Chapter 28: Emmett

It had been a month. A month of grinding at the gym and training on the field until the sun dipped below the horizon. A month of staying away from parties and avoiding every girl who tried to flirt with me. This could be my last season playing football, and something about that was bittersweet.

The work paid off, though—we had won all our playoff games, and now we were heading to the championship. The pep rally, the parade—it all felt surreal. As captain, I couldn't have been prouder of the team.

Focusing on football made it easier to ignore the gnawing ache in my chest every time I thought about Tasha. We hadn't spoken in weeks, not since the library. But today, I couldn't avoid her. It was presentation day.

For some reason, I got to class early, hoping to talk to her. Just about the project, I told myself. Nothing else. But she didn't walk in until the bell rang, slipping into the seat beside me without a word. The silence was deafening.

"Alright, class," Mr. Wesley called out with his usual energy. "You know what day it is!"

"Free A+ day!" someone shouted from the back, earning a round of cheers.

"You wish!" Mr. Wesley laughed. "Let's get started. I'll call your names, and when it's your turn, come up and present."

One by one, the pairs went up. Some stumbled through their slides, while others nailed it. Finally, our names were called.

Tasha stood before I did, walking confidently to the front of the room. I followed, handing Mr. Wesley my flash drive. The slideshow appeared on the screen, and I couldn't help but admire how beautiful it looked. She'd done most of the design work—she always had an eye for details.

Tasha turned to face the class, her expression calm and poised. "Our presentation is about the Greek myth of Persephone and Hades," she began.

We took turns going through the slides, answering the required questions. Everything was smooth, professional, until we reached the opinion section.

Tasha's voice grew sharper, her words deliberate. "I believe their story is often misunderstood. Most people think it's a love story, but it's not. Hades wasn't in love with Persephone—he was obsessed with her. It was one-sided, selfish. Persephone didn't even remember him when they first met. To her, he was just another god, nothing special."

The room fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.

I blinked, thrown off by her take. Tasha used to gush about this story, calling it her favorite myth. She always described it as a tale of love, not obsession. Hearing her now felt like watching her tear down something she once cherished.

"Mr. Pierce?" Mr. Wesley's voice snapped me back to the moment.

"Huh?"

"Your take on the story?"

I glanced at Tasha, then back at the class. "Well," I started slowly, "I think it might've started out as a one-sided love." My eyes flicked to her again. "But after Persephone saw Hades' world and got to know him, she realized there was more to him than she thought. He was supportive, charming in his own way. And in the end, after spending time in his world, neither of them could ever go back to who they were before."

The class clapped as Mr. Wesley smiled. "That was a great discussion. I knew pairing you two would work out."

I glanced at Tasha, but she kept her gaze fixed on Mr. Wesley, her expression unreadable.

When the bell rang, she was out the door before I could say anything. By the time I caught up, she was walking with Damien, laughing at something he said. He kept touching her arm lightly, and she didn't pull away.

It felt like the world slowed down, every movement magnified. She wasn't angry or avoiding him like she had with me. She was... normal.

I turned the other way, brushing off people trying to talk to me. My chest felt tight, like I couldn't catch my breath. Seeing her happy with him—seeing her happy without me—was worse than I expected.

The rest of the day dragged like a cloud hanging over me. When I finally got home, the dining table was already set, but I didn't feel like eating.

"Honey, what's wrong?" my mom asked as I shuffled past.

"Nothing. I think I'll head to bed early," I muttered.

I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. The presentation was over. Tasha had no reason to talk to me anymore, and it was clear she didn't want to.

The door creaked open, and Isla walked in, smirking as she sat on the couch. She crossed her arms and legs, studying me like she already knew the answer to her question.

"Why so glum, brother?"

"I don't know," I sighed, clutching a pillow.

"Tasha told me you two presented your project today."

"Yeah. Wait—how do you know that?" I asked, my tone sharper than I intended.

Isla shrugged, her smirk growing. "Just because she stopped talking to you doesn't mean she stopped talking to me. Mom and I even have a group chat with her."

I groaned, my face falling into the pillow. Isla burst out laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" I mumbled.

"Because you miss her," she teased, leaning forward.

"I do. So what?" I snapped.

"I told you you'd regret it," she said smugly.

"What are you talking about? I just miss hanging out with her. You know, like friends do," I argued weakly.

Isla scoffed. "Right. Let's test that theory. How do you feel when you're around her?"

I frowned, but answered anyway. "Happy. She makes me smile. And even though she's shy, she's full of surprises when you get to know her. I can just... be myself around her."

Isla coughed dramatically, her smirk turning into a full grin.

"You're in love with her," she declared.

I arched a brow. "How would you know that?"

"You just gushed about her like she's the last slice of pizza at a party. And, for the record, you let her touch your radio. You don't let anyone touch your radio."

The realization hit me like a freight train, and I clutched the pillow tighter.

"I'm so stupid," I muttered. "What am I supposed to do now? She won't even look at me."

Isla stood, heading for the door. "Simple, big brother. Beg for her forgiveness."