Jason narrowed his eyes at Cole from across the empty bleachers, one skate half-laced as he paused mid-tie.“You’ve been quiet,” Jason muttered. “Too quiet.”

Cole didn’t look up. He simply shrugged, tightening the strap on his glove.

“Just trying something new.”

Jason’s heart skipped because he knew Cole.

Cole didn’t try things.

Cole executed things.

“What do you mean new?” Jason asked, voice tight. “Because Clara… she hasn’t complained about you in a week. A week, Cole.”

He leaned in, whispering harshly, “That’s not normal.”

Cole huffed a soft laugh, leaning back on the bench.

“That was the point.”

Jason froze. His fingers went numb around the worn leather of his skate.

“No. No, no, don’t pull that psychological mind-game nonsense on her,” he said, pointing at Cole. “Leave my sister’s brain alone.”

Cole finally looked up at him — slow, steady, and annoyingly calm.

“I’m not messing with her head,” he said. “I’m just… giving her space. Letting her see me properly.”

Jason hated how that scared him.

Cole was not the kind of guy who got invested easily.

If he was doing this, then he was all-in.

“So what exactly is this tactic?” Jason asked.

Cole just smiled — but not the cocky one Jason was used to.

This one was quiet. Focused. Intent.

“You’ll know when she knows.”

Jason swore under his breath.

That didn’t reassure him.

Not even a little bit.

Because if Cole had decided to go slow and intentional…

Clara didn’t stand a chance.

The rink was loud and cold, but Clara couldn’t remember why she came.

She told herself it was just because Jason asked her to stop by — that was all.

But her eyes found Cole immediately.

He moved like the ice belonged to him.

Sharp turns, effortless control, focused expression.

He looked… different.

Serious.

Not the annoying boy who always tried to get her attention.

And before she realized it, the corners of her lips were lifting.

A smile.

A real one.

Her chest warmed and tightened at the same time.

She hugged her arms around herself, trying to will away the feeling.

When the match ended, groups of girls rushed forward, laughing and eager, offering water bottles, towels, anything that gave them an excuse to be close to him.

Clara’s warmth twisted into something sharp.

Jealousy.

She felt her face heat up, her jaw tighten — she didn’t even understand why it bothered her so much.

She didn’t want him, so why did it hurt to see someone else want him?

Before she could think, she turned on her heel and walked away — fast.

The campus café was noisy with the late-morning rush, students weaving around tables, the smell of coffee thick in the air. Jason spotted Lily immediately — bright sweater, hair tied loosely, a stack of books beside her, humming softly to herself as she typed on her laptop.

She had that atmosphere — gentle, warm, easy to approach. Exactly the type of person who wouldn’t notice when she was being interrogated.

Jason exhaled, straightened his jacket, and walked toward her.

“Hey,” he said, casually. “Mind if I sit?”

Lily blinked up, surprised — then smiled. “Oh, Jason! Sure— yeah, sit.”

Her smile was so genuine it almost made him feel guilty.

Almost.

Jason signaled to the barista. “What are you drinking?”

“Oh— um, caramel iced latte,” she said.

“Another one of those,” he told the barista, sliding his card.

Lily’s eyes widened. “You didn’t have to—”

“It’s fine,” he waved off, sitting beside her. “So… how’s Clara?”

He tried to sound casual. It came out too direct.

Lily didn’t notice.

“Oh! She’s fine—I think? She was studying last night. And she talked a bit more than usual. I think her mood’s getting better.”

Jason nodded slowly, absorbing that. Clara’s mood changing… that could only mean one thing.

Cole.

He took a sip of his drink. “So… she’s been talking more, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lily nodded, beaming. “It’s really nice to see. Clara usually bottles everything inside, you know? So any time she opens up, even if it’s small, it feels like progress.”

Jason swallowed. That hit harder than he expected.

“Yeah… She does that.”

Lily rested her chin on her palm. “I’m just glad she’s healing. I’ve been worried.”

Jason blinked. Healing. The word felt heavier than he was ready for.

He cleared his throat. “Does she… uh… mention anyone? Maybe someone who’s helping her feel better?”

He tried to sound natural.

He failed spectacularly.

Lily just smiled, clueless. “Actually… yeah.”

Jason’s pulse jumped. “Yeah?”

“She mentioned someone. Said he’s annoying and stubborn and always shows up where she is.” Lily laughed softly. “But she didn’t sound angry when she said it, just… confused.”

Jason stared at her.

Confused.

Not annoyed. Not furious.

That was… terrifying.

Lily continued, rambling without being asked, her voice sweet like sunlight. “And you know Clara — when she’s confused, it means she actually likes something. She never knows how to handle that.”

Jason leaned back, exhaling slowly. “So she’s… letting him in.”

Lily sipped her drink. “Maybe she needs someone to stay. Just once.”

Jason didn’t respond.

He didn’t have to.

The silence between them settled — not heavy, not awkward — just real.

After a moment, Lily tilted her head and smiled at him.

“You’re a good brother, you know.”

Jason blinked. “What?”

“You worry about her,” she said simply. “It’s sweet. She’s lucky to have you.”

Jason looked down into his cup, throat tight for reasons he didn’t expect.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I just want her to be okay.”

Lily nodded. “She will be.”

No hesitation. No doubt.

Just belief.

Jason watched her — he realized Lily’s kindness wasn’t naivety.

It was strength.