When Tate got home, she couldn't stop thinking about it. The plan. The ridiculous, heartbreaking, possibly genius plan to help Martha and Damien get together.
Was it even wise? Probably not. But it felt necessary. She needed to get Damien out of her system—rip the feelings out like a bad tooth. Maybe then, she could finally breathe again.
She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as her mind ran wild with scenarios. Damien and Martha were already close. Everyone could see that. But she needed them to be closer—not just late-night texts and casual hugs, but something more. A relationship.
The thought made her stomach twist.
"This is insane," she muttered, pressing a pillow over her face.
The real problem? Damien. She didn't want to talk to him, didn't even want to be in the same room with him. Not after everything he'd said. But she knew she'd have to interact with him somehow if she was serious about making this happen. Ugh.
Her eyes drifted toward her study table, where something shiny caught the light. She sat up and walked over.
It was the silver chain with the dove pendant—Allen's birthday gift.
She picked it up gently, running her fingers over the delicate charm. A small smile tugged at her lips. Allen had gone out of his way to get her this. He'd been thoughtful, patient, kind.
Unlike Damien who treated her badly she thought to herself
She clasped the necklace around her neck and stood in front of the mirror, tilting her head as she admired the way it rested just above her collarbone.
"He's always treated me like I mattered," she whispered to her reflection.
She decided to keep the necklace on and wear it to school the next day.
By morning, Tate was still tossing around ideas for her plan. Nothing concrete, but her mind was working on it.
When she walked into the classroom, she spotted Landon and remembered what Mr. Matthew had said about submitting the class list. She made her way over to him.
"Good morning," she said.
"Good morning, Tate," he replied.
"So, about the class list—Mr. Matthew said—"
"I've already submitted it," he cut in before she could finish. "Did it before we all left yesterday."
"Oh… okay," Tate said, nodding.
Landon gave her a teasing smile. "Look at who's finally taking her post seriously."
Tate rolled her eyes and gave him a light shove on the arm before heading to her seat. As she sat down, Martha walked in.
"Morning, babe," Martha said cheerfully.
"Morning, babe," Tate replied, matching her tone with a playful grin.
They both began pulling out their books. Martha's eyes landed on the necklace around Tate's neck.
"That's a nice necklace."
Tate's hand instinctively went to it. "This? Thanks."
Martha narrowed her eyes. "Spill."
Tate laughed. "There's nothing to spill. Allen gave it to me."
Martha raised a brow. "Allen? When?"
"For my birthday," Tate said casually.
"Oh right—you mentioned that. But this is the first time I'm seeing it in person. It's really pretty. Why are you just wearing it now?"
Tate shrugged. "I don't know. Saw it on my desk yesterday and figured, why not?"
Martha gave her a knowing look and winked. "Hmm… if you say so."
Tate chuckled. "Stop."
Before they could say anything else, Mr. Matthew walked into the classroom, calling everyone to attention and greeted the class. "Good morning, everyone."
The murmurs quieted as he jumped straight into the lesson. It moved faster than usual, and soon enough, he closed his book and looked up.
"We're finishing this class early today because I'll be announcing the groupings for your project. There will be four groups in total. Each group must work together and remembered I said it's 40 percent of your final grade," he said.
A wave of low murmuring rolled through the class.
Tate silently begged the universe to show her some mercy. If she could just land in the same group as Martha, that would be enough.
Mr. Matthew began calling names for Group One: "Kira, Nicholas, Promise, Landon…"
Tate listened closely, checking off the names in her head. Hers didn't come up in the first group. Or the second. Or the third.
Okay, that meant she was in the fourth group by default. And—he hadn't called Martha's name either. A small grin crept onto her face.
She leaned toward Martha and whispered, "He hasn't called either of us yet. Looks like we'll be together."
They giggled quietly, excitement bubbling just a bit.
Mr. Matthew continued, "Group Four… Damien."
Tate's smile faded. Her body stiffened.
Damien? How had she not realized his name hadn't come up either?
"…Tate."
Her name snapped her out of her daze.
"…Martha," he added, and continued listing a few other students.
When he was done, he said, "I hope everyone remembers their group. A representative from each should come to my office to collect the topic you'll be working on."
And with that, he walked out.
Tate exhaled slowly, mildly annoyed. So much for keeping her distance. The same group? Really?
The universe had jokes.
Martha nudged her lightly. "Let's go for lunch."
Tate nodded and stood up. "Yeah. Let's go."
As they sat eating lunch, Tate barely tasted her food. The wheels in her head wouldn't stop turning. She didn't want to be anywhere near Damien, but now that they were stuck in the same group, avoiding him was out of the question.
Still… maybe the universe throwing them together wasn't entirely cruel. Maybe this project could actually work in her favor—if she played it right. Maybe it could bring Damien and Martha closer. Romantically.
She found herself blurting, "Martha, what's your dream date?"
Martha blinked, then chuckled. "Dream date? That came out of nowhere."
"I'm just curious," Tate said quickly, trying to sound casual.
Martha thought for a second. "Hmm. A picnic."
"A picnic?" Tate raised a brow.
"Yeah," Martha said, a small smile playing on her lips. "It'd be nice. Something simple. Lying on a blanket, good food, talking about random stuff, maybe watching the sky."
Tate nodded. "That sounds… peaceful."
She stored the info away like it was top-secret intel
"What's your favorite food?" Tate added, casually.
Martha gave her a teasing look. "Are you trying to take me on a date or something?"
Tate rolled her eyes. "No."
"Well, I wouldn't mind," Martha said with a laugh. "And honestly, I'm not that picky with food. As long as it tastes good, I'm in."
"Noted."
Tate took another bite of her food, already brainstorming ways to pass this information to Damien. Maybe he could use it. Maybe he'd the information to make a move. Maybe—
"Do you still want to sit here?" Martha asked, interrupting her thoughts. "I want to head to Mr. Matthew's office and grab our topic."
"I'll stay," Tate replied She needed time to think. To plot.
After a few minutes, the cafeteria started to feel stuffy, so she decided to get some air. She made her way outside toward the football field. A couple of students were kicking a ball around, laughing loudly,
Then she spotted him.
Damien.
Sitting alone on the bleachers, elbows on his knees, watching the field with a blank expression. He looked like a different person,he didn't look that the person that broke her heart with what he said at the night of the winter ball
Tate's first instinct was to turn back. And she did—halfway. But then she stopped, stuck in place, her feet not quite moving. Should she talk to him? Should she say something? Maybe this was her chance to slip in Martha's picnic idea.
A sharp voice shouted, "Heads up!"
She turned just in time to see a football flying straight at her.
Wham.
The ball slammed right into her forehead.
Everything went white for a second.
Then—nothing.