Chapter 3 – Tangled Strings of the Heart

The year Liya turned thirteen and Emmett turned fifteen, something began to shift between them—not drastically, but enough to make them pause, notice, and overthink.

Their bond, once defined by comfort and quiet understanding, now carried a strange tension. They sat together at lunch, shared music recommendations, and walked home side by side. But now, their hands would brush “accidentally” and linger a second longer. Their eyes met more often and darted away faster. They noticed each other more—Liya with the way Emmett ran his fingers through his hair when frustrated, and Emmett with the way Liya tucked her curls behind her ear when she was nervous.

And in the middle of it all was the music room.

It had become their unspoken haven. Liya would play the violin, her eyes closed, her emotions bleeding into every note. Emmett would listen, sometimes sketching in his notebook, sometimes just watching her like she was the only thing anchoring him.

On one particular Friday, Liya had stayed back after school for extra practice. Rain threatened the skies again, and her hands trembled slightly as she unpacked her violin.

Emmett noticed from the hallway.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping into the room.

She nodded, biting her lip. “I’m fine. Just... the rain.”

He didn’t press. Instead, he pulled out his sketchpad and sat near the window. “Play something?”

She did. A soft, trembling tune that eventually bloomed into a powerful melody. When she finished, Emmett was staring at her—not with surprise, but something softer. Quieter.

“You know,” he said, “when you play, the world kind of disappears.”

Liya looked down, cheeks turning pink. “That’s the point.”

“You’re not just playing,” he continued. “You’re speaking without words.”

She laughed, light but nervous. “Then I hope no one’s translating it wrong.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said. “But for what it’s worth, I think it sounds like… strength.”

Over the next few weeks, moments like these kept happening.

During a group study session in the library, Emmett noticed Liya rubbing her temple. Without a word, he passed her a chocolate bar and gently said, “Eat. You get cranky when you're low on sugar.” She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

One afternoon, their school hosted a friendly sports day. Emmett joined Macsen and Grayson for the 400-meter relay, while Liya and Anya signed up for the tug-of-war. When Liya tripped during practice and scraped her knee, Emmett ran from across the field, his panic evident.

“You okay?!” he crouched beside her, checking her leg with more concern than needed.

“It’s just a scratch,” she chuckled.

He huffed, “You scared the life out of me.”

The way he said it made her heart stutter for a second.

Later that evening, at the Jeffery residence, the whole group gathered to hang out—something they did often, like an unspoken tradition. They sprawled across beanbags, floor cushions, and couches in the home theatre room, watching reruns of old racing tournaments and arguing over which team had the best drivers.

Liya sat between Emmett and Anya, their shoulders just barely touching.

Emmett passed her popcorn. “I still can’t believe you think Team Chrome is better than Velocity Vortex.”

“They’re cleaner,” she said.

“They’re boring.”

“They’re strategic.”

He nudged her, and she nudged back, both smiling without looking at each other directly.

Grayson, noticing, smirked. “You two are acting like you’re in a teen drama.”

Macsen added, “Next thing you know, they’ll be holding hands under the table.”

Liya rolled her eyes. Emmett flushed. But no one denied it.

That night, Aiden cornered Emmett in the garage.

“You like her, don’t you?”

Emmett blinked. “Who?”

Aiden crossed his arms. “Don’t play dumb. You’re my cousin’s best friend, but she’s also my little sister. And she’s been through hell.”

“I know,” Emmett said quietly.

Aiden’s gaze softened. “Then don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” he said—and he meant it more than he’d meant anything before.

One late Sunday afternoon, the group headed to a quiet lake near the edge of town. It was a secret spot they'd found the summer before. Tall trees bordered the water, casting shadows that shimmered with the breeze. Grayson brought his guitar. Macsen dared everyone into a diving contest. Anya took slow-motion videos. Jade painted with watercolors. The scene looked like a painting itself.

Liya stayed on the edge, feet dipped into the cold water, skirt fluttering in the wind. Emmett sat beside her, their silence speaking louder than words.

“You ever think about the future?” she asked, staring at the horizon.

He nodded. “All the time. I want to race professionally. See the world. Build something that matters.”

She smiled. “I want to play for people who listen. Maybe open a school for music therapy.”

“You’d be amazing at that.”

She looked at him. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he said, his voice unwavering.

A pause. A longer silence. Then she asked, her voice almost a whisper, “Do you ever feel like… we’re more than just friends?”

The question hung in the air like smoke.

Emmett didn’t answer right away. He looked at her—not just at her face, but the way she fiddled with her bracelet, the way her toes circled in the water, the way her voice wavered even though she tried to sound casual.

“I do,” he finally said. “But I don’t want to rush it. We’re still figuring life out.”

Liya nodded slowly. “Yeah. Me too.”

But in their hearts, something had already shifted.

The lake reflected the colours of a setting sun—golden, unsure, and beautiful.

And maybe that was enough for now.

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