CHAPTER 20.

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I tap my fingers on the desk, each impatient thud echoing the storm brewing inside me

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I tap my fingers on the desk, each impatient thud echoing the storm brewing inside me. The minutes drag, every second stretched by the weight of my thoughts. From the corner of my eye, I sense Eve's gaze, filled with questions, but I can't bring myself to answer. My mind is consumed with Blake.

His message—asking to meet during lunch—has been gnawing at me. I've been replaying everything in my head, wondering what he wants to talk about. Part of me prays he doesn't bring up what happened, yet another part hopes he does, so we can finally address it, clear the air, and maybe—just maybe—move past it.

When the bell finally rings, a sense of dread mixes with relief. I shove my things into my bag as Eve, unable to hold back any longer, starts in with her questions.

"Did you talk to Blake last night, or are you still ignoring him?" she asks, standing close, her curiosity palpable. "Have you figured out what you're going to do?"

"I'm about to go talk to him now," I say, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "He texted me and asked to meet by the track field."

"What do you think he wants to talk about? Do you think it's about what happened on Saturday?" she continues, as we walk out of the classroom. "Or do you think he's going to tell you that he likes you?"

I force a smile, though it feels fragile. "I doubt it. He probably just wants to give me that 'I only see you as a friend' speech." I glance at her, my smile faltering. "I'll find out soon enough. I'll meet you at the cafeteria after."

"I can't wait to hear all about it," she says with a thumbs-up, her excitement a sharp contrast to the dread sinking in my chest.

When I reach the track field, the sun feels too bright, the air too thick. I spot Blake and Erica before they see me. She's tying her shoes, and when she stands, she steps closer to him, tugging on his blazer with a familiarity that twists my stomach into knots. Her eyes meet mine, and she smirks before pulling Blake into a kiss.

My heart crumbles. The world blurs as pain slices through me, sharp and relentless. Everything around me fades, but the sound of Blake calling my name pulls me back.

"Precious," he calls, his voice desperate as he runs toward me.

Without thinking, I turn and bolt down the steps. My feet hit the grass, and I break into a run, tears spilling down my cheeks, my vision blurred by the flood of emotions. I wipe at my eyes, not wanting him to see me like this.

What was I expecting? For him to tell me that he feels the same way I do? I was so naive, so foolish to think that I meant more to him than this.

I knew it. I knew he loves her. He made that clear.

So why does my heart feel like it's being torn apart?

"Precious," he calls again, catching up to me and grabbing my arm. I stop, but I can't bring myself to look at him, not with tears still streaming down my face.

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