Chapter 5 Lena's POV

I almost didn't go.

I was standing in front of my mirror at eight fifteen in the black dress Priya had forced on me and I was two seconds from texting Cole I can't do this when I looked at my phone.

Ryan's voicemail. Still sitting there.

Ask him about Jess.

I put my phone in my bag and walked out.

---

Cole was waiting outside the athletics building.

Dark jeans. Dark henley. He'd actually tried tonight which was somehow worse than when he didn't. He looked up when he heard me and something moved across his face before he locked it back down.

"You're on time," he said.

"I'm always on time. You're the one with the punctuality problem." I stopped in front of him. "Ryan's in there?"

"His car's in the lot."

"Okay." I breathed. "Okay. Let's go."

He pushed off the wall and held out his hand.

I looked at it.

"From the door," he said. "Not from the middle of the room. From the second we walk in."

I took his hand.

---

The mixer was loud and packed. Both teams everywhere, already eyeing each other badly.

I felt the exact moment people noticed us.

Eyes landing. Staying. Someone nudging someone else. A girl near the door doing a full double take.

"People are staring," I said under my breath.

"Good," Cole said. "That's the point."

"It's a lot."

"Look at me. Not at them."

I looked at him.

And he looked back at me and that was somehow worse than the staring because up close in the low light of the room his eyes were doing something I hadn't accounted for and my brain briefly forgot what we were doing here.

"Better," he said quietly.

We kept walking.

He steered us toward the bar and I felt his thumb move slightly against the back of my hand. Probably not intentional. I told myself it was not intentional.

"You're doing good," he said. Low. Just for me.

"Don't coach me like I'm-"

"I'm not coaching you. I'm telling you." He stopped at the bar and turned toward me and he was close. Closer than he needed to be. Close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him. "You look like you belong here. Keep that."

"I don't belong here at all," I said.

"I know." His mouth did the almost-smile thing. "You look like it anyway."

My heart did something completely stupid.

"Cole-"

"Yeah?"

I had forgotten what I was going to say. He was too close and his hand was still holding mine and he smelled like soap and something else I refused to identify and every functioning brain cell I had was misfiring simultaneously.

"Nothing," I said.

He tilted his head slightly. Eyes on mine. "You sure?"

"Yes. Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what."

"Like you're trying to figure something out."

"I am trying to figure something out."

"What."

He opened his mouth-

"What the fuck."

Ryan's voice.

Cole stepped back. The moment shattered completely.

I turned.

There he was. Dark blue Westbrook hoodie, jaw tight, eyes locked on our hands like they'd personally attacked him. Around him two of his teammates who had clearly just clocked the situation and did not know where to look.

He looked rattled.

Not performing it. Actually rattled.

Good.

"Ryan," Cole said. Flat.

"Don't." Ryan's eyes moved to me. Something crossed his face that I hadn't prepared for. Not anger. Actual hurt. "Lena. What are you doing."

"Having a drink," I said. "You?"

"You know what I mean." He took a step closer. "Can we just go somewhere and talk. Five minutes. Please."

"She's good," Cole said.

"I'm not talking to you-"

"And yet here we are." Cole shifted slightly. Not forward aggressively. Just - there. Between us by half a step. "Say what you need to say, Ryan."

Ryan looked at him for a long moment. Something ugly moved through his expression.

"Of course," he said. "Of course this is what you do. Some girl shows up hurt and you swoop in-"

"Nobody swooped," I said.

"You don't know him." His eyes snapped back to me and they were urgent now. "I'm serious, Lena. I'm not saying this to be a dick. I'm saying this because you don't know what he's done-"

"Forty dollars," I said. "That's what you're worried about. You and your whole team in a group chat and forty dollars."

His mouth closed.

"Don't stand here and pretend you're worried about me," I said. "You don't get that."

Silence.

Ryan's jaw worked. His hands were at his sides. Around us the room had shifted, people clocking that something was happening.

He looked at Cole one more time.

"Ask her if she knows about Jess," he said. Quiet. "Go ahead. Tell her."

Cole's hand in mine went completely still.

"Who's Jess," I said.

Ryan's eyes moved between us. Something settled into his face. "He hasn't told you."

"Ryan." Cole's voice came out different. Quieter. More dangerous. "Walk away."

"She deserves-"

"Walk away. Now."

Ryan laughed. Short. Ugly. "You're going to burn this down," he said. "You always do." He looked at me one last time. "When it goes wrong - and it will - you'll know I warned you."

He turned and walked away.

I turned to Cole immediately. "Who is Jess."

"Not here."

"Cole-"

"I said not here." His jaw was tight. "Give me tonight. I'll tell you everything. But not here."

I stared at him.

He stared back.

And then a girl screamed from across the room.

Not a fun scream.

A real one.

Cole's head snapped up. I turned. Ryan had somebody's collar in his hand - a Crestwood guy, red jersey, bigger than him - and it was going sideways fast, people backing up, phones out.

Cole dropped my hand.

"Stay here," he said.

"Cole-"

He was already moving.

I stood there watching him cut through the crowd and my phone buzzed in my bag.

Unknown number.

You want to know about Jess? Come to the back entrance. Alone. I'll tell you everything he won't.

I looked at the message.

Looked at Cole's back disappearing into the crowd.

Looked at the message again.

I should stay. I should wait. I should absolutely not wal

k out the back entrance alone at a party that was already on fire.

I walked toward the back entrance.