Chapter 14

Rowan Hale had perfected the art of looking comfortable while wanting to crawl out of her own skin.

The guy beside her, Mark, she thought his name was, or maybe Matt was talking about something she didn’t care about. College prospects. A party last summer. A joke that didn’t land but earned a polite laugh anyway. Rowan nodded at the right moments, smiled when expected, leaned casually against the wall like this was easy.

It wasn’t.

Her body felt wrong in a way she couldn’t explain. Too aware. Too tight. Every laugh felt forced, every second stretched thin. She hated how obvious the script was: popular guy, popular girl, easy chemistry everyone assumed made sense.

This was what she was supposed to want.

So why did it feel like lying?

Her eyes drifted across the room before she could stop herself.

Lila stood near the kitchen, cup in hand, posture deceptively relaxed. She looked unreal—sharp and soft all at once, eyes darker than usual, mouth set like she was holding something back. For a split second, Rowan thought Lila might come over. Might interrupt. Might say something cutting or sharp or honest.

Instead, Lila just looked at her.

The disappointment in her eyes hit harder than any insult could have.

Rowan’s chest tightened.

She turned back to the guy beside her, forcing herself to stay present. This was fine. This was normal. This was easier than dealing with the mess Lila brought out of her.

“You, okay?” he asked, leaning closer, voice almost drowned out by the music.

“Yeah,” Rowan said quickly. “Just loud in here.”

He smiled, clearly encouraged, and said something else she didn’t hear because her attention was already slipping again, back to Lila, who was now laughing at something Jess said, head tipped back slightly.

It shouldn’t have hurt.

It did.

Rowan excused herself under the pretense of grabbing a drink, weaving through bodies until she reached the quieter hallway near the bathroom. She leaned her head back against the wall, eyes closing briefly.

What are you doing? she thought.

She already knew the answer. Hiding. Performing. Choosing the path that required the least amount of honesty.

The worst part was that none of it made the feeling go away.

She opened her eyes just as someone stepped into the hallway.

Lila.

They froze when they saw each other, the noise of the party dulling into a distant thrum. Up close, Lila looked more composed than Rowan felt, but there was something brittle beneath it, something carefully restrained.

“Hey,” Rowan said, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

“Hey,” Lila replied. Her tone was neutral. Too neutral.

Silence stretched.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Rowan said finally.

Lila raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know I needed an invitation.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” Lila’s mouth curved, but there was no humor in it. “You look… busy.”

Rowan swallowed. “It’s not—”

“Don’t,” Lila interrupted, quietly but firmly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

That stung more than anger would have.

“I wasn’t flirting,” Rowan said anyway, words tumbling out too fast. “I mean—I was, but not because I wanted to. I just—”

Lila watched her, expression unreadable. “You don’t have to convince me.”

“I’m trying to convince myself,” Rowan admitted.

That landed.

Lila’s shoulders softened almost imperceptibly. “Why?”

Rowan laughed once, sharp and humorless. “Because it’s easier to pretend I want what everyone expects than admit I want something that scares me.”

Lila searched her face. “And what is it you want?”

The question hung between them, heavy and dangerous.

Rowan’s heart pounded. She could still back out. Still make a joke. Still keep this clean and unfinished.

Instead, she said the truth.

“You.”

The word felt like stepping off a ledge.

Lila inhaled slowly. “Then why does it look like you’re trying so hard to want anything else?”

Rowan had no good answer.

“I’m bad at this,” she said quietly. “At wanting something I can’t control.”

Lila nodded, eyes shining with something that wasn’t quite forgiveness. “I know. I just didn’t realize how much it would hurt to watch.”

The honesty in her voice cracked something open in Rowan’s chest.

“I don’t want him,” Rowan said. “Or anyone else. I just don’t know how to stop being afraid.”

Lila stepped closer. Not touching. Just close enough that Rowan could feel her presence, grounding and unsteady all at once.

“I don’t need you fearless,” Lila said. “I need you honest.”

Rowan met her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Lila held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded once. “Then stop acting like you already have.”

The music swelled suddenly, the party surging back into focus. Someone laughed nearby. A door slammed.

They stood there, inches apart, tension humming between them—not resolved, not broken, but finally named.

For the first time all night, Rowan felt like she was standing on solid ground.

Even if it was still terrifying.