All Chapters of To the two boys I like: Burn me the safe way: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Elena didn't sleep.She got home at two in the morning, crawled into bed still wearing her jeans, and stared at the ceiling until dawn crept through her curtains. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Noah. His hand in her hair. His forehead pressed to hers. The way he'd trembled like he was holding back an earthquake.Tell me to stop.She hadn't told him to stop.That was the part that made her stomach twist into knots. She'd stood there in that concrete room with blood on his face and let him pull her close, wanted him to close that last inch, would have kissed him back if he'd let himself do it.While her boyfriend slept peacefully in his bed thinking she was doing the same.God. She was a terrible person.Her phone buzzed at seven fifteen. Liam's usual good morning text. ‘Hope you slept well. Coffee before school?’Elena stared at the message until her vision blurred.She typed back: Didn't sleep great. Rain check?‘You okay? Want me to bring you something?’‘I'm fine.’‘Okay. Le

Noah's chair stayed empty for a week before Elena let herself acknowledge it meant something.The first day she told herself he was sick. People got sick. Missed school. It happened. The second day she thought maybe he'd had another fight, was recovering somewhere with split knuckles and bruised ribs. By the third day she was checking the parking lot every morning for his motorcycle, scanning hallways between classes, looking for him in places she knew he wouldn't be.He never showed.By Friday his desk in AP English had that particular quality empty spaces got when they'd been empty too long. Like the room had already adjusted to his absence, had stopped expecting him to fill it.Elena stared at that chair for forty minutes while Ms. Rivera talked about symbolism in The Great Gatsby and tried not to think about what it meant that Noah had been gone for five straight days without a word.Liam noticed too. Of course he did."Have you heard from Noah?" he asked at lunch, picking at his

Elena pressed herself against the wall, barely breathing.Through the narrow gap between the cabinet and the wall she could see a sliver of Noah's apartment. Just enough. Two men walked in, both older, maybe mid thirties. One was tall with a shaved head and tattoos crawling up his neck. The other was shorter, stockier, wearing a leather jacket that had seen better days. Both were smoking. Both looked like the kind of people you crossed the street to avoid.The tall one stopped just inside the doorway, scanning the room with practiced assessment. His eyes moved over the couch, the table, the kitchen area. Elena held her breath. If he looked hard enough at the cabinet, if he noticed the gap, if he came any closer—"Place is a dump, Kane," he said finally, stepping further in. His voice was rough, like gravel scraped over concrete."It's fine," Noah said. Flat. Controlled."You could do better. Make some real money with us, you could afford better."The shorter one closed the door behind

The front door hadn't even fully clicked shut before Elena saw her mother. Claire was standing by the living room window, her silhouette framed by the fading evening light. She had one hand pulling back the edge of the floral curtain, just an inch, peering out into the street. Elena froze in the entryway, her heart, which had finally started to slow down after the ride, kicking hard against her ribs again."He looks really cute," Claire said. She let the curtain fall back into place and turned around, a playful, knowing smile spreading across her face. "Who is he?"Elena tried to keep her face neutral, but she could feel the heat rising in her neck, a tell-tale flush she couldn't hide. "No one, Mom. Just... no one."Claire laughed, a light, airy sound that felt jarringly out of place compared to the heaviness Elena had just left behind. She began walking toward the foyer, cornering Elena near the coat rack. "Oh, come on. Don't 'no one' me. Tell your mother who the mysterious, good-lo

The brick was cold against her shoulder blades. It was that biting, unforgiving chill of a school building that never quite got the heating right. Elena’s heart wasn’t just racing anymore; it was thrashing, a frantic rhythm that made her ears throb. She looked up, her vision adjusting to the dim, flickering light of the alcove, and saw him.Noah.He didn't say a word. There was no explanation for the disappearance, no apology for the cryptic text, no "hello" after the wink that had set her on fire in geography. He just moved. It was a fast, predatory tilt of his head, and then his lips were on hers. It wasn't a soft kiss. This was desperate, it was rough and tasted faintly of the cold morning air and something dark, something like hunger. Elena’s brain short-circuited. She felt the scrape of his chin, the sudden heat of his skin, and the world outside the alcove—the ringing bells, the slamming lockers, the chatter of students—just died.His hand moved with a terrifying, confident