Chris pulled up in front of Jade's place at exactly 10 a.m., Tom's old car rumbling quietly in the summer heat. He leaned back, drumming the steering wheel with his fingers while waiting, until the front door opened and Jade stepped out in a light sundress and white sneakers, her black hair tied up in a messy ponytail.
She slid into the passenger seat, sunglasses already on. "You're punctual," she said with a teasing grin. "Trying to impress me?"
Chris smirked. "Trying to keep my promise. Let's go."
They rolled out of town with the windows half-down and music low. The summer breeze filtered through, warm and lazy. As the road stretched ahead, their conversation turned easy.
"So, senior year," Jade said, propping her elbow on the window. "You thought about what you'll do after?"
Chris shrugged. "Hockey, probably. Not the NHL or anything, but… maybe college team, scholarship stuff."
"You make it sound boring. You're actually pretty good, you know."
He gave her a side glance. "And you? Planning to seduce your professors?"
Jade grinned. "Tempting. But I was thinking maybe graphic design. I like creating things. Something chill, flexible."
He hummed in approval. "Sounds like it suits you."
They chatted the rest of the drive, making dumb jokes and debating which school teachers they'd bet money would retire mid-year. When they reached Hamilton and parked near the sports plaza, Chris circled around the car to open Jade's door.
She blinked at him. "Since when do you do that?"
He shrugged, playing it off. "Felt like it."
Jade bit back a smile. "Careful. Keep this up and I'll start expecting flowers next."
As they walked toward the shop, Chris casually reached down and took her hand. Jade's eyes widened slightly in surprise—but she didn't pull away. Instead, she beamed and laced her fingers between his, swinging their arms slightly.
The store was full of polished gear and rows of hockey sticks lined up like weapons on display. Chris got distracted almost immediately, testing flex and grip, while Jade trailed behind making sarcastic commentary.
"So is this one supposed to make you faster or hotter?"
"That one looks like it belongs to a supervillain."
When Chris finally found a composite stick he liked, he handed it to her. "Mind holding this while I pay?"
Jade took it in both arms, pretending it was a sword. "My liege."
They brought the stick back to the car, tossing it into the backseat before stepping back onto the street.
"Want to walk around for a bit?" Chris asked.
Jade stretched her arms with a yawn. "You buying me lunch?"
"Wasn't that part of the deal?"
"Then lead the way."
They strolled down tree-lined streets, popping into a few boutique stores, joking about weird window displays and bad mannequins. Chris was relaxed in a way he usually wasn't around others—shoulders loose, smile easy. And Jade, for once, wasn't trying to tease him into bed. She was just… there. Laughing. Walking next to him. Occasionally bumping his shoulder with hers.
They grabbed lunch at a small café—Chris went for a burger, Jade for a pasta bowl, and they shared fries between bites. Afterward, they wandered into a nearby park, finding a quiet shaded spot beneath a large oak tree.
Chris sank onto the grass and leaned back against the trunk. Jade plopped down beside him, then leaned into his shoulder.
They sat there for a while, silent but comfortable. His hand found hers again, their fingers idly playing. Birds chirped overhead, and the sun filtered through the leaves, speckling her legs with warm light.
At one point, she glanced up at him. "Hey."
"Hm?"
"You're really bad at keeping things casual."
Chris raised an eyebrow. "You mean you're the one who wanted no emotional stuff, and now we're holding hands in a park like we're dating?"
Jade snorted. "Yeah, shut up."
He chuckled, not letting go of her hand.
By the time Chris dropped her off at her house, the sun was already low in the sky.
"Thanks for today," Jade said, still sitting in the passenger seat. "I didn't expect it to be… fun."
Chris looked over at her. "Same."
She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you later, boyfriend."
"Thought we weren't doing labels," he said as she stepped out.
She winked. "We aren't. That's why I said it."
When Chris got home, the house was comfortably noisy—Claire was curled up on the couch, their parents prepping something in the kitchen.
Tom looked up. "Hey, you're back. Took your time, huh?"
Chris scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, lost track of time. Went out with friends."
Claire raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything. She noticed he looked more relaxed than usual, like something had shifted slightly.
Chris just passed through the hallway, heading toward his room. He needed to shower—and think. About today. About her.
About how complicated "no-strings" could get when you started actually caring.