When Tate resumed school on Monday, she had no idea how to handle the whole situation with Damien and Martha. Guilt gnawed at her. She was the one who had given Damien the idea — so why did she feel like this?
Damien had been trying to reach her all weekend, but she ignored him. He shouldn't have kissed her. He complicated everything.
She walked into the classroom, hoping not to see either Damien or Martha.
To her relief, neither of them were there. She let out a breath and headed to her seat, pulling out her notes in an attempt to distract herself. Her phone buzzed in her bag. When she checked the caller ID, she saw Allen's name and smiled, curious why he was calling when they were supposed to be at school.
"Hello?" Tate answered.
"Hi, Tate," Allen's voice came through warmly.
"How come you're calling if you're at school?" she asked, already smiling.
"I'm not at school. I'm out with my mom."
"Oh. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just... wanted to hear your voice. Is that okay?"
Tate's chest tightened in the best way. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear something kind.
"Yeah," she said softly. "It's more than okay. Thank you."
"Are you free later?" Allen asked. "Maybe we could hang out?"
Tate hesitated only for a second. "Actually, I was about to ask you the same thing. Since I stood you up last time... let's go out after school."
"Really?" Allen's voice brightened. "We can go to the restaurant I picked before!"
"Sounds good," Tate said, feeling lighter than she had all morning. "I have to go now. See you later."
"Bye, Tate."
When the call ended, she realized she was still smiling. Maybe this was it — maybe spending time with someone as sweet as Allen was exactly how she'd finally get over Damien.
Her smile faded when she looked up and saw Damien standing there.
Shit. How long had he been standing there?
She quickly looked down at her phone, pretending not to notice him. Maybe if she ignored him, he would get the hint and leave.
But Damien didn't move. Instead, he spoke. "Who was that?"
Tate kept her head down, but Damien persisted, sitting beside her — back in his old seat like nothing had changed.
"I know you can hear me," he said.
Tate scanned the room, desperate for Martha to appear. But she was nowhere in sight.
Damien leaned closer. "Was that Allen?"
Tate felt a spark of anger. Damien always had some weird vendetta against Allen, and she was tired of it.
"So what if it was Allen?" she snapped, louder than she intended. A few classmates turned to look.
Damien's expression darkened. "Don't tell me you're seriously going out with him."
Tate let out a bitter laugh. "You asked Martha on a date — and you're mad that I'm hanging out with Allen? Damien, are you crazy?"
She never talked like this, but somehow, Damien always dragged that side of her out.
Damien looked frustrated. "I asked her because you suggested it — when we were making lunch. That was before our kiss."
Tate's face burned. She glanced around, realizing people were still paying attention. She couldn't let anyone overhear.
"Can we not have this conversation here?" she hissed. "Or better yet — can we not have a conversation at all? I don't want to talk to you."
Damien didn't budge. "I'm not leaving until we talk. We can go outside, or we can stay here. Your choice."
Tate looked around helplessly. Where was Martha when she needed her?
Seeing no other way out, she stood up sharply. "Fine. Let's go."
Without waiting for him, she strode out of the classroom. Damien followed closely behind.
She headed toward the football field — somewhere open, somewhere safe. She wasn't taking any chances.
When they finally reached an empty spot, Tate turned to face him.
"What exactly do you want from me, Damien?"
"I want to talk about everything," he said.
"There's nothing to talk about," Tate replied, arms crossed tightly over her chest.
"There's a lot," Damien insisted. "I hurt you, Tate, and I feel terrible. That night at the Winter Ball... I was drunk. I had three beers, and I was acting stupid. I saw you and Allen together, and it pissed me off. I don't even know why. I just know I was angry, and I said stupid things about you to those guys."
Tate stared at him, feeling anger bubble up. "If you really felt guilty, you wouldn't have waited until I confronted you. You're disgusting."
Damien ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I know I am. I'm sorry you heard what I said. I didn't mean it — any of it. I know I was a jerk when we first met, but I didn't realize how much it was affecting you."
Tate shook her head, her voice steady. "I appreciate the apology. But I don't want anything to do with you, Damien. You confuse me. One minute you're cold, the next you're not. I don't want someone like that in my life — someone who messes with my head."
She took a step back.
"And you like Martha, remember? You confessed that to me on this same football field."
Damien looked down. "I know... I know I said that."
"Then why the hell did you kiss me?" she demanded.
Damien stayed silent.
Tate let out a hollow laugh. "Right. No answer."
"Tate—" Damien began, but she cut him off.
"You don't need to say anything. I already know. And don't tell anyone about what happened at your house — especially not Martha. She's one of the few people who genuinely care about me. I'm not letting you ruin that. Promise me you won't say a word."
Damien, looking utterly defeated, nodded. "I promise."
Satisfied, Tate turned and walked away without looking back.
And for the first time, she felt powerful — proud. Proud that she said what needed to be said. Proud that she stood up for herself.
Sure, it still hurt that Damien hadn't answered her.
But maybe now... maybe this was really the end of whatever it was she had been holding onto.
By the time she returned to the classroom, class was already in session. Tate glanced at the clock, realizing she had missed the entire first period.
As she slipped into the room, Mr. Matthews looked up, his expression stern.
"Why are you just getting to class?"
Before Tate could respond, Damien walked in behind her.
"Damien," Mr. Matthews said, voice sharper. "Where were both of you?"
Tate froze, unsure what to say, but Damien spoke smoothly.
"I needed a book for our project, sir," he said. "I asked Tate to help me check it out from the library."
Mr. Matthews narrowed his eyes but eventually nodded. "Next time, wait until lunch. Go sit down."
Relieved, Tate hurried to her seat.
Martha leaned over and whispered, "Where were you guys? And don't lie — I went to the library earlier. You weren't there."
Tate forced a shrug. "We weren't together. He just said that to get Mr. Matthews off our backs."
Martha gave her a skeptical look but eventually nodded. "Okay," she said, although she didn't sound convinced.
Tate sighed quietly and focused on her notes, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside her.