In the car, I'm silent sitting in the back seat with Jake while Ollie navigates up front for Nate. The night air whispers through my cracked window, carrying lingering scents of carnival sugar. I catch Nate's eyes in the rearview mirror more than once, dark and concerned, searching my reflection like he's reading a book written in a language only he understands.

"Everything okay?" Jake's voice cuts through my haze as we near home.

I muster a weak smile. "Yeah, just tired."

Jake frowns slightly, too knowing. "You were so set on staying home tonight. What changed?"

I glance toward Nate, who's focused on the road, his profile carved in shadows and streetlight. The muscles in his jaw work slightly—he's listening to every word.

"You were right. I needed a distraction," I admit, the truth slipping out. "Nate was heading out anyway and offered a ride."

He doesn't look too convinced, but thankfully he doesn't press me for more.

"Tomorrow, wanna hang out? Just you and me?"

I feel Nate's eyes on me through the rearview mirror. I'm too afraid to make eye contact with him in case he reads something on my face I don't want him to see.

"Sure, sounds like a plan," I say with a smile that's reciprocated by Jake.

When we finally pull into the driveway, I mumble a quick goodnight to everyone and make a beeline for the bathroom. I stand under the hot shower longer than necessary, letting the water wash away the night’s tension, hoping it might also clear my head. With damp hair and skin still flushed from the heat, I slip into my pyjamas and pad down the hallway toward my bedroom. Wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed and disappear, the last thing I expect to see is Nate sitting on the edge of my bed, gently stroking my old stuffed animal Bones. The sight of him—this boy who embodies both danger and safety—cradling something so innocent from my childhood makes my chest ache with unnamed feelings.

"Sorry.” Nate quickly sets Bones down, then looks up with an intensity that catches me off guard, his hazel eyes burning like amber in firelight. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." His usual guarded demeanor has softened, leaving him looking unexpectedly vulnerable.

"I'm good," I mumble too quickly, avoiding his eyes that always see too much. "Just a long day."

"I thought we already figured out you have a terrible poker face," he says, playful but concerned. It doesn't lighten the mood. Instead, it feels like he's peeling back layers I've tightly wound around myself.

He takes my hand in his, the unexpected touch sending electricity racing up my arm. He leans in, his voice dropping to a soft whisper that wraps around me like a familiar blanket.

"Listen, I know I haven't given you many reasons to trust me lately... but you can talk to me, Nora. Whatever it is, I'll listen."