Jax's P.O.V.
I couldn’t sleep. I’d spent the last hour staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over again in my head. The slap, the shouting, Ava’s confession—it all seemed so far away now, like a bad dream finally over.
But it wasn’t Ava or the chaos of the day that kept me awake. It was her.
Sam.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her—how strong she’d been, standing up to Ava in the middle of all that madness. How, even after everything, she still managed to hold her head high. I missed her laugh, her sharp wit, the way her eyes softened when she let her guard down.
And more than that, I missed us.
The truth was, I’d gone to her room for more than just an apology. I wanted to fix things between us, to make her see that she wasn’t alone in this. I was done with all the misunderstandings, the unspoken tension. If we were going to survive this insanity, I needed her to know I was in it with her, no matter what.
But as I stepped into her room, the last thing I expected was for everything to come crashing down around us.
I sat on the edge of her bed, my eyes on Sam as she fiddled with her phone, the soft glow illuminating her face. For a moment, I allowed myself to think about how hopeful I’d been just a few minutes ago. There was no denying the pull between us—something neither of us could explain nor resist. When I stepped into her room tonight, I wasn’t just looking for closure. I was looking for a fresh start, one where we didn’t have to walk on eggshells or dodge sideways glances.
The way she looked at me earlier, the way she let her guard down for just a second—it made me believe we could have that. That no matter how complicated things were, we’d figure it out.
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees. “Sam,” I started, my voice quieter than I intended. “Earlier, I thought… I thought we were in a good place again. And maybe I’m reading this wrong, but—”
Her phone vibrated sharply against the bedspread, cutting me off. Sam barely glanced at it at first, brushing it aside like it wasn’t important. But then it buzzed again. And again. A third time.
“What’s going on?” I asked, frowning.
Sam picked up the phone, her brow furrowed. Her thumb swiped across the screen, and whatever she saw made her go utterly still. The color drained from her face, her lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came out.
“Sam?” I pressed, my stomach knotting at her reaction. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she turned the phone toward me, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
It was a picture—that picture. The one from that stupid game of truth or dare. The one I’d spent weeks hoping would never see the light of day. Sam and I were frozen in a moment we never should have shared, our faces too close, the kiss unmistakable.
“Where did you—?” My voice faltered as the screen lit up again with more notifications.
“It’s everywhere,” Sam said, her voice barely above a whisper. She sounded like she was in shock, her hands trembling as she held the phone. “It’s been sent to the group chat. The entire school’s group chat.”
My pulse raced as I snatched the phone from her, scrolling through the messages. Reactions ranged from shock to outright disgust. Some messages were mocking, others accusatory, and a few were downright cruel.
“Ew, siblings??”
“Guess we know who won’t be at the next family reunion!”
“Jax, dude, WTF.”
My jaw clenched as I tried to wrap my head around it. Someone had to have been sitting on this photo, waiting for the right moment to blow it up. Ava was the obvious culprit, but I had no proof—just a growing pit in my stomach.
“This can’t be happening,” Sam whispered, sinking onto the bed beside me. She looked like she was about to break apart, her hands gripping her phone like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “Jax, what do we do?”
I didn’t have an answer. My mind was a chaotic mess of anger, fear, and guilt. I’d been so focused on making things right between us that I hadn’t even considered the fallout from our past mistakes.
My hand instinctively found hers, and I squeezed it tightly. “We’ll figure this out,” I promised, even though I had no idea how.
But as the phone continued to buzz, its screen lighting up with notification after notification, I realized one thing for certain: this was only the beginning of a nightmare we couldn’t escape.
Sam's hand was cold in mine, her fingers trembling as the weight of what had just happened settled between us. Every buzz of her phone felt like a slap, each notification a reminder of how fast this wildfire was spreading. I wanted to take her pain, her fear, and erase it all, but there was no undoing this.
She let out a shaky breath, her voice cracking as she whispered, “It’s over, Jax. Everything. This… whatever this is—it’s ruined now.”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I intended. I turned to her, my grip on her hand tightening. “Don’t say that, Sam. We’ve made it through worse.”
She laughed bitterly, tears shining in her eyes. “Worse? Jax, this isn’t just rumors or whispers in a hallway. This is proof. Everyone knows now. They’re going to think—” She broke off, burying her face in her hands.
“They can think whatever they want,” I shot back, anger flaring in my chest. “We know the truth. That’s all that matters.”
Sam dropped her hands, her gaze locking with mine. “Is it? Because I don’t think you understand what this means. For you. For me. For our family.” Her voice rose, the panic spilling out of her like a dam breaking. “Your dad… my mom… how are they supposed to—”
The sound of footsteps outside the door froze both of us. Heavy, deliberate. My heart pounded as I realized who it had to be.
“Jax?” my dad’s voice called from the hallway, deep and firm. “Are you in there?”
Sam’s eyes widened, her panic shifting to something worse—pure dread. I stood up quickly, moving toward the door as quietly as I could.
“Yeah,” I called back, trying to keep my tone casual. “Just talking to Sam about school stuff.”
There was a pause, then the unmistakable creak of the floorboards as my dad moved closer. “I’ve been hearing some… interesting things tonight,” he said, his tone pointed. “Maybe you should come out here.”
Sam stood up behind me, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Her face was pale, her eyes pleading with me to do something—anything—to fix this before it spiraled further out of control.
“I’ll be right there,” I said quickly, my mind racing.
The footsteps receded, but the tension didn’t ease. I turned back to Sam, who was now pacing the small room like a caged animal.
“This is bad,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “This is so, so bad.”
“It’s not over,” I said, though even I wasn’t sure I believed it. “We just need to get ahead of it. Figure out who sent it—why they sent it—and deal with them.”
Sam stopped pacing, her gaze hardening. “You know who it is. We both do.”
Ava. Her name hung in the air, unspoken but undeniable. She’d been behind everything else, and this was her ultimate move—the one she knew would hit hardest.
Before I could respond, Sam’s phone buzzed again. She glanced at the screen, her expression crumpling.
“It’s my mom,” she said, her voice barely audible. “She’s asking me to come downstairs.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of what was coming crashing down on me. This wasn’t just about the picture anymore. It was about everything we’d been trying to hide, everything we’d been fighting to protect.
And now, there was no hiding. No protecting.
“Whatever happens,” I said, stepping closer to her, “we face it together.”
Sam’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw the same fire that had drawn me to her from the start. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the overwhelming fear of what was coming next.
“Together,” she echoed, though her voice trembled with uncertainty.
I reached for her hand again, holding on tightly as we stepped toward the door, bracing ourselves for the fallout waiting on the other side.
“Jax!” My dad’s voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and impossible to ignore.
I froze.
Every instinct screamed to act, to do something, but all I could do was look at Sam. Her wide eyes mirrored the panic I felt.
This was it.
“Downstairs. Now.”