"He’s going to jump."

Mason’s voice was a tinny scratch against my palm. "Eliana, did you hear me? Jax accepted the challenge. He’s going to dive off the Quarry Cliffs to get Catalina’s charm bracelet. In this storm, it’s not a dare. It’s suicide."

I stared at the wall of the library study room. The paint was peeling in the corner, revealing the cold, gray concrete beneath—a decaying facade, just like everything else.

"Why are you telling me this, Mason?"

"Because he listens to you," Mason pleaded, his breath hitching. "Stop him."

"He doesn't listen to me," I said, my voice flat. "He listens to her."

I hung up.

By all logic, my heart should have been racing. I should have been sprinting across campus, screaming his name, begging him not to risk his life for a piece of silver. But my pulse was steady. Slow. Terrifyingly even.

I walked out of the library and into the courtyard. The air was thick with humidity, heavy enough to choke on.

Catalina was waiting for me. Of course she was.

She was perched on a stone bench, legs crossed, watching a livestream on her phone. She wasn't looking at the screen with fear. She was looking at it with hunger.

"He looks good, doesn't he?" she asked as I approached. She didn't bother to look up. "Standing on the edge like that. A real knight."

"You're going to get him killed," I said.

She laughed. It was a dry, scratching sound, like dead leaves skittering on pavement.

"I'm not doing anything, Eliana. I just told him I was sad about losing my bracelet. He’s the one who decided to be a hero. That’s the thing about Jax. He needs to bleed to feel useful."

She turned the phone toward me.

On the small screen, Jax stood on the jagged edge of the quarry. The wind whipped his shirt against his chest. He looked small. Fragile.

"I trained him well," Catalina whispered, her eyes gleaming. "Since we were ten. If I cried, he jumped. If I bled, he stitched me up. You think you love him? You just love the version of him I built."

A wave of nausea hit me. Not because of the danger, but because of the truth. I wasn't fighting for his heart. I was fighting for control, and she held the remote.

"He won't do it," I said, though the words tasted like ash. "He has the championship game next week. He wouldn't risk his scholarship."

"Watch," she challenged.

On the screen, Jax stepped closer to the edge. He looked terrified.

"Call him," Catalina taunted. "See who he picks."

My thumb moved on instinct. I pulled out my phone and dialed.

On the livestream, I saw Jax freeze. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He looked at the screen.

*Elie Bear.*

I held my breath. For one second, just one, I thought he might step back. I thought he might choose the championship, his future, me.

He looked at the phone. Then he looked at the water below, where Catalina’s bracelet supposedly lay.

He didn't answer.

He tapped the red icon.

My phone beeped. *Call Ended.*

On the screen, Jax tossed his phone onto the grass and dove.

Catalina squealed in delight, clutching her phone to her chest. "Did you see that? He hung up! He hung up on you to jump for me!"

I looked at my phone. The black screen reflected my face. I wasn't crying.

I was smiling.

It was a small, terrifying smile. The kind you give when the doctor finally tells you the disease is terminal, and you can finally stop hoping for a cure.

"You win, Cat," I whispered.

But she didn't hear me. She was too busy cheering for the splash.

The campus was buzzing with the news. _Jax the Hero. Jax the Legend._

He had retrieved the bracelet. In the process, he had also dislocated his shoulder and required six stitches in his leg after colliding with a submerged rock.

I sat on the edge of my bed in the dorms, staring down into the open suitcase. My flight to New York was booked for tomorrow morning.

One way.

A knock sounded at the door.

I knew who it was before I even turned the handle. The heavy, uneven footsteps gave him away.

Jax stood there, his arm in a sling, a stark white bandage plastered across his forehead. He looked like a war hero. He looked exhausted.

"You're hard to find," he said, leaning heavily against the doorframe for effect. "You weren't at the hospital."

"I was busy," I said flatly.

He limped into the room, uninvited. He placed a small, sleek white box on my desk. It was the latest iPhone.

"I got you this," he said. "Mason said your battery was dying. I thought... you know, since I haven't been around much."

It was a bribe. A shiny, expensive bribe meant to mask the stench of blood and betrayal.

"I don't need a phone, Jax."

"Just take it, Eliana. Please." He sounded desperate. "I want you to have nice things."

I picked up the box. It felt heavy, like a brick.

"Thanks."

He sat on my bed, wincing theatrically as his leg shifted. "So, the doctor said I need to rest for a few weeks. No football. I was thinking we could finally watch that movie series you like. Just lay in bed, order pizza. Like old times."

He was trying to reset the game. He thought if he pressed the right combination of buttons, I would reboot to the previous version of Eliana—the one who fetched him ice packs and kissed his bruises.

"I can't," I said.

"Why? You have class?"

"I'm sick," I lied. The words came easily now, smooth and practiced. "It's a stomach bug. Contagious."

He frowned, looking at me with those dark, soulful eyes that used to make my knees weak. Now, they just looked empty.

"You're always sick lately," he muttered. "You need to take better vitamins."

"Yeah," I said. "I do."

He stood up, awkwardly maneuvering his injured body.

"Well, I better go. Cat is... she's freaking out about the stitches. She faints at the sight of blood, you know. I need to go calm her down."

"Of course," I said. "Go."

He paused at the door, hand on the frame.

"You're not mad about the jump, are you? I had to do it, El. It was her grandmother's bracelet."

It wasn't.

It was a Pandora charm she had bought at the mall last week. I knew because I had the receipt wadded up in my trash can from when I’d helped her clean out her bag.

"I'm not mad, Jax," I said. And I meant it. Anger requires investment. I was bankrupt.

"Good," he smiled, offering a relieved, boyish grin. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay."

He left.

I waited until I heard his footsteps fade down the hall, swallowed by the distance. Then, I picked up the iPhone box and dropped it into the donation bin I had set aside for the dorm charity drive.

I pulled my suitcase zipper shut.

The sound was sharp. Final.

He thought he had won a victory. He didn't realize he was standing in a graveyard.

The text came at 8:00 PM.

*Come downstairs. Please. - Jax*

I shouldn't have gone. My flight was in twelve hours, and I should have been sleeping, or at least pretending to. But some part of me—the part that still remembered the ache of being sixteen and desperately in love—needed to see the end.

I pulled on a coat and walked down to the courtyard.

It was dark, but the pavement glowed, illuminated by hundreds of tea lights arranged in a massive heart shape. Soft music drifted from a Bluetooth speaker—our song. The one we danced to at prom.

Jax was standing in the center of the heart, holding a single red rose. I noticed immediately that he wasn't wearing his sling. He must have discarded it for the aesthetic, enduring the throb of his injury just to sell the scene.

"Eliana," he said, his voice thick with rehearsed emotion. "I know things have been rough. I know I messed up. But I want to remind you of how we started."

He took a step forward. "Do you remember? The park? The rain? You said you wanted a fairy tale."

I stood just outside the circle of candles. I felt like an audience member at a play I had seen too many times.

"Jax," I started.

*BOOM.*

A firework exploded overhead. Then another. Red and gold sparks showered the night sky, lighting up the dorm windows like strobe lights. Students were looking out, cheering.

It was grand. It was expensive. It was perfect.

And it felt completely wrong.

"Did you like it?"

The voice didn't come from Jax.

Catalina stepped out from behind a large oak tree. She was holding a tablet, her thumb hovering over the volume control. She walked right into the candlelight, standing next to Jax as if taking her curtain call.

"I picked the fireworks," she beamed, looking at me. "Gold is your favorite color, right? And I told Jax he had to ditch the sling. It ruins the aesthetic."

My stomach dropped through the floor.

Jax looked at her, then at me. "Cat helped me set it up. She wanted it to be perfect for you, El."

"I planned the whole thing," Catalina corrected him, linking her arm through his. "He was going to just buy chocolates. Boring. I told him, 'No, Eliana needs a show.'"

She looked at me with a predator's grin. "You're welcome."

I looked at Jax. He wasn't embarrassed. He was grateful. He looked at Catalina with awe, thankful that she had stage-managed his romance for him.

"See?" Jax said to me, his eyes wide and earnest. "We both care about you."

The realization hit me like a physical blow. There was no us. There was never an us. There was only Jax and Catalina, and I was the audience they performed for.

"It's beautiful," I said. My voice was hollow.

"I knew you'd love it!" Catalina clapped. "Now, give her the rose, Jax. Kiss her. The lighting is perfect right now."

She was directing him. *Action.*

Jax stepped forward, extending the rose. "I love you, Elie Bear."

I looked at the rose. Then I looked up, seeing the invisible puppet strings attached to his limbs, leading straight to Catalina’s hands.

"Thank you for the show," I said.

I turned around and walked back into the building.

"Eliana?" Jax called out. "Where are you going? We haven't cut the cake!"

I didn't stop. I walked up the stairs, the sound of their confusion fading behind me.

I didn't pack the rose. I didn't pack the memory. I left them both burning on the pavement.