace wasn't expecting her when she showed up on his porch.
His little brother answered the door, chewing on a bagel.
"Lena?"
"Hey, Riley."
He blinked. "Jace is in the garage."
She nodded. "Thanks."
The Rivera garage was more like a second living room. Posters of old bands. An aging drum set in the corner. A guitar on a stand. A space heater running at full tilt.
Jace sat hunched over his laptop at a workbench, headphones in, typing.
He didn't see her until she knocked on the metal frame of the open door.
He turned, eyes surprised, and tugged off his headphones.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
A pause.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I will be," she said. "Can I come in?"
He nodded quickly and gestured at a beanbag chair. "Of course."
She sat. He put the laptop aside and grabbed a second chair, turning it to face her.
They didn't talk for a minute.
Then:
"I don't like how things felt yesterday," she said.
"Me neither."
"I think I let Ava get in my head."
Jace gave her a soft, sideways smile. "Yeah. She has that effect on people."
"It's not just her," Lena said. "It's… me. I don't know how to be in this. With you. Not without waiting for it to fall apart."
He didn't rush to reassure her.
Didn't tell her it wouldn't fall apart.
Instead, he reached forward, palms open, and waited.
She hesitated, then placed her hands in his.
Warm. Steady.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
"Me too," he said. "But I want to be scared *with* you."
Her eyes met his.
And she believed him.
**4**
By Sunday, they'd fallen back into something like rhythm.
They worked on the group project over text. Ava was largely unhelpful. Bryce added memes to the shared doc. Lena and Jace carried the bulk of it.
But somehow, the weight didn't feel as heavy.
They had each other.
Jace started sending her his songs again—unfinished ones. The rough drafts. His voice was shaky, but she liked those best.
Lena started drawing again. Nothing huge. Just sketches on notebook margins. Hands. Eyes. The lines of his jaw.
They didn't call it love.
But they didn't *not* call it that, either.
They just existed in the warmth between two people still learning how not to flinch.
And for a little while, it was enough.
---
---
**Part 2 — After the Pause**
**1**
Monday arrived like it always did: heavy, gray, indifferent to what anyone had been through over the weekend. Lena stood by her locker in the usual hallway, watching the crowd shuffle past like a tide, backpacks bouncing, voices rising and falling like waves.
It felt different now, walking through these halls with something *real* sitting quietly in her chest.
She wasn't sure what to call it yet—not love, not even really a relationship—but it was something. A thread, stretched between her and Jace, humming lightly with every glance, every shared silence.
He hadn't walked her to first period. That wasn't their thing.
They were private, quiet, something *almost* secret. But not hidden.
It was Jace who found her eyes across the hall and gave the tiniest nod. And it was her who nodded back, a smile ghosting across her lips.
That was enough. For now.
**2**
In Chemistry, Lena and Ava were still lab partners. Unfortunately.
Mrs. Doyle was explaining molarity conversions while Lena stared at the page, barely taking in the formulas. Her thoughts kept drifting—Jace's text from last night, the way he said he'd been writing a new song. He didn't play it for her yet. Just said he *might*.
He was letting her in. Slowly. She was doing the same.
"You're distracted," Ava said flatly.
Lena blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You've rewritten the same number three times. And your decimal is wrong."
Lena flushed. "Sorry. Just… tired."
Ava raised a brow. "Right. Tired. Not, say, emotionally entangled with someone we both know is a disaster in disguise."
Lena turned slightly. "You can just *not* talk, you know."
Ava smirked, unbothered. "I'm just trying to be honest. You seem smart. Jace has… history."
"Everyone has history."
"Not everyone drags it behind them like a ghost."
Lena's pencil snapped between her fingers.
Ava looked down at it and then back up. "Touchy."
Lena took a slow breath, forced her voice to stay level. "Whatever happened between you and Jace—that's *your* story. Not mine."
"You think he's different now?"
"I *know* he's trying."
Ava tilted her head like she was examining something under glass. "Huh. We'll see."
They didn't speak for the rest of class.
Lena's hands didn't stop shaking until the bell rang.
**3**
Lunch felt like a stormcloud gathering just off the horizon.
The group had fallen into an awkward rhythm—Ava included, mostly due to the project. She sat at the edge of the table like a cat eyeing a pack of dogs, never fully in, never fully out.
Bryce, oblivious as always, was trying to rank the cafeteria cookies.
"Look, I'm telling you, Tuesday's are the best. They're soft but not *too* soft. Like the perfect ratio of crumb to chew."
"No one cares, Bryce," said Noor.
"I care," he said. "These are important debates."
Jace was quiet.
Lena could feel his silence, like an unspoken note hanging in the room.
"You okay?" she asked under her breath.
He gave her a nod, then leaned in slightly. "Later?"
She nodded.
Across the table, Ava was watching.
Not glaring. Not smirking. Just… watching.
And that was somehow worse.
**4**
After school, Lena met Jace outside by the bike racks. Neither of them said anything at first. He walked beside her down the path behind the school, the one that led toward the woods.
It was cold, the sky washed out and the trees brittle in their winter stillness.
"I hate that she still gets to you," Lena said finally.
Jace kicked at a loose stone. "She doesn't. Not really."
"You're a terrible liar."
He gave a short, dry laugh. "Yeah. I know."
They reached the bend in the path where the trees thickened and the air went quiet.
"I keep thinking I'm past it," he said. "But every time I see her, it's like something rewinds."
"You don't have to talk about it if—"
"No. I want to."
He looked at her, eyes clear. "I didn't cheat on her. That's the rumor. That I got bored, moved on. But it wasn't like that."
Lena stayed still, listening.
"She started pulling away first. Getting colder. But every time I asked what was wrong, she'd shut me out. Then blame me for not trying hard enough. It messed with my head."
He took a breath.
"Eventually, I stopped asking. I thought maybe it was just a phase. I thought I'd wait it out. And then one day, she said she didn't trust me. That she *couldn't* trust me. She didn't even give me a reason. Just… said I wasn't who she thought I was."
Lena felt something heavy shift in her chest.
"She broke up with me in front of her friends. Made it a joke. And I let it happen because I didn't want to fight."
He looked down.
"I should have said something. But I didn't. And then the rumors started. I didn't correct them. I didn't want the attention. But it just got worse."
Lena's voice was soft. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I didn't think you'd care."
"I *do* care."
He looked at her, eyes flicking between hers, unsure.
She reached for his hand, slow and deliberate, and held it.
"I don't care what she said," Lena whispered. "I trust you."
And for the first time in a long time, Jace let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he didn't have to keep carrying the weight alone.
**5**
Tuesday brought a fresh layer of frost on the ground and a slightly less heavy feeling in Lena's chest.
She still had Chemistry with Ava.
Still had whispers in the hall from people who liked to feed on scraps.
But now, there was a difference.
Now, when she felt the fear creeping in—the voice telling her it would all fall apart—she had something to hold onto.
Jace.
Not perfect. Not easy. But real.
They didn't make some dramatic announcement. They didn't kiss in the hallway or post couple pictures or write initials on their notebooks.
They just stood a little closer.
Walked a little slower.
Shared a little more.
And that, in this world of noise and half-truths, felt like rebellion.
**6**
That Friday, as school let out, Lena found a note folded in the front pocket of her locker.
No name. No handwriting she recognized.
It simply said:
**"He's not who you think he is."**
Her breath caught.
She looked around, but the hallway was nearly empty.
Fingers trembling, she refolded the note, shoved it deep in her coat pocket, and walked—too quickly—toward the exit.
She didn't know what scared her more.
The note itself.
Or the tiny, traitorous voice inside her that whispered:
**What if they're right?**
---