Chapter 16

I stood there, blinking in confusion as the wind picked up, rushing past us. My gaze remained fixed on Mr. Lee, his words echoing in my mind. What did he mean? Does he know his son is going to die? But how could he? That makes no sense...

Just as I was about to ask, Mr. Lee let out a quiet chuckle. "I mean, he's a quiet and stubborn kid," he said, shaking his head before glancing back at his car. Then, his eyes returned to me, a knowing look in them. "But he seems to have changed a bit since meeting you."

My eyes widened slightly as realization dawned. That's what he meant? He wasn't talking about literally saving Jake—just in the way any parent would want to see their child happy. He could've worded it differently though. I nearly rolled my eyes at the thought.

Straightening my shoulders, I met his gaze head-on as the wind wove through my hair. "You're mistaken," I said firmly. "I didn't really do anything."

Honestly, I hadn't noticed a huge change in Jake. He still irritated me whenever he spoke, especially when he mocked me or just stared at me like I was some sort of inconvenience.

Mr. Lee only grinned, raising an eyebrow before shaking his head in amusement. "That's what you think."

He turned back to his car, running the cloth over a patch of dirt, his movements slow and deliberate. "You did more than you realize."

His words caught me off guard. More than I realize? I had never considered myself someone who could make a difference in Jake's life. From the moment I arrived in the past, it felt like I'd only been a disruption—an unwanted presence in his world. If anything, I thought I was making things worse.

But had I actually helped him? Even in some small way?

.

.

.

For the entire next week, I refused to leave Jake alone. Not even for a second. The way I hovered around him, always watching, always near, you'd think I was trying to stop him from taking his own life in the past. But that wasn't the case.

Not really.

"I bought you milk from the cafeteria!" I announced one day, appearing out of nowhere and shaking the bottle in his face.

Jake barely spared me a glance before rolling his eyes and walking past. "I don't drink that milk."

I frowned slightly as Chris, who had been strolling beside him, chuckled and plucked the bottle from my hand. "I'll give it to him." He offered with a smirk.

I narrowed my eyes, crossing my arms. "You're just going to drink it yourself."

Chris only laughed, walking off with the milk in hand. "Maybe."

Another day, I found Jake sitting under a tree, hunched over his journal, completely absorbed in whatever he was writing. The thick shade offered relief from the scorching heat, but I wasn't here to cool off.

I was here on a mission.

"What'cha writing?" I asked, suddenly appearing in front of him.

Jake nearly jumped, snapping his journal shut and pressing it against his chest. "Jesus..." He exhaled sharply, eyes glaring up at me. "You're like a little fly that keeps buzzing around."

I ignored his irritation and plopped down beside him. "You writing a song?"

His jaw clenched as he rolled his eyes. "It's none of your business."

I knew getting close to him—really close—was going to be a challenge. But I refused to back off just because he found me annoying. I was persistent in changing his past. And he was worth the effort.

Another day, another attempt.

"JAKEY!" I called down the hallway the moment I spotted him.

Students filled the corridor, but I weaved through them without hesitation, heading straight for Jake.

He clutched the strap of his bag tighter, leaning toward me with a glare. "Could you be any more embarrassing?" he muttered under his breath.

I only grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Jakey?" Chris, who had been leaning against a windows sill right beside Jake, tilted his head.

I glanced at him briefly. "Oh hey, Chris. Didn't see you there." Then, turning back to Jake, I pressed on. I knew the nickname was a bit much, but what did I really have to lose? I'm just trying to save a life here.

"Thanks, princess." Chris teased, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

I ignored him and focused on Jake, fluttering my lashes dramatically. "I heard they're serving pizza in the cafeteria today!" I said, as if revealing a great secret. "Want me to grab you some?"

Jake looked at me like I had just asked him to eat dirt. Like why am I bothering him with such nonsense.

"No." His voice was firm, almost dismissive. "I don't eat greasy food."

As he brushed past me, his gaze flicked downward, sweeping over me with a smirk. "Do you eat greasy food?"

The way he said it—his tone, the slow once-over, the smug amusement in his eyes—it was meant to mock me. As if greasy food was something disgusting. As if I was something disgusting for even suggesting it.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. Three long seconds of silent challenge. Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, still gripping the strap of his bag like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

I blinked after him. "Wait, where are you going?" I called, but he didn't look back. Didn't answer.

Chris pushed off the windowsill, stepping beside me with his arms crossed. "I bet you anything he's going to get a slice of pizza. Three, even."

I whipped my head toward him, mouth falling open. "That jerk!"

Jake knew what he was doing. He said that to taunt me.

Chris only grinned, clearly entertained.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to let it go. I can't let my personal feelings get in the way of this. Jake might be an obnoxious jerk—most of the time, if not all the time—but that didn't change the fact that I had to save him.

I had to protect him from his fate.

It was Thursday, and Jake was up to give a presentation. As he walked to the front of the class, I shot up from my seat, clapping aggressively like some crazed fangirl.

"Yay, Jake! You got this!" I cheered, ignoring the startled silence that followed.

A few girls exchanged whispers behind me. "Who does she think she is?" Their words were laced with irritation, but I didn't care.

The teacher laughed lightly, glancing at Jake, who stood stiffly at the front of the room, his grip tightening on his notebook. "Looks like you've got quite the fan." She said, clearly amused.

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face before hiding behind his notebook like it could shield him from the embarrassment.

But I wasn't done.

Every single day, I made it my mission to annoy him. I didn't care how much he groaned, rolled his eyes, or tried to ignore me. He might not have realized it yet, but I was doing this for him.

Someday, he'd thank me—even if he will never knew what I had done.

By Sunday, my persistence hadn't wavered.

I burst into his room without warning, only to be met with an exasperated shout.

"Okay, if you're going to keep doing this, at least knock first!" Jake snapped, yanking on his jacket with a sharp glare in my direction.

I leaned casually against the doorframe. "Well, you're not naked, are you?" I asked, eyeing his outfit. He was clearly heading out.

Jake scoffed, shaking his head. "I could have been!"

I tapped a finger on my chin, tilting my head in mock thought. "But you're not."

He stared at me like he was questioning all his life choices. "Whatever."

Grabbing his hat and guitar, he made his way to the door, only to find me still blocking it.

"Wait, where are you going?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Jake let out an exhausted groan. "I'm not telling you."

Sensing his growing irritation, I stepped aside, giving him room to pass. But as he brushed past me, I couldn't help but push one more time.

"But—"

"Don't follow me." He interrupted firmly, disappearing down the hall without a single glance back.

I let out a frustrated sigh, watching his retreating figure. This was so much harder than I expected, but I refused to give up. If I did, then all of this would have been for nothing.

Jake might be insufferable—moody, stubborn, and a total jerk most of the time—but even he didn't deserve the fate that awaited him.

I had to change it.

By Wednesday, I had been clinging to his side like an annoying shadow for over a week and a half. And yet, I had barely made any progress.

Jake was sitting on the bleachers with Chris, their conversation easy and natural. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Chris got to be close to Jake without even trying—because of their history, their bond. Meanwhile, I was fighting every single day just to break through that wall.

"Hey, Jake!" I called from the field, waving enthusiastically.

I was in my gym uniform, technically in the middle of class, but as I glanced back, I realize my gym teacher wasn't paying attention—perfect. Without a second thought, I darted across the field, sprinting toward the bleachers.

As I got closer, I heard Jake groan under his breath.

"Oh, God, no. Not again."

Chris let out a quiet snicker.

I only grinned, picking up speed.

Jake could groan all he wanted. I wasn't going anywhere.

I plastered on a cheerful smile, hands firmly placed on my hips as I surveyed the scene. "What are you two doing over there?"

Chris chuckled from his seat, leaning back lazily. "Oh? So you see me now?"

I rolled my eyes at his teasing. "My bad, I thought you were a rat from this angle!" but I couldn't help the small smile that tugged at my lips. Shaking my head, I made my way up the steps to join them. "The teacher had us running laps for thirty minutes!" I groaned dramatically, stepping right between them, squeezing myself into the tight space.

Chris chuckled again and made room, his broad grin never wavering, while Jake just gave me that familiar look of annoyance. He rubbed the palm of his hand over his face, like he was trying to ward off a headache.

"I'm exhausted!" I flopped back against the bleacher, looking up at the scorching sun.

Chris smirked, his eyes drifting down to my legs. "Has the girls' gym clothes always been this short?"

"Stop looking, you perv." I shot him a glare, my voice light but firm.

He laughed, shaking his head. "You're the one who decided to squeeze in here."

I raised an eyebrow and narrowed my eyes, playing along. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt some manly discussion?"

Chris immediately raised his hands in mock surrender, an exaggerated look of innocence on his face. I turned back to Jake.

"Did you write a new song?" I leaned in slightly, trying to catch his attention. But he refused to acknowledge me, purposefully looking in the opposite direction.

Chris grinned, watching us both with amusement. "He needs to release 'a song for tomorrow', officially."

I couldn't help the excitement that bubbled up inside me. "I know, right?" I leaned in a little closer to Jake, ignoring the tight space between us. "It was such a good song, really!"

Without meaning to, my body pressed against his. In that moment, I saw his ears flush a deep shade of red. But I chose to ignore it, pretending I didn't notice.

"Jake? You okay?" I asked softly, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression. He refused to look at me, his jaw set stubbornly, his gaze fixed firmly the other way. Anymore and his neck might snap.

I moved a little closer, leaning in even more, still attempting to get his attention. "Jake?"

I could feel the tension in the space between us, but I wasn't giving up. I leaned in so close when there was barely any room to move in the first place. I was practically apart of him. "Did you write a new song?"

Still, no response. He refused to look at me, his entire body turned away as if trying to avoid the question altogether. I tried not to let my frustration show. It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk, but I wasn't backing down.

Jake scooted over almost immediately, without a word. I shifted closer, determined. "Jake!"

He scooted again, further away this time. I followed, inching in closer, not willing to let him get away that easily. "Come on, answer me!"

He continues to scoot more as I keep following while trying to get his attention.

Scoot. Scoot. Scoot. And then—splat—Jake fell off the bench, his body hitting the ground with a thud as he ran out of space to move.

I jumped up, my heart racing. "Oh my God, Jake!" I hurried over to him, my hands hovering as I tried to check if he was okay. "Are you alright-"

Before I could touch him, he shot up, his face contorted with frustration. "Just shut up!" His voice was so loud it reverberated, echoing across the field where multiple practices were taking place. Football players, cheerleaders, and my gym class all froze, looking over toward the bleachers.

I stepped back, the sting of his words hitting me harder than I expected. I swallowed, my voice trembling. "But Jake, I—"

"Just stop!" he shouted, cutting me off. His eyes flashed with raw anger, an intensity I had never seen before. "Gosh, you're like an annoying, clingy girlfriend no one wants!"

My heart thudded painfully in my chest as his words kept coming, sharper and louder. "Disaster follows wherever you go!" The frustration and anger in his voice were like a punch to my gut. This wasn't the Jake I thought I knew. This was a Jake I didn't recognize—a version of him that hurt more than I was prepared for.

"And yet you keep showing up everywhere! It's insane!" He gritted his teeth, his voice rising in frustration. "Like take a damn hint!"

I glanced over at the field. Every single person was watching, the atmosphere so thick with tension it felt suffocating. The cheerleaders had stopped practicing, the football players huddled together, exchanging nervous glances. Even my gym teacher, usually quick to reprimand me when I'm not focusing in class, stood quietly off to the side.

"All you do is talk!" Jake continued, his voice still booming, filling the entire space. "Do you ever get tired? It's like you get off on annoying the hell out of people!"

He snatched his bag off the bench, his tone lowering just enough to carry over the stillness of the field, but it was still loud enough to make everyone hear. "Your personality is too much for me to handle."

I felt like the ground beneath me had cracked open, swallowing me whole. The words kept cutting deeper, and I could barely breathe.

Jake exhaled slowly, trying to regain some composure, but the damage had already been done. "We just don't match." He muttered, almost like a final verdict.

He looked at me one last time, shaking his head as if I were a mistake he had to distance himself from. Then he turned away, descending the steps and disappearing into the corner of the field, his back to me.

The silence in the air was deafening. My heart was still pounding, the sting of his words refusing to fade. I glanced over at Chris, who was staring at me with eyes full of sympathy. That look almost hurt more than anything else. It made it even worse.

Then, the chatter on the field started.

"Serves her right!" One of the cheerleaders called out loud enough for me to hear.

"Yeah. She thinks she can just get close to our Jake like that?" another one added, her voice dripping with venom. "When she's clearly not even his type!"

She glared her eyes at me with a grin.

"Girls, enough." a third one who seems to be the head cheerleader scolded, but not without a small grin. She looked back at me briefly, her smile almost smug. "She's embarrassed herself enough."

My eyes were glued to the field, watching the chaos unfold as everyone else tried to pretend like nothing was happening. My gym teacher had turned her back, the students awkwardly shifting around. It felt like a thousand eyes were on me, judging, whispering. The football players seemed to be huddled in an attempt to ignore the scene, while the cheerleaders just giggled amongst themselves, their words laced with pity and malice.

I let out a shaky breath, collapsing back onto the bench, my shoulders sagging under the weight of everything that had just happened. "I'm an awful person." I murmured under my breath, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

Chris leaned forward, his gaze softening as he studied me. "No, princess," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "A little crazy, maybe. But not an awful person."

I shot him a look, frustration bubbling up. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

He shrugged, unbothered by my tone. "Oh no, I don't do that."

I turned my gaze back to the front, my chest tight with a growing sense of emptiness. I couldn't count on anyone to make me feel better. I had no one to blame but myself. Jake had lashed out, and in some twisted way, it was all my fault. I had pushed too hard, tried too much, and now I didn't know what to do. How could I fix this? How could I ever make it right?

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