Chapter 13

By the time Thursday arrived, Lila Moreno was exhausted in a way sleep didn’t touch.

It wasn’t physical. Practice was the same as always, counting, lifting, catching, smiling on cue. Her body knew how to do that without her. The exhaustion lived somewhere deeper, lodged under her ribs, a dull ache that flared every time she thought about Rowan Hale.

Which was constantly.

Lila had tried being angry. That had been easier at first—sharper, cleaner. Anger gave her something to hold onto. It let her tell herself that Rowan was exactly who she’d always thought she was cold, controlled, obsessed with appearances. Someone who would flirt with guys just to prove a point. Someone who would look at Lila like she mattered and then act like it meant nothing.

But anger didn’t last.

It cracked, slowly, into something quieter and worse.

Hurt.

She saw Rowan everywhere now. In the hallways, cutting through crowds like they parted for her instinctively. On the field after school, commanding attention without ever asking for it. In the cafeteria, laughing with teammates, elbow resting casually on the table like she didn’t carry tension in every line of her body.

And sometimes way too often surrounded by boys.

Lila hated how much that part got to her.

She hated the jealousy because it felt ugly and unearned. Rowan wasn’t hers. Rowan had never been hers. Whatever existed between them had lived in looks held too long, words sharpened into weapons, moments that hovered on the edge of something honest and then retreated.

Still, it hurt in a way Lila couldn’t logic away.

Thursday afternoon, she stayed late in the cheer room, redoing a routine that didn’t actually need fixing. The music played low from her phone, the beat steady, grounding. She counted under her breath, movements sharp, precise. Control. She could always find control here.

Her phone buzzed.

She ignored it.

It buzzed again.

With a sigh, she stopped the music and glanced down. Jess.

you coming to evan’s party tomorrow?

Lila stared at the screen longer than necessary.

She already knew Rowan would be there.

She’d heard it in the locker room—teammates talking, laughing, someone mentioning Rowan might show up with a guy from one of the other schools. The words had landed like a punch she hadn’t seen coming.

Lila typed, erased, typed again.

maybe

Jess responded immediately.

you should come. don’t disappear.

Lila locked her phone and set it face-down on the bench.

Disappear. That was tempting.

Instead, she sat there in the quiet, elbows on her knees, staring at the floor. She let herself think the thought she’d been avoiding all week.

She missed Rowan.

Not the version of Rowan that postured and deflected and flirted with boys she clearly didn’t even like. Not the captain, or the image, or the armor.

She missed the Rowan who had looked at her like Lila was a problem worth solving. The Rowan who had argued with her like it mattered. The Rowan whose attention had felt dangerous because it had been real.

That realization settled heavy in her chest.

Lila had known first. She’d known early. She’d felt the shift back when irritation had started turning into awareness, when competition had sharpened into something electric. She’d recognized it for what it was long before Rowan ever had.

And she was tired of being the only one holding that truth.

The next day passed in fragments. Classes blurred. Practice felt distant. By the time Friday evening arrived, Lila stood in front of her mirror longer than usual, tugging at the hem of her top, then letting it fall back into place.

She wasn’t dressing for Rowan, she told herself.

She didn’t know who she was dressing for.

The house was already loud when she arrived. Music pulsed through the walls, bass heavy enough to rattle her ribs. Lila stepped inside, the familiar wash of heat and noise hitting her all at once. Faces she knew, faces she didn’t. Laughter, shouting, spilled drinks.

She spotted Jess near the kitchen and headed that way, accepting a cup she didn’t really want just to have something in her hands.

“Glad you came,” Jess said, bumping her shoulder. “You, okay?”

“Yeah,” Lila lied easily. “Just tired.”

She tried to relax. Tried to let herself exist in the moment. People flirted around her, eyes lingering, smiles suggestive. Normally, she would’ve played along without thinking. Tonight, it all felt distant, like she was watching through glass.

Then she saw Rowan.

Rowan stood near the back of the living room, one arm braced against the wall, a guy leaning in close, talking animatedly. Rowan smiled at something he said—not wide, not real, but enough. Enough to make something inside Lila go cold.

Rowan looked uncomfortable. Anyone who knew her would see it. The way her shoulders were tense, the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

But the guy didn’t notice.

And Lila did.

Their eyes met across the room.

For half a second, everything stilled.

Rowan’s smile faltered. Her gaze sharpened, like she hadn’t expected Lila to be there. Like she hadn’t prepared for this.

Lila held her look, refusing to look away first.

Then Rowan turned back to the guy.

Something in Lila fractured quietly.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t storm out. She didn’t confront Rowan or make a scene.

She simply felt the weight of it settle in.

This was what it meant, she realized. This was what it looked like when someone chose safety over truth. When they wanted something but weren’t brave enough to reach for it.

Lila took a breath, steadying herself.

She deserved better than almost. 

Even if it meant walking away from the one person she hadn’t wanted to lose.