And this time, I wouldn’t get to be the boy who saved her.
I’d be the one who broke her.
On purpose.
And no amount of love would ever undo that.
Chapter Seventeen
JADE
It started small.
Not all at once. Not loud. Just... faded.
Like colors left out in the sun too long.
The first time I noticed, I brushed it off. He didn’t text goodnight. No call after practice. No dumb selfie from Tristan's car. I told myself it was nothing. Maybe he was tired. Busy. Or heaven forbid, grounded again for punching another guy with too much lip and too little brain.
But the next day, he didn’t wait for me after history. Just ghosted out of class like he had somewhere better to be.
And that was... weird.
Because Leo never missed a chance to walk me to lunch. Never skipped the hand-holding bit. Or the smug glance over his shoulder at everyone watching likeyes, this is my girl and no, you can’t have her.
Until now.
Until he stopped looking.
Until he sat across the quad with his crew, sunglasses on, head tipped back like the sun was more interesting than I was.
It felt stupid to care. Embarrassing, even. Like I was thatgirl now—the one checking her phone every five minutes and replaying memories like they were voicemails she could rewind for clues.
The kiss behind the marble wall.
The stargazing.
His laugh in my aunt’s kitchen when she told him to water the basil or he couldn’t come back.
Was it fake?
No.
No. It couldn’t be.
I knew what I saw in his eyes. What I felt in his hands. The way he kissed me like he needed to memorize me.
But he was slipping now.
And I didn’t know how to stop it.
The silence wasn’t total. He still showed up to soccer games, but he didn’t cheer. Still offered rides, but barely spoke. Still kissed me, but his lips felt colder now—less fire, more obligation.
And when I asked him what was wrong, he gave me that lopsided half-smile I used to melt for.
“Nothing, Gitanilla. Just a lot on my mind.”
Gitanilla.
