Val's pov
Sometimes I think the walls of my house are made of pressure instead of bricks.
Dad didn't say much this morning. Just hovered in the kitchen with that cold air he carries like cologne. His voice sharp and robotic:
> "You have four days left. The judges don't care about excuses, Valentina. Only medals."
Right. Because medals are heavier than happiness, and God forbid I lose sight of the podium.
I gave Emma a kiss goodbye while she munched toast with her headphones in, completely immersed in some animated world she uses to block out reality. Smart girl.
Mom was nowhere. Again. Probably still curled up in Dad's office chair at his company, pretending her marriage is fine.
I left without saying another word.
---
The second I stepped through the school gates, I could already feel today dragging its feet behind me. The hallway buzzed with noise, kids clustered near lockers, phones glowing, teachers pretending not to notice contraband snacks being traded like black-market goods.
And then, of course, he showed up.
"Val, love of my most dramatic nightmares," Avinav said, falling into step beside me with his usual overconfident grin. "Quick favor."
I didn't even look at him. "No."
"You don't even know what it is."
"I know that it's coming from you. So—no."
He held up his phone like it was a golden ticket. "Look. I may or may not have signed a totally fake request form and switched out your History class this week with mine."
I stopped dead in the hallway. "You what?"
He nodded, zero shame. "Yeah, so you're in today's Tuesday slot instead of your usual Friday, and I—generously—took yours. Don't worry, the signatures are believable. I even added that little curl your dad uses when he signs your forms."
I blinked. "That's… disturbingly impressive."
"Thank you."
"Still no."
"C'mon. It's one period. And it needs to happen."
That gave me pause.
I narrowed my eyes. "Needs to happen... why?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets, too casual. "Let's just say I'm doing God's work. Or Cupid's. Or Chaos'."
"I hate you."
"You'll thank me later."
Spoiler: I didn't.
---
We got to the rink late—obviously. By then, the rest of the figure skating group had already started warm-ups and Coach Marla was glaring like she wanted to yeet me into a snowbank.
"You're seven minutes late, Deluca."
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Instead, I tilted my head toward Avinav, eyes narrowed in betrayal.
Do something, I silently screamed at him.
He blinked at me, smiled sweetly, and mouthed, sorry.
Coward.
I slipped on my skates in record time, skating onto the ice mid-stretch, ignoring the burning behind my eyes and the sharpness in Marla's voice.
And then… that feeling again.
Eyes. Watching.
I turned my head and there he was—Theo Dodge, leaning against the boards with his helmet under one arm, pretending not to look at me but absolutely looking at me.
The way his gaze traveled over the ice—over me—wasn't soft. It was calculating. Like he was keeping score.
Fine. Let him.
---
After practice, I barely had time to dry my hair before History.
I stormed into class, still annoyed, expecting my usual back row seat near the window.
But nope.
Theo Dodge. Already sitting there.
The teacher looked up. "Miss Deluca, take your seat."
I glanced around. There was only one seat left.
Right next to him.
I exhaled sharply, dragged my feet across the floor, and sat. Rigid. Cold. Like the chair would bite me.
Theo didn't say anything. But I could feel the smirk radiating off him like heat from a flame.
I shot one last look at Avinav across the room, who was not even in this class, and he just waved with a little finger wiggle and the biggest grin I've ever wanted to punch.
This was going to end so badly.