Like Gold

33.

33.

JACE LEFT.

After the argument with his mom, he'd turned quiet. That usual glitter in the gold of his eyes had vanished. Dulled.

And he left.

A part of me felt like I shouldn't have let him leave, but I knew how it felt. Sometimes, you just needed to be alone. Sometimes, all words turned into bad words and you just needed a moment to collect your thoughts.

I started to worry when he wasn't at my door on Monday morning, ready for school.

I waited until my phone said I was at risk of being late and decided, maybe he'd decided to meet me at school today. I rolled my shoulders, drafting a text (Where are you?) before deleting it and sending a simple: Are you okay?

And for the first time in a while, I grabbed my bike and pedalled faster than ever, anxious to read a response or see him at school.

When I parked my bike at the school gates and saw my text hadn't been read, the lump in my stomach sank deeper.

My brain began to spin. Had I made a mistake? Should I not have let him leave?

What if – what if he –

I walked down the school halls, my legs sore from how quickly I'd pedalled from my house, my eyes frantically scanning every face I passed.

He had to be here.

He had to be okay.

People stared at me, frowning as I sprinted past lockers, double taking at any boy with dark hair. They stared and whispered. Probably thinking something like, look, she's finally lost it.

I didn't care. I had to find him. I had to see him – know he was okay. Know I hadn't made a terrible mistake.

But he was nowhere to be seen.

My skin felt cold. I blinked and Amber's face was there, etched behind my eyelids, and I could hear myself whispering to him I can't lose you too, and Jace's voice whispering back, you won't have to.

My breath had died somewhere in my lungs. I should have called. I should have made him stay. I should have forced him to speak to me. I should have – should have –

"Jas."

It was his voice. For a moment, I'd thought I'd imagined it, but then he spoke again.

"Jasmine?"

I turned then, my eyes widening and a sob almost escaping my throat when I saw him. He was okay.

I leapt forward, throwing my arms around him, and pressing my face into the crook of his neck. He staggered back, his arms wrapping around the middle of my waist and squeezing me.

"What's –"

"Where were you?" I interrupted, pulling back just enough to pound a fist against his chest. "I waited all morning for you!"

He frowned, his eyes roaming over my face as he took in my worry. He shook his head, like clearing his vision, and muttered, "My mom took the van."

I frowned back. "What?"

"She took the van. Had to walk to school. I tried to get to your place, let you know, but I have a seriously bad sense of direction." He let out an embarrassed chuckle. "Asked this old lady for directions too. I don't know where she sent me, but it definitely wasn't Oakland Street. Some place called Adult's Playland..."