A new nickname

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Harper’s POV

My grip tightened around the edge of the table.

“What?” he let out slowly, like I had accused him. “You really think that’s what I was doing?”

“What else would it be?” I shot back.

He didn’t answer immediately, just looked at me.

My stomach twisted.

I dared not think of his little gesture, and I pretended not to still feel the warmth of his touch lingering in my chest.

Then he smiled, a stupid, infuriating smirk.

“You’re right. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” he confessed.

My jaw tightened.

“Touch me again and I swear I will...” I grunted.

“Do what?” His eyes hardened a bit.

“Tell my mum on me?” he fired sharply.

He moved closer, his hand gripping my chair as he turned me around.

I tried to keep my eyes on him and remain calm.

“Don’t force me,” I returned.

I could feel my hair pulling up as his face moved closer now.

What is he doing? I wondered.

For what felt like a long moment, he just stared at me. I felt his eyes on my lips but I believed that was my wild imagination.

“I can’t concentrate staring at your ugly face,” he suddenly burst out.

He snapped his fingers against my forehead without warning and moved away. I groaned and gasped in shock at his harsh words.

Before I could stop him, he walked out the door and closed it behind him.

—

Jace’s POV

As soon as I slammed the door shut and let out a stiff breath, I bit my lips, scolding myself.

“How could I be thinking of her lips?” I mumbled to myself as I slammed my door and fell onto the bed with a grunt.

...

—

Harper’s POV

I tried to gather the manuscript notebooks and my flute in my hands while keeping my phone from slipping off.

After struggling with the music room door for a second, I finally pushed it open with one hand and stepped inside with a tired sigh.

I placed the books down first before carefully setting the flute beside them.

Just as I was about to leave, my eyes landed on the viola sitting quietly in the middle of the large room.

My steps slowed.

For two seconds, I simply stared at it.

Then I glanced back at the door.

I was alone.

Pressing my lips together, I moved slowly toward the instrument and sat down in front of it.

Almost instantly, a memory surfaced.

I was five.

Dad sat beside me, playing softly. I smiled at him as I listened to the melodious sound.

I remembered always falling asleep with a smile on my face.

Before I realized it, my fingers had already reached for the bow. I picked the viola up carefully, adjusting it in my hands.

Just as I was about to play, loud footsteps echoed from outside.

My entire body tensed.

In my panic, I dropped the bow.

The sound made my heart leap straight into my throat.

I jumped to my feet and hurried around the room, searching desperately for somewhere to hide as the door handle clicked.

Fortunately, I managed to slip into the closet just before the door opened.

Inside the cramped little space, I tried not to squirm as cobwebs brushed against my arms.

“We’re done, Reagan.”

My eyes widened at the sound of Jace’s voice.

Despite how tiny the slats were, I carefully leaned closer and peeked through them.

Reagan stood there in her cheerleading uniform while Jace faced her with his hands shoved into his pockets, his expression dark and irritated.

I instinctively held my breath.

“Come on, Jace. If you treated me better, I wouldn’t have gone to Declan,” Reagan burst out.

Jace’s face darkened instantly.

“Are you seriously blaming me?” he snapped. “You cheated on me with my best friend.”

His voice rose sharply at the end, and he released a frustrated breath.

Reagan flinched a little.

She quickly reached for his hands, but he jerked away angrily.

I pressed my palm firmly against my lips, afraid even my breathing would expose me.

“We’re over,” he told her firmly before brushing past her.

Reagan’s expression twisted immediately, her pride obviously wounded.

“Can you stop acting so superior just because you’re some champion?” she hissed angrily.

“It’s not like you ever loved me anyway.”

My fingers tightened over my mouth.

My eyes moved instinctively toward Jace, who had suddenly stopped walking.

He looked furious.

For a moment, it seemed like he was about to respond.

Then suddenly, a loud ringtone shattered the silence.

I frowned faintly at first, wondering whose phone had chosen such a terrible moment to ring.

Then the realization hit me.

That ringtone sounded exactly like mine.

Cold panic rushed through my body.

In my hurry to hide, I must have dropped my phone. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Please...

Please no.

The closet door was yanked open.

The two of them stood there staring at me.

For one second, surprise crossed their faces. Then it quickly shifted into anger.

“Ugh,” Reagan scoffed, looking completely infuriated.

“Were you listening in on us?” she fired.

I immediately shook my head.

But judging from her expression, she clearly had no intention of believing me.

She never did.

My eyes shifted toward Jace, who stood behind her with his hands back in his pockets, staring at me suspiciously.

I slowly stepped out of the closet and pointed toward the manuscripts.

“I came to drop those off,” I explained quietly.

“Then why’d you hide?” Jace questioned, stepping closer.

Before I could answer him properly, Reagan spoke again.

“Or maybe...” Her eyes dropped to the phone lying on the floor.

'She was recording us?”

My eyes widened.

I shook my head quickly.

“Of course not. I just panicked and I...” My voice trailed off as she rushed forward and grabbed my hair instead.

I cried out and tried to free myself.

"What are you doing?” I yelled.

“You are the one who sent the pictures, right? You sleazeball,” she threw harshly, accusingly.

I tried to move, to look at her, wondering what on earth she was talking about.

" I swear I didn’t do anything,” I pleaded.

Reagan grabbed tighter, and my scalp felt like it might rip off.

“Quit the lies. I know you are the one who did it...” she was saying when suddenly she was pushed.

My hair was free and I quickly moved back, tears welling up in my eyes. I looked up to see Jace holding her hand.

“Can you stop with the madness? What proof do you have to accuse her?” His voice was raised.

Reagan snatched her hand away in anger, glaring.

“I don’t need to have proof before I accuse her,” she snapped.

“She has always been jealous of me,” she said without flinching.

I almost let out a scoff.

She’s the one who hates my guts, yet I’m the one obsessed and jealous of her.

Without warning, she charged past me and grabbed my phone. I moved quickly to snatch it away from her.

“Hey, give that back,” I shouted.

“I bet there’s some evidence here,” she grunted and pushed me off.

I tried again.

Jace also stepped forward and just when I thought he might help out, he grabbed the phone from Reagan and it crashed onto the floor.

The sharp sound echoed through the room.

My breath caught.

The screen had cracked badly.

I pushed Jace away and quickly picked it up, staring helplessly at the shattered glass.

The screen stayed black.

That phone was a gift from James.

Slowly, I looked back at Jace.

Not a trace of guilt crossed his face.

Reagan crossed her arms with a mocking snort.

“You deserved that, stalker.”

But my anger wasn’t even directed at her.

I gritted my teeth as frustration burned inside me.

He had broken my phone and somehow still looked completely unbothered.

“I don’t care about some stupid evidence,” he hissed and without another glance at me, he simply turned around and walked out.

Reagan followed after him, though not before throwing one last smirk my way.

The room fell quiet again.

I stood there for a long moment, inhaling deeply as tears gathered painfully in my eyes.

I bit my lower lip hard to push them back.

"I'm going to get back at you for this, Jace Carter,” I swore under my breath.