The light in the Hart household's upstairs hallway was dim, soft like the ending of a quiet evening. In their bedroom, Marcus sat on the edge of the bed, carefully unbuttoning his shirt while Elaine applied lotion to her hands at the vanity nearby.
"She's different lately," Marcus said, not looking up. "You think she's finally done with those easy, forgettable flings?"
Elaine paused mid-rub and tilted her head slightly, considering. "Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "She's always been strong-willed. But even a strong heart wants a safe place to rest eventually." She glanced at her husband with a small smile. "And that boy doesn't seem like he's just passing through."
Marcus gave a short grunt of agreement. "He didn't flinch when I grilled him. That says something."
Elaine chuckled. "It says he might actually stick around."
A few days later
It was Saturday, bright and warm. Chris adjusted the collar of his new shirt in the mall's reflective glass and glanced sideways.
"Doesn't this look kinda... too much?"
Jade leaned back, eyes narrowing as she examined him with faux-serious scrutiny. Then she grinned and tugged at the front of the shirt. "Nope. It makes you look hot. Shut up and let me enjoy this."
Chris laughed under his breath as Jade linked her arm through his and practically dragged him toward the next store. Her usual smirky confidence had morphed today into something... lighter. Her boldness was still there, but she bounced beside him like a kid set loose with a golden ticket. Giddy. Playful. Happy.
They had already watched a movie, Jade resting her head on his shoulder the whole time, hands tightly entwined in the dark theater. Afterward, she insisted on shopping together, but insisted harder on dressing him up in things she liked—soft sweaters, well-fitted shirts, jackets that made him look "too damn boyfriend-material," her words.
Chris didn't even fight it. He was just... enjoying her.
Elsewhere in the mall, Claire and Amber sat at a café on the second floor, smoothies in hand, shopping bags at their feet.
"I still can't believe Jade bailed on us," Amber huffed, sipping loudly. "She was all 'oh I'm busy today' like we wouldn't notice she's disappeared every second day lately."
Claire flipped through a makeup catalog disinterestedly. "She probably just didn't want to go out today."
Amber narrowed her eyes at the floor below them, toward the open central court where the escalators and stores were visible. Then she did a double take.
"Well, speak of the devil," Amber muttered, tapping Claire's arm.
Claire looked up.
Down below, Chris and Jade strolled together—hand in hand. Jade looked like she was glowing, grinning at something Chris said, playfully tugging him toward another store, eyes shining. She leaned into him. He didn't flinch. He even smiled.
Amber squinted. "That's Jade, right?"
Claire didn't answer immediately.
"Could be her twin," Amber went on, amused. "I mean, she's acting like someone let her into a candy store and told her it's all free. That's not the usual 'too cool for feelings' Jade."
Claire finally spoke, her voice quieter than usual. "It's her."
Amber glanced sideways. "That guy—Chris? Your brother? Since when does he wear clothes that actually fit?"
Claire didn't laugh. She just stared, eyes fixed on them, watching the way Jade tugged his hand tighter, the way Chris leaned in just a little when he spoke to her. Something odd twisted in her chest, though she couldn't quite place it.
Amber nudged her. "Hey, don't give me that look. They're cute. You've gotta admit it."
Claire didn't reply. Instead, she looked back down, slowly flipping the page in her magazine again—but her eyes were unfocused, and the page remained still under her hand.
The late summer sun filtered in through the tall glass windows of the school's ice rink, scattering gold across the polished surface. The bleachers buzzed with noise and chatter—families, students, teachers, all gathered for the friendly match against the visiting school's team. It wasn't an official game, but pride was still on the line.
Tom sat with the girls in the third row from the ice, arms folded over his chest, eyes following the teams warming up. Claire was sipping a soda, idly scanning the players on the ice. Amber sat next to her, animatedly pointing out the hottest players. Jade, in a loose crop top and tight jeans, had stood up moments ago.
"I'm gonna hit the bathroom," she said casually.
Claire nodded without much thought.
But Jade didn't head toward the restrooms.
Instead, she slipped behind the bleachers and through a side corridor, walking briskly with a purpose. At the end of the hallway near the locker rooms, Chris was already there, leaning casually against the wall, his hoodie half zipped, hockey bag beside him.
Their eyes met—and in an instant, they were in motion.
They ducked into the small utility alcove off the locker hallway. Chris grabbed her by the waist and pushed her gently but firmly against the wall. Their lips met in a messy, feverish kiss.
Jade barely managed a breathless whisper between kisses. "Hey... they say doing it before a game improves performance."
Chris, already breathing heavy, hesitated. "I don't have any condoms."
Jade gave him a sly smile and murmured close to his ear, "It's safe today."
That was all it took.
Hands moved fast, practiced. Clothes pushed aside just enough. Their mouths muffled the sounds as they collided in a rushed, desperate moment. It was intense, frenzied, with Chris gripping her thighs and Jade digging her nails into his shoulders. There was no time for sweet—only heat, and the pulse of something they both didn't fully understand but couldn't stop.
They finished almost simultaneously, Chris pressing his forehead to her shoulder, panting hard. "I don't think I could ever be satisfied with anything less than this," he muttered, voice hoarse and awed.
Jade chuckled softly and tugged his hair. "You better not."
A final kiss, deep and lingering, and then they parted. Jade adjusted her clothes with a satisfied little hum, licking her lips as she stepped away. Chris zipped his hoodie and jogged off toward the changing room.
A few seconds after she emerged from the corridor and rounded the corner to rejoin the bleachers—
Claire was there.
Standing near the back railing, her soda untouched in hand, wide-eyed.
Jade blinked.
Claire didn't say a word. Her hand came up slowly to cover her mouth, but her gaze... it wasn't horror.
It was confusion.
And under it—buried, repressed—something darker. A flicker of something almost like lust.
The game began shortly after.
Chris burst onto the ice with explosive energy. He skated faster, passed sharper, shot with precision and power that had the audience gasping. He wasn't just playing well—he was on fire.
Tom leaned forward, impressed. "Damn," he muttered. "He's never played this freely before... it's like someone unclipped his wings."
Jade smirked without looking away from the game. "Maybe he just needed the right kind of motivation."
Claire glanced sideways at her, something unreadable flashing behind her blue eyes. "Right..." she muttered, voice low.
And as Chris scored yet another clean goal, pumping his fist with quiet intensity, Jade clapped slowly, fingers brushing over her lips like she was remembering something private.
Claire kept watching her from the corner of her eye, that strange feeling deep in her chest slowly growing heavier.