Dare to Fall

Chapter XLI

I watched him storm out, leaving the school in a fit of frustration. 

It wasn't the first time I'd seen Cayden skip classes, but it never got any easier to witness. Being the principal's son didn't seem to exempt him from the pain he carried, though it did give him a certain level of immunity from consequences. The teachers never really addressed his absences. It wasn't that they didn't care about him missing classes—no, I think they were just afraid of him. There was something about Cayden that made people keep their distance, and in a way, I understood that. He always seemed to carry this heavy indifference, like nothing mattered to him anymore—not school, not even his own life.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Logan standing there, his face soft with concern. "He'll come around, Hailey. Just give him time," he said, his voice low but steady. I tried to give him a smile, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. Instead, I glanced at the door Cayden had just stormed through and then back to Logan.

"I hope so," I muttered, hearing the bell ring for the next class.

As I walked past Logan, I hesitated, turning around to say something—anything—but the words didn't come. After a brief pause, I continued down the hallway, forcing myself to focus on the next task: getting through the day. Before I knew it, I was seated in my next class, slumping down in my chair and resting my head on the desk, trying to exhale the tension that had built up inside me.

Ethan plopped into the seat beside me, and I could sense him staring at me even before he spoke. "You look off. What's going on?" he asked, leaning in closer than necessary. My cheeks flushed slightly, and I instinctively pulled back, creating more space between us.

"Nothing," I replied, my voice muffled as I attempted to bury my face in my arms again.

Ethan, however, wasn't having it. He gently lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. He squinted, studying my face like I was some kind of puzzle he was determined to solve. "You're a terrible liar, Hailey Felicity Jefferson Jones," he said, furrowing his brow as if this were some serious matter of investigation. "I've known you long enough to know something's up. You're not getting out of this one."

I sighed, exasperated. "I don't know, Ethan. I really don't. Everything's just... messed up. I don't know what to think, what to feel. I can't make sense of it."

"Ah," Ethan said, pointing a finger in the air like he'd cracked the code. "You've got a thing for someone, but they're pushing you away. That's what this is about, isn't it?"

I shot him a look, incredulous. "What? No!"

But Ethan, ever the amateur psychologist, continued. "You're confused because you like this person, but your brain hasn't caught up to what your heart already knows." He smirked, clearly satisfied with his own analysis.

I groaned, shaking my head. "You're wrong, okay? It's not like that."

"Sure, sure," he said, flashing me a thumbs-up. "Two points for denial."

"Sometimes, Ethan," I muttered, "I can't tell if you're trying to help or just make me feel worse."

"That's what friends are for," he replied with a wink.

***

The end of the day finally arrived, and as the final bell rang, students poured out of classrooms, loud and eager to leave. I stayed behind, hiding out in the library during PE—there was no way I was getting involved in Mr. Elliot's version of dodgeball again. 

It was less of a class and more of a form of public humiliation. After finishing my book, I returned it to the shelf and headed for the exit. That's when I spotted Amelia chatting with a friend. When she saw me, she waved goodbye to her classmate and rushed over, looping her arm through mine.

"Skipping PE, Hailey? Who are you and what have you done with my friend?" she teased.

I shrugged. "It's PE. I'd rather face a dragon than go to that class."

Amelia rolled her eyes dramatically. "Can't blame you. Mr. Elliot's class is a nightmare."

As we walked out of the school, still discussing the horrors of PE, I felt a hand grab my arm. I turned to find Cayden, leaning against the wall. His grip wasn't tight, but it was firm enough to stop me in my tracks. My mouth opened to speak, but no words came. He didn't say anything either, just looked at me, his face unreadable.

"Let's go," he finally said.

I blinked at him, confused, before glancing at Amelia. She just shrugged, offering no help whatsoever. Before I could protest, Cayden started walking, dragging me along with him. We headed in the direction of his car, and I tried pulling my arm free, but he wasn't letting go.

"Cayden," I began, exasperated. "I'm not a pet. If you've got something to say, just say it."

He stopped, and for a moment, he seemed almost taken aback by my outburst. Then, to my surprise, a smirk tugged at his lips. "Good job," he said, reaching out to ruffle my hair.

"What?" I asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Good job for standing up for yourself," he repeated. Then his smirk faded, replaced by a rare moment of seriousness. "Now do me a favor—tell me what's really been bothering you. I know I've messed up. I can tell you're pissed, and I want to fix it."

I stared at him, stunned. This was not the Cayden I was used to. He wasn't angry, wasn't being his usual distant, indifferent self. He seemed... sincere. Vulnerable, even. It caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to respond.

Instead, I shook my head. "I don't even know where to start."

"Then get in the car," he said, motioning to the passenger seat. "We can talk, or not talk. But I'm not letting you walk away right now."

I rolled my eyes, more out of habit than annoyance, and slid into the car. He climbed in on the driver's side and started the engine, pulling out of the school parking lot without another word. The silence in the car was heavy, but not uncomfortable. Eventually, I closed my eyes and dozed off.

When I woke, the car had stopped. Cayden was already outside, leaning against the hood, staring out at the view. I got out, feeling the cool breeze hit my face, and saw we were at the beach. The winter air was brisk, but there was a peacefulness to the scene that instantly made me feel more grounded.

Cayden motioned for me to join him, and we walked down to the shore, stopping a few meters away from the water's edge. He sat on an old driftwood log, and I sat beside him, the sound of the waves filling the quiet between us.

"I come here when I need to think," he said after a while, his voice soft. "Or when I feel like I'm screwing everything up. Which is more often than I'd like to admit."

I looked over at him, surprised by his honesty. "Why me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why bring me here?"

He glanced at me, his usual tough exterior nowhere to be found. "Because I know I've pushed you away. And I'm trying to figure out why I do that. You're one of the only people who... who actually sees me. And I'm not used to that."

I didn't know what to say. For a long time, I'd thought Cayden was untouchable, unreachable even. But now, sitting here with him, I realized he was just as lost as the rest of us. Maybe even more so.

We sat there for a while longer, the silence speaking more than either of us could manage with words. When Cayden finally spoke again, his voice was quiet but steady. "Thanks for sticking around."

I smiled softly, the weight of our earlier tension slowly lifting. "Always," I said, and for the first time in a long while, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things were starting to make sense.