06.

IT WAS FRIDAY, and Jace was in the pool, attending my afternoon physiotherapy session.

It was strange, mostly because Jace wasn't scheduled for Friday classes. Not until I'd received an email this morning saying he'd enrolled. He was the only person who took two sessions a week.

So, it was strange seeing Jace in the pool on a Friday. It was strange seeing him here two days in a row – shirtless and dripping in water.

But what was most strange was the way his eyes narrowed slightly with each step – the way his frown had turned deeper and deeper as the hour-long session passed.

I blew my whistle before letting it drop against my neck. The sharp tone echoed through the tiled pool room and all eyes snapped up to me.

"Five minutes to go!" I said. "Let's cool down everyone."

As the group went through our usual cool down exercises, I tugged at the bun I'd pulled my hair into, raking the stray hairs that fell on my neck back into the bun. The indoor pool was warm, and the room itself was even warmer. The humidity caused my skin to glow and my hair to stick to my forehead and neck.

I used to have curly hair. Well, I guess I still had curly hair. Technically. But curly hair required long showers, deep conditioning, hair products – none of which were completely compatible with depression. Most days it took all my effort to shower and wash my hair, much less style it.

So, I opted for a daily hairstyle of a messy bun that took approximately twenty seconds in the morning. Even those twenty seconds felt like forever.

"And up!" I shouted, lifting my arms over my head.

Water swished as the class copied me, raising their arms slowly above the water.

"Knees higher," I said, snapping my fingers.

I scanned the group, watching them follow my instruction, until my eyes landed on Jace. His brow creased after a long session of physiotherapy. His steps had become stiffer – more strained. I pursed my lips, feeling my own ankle throb in the humid air that stuck to my skin and bones.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the clock before blowing on my whistle and clapping my hands.

"That's it for today. Great work everyone!" I called out, shooting the group a smile. A collective sigh of relief sounded, and the water splashed as they made their way for the steps leading out of the shallow pool. "Thanks for coming! I'll see you all bright and early next week."

I stood at the edge of the pool for a moment, scribbling times down on the sheet clipped to my board, occasionally glancing up to say goodbye to clients and wish them a good weekend.

By the time I signed off on the sheet, only one person remained – Jace.

I stepped closer, to the edge of the pool watching as he limped over the steps, taking one at a time and wincing each time he put pressure on his leg. He gripped the railing so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"You alright?"

His head snapped to me and his eyes widened, like he just realised I was still there. The pool was empty now, all the others already having entered the changing rooms. I heard the quiet hum of the pool filters and the drip, drip of water falling from his bare shoulders and damp hair.

He shrugged casually, his face falling into a content smile. I knew that forced smile all too well.

"Fine," he said.

"Okay," I said carefully, moving to meet him at the edge of the pool. "Do you need help getting out of the pool? I can borrow some crutches from the first aid –"

"No!" he interrupted. I blinked, the words dying in my throat. He shook his head, releasing a tight breath and lowering his voice. "I mean, no. I don't need crutches."

I glanced to where he still refused to put weight on his right leg. In fact, he kind of wobbled, standing mostly on his left leg.

"Are you sure?" I pushed. "Because it's no hassle. Really."

"I don't need them," he seethed, his eyes remaining on the steps in front of him – like a hurdle impossible to cross.

I frowned. He clearly needed them. His fingers were gripping onto the railing for dear life, and his leg – every movement added a wrinkle to his brow and a grimace to his smile. I stepped closer.

"Jace," I began slowly. "Why did you stop using your crutches if your leg is still bad?"

"Bad?" he echoed, sputtering. "I'm perfectly fine, Jasmine."

"Right," I scoffed.

"I am."

"Jace, you're clearly not –"

"I'm fine, Jasmine," he interrupted. He cut me a sharp glare. My eyes widened and his expression softened. "I don't need crutches."

"Really? Is that why you can't walk up four steps by yourself?" I said, raising a brow. "Is that why you wince every time you step on your left leg? Is that why you're still attending physiotherapy classes?"

He paused, his eyes widening as he took me in. Then, slowly, a smile stretched across his lips.

"I hadn't realised you were paying so much attention to me, Jasmine."

I warmed, the tips of my ears turning hot and uncomfortable. I tore my eyes away, crossing my arms over my chest.

"I wasn't... particularly."

He took another step up, finally pulling himself completely out of the pool and onto the slimy tiles in front of me. He raked a hand through his hair, dripping water all over the floor.

"So, what? We're just not going to talk about it, then?" he asked.

"Talk about what?"

He shrugged a shoulder and cocked his head to the side, watching me curiously with furrowed brows.

"About what happened the other day."

I knew what he was talking about. He meant why did you run away like that? Who's Amber? Are you okay?

I pursed my lips. "What happened the other day?"

His brow lifted. "So, I guess that's a no."

"We're talking about you right now, Jace," I said pointedly. "Why did you stop using your crutches if your leg is still bad?"

"What are you doing this weekend?" he asked suddenly.

I blinked. Then, I folded my arms over my chest and frowned at him. "Why?"

"I want to know," he said nonchalantly, his eyes glimmering as he watched me.

I shot him a sharp look. "Stop trying to change the subject, Jace."

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he repeated. He took a step closer to me, barely wincing when he brought his bad leg up with him. "After work."

"Jace," I started.

"Answer mine and I'll answer yours," he said simply.

I narrowed my eyes at him, and his lips twitched at the corner. He waited, his eyes not moving from mine.

"Tomorrow," I started uncomfortably. "I'm going to sit in bed all day and watch America's Next Top Model."

A laugh burst from his lips and I blushed.

"America's Next Top Model?" he echoed, quirking a brow.

"It's good."

"Is it?"

"As a matter of fact, it is," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. He hummed.

"I'll have to take your word for it," he said. "Never seen it. How many seasons are there?"

His lips twitched in a smirk and I ignored his question.

"Answer mine now," I said curtly, pretending my entire face wasn't burning with embarrassment. Why didn't I just lie or something? I should've said I was hanging out with the dozens of friends I have who definitely existed. Yeah. That would've been believable.

He shrugged. "Fair is fair."

His lips quirked and his honey brown eyes fell to his foot. He flexed his leg, gently putting more pressure onto it as if testing it. A muscle in his jaw jumped, but he forced a neutral expression on his face. He met my eye, shrugging.

"I'm fine," he said again. He shot me a smile – a familiar smile because I'd used the same one a million times.

"You're an idiot, Jace Wilson," I said hotly. "I thought we agreed. I answer your question and you answer mine."

"I did answer."

I shot him a glare. "I know you're not fine."

"Oh, you know do you?"

"Yes!" I said, shaking my head. "You need your crutches, Jace. You'll just make it worse. You're straining the injury."

"How would you know?"

"Because I did the same thing!" I spat finally.

He paused. We both paused. The room was silent except for the echo of drip, drip, drip coming from the pool.

His shoulders sagged, his face falling slightly. I felt hot all over. I hadn't even realised my hands were clenched so tightly until I realised my nails were digging into my palms. A lump had formed in my throat and I swallowed it thickly.

My ankle throbbed painfully – so painfully.

Once I'd gotten out of that hospital bed and started walking again, it was clear my leg wasn't going to work properly for a long time. Every step was agony. My ankle hurt. My shin hurt.

I had a fracture in my left tibia and twisted the ankle, the doctor said. I wouldn't be able to walk on it for at least four months.

Two months later, I'd found my mom crying in the kitchen. She thought I was asleep, but I heard her. I heard her sobbing in my dad's shoulder.

She'll never get better.

She'll never be the same.

The next day, I left for school without my crutches.

A month later, the pain had gotten worse. It became hard to walk without a limp and a wince. Piper eventually told my mom and the doctor said the sprain had worsened and it would take an extra month now.

I remembered the disappointment in my mother's eyes. The smile had turned into a tight-lipped frown. She never scolded me, but I knew she was disappointed. She wanted me to be better. She wanted me to be the old Jasmine.

Even after it had healed and I'd started going to physiotherapy sessions to get rid of the stiffness, the pain had stuck with me. And when I used my left leg too much, or when the weather turned rainy and humid, my ankle and shin throbbed painfully – a permanent reminder amongst others.

"I'm sorry," Jace said finally.

I met his eyes – golden pools of honey, wide and concerned. He frowned, shaking his head.

"I didn't realise," he started.

"Just –" I interrupted, holding up a hand. I sighed, pursing my lips. "You don't want it to get worse. Trust me."

"I'm getting better," he said defensively. His lips pursed and I had the impression that he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince me. "I don't need my crutches anymore. I'm getting better."

"Of course, you are," I said slowly. Behind him, people were beginning to walk out of the changing rooms. I lowered my voice, stepping closer. "Just don't push it, Jace. You'll get there with time."

His eyes flickered to mine for a moment. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his lips parted. He shook his head then, stepping back and wincing when he put pressure on his right leg.

"Time?" he repeated.

"Yes," I said quietly. "You can't rush things like this, Jace. Trust me. Just give it time."

His gaze hardened. He took the final step out of the pool. A ghost of a wince flittered over his face in the form of a tiny narrowing of his eyes. But he tightened his jaw, quickly levelling his expression.

He stepped closer to me, shaking his head.

"I don't have time," he said sharply.

And with that, he turned and left.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Happy New Year! I hope you all started 2021 off in a fun, safe way! Let's hope this year is a lot better than 2020 lol

Soooo a cute chapter between Jace and Jasmine. Let me know what you think! Any predictions? Some of y'all are surprisingly close 👀 Next time: Jasmine faces her fears.

Thank you as always for reading, commenting and voting! See you next time!