CHAPTER 172

**WINTER**

Zion shifts on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s searching for the right words. His eyes flick to mine and stay there, unreadable.

“So… I guess I’ll see you at lunch? Or maybe I could walk you to class?” he says, his voice low and slightly rough, like he’s testing the waters, unsure if he’s crossing a line just by asking.

I adjust the stack of books in my arms, hugging them tighter to my chest as I lean back against my locker, forcing a quick smile.

“It’s fine—I’m heading the other way anyway.”

It’s not exactly a no. But it’s definitely not a yes.

Zion’s jaw ticks at my reply, that unreadable look in his eyes flickering into something else—something sharp.

He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something—but nothing comes out.

Just silence.

He stands there for a second too long, eyes fixed on mine, something flickering behind them that I can’t quite read.

Then, slowly, he raises both hands like he’s about to reach for me—pull me into a hug or just hold on somehow—but he freezes midway.

His jaw clenches, a quiet curse slipping from under his breath as he lets his arms drop back to his sides, fingers flexing like he doesn’t know what the hell to do with them.

“Okay…” he says finally, voice low and tight.

“Well… I guess I’ll see you later.”

Clark opens his mouth, no doubt about to toss some joke into the mix, but Zion throws an arm around his shoulders mid-sentence and drags him off without a word, ignoring Clark’s loud protest of,

“Hey—what the hell, man!”

“—Don’t,” Zion mutters, his voice low and steady.

I watch as he pulls Clark along with him, their footsteps echoing in the hall, his broad shoulders tense beneath his hoodie.

Clark cracks a joke—probably something ridiculous—and Zion doesn’t miss a beat, reaching back to swat him across the head.

Ro chuckles, low and amused, while Harry—well, his eyes keep flicking toward Ariel like he’s trying not to stare but failing miserably.

That boy’s a goner.

But me and Zion?

I don’t even know what this is anymore.

That weird tension earlier when he came over, the way we both hesitated like strangers pretending we weren’t—God, it was suffocating.

Once upon a time, we didn’t even need words.

We just got each other.

He was my person.

Now it feels like we’re dancing around the ghost of something we lost, and I can’t tell if we’re trying to fix it or just pretending it never broke.

I sigh, still watching his back as he disappears into the crowd, and all I can think is—will we ever get back to the way we were?

Because right now, it feels like we’re speaking two different languages, and neither of us knows how to translate anymore.

For a moment, I just stand there, the locker door is still open, and my fingers curled loosely around a book I’m not even looking at.

My mind feels like it’s running in slow motion, thoughts trailing behind him with every step he takes.

Ariel appears beside me again, nudging me lightly with her elbow.

“You okay?”

I nod, even though I don’t quite believe it myself.

“Yeah. It’s just…” I trail off, not even sure what I’m trying to say.

“He still gets under your skin,” she finishes for me, eyes soft with understanding.

I give her a half-smile.

“Like a splinter, I can’t dig out.”

Claire snorts. “More like a whole damn tree branch, babe.”

That earns a small laugh from me, and I lean against the lockers, trying to shake off the lingering electricity Zion left behind.

As we started walking toward our first class, I glanced over my shoulder one last time.

Zion’s already halfway across the courtyard, his hands shoved in his pockets, walking beside the others. But then—like he feels it—he glances back over his shoulder.

Even through the noise and distance, our eyes find each other.

But in that second, everything stills. The noise, the movement, the distance between us—it all fades.

He smiles, soft and a little crooked, like it’s just for me. Like he can’t help it.

And before I even realize it, I’m smiling too.

He turns away a moment later, but the flutter he left behind in my chest?

That stays.

Because no matter how much I tell myself we’re just friends now… part of me still remembers what it felt like to be everything else.

Those memories don’t just disappear—they settle beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest spark to pull them back up.

We’re halfway down the hallway when I feel it—a faint vibration against my leg.

I slip my phone out of my pocket, glancing at the screen.

One new message.

No name.

No number.

Just: Unknown.

My brows pull together as I unlock it.

**It’s almost laughable how quickly you forget. But that’s fine… You let your guard down so easily. Makes it all the more satisfying—watching you walk right into my revenge**

My stomach twists. The words feel like a slap—sharp, personal. And terrifyingly familiar.

My heart skips a beat.

I stop walking.

The chatter in the hallway fades into a low hum, drowned out by the deafening thud of my heartbeat.

“Winter, what do you think—”

A pause.

“Winter?”

Ariel’s voice cuts through the haze, her brows drawn together as she nudges my arm gently.

“Hey… Winter?”

I blink, snapping out of it just enough to plaster on a weak smile.

My fingers fumble to shove the phone into the front pocket of my jeans, like hiding it deep enough might somehow smother the unease curling in my gut.

As if out of sight could mean out of mind—but the words are already etched into me. Still burning. Still there.

“You okay?” Ariel asks softly, taking a step closer, concern etched across her face.

Before I can even lie, Claire swoops in beside us, sipping on her smoothie like she’s strutting down a runway.

“What’s with the dramatic freeze, Win?” she says with a smirk.

“You look like you saw a ghost… or, worse, your midterm grades.”

Ariel snorts, hand flying to her mouth as she tries to hold back a laugh.

I laugh, too. Or at least, I make the sound.

But it’s hollow. Too high. Too light. The kind of laugh that doesn’t quite reach the eyes.

Because all I can think about is that message.

**..… You let your guard down so easily. Makes it all the more satisfying—watching you walk right into my revenge**

And no amount of jokes or forced smiles can drown it out.

My fingers brush against the front pocket of my jeans, as if willing it to disappear.

Just ignore it, Winter.

Pretend the message was nothing—just some random spam, or maybe a reminder I forgot to turn off.

There's nothing to worry about.

But the words won’t leave me.

They cling to me like a shadow, even as we keep walking. Even as Ariel and Claire chats beside me, their voices are distant and muffled.

My heart thuds against my ribcage, heavy and uncertain.

Is it him?

Is Zion messing with me again?

I hate that my first instinct is to think that way—but how could it not be? The word revenge lingers in my mind, too familiar, too chilling.

He’s the one who made my life hell from the moment I stepped onto this campus. The one who orchestrated pranks that left me humiliated, tears stinging my eyes. All in the name of revenge.

He’s the one who knows exactly how to cut me open with words, so carefully chosen that they sound like poetry—until the pain starts to bleed.

Was it all just an act?

A carefully crafted performance wrapped in the disguise of friendship?

The apology… the way his voice broke last night when he spoke about his dad—was any of it real?

Or just another step in whatever twisted game he’s playing? A way to make me let my guard down, just so he could crush me when I least expect it?

I feel like a fool. Raw and wide open.

To get close... just so he could break me all over again.

I bite the inside of my cheek, hard. The taste of blood pulls me back for a second.

Don’t be stupid, I tell myself. Don’t spiral.

But the doubt is already there, rooted deep.

And no matter how many times I tell myself I’m just being paranoid… the fear won’t let go.

......

As I walk through the crowded halls, my eyes flicker from shadow to shadow, scanning every movement, almost expecting Zion to pop out from behind a corner, ready with a cruel joke or a “gotcha” moment.

My heart pounds in my chest, lodged somewhere in my throat, and the unease gnaws at me, sinking deeper with every step.

The tension wraps around me like a vice, the air thick with anticipation, and I can’t shake the feeling that someone’s watching me.

I stop, forcing a breath, mentally scolding myself.

Don’t jump to conclusions, Winter.
It could be anyone.

Cindy, one of her bratty friends, some random jerk with too much time on their hands.

My heart—stupid, reckless thing—tries desperately to defend Zion.

Telling me he wouldn’t do this.

Not again.

Not after everything. Not after the apology, the way his eyes looked that night, raw and broken.

But my brain… my brain isn’t so sure.

But the unease lingers, coiled tight in the pit of my stomach like it’s waiting to strike.

No matter how many times I glance over my shoulder, the feeling lingers—sharp and persistent.

Like eyes on the back of my neck.

Like a presence I can’t see, but somehow feel.

And I can’t shake it. Not even for a second.