The weeks passed like whispered secrets.
Every Sunday at noon, Athena Jacobs and Mason Black met at the little coffee shop tucked away from the world that divided them. And every time, they stripped away just a little more of the personas their schools expected them to wear.
He wasn't Mason Black, Ridgeway's golden quarterback to her anymore.
And she wasn't just Athena Jacobs, Lincoln's untouchable cheer captain to him.
They were just them. And it was addicting.
But secrets always have sharp edges—and theirs were beginning to cut.
---
"Athena!" Brooke waved her over after practice one day, her ponytail swinging. "We're all going to Slice's tonight. Pizza and gossip. You in?"
Athena hesitated. Her Sundays with Mason had turned into something sacred. But now, the squad was watching. Expecting.
"Can't tonight," she said, forcing a casual shrug. "Family dinner."
Brooke narrowed her eyes. "That's what you said last week. And the week before."
Athena kept her face neutral. "We have a lot of family dinners."
She turned away before Brooke could ask more questions, but her pulse thundered. She was slipping. Covering the same lie too many times. She knew Brooke—and the squad—well enough to know when suspicion was starting to bubble.
Worse, she didn't just feel the tension at Lincoln.
She saw it… at Ridgeway too.
---
"What's with you, man?" Jackson, Mason's teammate, asked in the locker room after their Thursday scrimmage. "You've been smiling like an idiot for three weeks straight."
Mason smirked. "Maybe I'm just happy."
"Happy doesn't explain the disappearing act on Sundays. Or how you stopped flirting with half the senior class."
"Maybe I grew up."
Jackson raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe you're hiding something."
Mason didn't reply. Just shoved his cleats into his duffel bag and zipped it closed a little too forcefully.
---
That Sunday, the rain came down in silver sheets. Mason was already waiting at their table, spinning a sugar packet between his fingers. His eyes lit up when she entered, soaked but smiling, hoodie dripping at the edges.
"Still think meeting in secret is worth it?" she teased, sliding into the booth across from him.
"I'd meet you in a hurricane," he said. "You know that."
The warmth that bloomed in her chest should've scared her more than it did.
They talked about everything and nothing. Her recent English project, his college scout visit, the small stuff that felt safe. But toward the end, the rain still hammering the windows, she fell quiet.
"You okay?" he asked, leaning forward.
Athena nodded—then hesitated. "They're starting to notice."
"Your squad?"
She nodded. "Especially Brooke. I think she's keeping tabs now. Watching me."
He sighed. "Same on my end. Jackson's not dumb."
Silence stretched between them again, heavier this time.
"So what do we do?" Mason asked. "Stop?"
Athena looked down at her cup. "I don't want to."
"Me neither."
Her eyes lifted to his, determined but scared. "Then we need to be careful. Really careful."
Mason reached across the table, fingers brushing hers under the shadow of the table. "Whatever it takes. I'm not letting this go."
"Neither am I."
But even as the words left her mouth, Athena's mind spun. Because deep down, she knew the truth—
No matter how careful they were, secrets had a way of surfacing.
And someone was going to find out.