Chapter 4: Collision Course
The silence after Ace’s words hung thick and suffocating, vibrating between them under the buzzing stadium lights. CC’s mouth opened, then closed, a soft gasp escaping instead of words. Her cheeks flamed crimson, clashing violently with her pale pink cardigan. Her gaze darted away from Ace’s intense stare, landing anywhere else – the scuffed turf, the gleaming goalpost, her own trembling hands gripping the cold metal bleacher.
“Ace, I…” Her voice was a fragile thread, barely audible over the ringing in Ace’s own ears. She looked terrified. Trapped.
Before CC could shatter or speak, a sharp, insistent buzzing shattered the charged air. Then another. Both their phones, vibrating simultaneously in their pockets. The jarring normalcy of it was almost obscene.
Ace didn’t move, her eyes still locked on CC, demanding an answer. CC flinched, scrambling backwards up the bleacher step as if physically pushed by the sound. Her movements were jerky, panicked. She fumbled her phone out, her thumb swiping frantically.
“It’s Lee,” she breathed, voice shaky. Relief warred with something else – guilt? – in her wide green eyes. “He… he says to come out. Now. To my dorm.”
Ace finally tore her gaze away, pulling her own phone out with stiff fingers. Lee’s text glared up at her: URGENT. Both of u. CC’s dorm. NOW. Pizza crisis (emotional variety). Don’t make me eat this whole pepperoni alone.
The absurdity of it, after what had just happened, was a physical blow. Ace shoved the phone back in her pocket, the movement sharp, angry. She looked back at CC, who was already half-standing, poised to flee.
“Fine,” Ace growled, the word scraping her throat raw. “Let’s go deal with Lee’s pepperoni crisis.”
The walk back to the dorms was silent, thick with everything unsaid. Ace strode ahead, her cleats clicking harshly on the pavement, shoulders rigid. She could feel CC trailing a few steps behind, a hesitant, nervous presence. The scent of cut grass faded, replaced by the familiar stale tang of dorm life – old pizza boxes, cheap detergent, damp concrete. The usual evening sounds – muffled music, laughter from behind closed doors, the distant wail of a siren – felt distant, irrelevant.
They turned the corner onto CC’s dimly lit hallway. A single flickering fluorescent strip buzzed overhead, casting long, distorted shadows on walls plastered with peeling posters advertising bands and forgotten club meetings. CC’s door, near the end, stood slightly ajar, a warm wedge of lamplight spilling onto the worn linoleum floor.
Ace reached it first, her hand hovering near the doorframe. She could hear Lee’s voice inside, animated, probably gesturing wildly. Before she could push it open wider, heavy footsteps pounded down the hall behind them. Fast, eager.
Both girls turned.
Ben.
He skidded to a halt a few feet away, breathing a little hard, a bright, slightly messy bouquet of grocery-store carnations clutched in one hand. His smile was wide, earnest, utterly oblivious. He’d clearly run here. His eyes swept past Ace instantly, fixing on CC with puppy-dog intensity.
“CC! Hey! I was hoping to catch you!” Ben’s voice was too loud in the narrow hallway. He thrust the flowers towards her, the cellophane crinkling. “I, uh, just wanted to say thanks again for helping me with that Lit paper outline? You totally saved my ass. And, well…” He shuffled his feet, his grin turning bashful. “Maybe see if you wanted to grab coffee sometime? Like… not study coffee? Real coffee?”
Ace froze. Every muscle locked solid. The air whooshed out of her lungs. She felt CC stiffen beside her, a tiny, sharp intake of breath the only sound she made. Ace could practically feel the panic radiating off her, a physical heat. The image of CC stammering about Ben’s smile in the Bio lecture slammed back into her, merging with the sting of the soccer field rejection and the raw vulnerability of moments ago.
Still thinking about Ben?
The question echoed like a taunt in Ace’s skull. Here was the answer, delivered unwrapped in cheap cellophane.
“Ben! Hi!” CC’s voice was an octave too high, brittle with forced cheer. Her laugh sounded like breaking glass. She took a tiny, almost imperceptible step further away from Ace. “Oh, wow! Flowers? You shouldn’t have!” She reached out, fingers trembling slightly as she took the bouquet, holding it awkwardly in front of her like a shield. Her eyes darted to Ace, then skittered away, wide with pleading panic. “That outline was nothing, really. Happy to help!”
Lee’s head popped around the half-open door, his expression shifting from curiosity to wide-eyed alarm as he took in the scene: Ace, rigid and radiating fury like a dark storm cloud, sweat still glistening on her temple; CC, clutching the ridiculous flowers, looking like a deer trapped in high beams; Ben, beaming obliviously between them.
“Uh… hey guys?” Lee ventured cautiously, his dramatic flair momentarily muted. “Pizza’s getting cold?”
“Coffee sounds great, Ben!” CC chirped, the words tumbling out too fast. She kept her gaze fixed firmly on Ben, a desperate smile plastered on her face. “Yeah! Maybe Tuesday? After my design class? Text me?”
Ace felt something inside her snap. The careful control she’d maintained since the soccer field shattered. The jealousy, the hurt, the sheer fucking humiliation of watching CC pretend nothing had happened – that they hadn’t happened – right in front of her, right in front of Ben… It was too much. Her jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached.
Ben’s smile widened, blindingly oblivious. “Awesome! Tuesday! I’ll text you details! See you then, CC!” He gave a little wave, his eyes lingering on her flushed face, completely ignoring Ace and Lee. “Later, guys!” He turned and jogged back down the hall, whistling.
The moment Ben turned the corner, the brittle facade on CC’s face crumpled. She sagged against the doorframe, the flowers hanging limp at her side. Her eyes, wide and scared, finally met Ace’s.
Ace didn’t give her the chance to speak. The raw pain on CC’s face, the tears welling in those green eyes – it should have softened Ace. Instead, it fueled the fire. It felt like manipulation. Like weakness. Like CC hiding behind tears because she didn’t have the guts to face… whatever this was.
“Real coffee, huh?” Ace’s voice was low, flat, devoid of the earlier heat. It was cold. Dead. It carried the exhaustion of the sprint, the sting of rejection, the acid burn of watching that. “Guess you weren’t thinking about Ben. You were busy making plans.”
She took a single step towards CC, not aggressively, but deliberately invading the space Ben had just occupied. Her height seemed to loom suddenly in the cramped hallway. CC flinched backwards, pressing against her own door.
“Ace… please…” CC whispered, a tear escaping and tracing a path down her cheek. “I didn’t know he’d show up… I panicked…”
“Panicked,” Ace repeated, the word tasting like ash. She saw Lee hovering in the doorway, his face etched with concern, but she ignored him. Her gaze never left CC. “Right. Because the thought of this,” she gestured vaguely, harshly, between them, “is so terrifying you’d rather hide behind some dude with discount flowers.” The bitterness was corrosive.
She took another step back, putting distance between them, her cleats scraping harshly on the linoleum. The urge to shove past Lee, to just leave, was overwhelming. But the sight of CC’s tear-streaked face, the sheer, pathetic slump of her shoulders, held her for a second longer. Not with compassion. With a final, crushing wave of disappointment.
“Enjoy your pizza crisis,” Ace bit out, her voice rough. She turned her back on CC, on Lee, on the flowers, on the whole suffocating mess. She strode down the dim hallway, not towards her own dorm, but towards the exit, towards the cold night air, the echoes of Ben’s whistle and CC’s panicked “Coffee sounds great!” chasing her like ghosts. She didn't look back. She couldn't. Every step felt like walking away from a car crash she’d somehow caused, leaving the wreckage behind. The only sound was the fading click of her cleats on the linoleum and the ragged pull of her own breath in the stale, silent hallway.