"You may be his world, but you're the only thing that ever felt like home to me."
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Some people never get second chances. Lilah never thought she'd get one with her brother's best friend.
She's quiet...
Nearly 13,000 reads! I can't thank you guys enough for sticking through this with me! I hope these last few updates have made it worth it. Please comment or vote if you enjoy these rewritten chapters!!
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It takes me almost the entire walk from my last class to the coffee shop to work up the courage to check my messages. I stop at the crosswalk, thumb hovering uncertainly over my screen, and finally tap open Jackson's contact. I'd bravely texted him during my last class, and now I'm on my way to meet him, pretending my stomach isn't in knots.
Lilah: Hey. For the project... do you want to meet today and get started? Coffee shop?
I skim my message for what feels like the hundredth time, checking that I didn't sound desperate or overly eager. Then the light changes, and I cross the street with a crowd of strangers, each step feeling heavier than it should.
By the time the coffee shop comes into view, I sigh with relief just to get out of the sprinkling rain. Even if Jackson doesn't respond and agree to meet up, I can still get my iced caramel coffee and dry off a bit. But the moment I step through the doors and the bell jingles above me, I'm surprised when my phone vibrates. I glance down and see a reply from him.
Jackson: Yeah. I'm five minutes away.
No extra punctuation, no hesitation—just a simple confirmation. Practical. Straightforward. But he said yes, and that alone feels like progress.
Deciding I have enough time, I go up to the cashier and order my usual. The place is busy, but fortunately most people already have their drinks and pastries and are sitting down. I am only the second person in line waiting for their order, and that time passes quickly. Receiving my drink, I turn around and pause for a moment, looking for a table.
I choose a small table near the window and pull out my notebook, pretending to reread our assignment instructions, though I've practically memorized them already. Mostly, I'm trying to steady my breathing and not look as nervous as I feel.
It's ridiculous to be nervous over something as simple as a project meeting, but the thought of being alone with Jackson again makes my pulse flutter uncomfortably.
The door swings open a few minutes later, the bell above the doorway ringing lightly, and Jackson steps in. His black hoodie hangs slightly loose, his hands shoved into the pockets, hair tousled in a way that looks both accidental and intentional. His eyes sweep across the room, landing on me almost immediately, and a subtle shift in his expression tells me he hadn't expected this to feel quite so strange either.
"Hey," he says when he reaches the table—soft, but a little distant.
"Hey. Thanks for meeting." I breathe out a sigh, my body stiff as I adjust in my seat.
He slides into the seat across from me with a shrug. "We need to get it done at some point."
Of course he frames it practically. Of course that's all this is—two classmates doing what they need to do. Still, when his knee nudges the underside of the table and he subtly straightens, almost startled by our proximity, it feels more personal than he probably intended.
