Ivey's Pov
Walking through the school doors felt like stepping into a different world.
Nothing had changed —the same halls, the same lockers, the same posters that had been curling at the edges for weeks. But it felt different. Or maybe I just did.
Lucas walked beside me, moving a little slower than usual. He hadn't ditched the arm sling yet, and every few steps he'd wince like he forgot he was still recovering. People stared. Whispered. Not in a mean way, just... curious. Like we were a mystery that had unfolded while they weren't looking.
He didn't say much. But the way he stayed close, the way our hands brushed but didn't quite hold—it said enough.
Kayla was waiting near my locker, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.
"Well, look who's alive," she said as we approached, her tone light but her eyes searching Lucas's face. "You planning on not getting into any more fights this week?"
Lucas gave her a lopsided smile. "No promises."
"Seriously, though," she said, more gently now. "It's good to see you back."
"Thanks," he said, quieter this time.
She glanced between the two of us, smirked slightly, and then raised her eyebrows like she wanted answers but wasn't going to ask in front of everyone.
People passed by in small clusters, some nodding at Lucas, some looking like they wanted to say something but didn't. I watched his shoulders tense just slightly each time. He never liked being the center of attention, and now he was walking around school like some kind of bruised legend - like there was some kind of huge spotlight on him - on us.
When the bell rang, we split off for class. I hesitated for a second—just long enough for Lucas to notice.
"I'll be fine," he said, like he knew what I was thinking.
I nodded and left, but something tugged at me all morning. The feeling that something had shifted. Not just between Lucas and me, but in the way people looked at us, like they could tell. Like whatever we had—whatever we were turning into—was written all over our faces.
At lunch, I didn't sit where I usually did. That table—the one with Josh and all the noise—wasn't mine anymore. I slid into the seat next to Lucas instead, and for a moment, the whole cafeteria seemed to shift. Kayla, Liam, and a few others joined us, trying to keep things light, but the conversation kept circling back to what happened. Lucas gave vague answers. I stayed quiet. He didn't owe anyone the full story, especially not today.
After a while, Kayla leaned in close and whispered, "You good?"
I nodded. "Yeah. Just… figuring stuff out."
She looked over at Lucas, who was talking to Liam about something that I wasn't paying enough attention to focus on what he was saying. Then she looked back at me. "You two are kinda… different now."
"Different how?"
"I don't know," she said, then smiled a little. "Softer."
That word stuck with me for the rest of the day.
Softer.
Maybe that's what this was. Not love. Not yet. But something softer. Something safer.
Lucas's Pov
Walking through the school doors again felt...off. Like everything was where I left it, but everything was different.
The halls buzzed with whispers. I caught fragments—"fight," "hospital," "Josh"—like static in a badly tuned radio. I ignored them. Or tried to.
At lunch, I sat down first. Middle of the table, out of habit. Then I remembered—this wasn't the same table Ivey used to sit at. That one was across the cafeteria, the one Josh always claimed like a throne.
But she came to me. No hesitation. Just sat down beside me like that's where she belonged. And maybe, now, she did.
Liam gave me a nod, the kind that said I got your back but I'm not going to make a thing of it. Kayla raised an eyebrow at Ivey like she wanted answers, but didn't push. A few others tagged along, talking too loud, trying to fill the silence.
They meant well.
But every conversation tilted toward what happened. I gave the edited version—cut out the part where I thought I might not get back up, skipped the part where Ivey curled up beside me in that hospital bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I glanced at her. She hadn't said much, just picked at her food, nodding occasionally like she was somewhere else.
We caught eyes for a second. I didn't smile. Neither did she. But something passed between us, steady and quiet.
After a while, the noise at the table started to fade around us. We didn't owe anyone the full story.
The truth was already sitting in the space between us, unspoken—but real.
The rest of the day moved slow. People stared. Teachers gave me weird looks, like they weren't sure if they should say something or pretend nothing had happened.
By fourth period, I was exhausted.
Then it happened.
I was heading to my locker after class when I saw him. Josh. Standing by the water fountain like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't nearly broken my face just a few days ago.
He didn't look like he was just in a fight — no scratch, no bandages, and no casts.
He looked at me. I looked back.
He didn't say anything. Just smirked, it was like he was daring me to do something.
I didn't.
I wasn't afraid. But I wasn't stupid either. My face was still healing, and punching him again wouldn't fix anything. So I just walked past him.
His voice followed me. "Still hiding?"
I stopped.
But I didn't turn around. "Not hiding," I said quietly. "Just moving on. You should try it sometime."
And then I kept walking.
After school, I found Ivey waiting outside near the bike racks. She didn't have to say anything—just handed me her extra hoodie because I'd left mine in my locker and the wind had picked up.
We went to my house. Mom was still at work, and Ava was staying at a friend's house because neither me or my mom would be able to pick her up.
The place felt quiet in a good way.
We didn't talk much at first. I set up a board game—something old and a little stupid. The kind with way too many pieces and barely any rules. I figured it'd be a good distraction.
Half an hour later, I was losing. Badly.
"Beat you again," Ivey grinned, leaning back against the couch and tossing a card dramatically onto the table. "Honestly, this is getting embarrassing for you."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "You've played this before."
"I have not," she said, clearly lying. "You're just bad."
"Or you're cheating."
"Or," she said, raising an eyebrow, "you're sore because you're used to winning and I'm ruining your fragile ego."
I laughed, even though it pulled at my ribs. "Okay. That's fair."
She smirked but her eyes softened a little when I winced. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I said, rubbing my side. "Totally worth the pain to be humbled so thoroughly."
"Glad I could help," she said, then leaned forward to reset the pieces for another round.
After that we watched some movie we'd both seen before, not really paying attention.
Ivey shifted closer. She tucked her feet up under herself and leaned over slowly, like she wasn't sure it was okay, then she rested her head against my shoulder.
I didn't move. Didn't even breathe for a second. Just let the weight of her settle there.
My arm slipped around her without thinking.
She didn't pull away. She just stayed like that.
And in that quiet, I stopped thinking about the bruises or what people at school were saying or even Josh. All I could feel was her warmth next to mine, the way our breathing started to sync up again like it had that night in the hospital.
Safe. Steady. Simple.
And maybe I didn't need anything more than that.
Ivey's Pov
I didn't mean to fall into him like that. One minute we were laughing over his loss, and the next… my head was on his shoulder. And he didn't move. Just wrapped his arm around me.
The movie was still playing, but I couldn't have told you a single thing that was happening. All I could focus on was the rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his arm around me, the way he smelled faintly like clean laundry and hospital soap.
I didn't want to move. Not just because he was comfortable, but because something about it — about us — felt still for the first time in days. No chaos, no questions. Just… quiet.
But of course, reality had to come crashing back.
The sound of the front door opening shattered the calm.
Lucas stiffened slightly beneath me, and I immediately sat up, brushing my hair behind my ears like that somehow made me look less obvious.
Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Then, a voice.
"Lucas? I'm home! I brought—oh."
His mom appeared in the doorway, holding a grocery bag in one hand, her eyebrows raised slightly when she saw the two of us still on the couch.
Lucas stood up quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey, Mom."
I got to my feet too, trying not to look like I'd just been caught doing something I wasn't supposed to. "Hi, Mrs. West."
She gave me a small, amused smile, then walked over to set the bag on the kitchen counter. "I didn't realize you had company. It's good to see you, Ivey. You've been here a lot lately."
I nodded, my face warming. "Yeah, um… I just wanted to make sure he's okay. After, you know…"
She turned, giving Lucas a quick look. "Well, he looks better with some color in his face. I'm glad someone's been keeping him in line while I was out."
Lucas muttered, "She's been beating me at card games and bullying me mercilessly."
His mom chuckled and shot me a wink. "Good. He needs that."
The tension in the room eased a little. She started unpacking groceries, chatting casually about some neighbor drama and a weird guy at the store who tried to cut in line. Lucas relaxed beside me, and I felt myself start to breathe normally again.
Eventually, she looked over her shoulder. "You staying for dinner, Ivey?"
"I—" I started, but Lucas cut in.
"She should."
I glanced at him, surprised by the certainty in his voice.
His mom smiled like she already knew what was going on. "We'd love to have you. There's plenty."
I nodded slowly. "Okay. Sure. If it's not a bother."
"Not at all. Besides," she said, pulling out a box of pasta, "I want to hear how bad you beat him."
I laughed a little, and Lucas rolled his eyes.
Dinner smelled like comfort. Garlic, fresh basil, and the sizzle of something on the stove made the kitchen feel less like someone else's house and more like a place I belonged… at least a little.
Lucas sat across from me at the table, still looking a little pale but definitely more alive than he had at the hospital. His mom moved around the kitchen like she was building something important.
"Don't get used to this," she said with a grin as she plated pasta. "Normally it's frozen pizza or cereal."
Lucas smirked. "She's only pretending to be a real mom because you're here."
I laughed, even though I could tell from the affection in his mom's eyes that he didn't really mean it.
The three of us sat down. Lucas's mom had set out mismatched plates and a chipped salad bowl that looked like it had survived a few too many family dinners. Somehow, it made everything feel more real.
"So," she said after a few bites, "Ivey, how long have you and Lucas known each other?"
Lucas looked up quickly, almost like he wanted to intercept the question. I answered instead.
"Since school started, really. We just… sort of ended up in each other's path."
Lucas's mom raised an eyebrow. "Path, huh?"
Lucas rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "She means I kept bothering her until she couldn't get rid of me."
I shrugged. "That too."
Conversation floated easily. We talked about classes, and how Lucas had been a nightmare patient, and how apparently Kayla had already texted Lucas's mom asking how he was doing — twice.
But under the small talk, there was something else growing. A quiet understanding. The kind that doesn't need defining.
After dinner, Lucas's mom brought out a tub of ice cream and told us we had to finish it because she was "sick of seeing it take up space." We did — sitting in the living room again, the movie still paused where we'd left it earlier.
Lucas nudged my foot under the coffee table.
"Thanks," he said quietly, his eyes meeting mine.
"For what?"
"For not making all this feel weird."
I smiled. "It's weird?"
"Yeah. But less with you."
We didn't go back to the movie. We just sat there, half-watching the melting ice cream, half-listening to his mom washing dishes in the background. My foot stayed touching his.
Lucas's Pov
She was still here.
I could hear my mom humming softly from the kitchen — a sound that used to bug me when I was younger, but tonight, it felt... familiar. I glanced at Ivey sitting next to me on the couch, her legs pulled up under her, one hand still clutching the edge of her empty ice cream bowl.
We hadn't gone back to the movie. We hadn't needed to. It felt like we were on pause, but not in a bad way. Like the quiet between songs you don't want to end.
I shifted slightly, letting my foot nudge hers again. She didn't pull away.
"That was good," I said. "The food. The ice cream. Everything."
Ivey looked at me, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Told you hospital food was going to ruin your standards."
I chuckled. "You might be right."
We lapsed into silence again, but not the awkward kind. I could feel the warmth of her next to me, the way her presence filled the room in a way even the TV couldn't.
Then, slowly — like she wasn't even thinking about it — Ivey leaned her head onto my shoulder.
And something inside me just... settled.
My chest loosened. My hands stopped fidgeting. My brain, which had been buzzing nonstop since the fight, finally let go.
She didn't speak, didn't explain. She just fit there, like maybe this had been waiting to happen all along.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and rested my cheek lightly against her hair. Her shampoo smelled like something clean and soft — and I hoped she couldn't hear how hard my heart was pounding.
In the kitchen, the water shut off. My mom stepped into the room a second later, drying her hands on a dish towel. She stopped in the doorway.
Her eyes landed on us.
Ivey sat up quickly, brushing her hair behind her ear like she'd been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to.
I stayed still, fighting the heat rising in my face.
But my mom just smiled.
"I'm heading to bed," she said lightly. "You two okay down here?"
Ivey nodded. "Yeah. Thanks again for dinner."
"Anytime, sweetheart." My mom paused, looked at me, then added, "Don't stay up too late. You're still healing, remember?"
"Got it," I muttered.
She left. I listened to her footsteps fading. Ivey let out a breath beside me.
"I feel like I got caught making out in someone else's house," she whispered.
I laughed under my breath. "Yeah. Except you weren't."
"Right. Definitely not," she echoed, but her voice was light. Teasing.
We glanced at each other — and for a second, it felt like maybe we were both thinking about what would've happened if we had been.
I looked away first. Not because I wanted to. Just because it was suddenly harder to breathe.
"I should probably head home soon," Ivey said, pulling her knees down off the couch.
I stood up, ready to grab her things and walk her to the door. But as I did, I felt her hand brush against mine, the touch light, almost accidental. But when I glanced down, she didn't pull away.
Her fingers lingered, just for a second, before she looked up at me. There was a softness in her eyes that I hadn't seen before. I held my breath, not sure what was happening, but I didn't move, didn't try to pull away either.
I didn't need to. There was no hurry. There was no tension. Just the simple, honest touch that said something without words.
And then she smiled, just a little, like she was as surprised as I was that it felt so right.
I let my hand rest there for a moment, just enough to let the contact last, before I finally broke the silence. "I'll grab your stuff."
But neither of us rushed. Neither of us pulled away.
Ivey's Pov
As I stood up to grab my things, I could feel the quiet tension between us, that invisible thread pulling me back to him. But neither of us said anything, not yet.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked, breaking the silence, not sure if I was asking him or reminding myself.
His eyes met mine. "Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good."
I picked up my bag, my hand brushing his again, but this time it didn't linger. I don't want to overdo it.
"Good night, Lucas," I said softly, turning to the door.
"Good night, Ivey," he replied.
I walked out the door, knowing that the silence between us wasn't awkward, just… a space where things could grow, without rush.
Lucas's Pov
As the door clicked shut behind her, I sat there for a moment, still feeling the weight of her presence lingering in the room. I couldn't quite explain it, but something shifted inside me when Ivey left. It wasn't just that we had finally acknowledged what had been building between us, but something deeper.
It felt like we were standing at the edge of something. The air was thick with possibilities, and all I could do was breathe it in, hoping I wasn't about to fall off that edge.
I leaned back against the couch, letting the silence settle around me. I didn't want to overthink it. I wasn't sure what had shifted, but I knew I wasn't going to forget that night, or the look in her eyes when she left.
And I also couldn't stop thinking about what Ivey had said - I feel like I got caught making out in someone else's house - I couldn;t help but wonder. What if we were? Would all my overthinking right now be gone? Or would new problems come?
The sound of the front door creaking open brought me out of my thoughts, and I looked up, expecting to see Mom. Sure enough, she came in a moment later, her bag slung over her shoulder, and a tired but warm smile on her face.
"Hey" she said, her voice gentle as she shut the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"
I sat up a little straighter, trying to push down the swirl of emotions still bouncing around in my chest. "Better, I guess," I said. "Just… a little weird, you know?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"
"I don't know," I muttered "Like things aren't the same. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do next."
"Take it one step at a time," she advised, walking over and setting down her bag. "You've been through a lot, Lucas. It's okay if it takes a little while to figure things out."
I nodded, but my thoughts were still with Ivey. I didn't have the answers, not yet. But I couldn't shake the feeling that I wanted to see where this thing between us went.