Sleep had abandoned me. Like everything lately, it slipped away the moment I came close to breathing again. Thoughts of Oliver tightened around my throat—and the irony was, he was the one who brought me back to life. But why? And what even is he? Maybe… maybe he feels something for me. And if he does… then why am I the one whose heart is spinning out of control?
I wasn't sure—not about my feelings for him and not about his feelings for me.
Not even about Jace. My thoughts tangled like a dream that turns into a nightmare without warning. My heart pounded—not like a drum, but like a locked door that someone was trying to break down.
So I got up.
In the kitchen, Dylan sat munching on a cookie. He focused on the moment, unaware that the world continued to move.
"You don't look so good," he said without glancing up.
"You don't either," I shot back.
"What do you mean? I always look amazing." He winked, letting my words slide off with his usual humor.
I sat at the table, fighting to keep from sinking back into my thoughts—but then Sierra walked in. The look on her face said everything.
"What happened?" she asked in a soft tone.
"I don't know what Oliver feels for me… or what I feel for him," I admitted, my voice soft and low.
"And are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes… But also no. I'm scared."
"Scared of what?"
"That I won't be able to handle it. And if he hurts me again… I'm not sure I'll survive it."
Dylan couldn't resist—he brought popcorn as if we were in the middle of a drama series.
"Keep going; this is better than TV," he muttered.
"It's not funny."
"If it weren't so sad, maybe it would be." His sarcasm faded, and when he looked at me again, there was tenderness in his eyes. Something he usually kept hidden.
Then, almost under his breath: "It's hard to see you like this… I'm not indifferent."
I looked up, surprised. I hadn't expected that from him.
"I'll be late for class if I don't leave now."
They both looked at me with concern but said nothing. I stood and left. I didn't want to hear more.
I hurried to get ready, then drove out. A part of me still hoped to see Jace. He feels like my anchor in this spinning world.
It wasn't love. It wasn't an attraction. Just… a quiet moment amid the noise.
Maybe that's why I can't choose—because my heart is too afraid to feel again.
The road was slick with last night's rain, but I hardly paid attention. Until I saw it—a deer. Standing too still. Too real.
It stood in the middle of the road, eyes wide, like it could see me.
Something about it felt unnatural, as if it wasn't there at all.
Whenever this happens, it feels like reality itself is testing me.
The metallic screech tore through the silence. Tires screamed. The wheel yanked right—then boom—a crash. Metal dragged. Shattering glass.
My neck snapped back. My chest jolted with shallow, panicked gasps.
A chill climbed my spine. My body screamed without sound.
Had I fallen asleep at the wheel? Or was it another vision?
If that were the case, then who else was in control of me?
My eyelids dropped, reality slipping.
"Were you planning to crash or take a nap?"
His voice. I blinked—and saw him. Dylan. Leaning against the open car door, calm as if none of this were a big deal.
"What are you doing here?" My voice shook.
"I followed you. I figured you'd run off again."
"Run off?"
"From your feelings. From the confusion. From all the shit you're carrying. That deer wasn't even real, was it?"
"I don't know…" I whispered.
"Let me drive. You're in no state to."
His voice remained calm, but worry was evident in his eyes. Somehow, that hurt more than the crash itself.
I nodded without making a sound. He slid into the driver's seat, and I sank back—cut on my forehead, elbow burning.
After a few minutes of silence, he said, "You need to talk to someone."
"I'm trying… but I don't know if anyone wants to listen."
We pulled into school. My legs trembled as I stepped out.
Why is it always him—the one who notices? He's the only one brave enough to ask when everyone else stays silent.
I walked through the hallway, praying I wouldn't fall again.
And then… I saw him.
Jace. Watching me. Not just watching—studying me, like I was a puzzle he was close to solving.
His gaze wasn't angry. It was searching.
"Amelia," he said, approaching. "Can we talk?"
"Sure."
"I saw you yesterday… running off."
"Yeah… I needed air."
"A lot of air, huh?" He half-smiled, half-wounded.
It felt like he could see right through me.
"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to shift the focus.
"Not really. I feel like you're not being honest about your past. And not just yesterday."
Silence. My heartbeat is too fast. My palms are damp.
"I just want to know who cares about me, Amilia," he said in a soft voice. "Not the version you pretend to be when I'm around."
I wanted to tell him everything. To let him see me. But what if he sees what I'm still hiding from myself?
Fear gripped me.
"I can't talk about it right now," I whispered.
And walked inside.
This time, I didn't run from him.
This time, I ran from my truth.
And I know—it will find me again.
Not in the noise of battle.
But in the silence of a breaking heart.