Caleb's POV
The nurse handed me the cotton and antiseptic before leaving us alone .
Clara sat in the edge of the bed. I dipped the cotton in the liquid and cleaned it slowly.
She let out a sound of pain. I froze
"I'm sorry," I muttered
"It's fine," she said softly. Her voice was calm, almost too calm.
Silence filled the room. My mind was mess.
Seeing Clara on the floor had sparked something in me.
I couldn't understand the feeling but I knew one thing, that this was more than making Fabian jealous.
The scene at the diner kept playing in my head.
Then my mind shifted to the call I got from my dad. He didn't care to ask about how I was doing.
I tried to keep a calm face even though my head was tangled with thoughts
"Do you think Fabian got hurt because of the kiss? I don't think the 'make him jealous' plan is working," her voice broke my thoughts.
I couldn't understand why she still loved Fabian. He treated her without care or love, yet she still loved him
"It's working." I said to her.
But the truth was, I didn't know anymore if this was still about Fabian.
Every time she looked at me, I felt something twist inside me.
Every time she's hurt or cried, I felt so uneasy.
"Maybe we should stop," she said after a while. "I don't like fighting people's girlfriends."
I dropped by her cotton wool and convinced her that the rage and anger that Fabian demonstrated at the diner shows that he is actually jealous.
After school, I stayed back to practice with the football team. I needed to clear my head.
The whistle blew. The game started rough. I played harder than usual, pushing through everyone who came close.
My mind raced, the thought of my dad's call and his lack of affection and also my mom's longingness to see me disturbed my mind
I felt restless and powerless.
I had scored two goals, the crowd cheered, calling my name.
But I didn't care about all that
Fabian was on the opposite team.
I tried not to look at him, but every time I did, I saw Clara's face flash in my mind; the way she smiled at him before, the way she looked when she said his name.
He dribbled past me once, smirking as he did. Something in me snapped.
When the ball came again, I didn't hold back. I ran straight for him. The tackle was strong, too strong. Fabian fell to the ground hard, holding his knee.
The crowd cheered again, I didn't turn back. I went straight for the goal post as I scored my third goal.
The coach shouted my name.
"What was that, Caleb?"
I didn't answer. I turned back, my eyes fell on Fabian as he groaned in pain on the field.
Fabian got up slowly, anger in his eyes. He muttered something under his breath as he limped away.
The guilt hit me almost instantly. I hadn't meant to hurt him, at least not that bad.
The game continued, but I couldn't focus anymore. My chest felt heavy. I kept replaying what happened.
The stadium was quiet. Everyone had left, the crowd, the teammates, even the noise.
All that was left was the hum of the evening wind brushing past my face and the faint echo of the last whistle still ringing in my ears.
I sat on the bench, dragging in a slow breath. Sweat clung to my skin, and my jersey stuck to my back.
She said she'd be at the library. I was going to meet her there after packing up.
I bent to zip my bag when a shadow stretched across the ground in front of me. I looked up, it was Fabian.
He had a bandage wrapped around his leg, the one I'd hit during the match.
Two other guys stood behind him, arms folded, watching.
"You played really well today," Fabian said.
His voice carried that same smugness I'd grown used to. "Almost too well."
I gave him a small smile, said nothing. I just wanted to leave.
He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "You and Clara have gotten close, haven't you?"
That caught me off guard. I didn't respond, just kept my face blank.
He stepped closer, his limp more noticeable now.
"Before you joined the team," he said quietly, "we made a deal. Clara's my date." His tone dropped lower. "You're not to take her virginity. That's mine. It's part of the bro code."
I blinked, unsure I'd heard right.
"Bro code?" I repeated slowly.
"Yeah," he said. "That's the rule.
Every guy on this team keeps to it. You want to remain one of us, then don't touch her. Not until I've had my turn."
I stared at him, my chest tightening.
I wanted to laugh, to tell him he sounded insane, but my throat wouldn't let the words out.
He leaned closer.
"One more thing. You'll break her heart for me. Do it right, and she'll come running back."
A part of me wanted to punch him right there.
Another part, the cautious one that remembered what being kicked off this team would mean, told me to stay quiet.
I forced a nod. "Alright. I understand."
Fabian smiled, patted my shoulder, and turned away with the other two.
"Good. Don't forget what I said."
Their footsteps faded, leaving only the sound of my heartbeat. I sat there for a long while, my mind spinning.
I had to agree, so I can be close to them, to always know their next move.
I slung my bag over my shoulder and started walking out of the field, and then I stopped.
Grace was standing across the pitch.
My stomach dropped. Her eyes were on me, steady, unreadable.
How long had she been there? Did she see us talking? Did she hear anything?
I swallowed hard and walked toward her, trying to look normal.
"What were you talking about with them?" she asked. Her voice was calm, but her eyes told another story.
My mind raced for something, anything.
"Nothing important," I said quickly. "Just football stuff."
She looked at me for a few seconds longer before nodding slowly.
The silence that followed was awkward and heavy. I forced a small smile.
"Come on," I said, trying to lighten the air. "Let's go shopping. You've been stuck in the library all day."
Her lips curved slightly. "Alright."
The boutique smelled like new fabric and soft perfume. The air was cool, the kind that made you feel oddly calm.
Grace walked ahead of me, touching the clothes on the racks, holding some up against herself and smiling.
I trailed behind, hands in my pockets, trying to focus on her laughter, anything to drown out Fabian's voice replaying in my head.
She picked a few outfits, and the attendant showed her to the fitting area.
When she stepped out in the first one, I tilted my head.
"Too short," I said.
She frowned and laughed softly, disappearing back behind the curtain.
The second one, "Too long."
The third, "Too big."
She shook her head, laughing again.
Each time she came out, it felt lighter, easier. Watching her smile made the world feel right again, even if I didn't deserve it.
While she was inside, my eyes drifted around the store and caught on something red hanging on the wall, a bikini, bright and bold.
I picked it up before I could overthink it.
When Grace stepped out again, I handed it to her.
"Try this one," I said, keeping my tone casual. "Would look good for, I don't know… the beach or something."
She raised a brow at me. "You're serious?"
I shrugged. "Just try it."
She took it, shaking her head but smiling, then disappeared behind the curtain again.
Minutes passed. Then her voice came, soft but clear.
"Caleb?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't reach the hook. Can you… help me?"
My breath caught. For a moment, I froze. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
I stepped closer, my pulse thudding hard.
The curtain shifted as I slipped inside.
Grace stood with her back to me, the soft light from the ceiling tracing her outline faintly.
I lifted my hands carefully, fastening the hook.
I pushed back her hair. My fingers brushed against her shoulder blade, just barely, but it sent a shiver through me.
I could hear her breathing, steady and close. Mine wasn't so steady.
"There," I murmured, stepping back.
She turned slightly, and our eyes met. Everything stilled; the sound, the air, even time.
And then, just as quickly, the shop bell rang.
I turned my head toward the entrance, and froze.
Fabian was standing there.
His eyes were on us.