Page 97 of Offside Attraction

The sound echoes through the room, and for a moment, everything else fades away. My breathing is heavy, my chest tight, and I realize my hands are clenched into fists at my sides.

“Then say it,” I challenge, my voice low, my anger simmering but controlled. “If you regret it so much, then just say it.”

But Hayes doesn’t. He just stares at me, his jaw working, his fists clenched, as if the words are stuck in his throat. The silence stretches on, heavy and suffocating, and I hate how much I want him to say something—anything—that will make this anger go away.

“Yeah,” I mutter, breaking the silence. “That’s what I thought.” I scoff, turning away from Hayes and walking back to my seat, my footsteps heavy with frustration.

The door creaks open, and Mr. Callahan steps back in, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the scene. “I trust there wasn’t any trouble while I was gone?”

Hayes steps back, his expression unreadable as he turns toward his desk. “No trouble at all.”

I drop into the chair, glaring at the desk in front of me, trying to shove the tension still burning in the air out of my head.

I glance toward the clock, wishing the time would move faster, wishing detention would end already so I can get the hell out of here. But the seconds seem to drag, each one stretching longer than the last, mocking me.

But I know that even if I leave, I’m not escaping this. Whatever’s happening between me and Hayes isn’t going away, and it’s only getting harder to ignore.

I can still feel the heat of his stare on the side of my face, and I don’t know if I want to confront him again or walk out of here and never look back. But I can’t deny the truth anymore: every time we clash, there’s something underneath the anger, something electric that’s pulling us closer, no matter how hard I try to fight it.

And the worst part? A small, reckless part of me doesn’t want to fight it at all.

The silence is unbearable, broken only by the faint tick of the clock and the occasional rustle of papers from Mr. Callahan, who’s still buried in whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone. The tension between Hayes and me feels like it’s choking the room, but I’m not going to be the one to break it.

Finally, Hayes moves, the scrape of his chair against the floor grating in the quiet room as he sits down a few seats away. I glance at him for half a second—just long enough to see the tightness in his jaw and the flicker of something I can’t quite place in his expression. Regret? Anger? I don’t know, and I don’t care.

I look away, gripping my pen like it’s the only thing anchoring me to reality. This is just another mess Hayes Griffin has dragged me into, and the sooner detention ends, the sooner I can put it behind me.

Or so I tell myself.

CHAPTER 25

Silence.

I’ve been craving this silence since I walked through the double doors of Crestview. It’s rare, almost impossible to find here, where the halls are always buzzing with chatter, the classrooms filled with whispers and the occasional burst of laughter. But now, sitting in this empty stairwell, away from the chaos of the rest of the world and the suffocating weight of everything else, I finally have a moment to breathe.

The faint hum of voices drifts from somewhere far off, muffled by the thick walls, but it doesn’t reach me here. This little pocket of stillness feels like my own secret corner of the world, a place where I can exist without the expectations, the stares, or the reminders of Hayes Griffin.

I lean my head back against the cool metal railing, closing my eyes. I inhale the smoke from my cigarette, filling my lungs withnicotine, as I exhale the puff of smoke through my nostrils and mouth. The quiet wraps around me, soothing and steadying, as I try to untangle the mess in my head. But, of course, silence isn’t as empty as it seems. It’s full of the things I’ve been trying to ignore—the memory of Hayes’ smirk, the way his eyes lingered on me, and the heat in my chest when I refused to look away.

I let out a sharp breath, trying to will the thoughts away, but they cling stubbornly. It’s not just Hayes, though he’s a big part of it. My phone buzzes in my pocket, breaking the stillness. I pull it out and glance at the screen: a text from Seth.

Seth:How’s it going? Do I need to come rescue you?

I smirk despite myself, my fingers hovering over the screen as I consider my reply. Seth’s always been my lifeline, the one person I can count on to cut through the noise. But even he doesn’t know the full extent of what’s been happening lately—not yet, anyway.

Me:I’m good. Just needed some air.

I hit send, knowing it’s only half the truth. The phone buzzes again almost instantly.

Seth:Air? Or a break from Hayes?

My stomach twists at the name, even in text form, and I lock my phone without replying. The silence feels heavier now, pressing down on me as I let my head fall back against the railing again. I pull the bud of the cigarette and toss it to the floor, dragging my shoe across it to put it out. I pull out another cigarette and slip it in between my lips as I light the end. I take a long drag before exhaling the smoke through my parted lips.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps, followed by curses, and I quickly look up. I can’t tell who it is from where I’m sitting, but it’s obvious this person is about to disrupt my quiet sanctuary. The footsteps grow louder, echoing against the walls, and I catch a glimpse of heels clicking against the stairwell floor. Whoever itis, they’re not in a great mood, judging by the string of muttered curses that follows.

I sit up straighter, my heart sinking. Of all the places in Crestview, this stairwell has always been my escape, my refuge. And now, someone’s about to barge in and ruin it.

“Dakota?” A voice calls and Shay steps into view.