Chapter Text
|~| Earlier |~|
The night was alive with music and laughter as Lucy weaved through the crowd, searching for Tim. Her chest tightened with unease as she scanned the dance floor. No sign of him.
She spotted Angela near the punch table, chatting with Wesley.
“Hey, have you seen Tim?” Lucy asked, her voice tinged with worry.
Angela turned, frowning slightly. “Not for a while. He probably stepped outside to get some fresh air. You know how he gets when it gets crowded.”
Lucy nodded, forcing a smile. “Thanks.”
Leaving the pulsating beats behind, Lucy made her way to the exit. The crisp night air hit her face, cooling her flushed cheeks. The parking lot was sparsely populated, illuminated by the glow of overhead lights. She glanced around but didn’t see Tim.
Then, faint voices caught her attention. She stepped closer to the side of the building, the sound becoming clearer. It was Doug and Elijah, leaning against the wall, smoking casually as they talked.
“Man, I still can’t believe Bradford tried to call it off tonight,” Doug said, shaking his head.
“Right? What a joke,” Elijah replied, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “It’s not like we asked him to fall for her or whatever. He just had to follow through and be done with it.”
Lucy froze, her heart pounding. Her mind raced to process what she was hearing.
Doug chuckled darkly. “Yeah, but you saw him. He’s whipped. If he doesn’t do it tonight, he knows we’ll tell her everything.”
Elijah smirked. “Honestly, Bradford’s an idiot. But I’ll give him this—Chen’s hotter than I thought she’d be. Too bad she’s just another chick who got played.”
Lucy’s breath hitched. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as the words sank in.
Doug laughed again. “Yeah, well, he’s an asshole for trying to bail, but even assholes have a conscience, I guess.”
Lucy didn’t hear the rest. Her vision blurred as tears stung her eyes. She stumbled back, her stomach churning. Her chest felt like it was caving in, the weight of betrayal suffocating her.
Without a second thought, she turned and walked away, her steps hurried and uneven. The cool air did nothing to soothe the burning in her chest or the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Inside, the music thudded relentlessly, but Lucy could only hear the echo of their words. Every moment with Tim flashed through her mind, tainted now by the sickening realization that it had all been a lie.
She slipped back into the building, the bright lights and crowded room overwhelming her senses. Desperately, she searched for Angela, but her vision was too clouded. She needed to leave, needed to get away before the weight of everything crushed her completely.
|~| present time |~|
Lucy didn’t remember how she got home, only that she was now curled up in her bed, her sobs muffled by the pillow she clutched tightly. She shivered, realizing she was still wrapped in Tim’s jersey—the one she hadn’t returned. Its faint scent of him lingered, a cruel reminder of everything she thought they had.
Her breath hitched as fresh tears streamed down her face. How could she have been so stupid? She replayed every moment in her mind, every smile, every kiss, every whispered word. It had all felt so real. But now, those memories felt like jagged shards cutting into her heart.
There had been a knock at her door earlier, Wesley’s voice gentle as he tried to check on her. Angela had been there too, her arms wrapped protectively around Lucy before she’d left. But Lucy had begged them to go, her voice thick with exhaustion and pain.
“Please,” she’d whispered, unable to meet Angela’s worried gaze. “I just... need to be alone.”
Angela had hesitated, her eyes searching Lucy’s tear-streaked face for any sign she should stay. But Wesley had softly reminded her they couldn’t force her, gently steering Angela toward the door. Angela had reluctantly agreed, but not without whispering to her to call if she needed anything.
Now, the silence in her room was deafening. Lucy buried her face deeper into the pillow, the fabric damp from her tears. Her chest ached with every breath, her mind spinning.
How could she not have seen it? How could she have been so blind to what was happening? She had trusted Tim—believed in him in a way she hadn’t believed in anyone in so long.
The thought made her stomach twist painfully. “God, I’m such an idiot,” she whispered hoarsely to the empty room, her voice breaking.
She curled up tighter, clutching the jersey like it could shield her from the wave of emotions crashing over her. But it couldn’t. Nothing could.
The betrayal, the humiliation, the heartache—it all threatened to drown her as she cried herself into an uneasy, restless sleep, still wrapped in the jersey of the boy she’d given her heart to.
Lucy groaned into her pillow as another knock came from her bedroom door. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing whoever it was to go away.
“Mom, I said I don’t want to talk,” she called out, her voice muffled and hoarse from crying.
“It’s not me,” came her mother Patricia’s gentle voice from the other side of the door. “It’s Jackson. He’s here to see you.”
Lucy froze, her heart twisting at the mention of his name. The betrayal of knowing he had kept the truth from her still stung, but another part of her desperately needed her best friend—the one who always seemed to know how to help her piece herself back together.
She didn’t answer, hoping he’d get the hint and leave. But her mother, always knowing more than Lucy liked to admit, said softly, “I’m letting him in, Lucy. You don’t have to say anything, but he’s not going anywhere until you do.”
Before Lucy could protest, she heard the door creak open and Patricia’s quiet footsteps retreating.
“Lucy?” Jackson’s voice was tentative, filled with hesitation and guilt.
She didn’t turn to face him, keeping her back to the door. Her arms tightened around the jersey she was still wearing, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest.
“I told her to leave me alone,” she muttered, her voice trembling.
“And I would,” Jackson said, his tone soft but steady. “But I couldn’t stay away knowing you’re hurting like this.”
Lucy let out a shaky breath, her body tense as she heard him move closer. The bed dipped slightly as Jackson sat on the edge, giving her space but close enough that she could feel his presence.
“I should have told you,” he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “The second I found out about the bet, I should’ve come to you. But I thought… I thought Tim would do the right thing, that he’d tell you himself.”
Lucy finally turned her head slightly, her tear-streaked face meeting his pained expression. “You knew, Jackson,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything. You let me—” She broke off, choking on her words.
“I know,” Jackson said quickly, leaning forward, his hands clasped tightly together. “And I hate myself for it. I thought I was protecting you. I thought if I confronted him and he ended it, you wouldn’t have to go through this. I was wrong, Luce. So wrong. But I only found out tonight, I swear to god.”
She swallowed hard, her emotions tangled between anger, sadness, and an aching need for comfort. Under it all, she believed Jackson, she did. “He used me, Jackson,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I gave him everything, and it was all just… a game to him.”
Jackson reached out cautiously, resting a hand on her arm. “I don’t think that’s true,” he said gently. “I think Tim—he cares about you, Luce. More than he probably even realized at first. That’s why he tried to call off the bet.”
Lucy shook her head, fresh tears pooling in her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. He still did it. He still lied to me.”
Jackson’s hand stayed steady, his eyes full of guilt and compassion. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I’m here. Whatever you need, whenever you need it. I won’t screw up again, I swear.”
For a moment, Lucy stayed silent, her tears falling freely. Then, with a shaky breath, she leaned into Jackson’s side, letting him wrap an arm around her.
“I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, her voice breaking.
Jackson held her tighter. “We’ll figure it out together, Luce. One step at a time.”
And for the first time that night, Lucy felt the smallest sliver of solace.
|~|
The hum of the engine filled the silence as Angela sat in the passenger seat, her arms crossed. Wesley had been unusually quiet since they left Lucy’s house, and it was making her uneasy.
Finally, she broke the silence. “Where are we going, Wes?”
Wesley kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tight. “I need to make a stop.”
Angela frowned, suspicion rising. “What kind of stop? It’s late, and Lucy—”
Her words were cut off as Wesley pulled into a familiar neighborhood. Her eyes widened as they approached the driveway with a car she instantly recognized.
“Wesley, no,” she said sharply, unbuckling her seatbelt as the car came to a halt.
But Wesley was already getting out.
“Stop!” Angela shouted, scrambling out of the car.
Wesley turned to her, his expression resolute. “He deserves to know what he’s done, Angela. This is his fault. He—”
Angela’s eyes darted to the car parked in the driveway. Her heart dropped. “Wes, that’s Tim’s dad’s car. You can’t just go banging on their door in the middle of the night!”
“I don’t care,” Wesley snapped, his voice rising. “Tim hurt her, and he’s going to hear about it.”
Angela’s panic flared. She grabbed Wesley’s arm as he started toward the house, her voice urgent. “Wesley, *listen to me*! You know what his dad is like. You show up now, and things could get bad—*really* bad.”
Wesley hesitated for a moment, but his anger didn’t waver. “I’m not going to let him get away with it, Angela.”
When he yanked his arm free and moved again, Angela made a split-second decision.
“Damn it, Wesley!” she muttered before lunging at him.
In one swift motion, she tackled him to the ground, the impact making both of them grunt.
“What the hell, Angela?!” Wesley protested as she pinned him, her hands pressing down on his shoulders.
“You are not going up there!” Angela hissed, her face inches from his. “If you wake up Tim’s dad and he sees you like this, he’ll lose it. And then what? You want to escalate this into something worse?”
Wesley struggled beneath her, but Angela’s grip was firm. “He deserves to pay for what he did!”
“I get it, okay? I *get it*! But this isn’t the way,” Angela shot back, her voice filled with urgency. “You can’t protect Lucy by making things worse for Tim—or for yourself. Think, Wesley!”
Wesley stopped fighting, his breaths coming hard as he stared up at her. Slowly, the fire in his eyes dimmed, replaced by reluctant understanding.
“Fine,” he muttered, his voice tight. “You win.”
Angela stayed on top of him for a moment longer, making sure he wasn’t going to change his mind. When she was satisfied, she stood and helped him up, brushing dirt off her clothes.
Wesley sighed heavily, glancing back at the house. “I just—I hate seeing her like this.”
Angela softened, placing a hand on his arm. “I know. But we need to be smart about this. Lucy needs us to have her back, not make things worse.”
Wesley nodded, though his frustration was still evident.
“Come on,” Angela said gently, tugging him back toward the car. “Take me home and then go get ice cream for your sister..”
As they got back into the car, Angela cast one last wary glance at the house, her chest tightening at the thought of the storm brewing inside.