Chapter 1

The high school weight room at 6:00 PM smelled like a mix of industrial floor cleaner and the ghosts of a thousand gym periods. Leo liked it best this way—dim, quiet, and devoid of the judgmental eyes of the varsity football team. He’d reached the heavy steel exit doors when he realized his gallon jug of water was still sitting by the squat rack.

He doubled back, his sneakers squeaking on the rubber matting. That’s when he saw her.

Chloe, the girl who took AP Physics and Varsity Track like they were blood sports, was currently losing a fight with a bench press bar. She wasn’t screaming. That would require oxygen, and the 165-pound steel rod currently resting across her sternum was making oxygen a luxury. Her knuckles were white, her eyes bulging as she stared at the ceiling with the intensity of a dying sun.

Leo dropped his water jug. He didn't run—he was too big for "running" to look anything but alarming—but he covered the distance in four long strides.

"You look like you’re having a moment," Leo said, his voice a low, dry rumble.

Chloe’s eyes flicked to him, filled with a terrifying mixture of relief and pure, unadulterated rage. "I’m... fine," she wheezed. The bar didn't move an inch.

"Right. Is 'fine' the new term for 'slowly being crushed into a human panini'?" Leo leaned over the head of the bench, looking down at her upside down. He didn't grab the bar immediately. He knew Chloe. If he just ripped it off her, she’d hate him until graduation for witnessing her failure. "Your grip is too wide. You’re losing all your leverage in the lats."

"Physics... teacher... said... wide grip... targets... chest," she managed to squeeze out. Her chest gave a small, ominous shudder.

Leo sighed, adjusting his stance. "Your physics teacher doesn't have two plates of iron trying to collapse his ribcage. You’re trying to impress the scout from State on Friday, aren't you?"

Chloe didn't answer. She couldn't. A small bead of sweat rolled from her temple into her ear.

"Look," Leo said, his voice softening just a fraction, losing its teasing edge. "I can take the whole thing. Or, I can give you a two-finger spot. I help just enough so you do the work, and we pretend this was just a really intense set. Deal?"

Chloe closed her eyes for a second, a silent concession.

Leo reached down. He didn't wrap his fists around the cold steel. Instead, he placed just the tips of his index and middle fingers under the center of the bar. It was a gesture of immense restraint—the strongest kid in school offering the smallest amount of help possible to preserve the dignity of the girl who refused to ask for it.

"On three," Leo commanded. "One. Two. Drive."

Chloe let out a sound that was half-growl, half-sob. With Leo’s steadying fingers ensuring the bar didn't tilt or dip, she found the path upward. The weight rose, agonizingly slow, shaking the entire way, until the metal finally clicked into the safety hooks.

The silence that followed was heavy. Chloe stayed flat on the bench for a long minute, her chest heaving as she finally pulled in deep, jagged lungfuls of air. Leo stood back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his oversized hoodie, feeling the familiar itch of social anxiety returning now that the crisis had passed.

"That was," Chloe started, her voice raspy. She sat up, rubbing her sternum. Her hair was a disaster, and her face was still flushed, but the fire was back in her eyes. "That was a terrible spot, Leo. You barely touched it."

Leo felt a corner of his mouth twitch. "I’ll try to be more overbearing next time. Have a good night, Chloe."

He turned and started walking toward his water jug. He was halfway across the gym, his heart hammering against his ribs for reasons that had nothing to do with powerlifting.

"Leo!" she called out.

He stopped, his hand on the heavy metal handle of the exit door. He didn't turn around yet. He waited, the hum of the vending machine in the hallway filling the gap between them. He felt the weight of the moment, the shift in the air that suggested things might be different tomorrow in the hallways.

"Yeah?" he asked.

The silence stretched, thick with things she was too proud to say and things he was too shy to ask. Leo waited for her to finish the thought, his fingers tightening on the cold door handle.