---
**Part 1 – "The Distance Between Us"**
The week after Lena and Jace's quiet conversation in the library moved like a slow tide—steadily, almost imperceptibly, but impossible to ignore.
They weren't exactly a couple. Not yet.
But something had changed.
The way Lena looked at him now—less guarded, more searching. The way Jace waited an extra second before leaving a room she was in, like he didn't want to miss something. The way their conversations held longer silences, not because there was nothing to say, but because the silence itself felt like enough.
It wasn't perfect. Lena still flinched at small kindnesses sometimes. Jace still had the frustrating habit of hiding real concern behind a joke. But both of them, in their own slow, unpracticed way, were trying.
And in high school, where most things burned fast and disappeared even faster, that alone felt extraordinary.
---
Monday brought rain. Thick, gray clouds pressed down on the town, and every hallway in Lincoln High seemed dimmer than usual, the fluorescents casting pale, sickly glows on the tile.
Lena stood at her locker, watching raindrops stream down the windows across the hall. The air smelled like damp notebooks and forgotten lunches. She had math next—her least favorite—and no umbrella.
"Hey," came a voice beside her. Familiar. Quiet.
She turned to find Jace, already soaked, dark hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his hoodie.
"You walked in this?" she asked, surprised.
He shrugged, flashing that crooked grin. "Thought the dramatic entrance might impress you."
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Try a roof next time. Maybe throw in a lightning bolt."
"Duly noted."
He leaned against the locker beside hers, their shoulders nearly touching. "You going to the assembly later?"
Lena grimaced. "The one about college prep and post-grad planning?"
"Yep. The one where they pretend like we all know what we're doing with our lives."
"I was planning on skipping."
"Same," he said. "But I figured if I'm gonna daydream, might as well do it next to someone interesting."
She tried not to smile too much. "So now I'm interesting."
"You've always been interesting," he said, a little too sincere, and then looked away like he regretted it.
Lena felt her stomach twist.
"I'll go," she said. "With you."
---
The auditorium was half full, most students slumped in their chairs or whispering under their breath. The speaker at the front clicked through a slideshow titled *Pathways to Your Future*, complete with stock images of smiling graduates and inspirational quotes.
Lena and Jace sat near the back.
By the fifth slide, he leaned over and whispered, "I give it three minutes before she quotes Steve Jobs."
Lena snorted. "I'll take that bet."
Sure enough, two slides later: *"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life." — Steve Jobs.*
Jace pumped a fist like he'd scored a goal. "Called it."
Lena laughed and shook her head. "You're the worst."
"And yet you're still sitting here."
She nudged him with her elbow. "Only because you tricked me."
"I didn't trick you. I offered you boredom with company. Totally honest."
Their quiet laughter earned them a glare from the row in front. They hushed but didn't stop smiling.
As the presentation dragged on, Lena's thoughts wandered. College. The future. What she wanted. What she feared.
She looked at Jace beside her—hair still damp, pen doodling on the back of a worksheet, long fingers tapping the edge of his chair. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't just thinking about *getting out*—she was wondering what it would be like if he was there too.
Not as a fantasy.
But for real.
---
After the assembly, they stepped outside into the now-drizzling afternoon.
Jace pulled his hood back up. "Need a ride?"
"I was gonna walk," Lena said, glancing at the puddles forming along the curb. "But… yeah. That'd be great."
They climbed into his car, which smelled faintly like coffee and pine-scented air freshener. He turned the heat on low, and they sat for a moment, not quite ready to leave.
Lena watched the windshield wipers move back and forth. "Do you ever think about what it's going to be like after this?"
He glanced over. "After high school?"
"Yeah."
"All the time," he said. "And then I stop, because it makes my brain short-circuit."
She laughed softly. "Same."
They sat with that thought for a while. Then Lena said, "My mom wants me to apply to this journalism program in New York. She thinks it'll help me get out. That I need to start over somewhere new."
Jace didn't speak right away. "Do you want to go?"
"I don't know," Lena admitted. "I've always said I did. But lately..."
He nodded, eyes on the road. "Lately feels different."
"Yeah."
She turned to him. "What about you?"
He hesitated. "I'm thinking about taking a year off. Working, saving. Maybe figure things out before I jump into something I'm not ready for."
She didn't expect that. "That's smart."
"It just feels like everyone's racing toward something, and I don't even know what I want yet."
Lena exhaled. "That's how I feel too."
Their eyes met. Something quiet passed between them. Not romantic. Not yet. Just real.
"I like this," she said.
"What?"
"This. Us. Talking."
Jace smiled. "Yeah. Me too."
---
They ended up at a diner after driving aimlessly for a bit—one of those places with cracked vinyl booths and laminated menus sticky with syrup. They ordered fries and milkshakes and didn't talk about school or futures or what they were supposed to be.
Instead, they talked about childhood memories, bad movies, weird dreams. Lena told him about the time she got stuck in a locker during a game of hide and seek in seventh grade. Jace shared how he accidentally flooded the science lab trying to make a volcano model more "realistic."
Their laughter felt effortless. The kind that loosened knots she didn't know she still carried.
Halfway through the second basket of fries, Jace looked at her and said, "I never thought we'd end up here. Like this."
Lena dipped a fry in ketchup. "You mean, not actively plotting each other's destruction?"
He grinned. "Exactly."
She smiled back, but then her expression sobered. "It scares me sometimes."
"What does?"
"How easy it is to care about you now."
Jace didn't answer immediately. He just looked at her—really looked—and then reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers. Not a full touch. Just a nudge. A question.
She didn't pull away.
"I care about you too, Lena," he said softly.
There it was. No drama. No fireworks.
Just truth.
And that was enough to make her chest ache in the best way.
---
Later, as he pulled up outside her house, Lena lingered with her hand on the door handle.
"Thanks for today," she said.
"Thanks for coming."
They didn't kiss.
But Lena leaned over and rested her forehead against his for just a moment. A promise without words.
And then she stepped out into the fading light, rain still whispering on the pavement.
---
---
**Part 2 – "What We Don't Say"**
Lena didn't sleep much that night.
She lay in bed with her headphones in, the soft hum of late-night playlists barely covering the sound of rain still pattering against her window. Her thoughts kept circling back to the way Jace had looked at her in the diner, the careful warmth in his eyes when he'd said, "I care about you too."
It had been simple. Gentle.
But real.
And that scared her more than anything.
Because now there was weight to this—whatever *this* was. It wasn't hypothetical anymore. Not a passing moment between ex-rivals. Not a joke. Not just another conversation. It was building, piece by fragile piece, into something she might not be ready to lose.
At 2:41 AM, she reached for her phone and typed a message to Jace.
> "Can't sleep. Your fault."
She hesitated, then deleted it.
Then retyped it.
Then erased the whole thing and shoved her phone under her pillow with a frustrated groan.
She didn't send it. Not because it wasn't true, but because she didn't know what would happen *after.*
And lately, she'd started to realize—what scared her most wasn't falling. It was the possibility that someone might *not* catch her.
---
The next morning, everything felt... normal.
Almost suspiciously normal.
Her mom was in the kitchen flipping through the news on her phone, her usual mug of tea in hand. The smell of burnt toast lingered like it always did. Her little brother, Max, had already left for school early for band rehearsal. No storms. No fights. No questions.
Just silence.
Lena poured herself a cup of coffee and sat quietly at the counter. Her mom glanced up.
"You're up early," she said.
"Didn't sleep great."
Her mom studied her. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Lena said too quickly. "Fine."
Her mom opened her mouth to say more, then stopped. "Well... don't forget. Application deadline for that writing program's coming up."
Lena nodded. "I know."
That was all. But it stayed in the air between them like a low buzz, even as Lena grabbed her bag and stepped out the door.
---
At school, Jace was already at his locker when she arrived. He looked up, eyes flicking to her instantly like he'd been waiting.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey."
The hallway swarmed with early-morning noise—footsteps, shouting, lockers slamming. But they stood still in the middle of it, both unsure what to say next.
Finally, Jace broke the silence. "I was gonna text you last night."
She looked at him. "Why didn't you?"
He hesitated. "I figured if you wanted to talk, you would."
Lena gave a small smile. "I almost did."
His eyes softened. "Yeah?"
She nodded.
Before either could say more, the warning bell rang.
"See you in second period?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said, already backing toward her homeroom. "See you."
---
Second period was English. Their desks were still across the aisle from each other—close enough to exchange glances, but not quite close enough to whisper without being obvious.
Mr. Pritchard had them working on a group project analyzing character arcs in *The Crucible*. It was the kind of assignment that forced people into awkward teams and made everyone hate group work all over again.
Lena, Jace, and two other classmates—Heather Martinez and some sophomore named Dylan—were lumped together at the back of the room.
"So, are we supposed to compare characters or something?" Heather asked, flipping aimlessly through her annotated copy.
"Tragic flaws," Lena said. "Why the characters do what they do. How they end up where they end up."
Jace gave her a look. "That sounds suspiciously like you read ahead."
Lena smirked. "Maybe I did."
"Overachiever," he teased under his breath.
Heather rolled her eyes. "Can we just pick someone and start?"
"Abigail," Jace said. "She's the villain, right?"
"She's more complicated than that," Lena countered. "She's manipulative, yeah, but she's also just a kid who's scared. Trying to survive."
Jace tilted his head. "You really think she's sympathetic?"
"I think she's a product of her world," Lena replied. "It doesn't excuse her actions, but it explains them."
Jace blinked. Then nodded. "That's... actually a good point."
Heather made a groaning sound. "Ugh, are you two gonna flirt through this whole thing?"
Lena turned red. "We're not—"
But Jace cut in smoothly. "We're just being *productive*, Heather. Maybe you should try it."
Heather grumbled something about sarcasm and flipped through her notes.
Lena looked at Jace, trying not to smile.
He winked.
And just like that, the storm cloud of awkwardness passed—for now.
---
Later, during lunch, Lena sat with Sara and Jade, picking halfheartedly at a sandwich.
"So," Jade said, voice low, "are you and Jace, like... *a thing* now?"
Lena blinked. "What?"
Sara grinned. "Come on. You guys were practically making heart eyes in English."
"We were *arguing* about literature," Lena said, flustered.
"Yeah, and he was *listening to you* like you were reading the final prophecy," Jade said.
Lena tried to wave it off, but inside, her pulse quickened. "It's not like that. We're... figuring things out."
Sara leaned in, teasing. "Figuring out how not to kiss him every time he talks?"
"Shut up," Lena muttered, but she was smiling now, even if she hated herself for it.
Her friends didn't press further, but their glances said enough.
They saw it. And Lena… maybe she was starting to believe it too.
---
The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, stray glances, and unsent texts.
It wasn't until after school—while waiting for her mom to pick her up—that Lena saw Jace again.
He was sitting on the hood of his car across the parking lot, earbuds in, staring up at the sky like he was trying to read something invisible.
She crossed the lot without thinking.
"Listening to anything good?" she asked.
He pulled one bud out. "Just background noise."
She sat beside him, careful not to slip on the damp metal. "Nice day for existential brooding."
"I'm a man of many moods," he said with a smile.
They sat in silence for a moment, watching the gray clouds roll past.
"I talked to my mom this morning," Lena said suddenly. "She wants me to apply to the writing program."
"Do you think you will?"
Lena shrugged. "Part of me wants to. The other part... doesn't know what it wants."
Jace was quiet. Then he said, "Whatever you do, it should be *your* choice."
She looked at him. "What if I mess it up?"
"Then you try again," he said. "That's all any of us are doing."
There was something so sure in the way he said it. Like he believed it, even if she didn't.
A pause.
Then Lena said, almost without meaning to, "I'm scared of wanting things."
Jace turned toward her. "Why?"
"Because wanting something means I can lose it. Or ruin it. Or not be enough for it."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah. I get that."
She looked at him. "Do you?"
"Every day."
Their eyes met.
And this time, Lena didn't look away.
---
They didn't kiss. Not yet. The moment hovered there—close, electric—but it wasn't time.
Instead, Jace reached out and took her hand. Just held it. Fingers warm against the chill of the evening air.
And Lena let herself lean into it.
No more pretending they were just classmates. No more pretending nothing had changed.
Something *had* changed.
And maybe, just maybe, they were ready to see where it would lead.
---