**POV: Rafael "Rafe" Vega**

I should've let it go.

That's the logical answer.

A girl at a party. A bad night. A collision outside somebody else's mess. Nothing that should still be in my head the next morning.

And yet-there she is. Still there.

Not in some dramatic way. Not like I woke up obsessed.

Just... present.

Like my brain filed her under something important before I had a say in it.

I'm halfway through my first class when I realize I haven't heard a word the teacher said in twenty minutes.

That's annoying. I don't do distracted. Not when it matters. Not when there's practice later, game film to review, and a week coming that actually counts.

But every time I try to focus, I get hit with the same image. Her outside that house.

Arms folded tight. Face steady even when her eyes gave her away. I'll  survive.

Yeah. She would. That was obvious. The question was what surviving cost her.

"Vega."

I look up. Coach Reynolds stands in the doorway, one hand hooked in the strap of his whistle. "You listening?"

"Yes."

He raises a brow.

I add, "Mostly."

A few guys laugh. Coach points at me. "Then do it fully. I'm not explaining anything twice this afternoon." He moves on.

I lean back in my chair and force my attention forward. It lasts maybe three minutes.

At lunch, Nico drops into the seat across from me like he owns it. Elena sits next to him, already stealing fries off his tray.

He lets her. Of course he does.

"You look worse than usual," Nico says. I glance at him. 

"You always start conversations like that?" 

"When I care, yeah." 

Elena rolls her eyes. “That's not caring. That's just your personality being broken.”

"Same thing."

She turns to me. "Ignore him."

"Trying." 

Nico points a fry at me. "Still thinking about the girl." I don’t answer. Elena watches me for a second longer than she should. Then- 

"Oh wow. He really is." I lean back. 

"Can both of you be quiet for one minute?" 

"No." Nico says immediately. "You followed her outside." 

“I walked outside." 

"You followed her," Elena corrects. "Subtle difference." 

I exhale slowly. Because arguing with them is pointless. Because they’re not wrong.

"She looked like she needed air,'' I say finally.

Nico leans back, satisfied. "There it is."

"That's all you're getting."

Elena tilts her head. "What happened after?"

"She ran into me."

That gets them quiet. Briefly.

Then Nico grins. "Physically?" I stare at him. He grins wider. "Had to ask." 

“She wasn't okay," I say. That kills the joke fast. Elena's expression shifts. 

"How bad?" I think about it. About the way she held herself together like it was instinct.

"Bad enough."

Nico nods slowly. "Reed?"

I don't answer. Don't need to.

He scoffs. "Yeah…that tracks."

Elena leans forward slightly. "You know who she is, right?"

"I know her name.”

"Valeria Cruz," she says. "Same school as Reed. Camila too." That lands.

More than I want it to.

"People talk,” Elena adds. "Not loudly. But enough."

I don't ask. I don't want rumors. I want facts. But even without details-I already know enough. No one at that party looked surprised. That's what sticks. Not just the betrayal. The audience. The fact that she was the only one catching up.

"She’ll be fine," Nico says, then winces. "Okay, that sounded worse out loud."

"It sounded stupid,'' Elena says.

"What I mean is-" Nico looks at me now. "She didn't look like the kind of girl who folds."

That part's true.

"She's not."

The words come out before I think about them. Elena notices. Of course she does.

"Oh," she says quietly.

Nico leans forward. "You're cooked."

I shove his shoulder back. "Relax."

"No,"' he says, laughing. "I don't think I will."

Practice helps. At least physically. I throw harder than I need to. Run faster. Push everything out through movement instead of letting it sit. That's what works. That's what always works. Football is simple. You either move or you get hit. No overthinking. No distractions. 

By the time practice ends, I'm closer to normal. Not fully. But enough. I grab my bag and head toward the parking lot, sweat cooling against my skin.

Nico falls into step beside me. "You gonna see her again?"

I glance at him. "Why would I?"

He shrugs. "Because you want to."

"That's not a reason."

"It is if you're honest."

I zip my bag closed. "You ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"Not once.”

That tracks.

He glances at me again. "You know Reed saw, right?"

I stop.

"What?"

"From inside the house," Nico says. “When she ran into you. I saw him at the door."

I already knew. Or felt it. But hearing it-solidifies it. Makes it real.

"Good," I say.

Nico blinks. “Good?"

I look at him. "Yeah."

He studies me for a second. "That usually means you're about to be a problem."

"Only if someone asks for it."

He laughs. "There he is."

I get to my truck. Finally alone. Finally quiet. And that's when it hits again. Her.

Not the party. Not the drama. Her. The way she didn't break. The way she walked away. The way she said *I'll survive* like it wasn't a question. I pull my phone out. Her contact is still there. Valeria. I stare at it for a second. Then type. 

***You make it through the day or did school make it worse?*** 

I hit send before I can rethink it. Lean back against the truck. Because this-this is intentional. My phone buzzes.

***Depends. Is ignoring people considered surviving?***

A small smirk pulls at my mouth. Yeah. That tracks.

***It counts. Sometimes it's the only way to get through it. ***

Pause.

***You always give advice like that?***

I think about it.

***Only when it's needed.***

Three dots. Gone. Back again. She's thinking Finally-

***Then I guess I needed it.***

That lands. Quiet. But real. I push off the truck slightly. Because now-this isn't just checking in. This is something else.

***You did more than survive last night.***

Send. Longer pause.

***You saw that?***

Yeah. I did.

***Enough.***

Pause.

***Most people didn't.***

My jaw tightens. Because I know.

***That's their problem. Not yours.***

Silence. Then-

***You say things like you're sure.*** 

I look out across the lot. Then type

***I am.***

This time-she takes longer. Then-

***Okay. ***

Just that. But it’s not nothing. It's open.

And that's enough. For now.

I lock my phone. Toss it onto the passenger seat. Because I know where this goes if I push it. And I'm not pushing. 
Not yet. But one thing is clear. She didn't break. She walked away.
And that? That's not something I'm going to ignore.