Chapter 17

Lila had always known how to move through a party.

It was muscle memory by now, the way she adjusted her smile before stepping inside, the way her shoulders loosened as soon as the music hit her chest. Parties were choreography. Noise, bodies, attention. She’d learned early how to belong in the middle of all of it without really giving anything away.

Tonight, though, the air felt different.

Not heavier. Sharper.

Like everything mattered more than it was supposed to.

The bass thudded through Evan’s house as Lila crossed the threshold, laughter spilling out in uneven waves. Someone shouted her name almost immediately. Someone else brushed her arm. She smiled back automatically, handed off her jacket, accepted a drink she didn’t plan on finishing.

And then she saw Rowan.

Rowan Hale stood near the back of the living room, half-shadowed, red cup hanging loose in her hand. She looked… different. Less armored. The rigid edge Lila had come to associate with her was dulled tonight, softened by low light and the way she leaned slightly into the group around her instead of standing apart from it.

There was a girl standing close to her.

Too close to be accidental.

The girl laughed at something Rowan said, head tilted, eyes bright with interest. Rowan smiled back. Easy, unforced. The sight sent something sharp through Lila’s chest before she could stop it.

Jealousy, she realized. Clean and undeniable.

She didn’t turn away.

Instead, she walked.

Not fast. Not defensive. She moved through the room like she belonged exactly where she was, aware of eyes following her, of attention shifting as she passed. Normally, she would’ve leaned into it, played with it, used it.

Tonight, it felt hollow.

A guy brushed past her deliberately, fingers grazing her waist. Lila stepped aside without even looking at him, her focus never leaving Rowan.

By the time she reached them, the girl was still talking, still invested. Rowan laughed again, but her gaze drifted, found Lila and stayed there.

Something in Rowan’s expression changed. Not dramatically. Just enough.

The girl noticed. They always did when Rowan’s attention shifted like that.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” the girl said, already retreating, smile thinning.

Rowan nodded, polite, distant now. She didn’t look back.

“You look like you’re scouting escape routes,” Lila said lightly, stopping just inside Rowan’s space.

Rowan huffed. “You look like you’re pretending this is fun.”

“Am I convincing?”

“For everyone else,” Rowan said. “Yeah.”

They stood there, shoulders nearly touching. The closeness felt intentional, weighted. Not the charged hostility of earlier weeks, not the brittle tension of almosts and maybes but something steadier. Something that hummed low under Lila’s skin.

Around them, the party kept moving. Someone yelled for another song. A couple stumbled past, already tangled together, laughing like nothing could touch them.

Lila didn’t look away.

She wanted Rowan to see that she was here. That she wasn’t hiding. That she wasn’t drifting anymore.

A guy she vaguely recognized from another school stepped up beside her, confidence worn smooth from practice. “You’re Lila Moreno, right? Cheer captain?”

She turned, polite smile already in place. “Yeah.”

“Wanna dance?”

Before she could answer, before she’d even decided what she wanted to say, Rowan spoke.

“She’s not dancing tonight.”

The words weren’t loud. They weren’t sharp. They landed anyway.

The guy blinked, confusion flickering across his face as he looked between them. “Oh. Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Lila didn’t correct him.

She didn’t smile either.

The guy retreated quickly, interest evaporating into awkward understanding.

For a beat, the space between Lila and Rowan felt too exposed.

Rowan’s jaw tightened, as if she’d only just realized what she’d done. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You did,” Lila said gently, turning fully toward her.

Rowan searched her face, something uncertain breaking through her usual control. “Is that okay?”

Lila held her gaze, steady, heart pounding but calm. “I wouldn’t have let you say it if it wasn’t.”

Something eased in Rowan’s expression. Relief, yes, but also something softer. Like she hadn’t known she was allowed to take up that kind of space.

They didn’t touch.

They didn’t have to.

They stayed where they were, close enough that people hesitated before approaching. A few tried anyway. Smiles, jokes, casual flirting, but they faded quickly, reading what wasn’t being announced out loud.

Lila felt it settle in her chest then.

Not ownership.

Recognition.

Later, they slipped out onto the back porch, the cool night air brushing against Lila’s overheated skin. The music dulled behind the door, replaced by distant laughter and the quiet hum of insects. The stars felt far away, like something observed rather than reached.

Rowan leaned against the railing, staring out into the yard. “I don’t hate parties,” she said after a moment. “I just hate pretending I’m available when I’m not.”

Lila watched her profile, the tension in her jaw, the way her shoulders still held so much even when she tried to relax. “You don’t look available,” she said softly.

Rowan turned to her, eyes open and unguarded. “Good.”

The word lingered between them.

They stood there without touching, close enough that Lila could feel Rowan’s warmth, the steady presence of her. It wasn’t restraint anymore. It was intention.

Lila realized then that the possessiveness she’d been feeling wasn’t about fear or insecurity. It wasn’t about controlling who Rowan talked to or where she stood.

It was about clarity.

About knowing what she wanted and no longer pretending she didn’t.

Rowan met her gaze, something mutual passing silently between them. No promises. No declarations. Just understanding.

And for the first time in a long while, Lila didn’t feel like she was waiting for Rowan to catch up.

She felt like they were standing in the same place.

Together.