𝟬𝟬𝟱, the right path

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im so sorry for all the notifications but please stop being a ghost reader!!!! us writers work hard on these chapters. i know i ask this a lot, but i really don't like ghost readers because i work super hard on these chapters so when i see views going up bt votes not its hard for my motivation!

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The cafeteria was its usual chaotic mess-loud chatter, clanking trays, the occasional burst of laughter-but all of that noise seemed to fade as Imogen and Sam made their way toward their usual lunch table. The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to make Imogen's stomach twist uncomfortably.

At the center of the commotion, Demetri stood with his face flushed red, hands clenched at his sides as he argued heatedly with Hawk. A crowd had already started to form around them, some curious, some clearly entertained, but Imogen's attention zeroed in on the mess scattered across the table. Pieces of Demetri's meticulously crafted science project-once a carefully assembled model with wires and circuits-were now reduced to nothing but a crushed, tangled disaster of broken plastic and shattered pride.

Imogen's chest tightened.

Her fists curled at her sides, knuckles going white, and without a second thought, her lunch tray slipped from her hands, the plate clattering loudly against the floor. Across from her, Sam did the exact same thing, both of their meals abandoned in sync as their focus turned solely on the confrontation ahead.

"Imo, please-" Moon's soft voice broke through the noise, sounding almost desperate as she stepped forward and gently grabbed Imogen's wrist. "Please, stay out of this. No violence."

But Imogen's jaw was already set. Her pulse pounded hard in her ears, drowning out Moon's plea. Without a word, she wrenched her wrist free and strode forward, Sam right beside her, both girls moving with purpose.

"Better back off," Sam's voice rang out clearly, sharp and steady as she positioned herself at Demetri's side like a shield. "Or you won't be so lucky."

Imogen mirrored Sam's stance, standing on Demetri's other side, her arms crossing tightly over her chest as her glare locked onto Hawk's. "Yeah," Imogen added, voice low and dangerous, her eyes narrowing. "I could beat your ass real easy. So, how about you stop acting like a jackass and apologize before I make you?"

Hawk, of course, wasn't the type to back down easily. He tilted his head, smirking as though the whole thing was some big joke. "Oh, really? What are you gonna do, princess? Actually-" His smirk widened, eyes narrowing as he shifted his weight, clearly gearing up to make it personal. "Why don't you go break another teacher's car, huh? Since you're so good at vandalizing property when things don't go your way."

The words hit Imogen like a slap.

Her face darkened, anger coiling in her chest like a spring wound too tight. The jab was a low blow, dredging up something she'd already paid the price for. But Hawk's smug expression, the way his friends snickered behind him, the way Demetri stood there trying to hold himself together despite his destroyed project-

She snapped.

Without thinking, Imogen lunged forward and shoved Hawk back, hard. He staggered, caught by the arms of one of his friends before he could fully lose his balance. Gasps rippled through the cafeteria. A few students even cheered, but Imogen barely registered the noise.

Her heart pounded.

"What's going on here, Miss Lee?"

Counselor Blatt's voice sliced through the tension like a blade, sharp and authoritative as she appeared from the crowd, heels clicking against the tile floor. Her disapproving gaze swept the scene, lingering on Hawk, then Imogen, who still had her fists balled tightly at her sides.

"You know the school's new guidelines against physical contact." Blatt's voice was calm, but there was that condescending edge to it-the same tone she always used when trying to make herself seem in charge.

Imogen let out a bitter, humorless laugh and spun around to face her. "Seriously? This-this isn't even about that, he's just being a-"

"Language, Miss Lee!" Blatt snapped, cutting her off, her expression hardening.

Imogen's lips pressed into a thin line, seething, but she bit her tongue.

Blatt's gaze shifted back to Hawk, expression softening just slightly. "Eli, did she enter your personal bubble without your verbal consent?"

Imogen blinked. "Wait-what?"

Hawk, the audacity practically radiating off of him, nodded solemnly, eyes wide as he forced a mock-wounded expression onto his face. "Yeah. She definitely triggered me in my safe space. I'm feeling...violated, honestly."

Sam's mouth fell open. Demetri's jaw practically hit the floor.

"You've got to be kidding me," Sam muttered, shaking her head.

"Are you serious right now?" Imogen hissed, her glare shifting between Hawk and Blatt as she took a half-step forward. "He literally-look-" She gestured toward the shattered project on the table. "He started it! He destroyed Demetri's science project!"

Blatt, arms crossed, turned to Hawk, who, with a perfectly straight face, replied, "It was an accident."

Imogen scoffed so loudly it echoed. "Oh, come on! You're seriously gonna let him get away with this?"

Blatt didn't even blink.

"I don't tolerate violence in this school, Miss Lee. You've been warned. If you can't control your temper, perhaps you need another detention to reflect on your choices."

Imogen stared, breath caught in her throat, hands trembling from the sheer frustration boiling under her skin. She could feel Moon's gaze from across the room, a silent plea for her to let it go-but the injustice was unbearable. Hawk just stood there with that stupid smirk while Demetri's project lay in ruins.

Her fists clenched, but she forced herself to take a shaky breath, teeth gritting.

"Y'know what? I can't."

Throwing her hands up, Imogen turned on her heel and stormed off, the heat of her rage trailing behind her like wildfire.

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The school day had finally ended, but the tension in Imogen's chest hadn't eased since lunch.

She sat alone on the worn concrete steps outside West Valley High, the autumn breeze nipping at her cheeks. The sky had taken on that pale, late-afternoon hue, the sun dipping lower, casting long shadows across the nearly empty parking lot. Most of the students had already left, their voices distant echoes. Only the occasional scrape of shoes on pavement or the slam of a locker broke the quiet.

Imogen hugged her arms around her knees, resting her chin on them, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her. Her grandma was late-again. Probably stuck at the bakery picking up orders. The cold from the stone steps seeped through her jeans, making her shiver, but she barely noticed. Her mind kept replaying the disaster from earlier. The broken project. Hawk's smug face. Blatt taking his side like some kind of brainwashed robot.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, vibrating against her leg.

She fished it out, squinting at the message lighting up the screen from Sam.

"Have Saturday detention for 3 weeks because of Hawk!!! Tried to pay Cobra Kai back for lunch in PE... didn't end well!"

Imogen stared at the message for a moment, processing.

And then the anger hit.

Three weeks? Three weeks because Sam had finally snapped after everything Hawk had done today? The destroyed project, the taunting, the way he'd played the victim right in front of Blatt while they got punished? And now Sam-Sam-was paying for standing up for herself?

Her fists clenched.

"Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath.

A car door slammed somewhere across the lot, drawing her attention.

And there he was.

Hawk.

Eli. Whatever the hell he wanted to be called these days.

He was alone now, heading toward his beat-up red Firebird with that same self-satisfied swagger, keys dangling from his fingers. No posse. No Cobra Kai backup. Just him. And that stupid smirk.

Before she even knew what she was doing, Imogen was already on her feet.

Her pulse thrummed loud in her ears as she crossed the lot, boots scuffing against the pavement.

"Hawk!"

He stopped, halfway through unlocking his car. Turning, he blinked as if caught off guard, then raised an eyebrow when he saw her storming toward him, fists tight at her sides.

"Oh, look who it is. Princess Temper Tantrum," he drawled, leaning against the hood like he owned the whole damn parking lot. "Come to invade my personal bubble again, or you just here to cry about how unfair life is?"

Imogen ignored the jab, stopping just a few feet away. Her face felt hot despite the cold air.

"You got Sam three weeks of Saturday detention because you couldn't handle her calling you out? Seriously? Three weeks, Eli?"

His smirk faltered-just for a second-but then it was back, sharper, crueler.

"Not my fault she can't control her temper. Maybe next time, she'll learn how to fight without throwing a tantrum," he shot back.

Imogen's lips parted in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? You destroyed Demetri's project! You were humiliating him! And somehow you get to walk away while Sam and I get punished for standing up to you? How is that fair?"

Hawk's expression darkened. His hands clenched around his keys.

"Life's not fair, Lee. Welcome to reality. You think crying to Blatt about it's gonna change anything? No. You're either strong enough to handle it, or you're weak."

Imogen took a step closer, her glare sharp enough to cut.

"Yeah? And you think you're the strong one, huh? Hiding behind your stupid gang, breaking people's stuff, bullying your own best friend? You used to be someone decent, Eli. What the hell happened to you?"

His jaw tightened. She saw it then-just a flicker of something behind his eyes, a crack in the armor. But it was gone as fast as it appeared.

"You wouldn't get it," he muttered, voice lower now.

Imogen shook her head. "Try me. Seriously. Because all I'm seeing is someone so scared of being weak, he's turned into the same kind of bully he used to hate. Is that who you wanna be now? Some coward who picks on his friends because it makes him feel powerful?"

"Shut up!"

His voice echoed across the lot, sharp and sudden, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the distant hum of a passing car and the wind whistling through the trees.

Then, quieter-barely above a whisper-he added, "You don't know anything about me, Imogen. So stop pretending like you do."

Her heart hammered, but she refused to back down.

"I know you're not as tough as you pretend to be. And deep down, you know it too."

They stood there in silence, the tension hanging heavy between them.

Finally, Hawk scoffed, pushing himself off the hood of his car.

"Whatever. You're not worth my time."

He turned, yanking the car door open, but Imogen wasn't done.

"Yeah? Well, I used to think you were worth mine."

The words hit like a slap, making Hawk pause with his hand on the door handle.

Imogen shook her head, voice softer now but still sharp around the edges.

"But you made your choice, huh? Guess you can keep being a Cobra Kai asshole. Just don't expect people to be scared forever."

She turned on her heel, walking back toward the steps without waiting for a response, her heart pounding harder than before.

And behind her, Hawk just stood there, jaw tight, staring at the ground like he couldn't quite shake what she'd said.

The sound of an old engine rumbling closer broke the tense silence still lingering between Imogen and Hawk.

A familiar light blue Cadillac, just slightly worn from years of love and careful driving, pulled into the parking lot, the brakes squeaking gently as it came to a stop right near the steps where Imogen had been sitting earlier.

Imogen didn't even glance back toward Hawk. Jaw tight, she stomped toward the passenger side, wrenching the door open harder than necessary before sinking into the worn leather seat with a huff.

Her grandma, Mrs. Lee, sat behind the wheel, her silver-streaked hair in its usual neat curls, wearing a lavender cardigan buttoned all the way up despite the chill outside. She blinked in mild surprise at Imogen's stormy expression as her hands rested gently on the steering wheel.

"Rough day, sweetheart?" she asked gently, squinting out at the emptying school lot.

"You could say that," Imogen muttered, slumping further into the seat as she buckled her seatbelt, arms crossed tight over her chest.

Mrs. Lee gave a soft "hmm" of concern, but before she could press further, her eyes caught movement just across the lot.

Hawk, still standing stiffly next to his car, clearly caught off guard by their attention, shifted his weight uncomfortably when he realized Mrs. Lee was watching him.

Her face brightened with recognition almost instantly.

"Wait a minute..." she murmured, leaning forward slightly for a better look. "Is that... Eli? Eli Moskowitz?"

Imogen groaned, sinking lower in her seat. "Grandma, please-"

But it was too late. Mrs. Lee was already rolling down the window, beaming as she waved enthusiastically at Hawk.

"Eli! Eli, dear! Over here!"

Hawk blinked, visibly confused for a moment, before forcing a tight, hesitant smile. He glanced at Imogen, who was practically hiding behind her hands, then slowly made his way over to the car. His usual cocky swagger was noticeably toned down, replaced with something more cautious.

"Uh... hey, Mrs. Lee," Hawk said, shoving his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his tone unusually polite.

Mrs. Lee's smile widened. "Goodness gracious, you've grown so much since the last time I saw you! What's it been-two summers ago? Remember when you and Imogen used to spend all that time in the backyard? You were so shy back then! Not like this whole..." She gestured vaguely at his mohawk, "...new look. My goodness, what a transformation!"

Hawk let out a strained chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, people change, I guess."

Imogen muttered under her breath, "Yeah. No kidding."

Hawk shot her a quick glare, but before either of them could say anything else, Mrs. Lee continued, her smile warm but sharp.

"Now, I heard from Imogen you're quite the athlete these days. Karate, wasn't it? I hope you're staying out of trouble with all that strength, young man."

Hawk blinked, clearly scrambling to keep up with the sudden shift in conversation.

"Uh... yeah. Of course. All about, you know... discipline... and respect," he said with a forced grin, the words sounding awkward and rehearsed.

Imogen's eyes narrowed. She knew he was full of it.

"That's so wonderful to hear!" Mrs. Lee nodded approvingly. "I always knew you had a good heart, Eli. Such a sweet boy back then-and still polite now, aren't you? I'm so glad you and Imogen are reconnecting."

Imogen choked. "Grandma!"

Hawk, catching onto the opportunity, leaned slightly closer to the open window, his fake smile widening. "Yeah, Mrs. Lee. It's been, uh... great catching up."

"See? Isn't that nice?" Mrs. Lee practically beamed, clearly oblivious to the tension radiating between the two teenagers.

Imogen shot Hawk a withering glare. He shot back the most obnoxiously fake grin, mouthing "Sweet boy" at her mockingly when Mrs. Lee wasn't looking.

Before Imogen could explode, Mrs. Lee added, "You know, Eli, we're making pot roast tonight-plenty to go around. You should join us for dinner! I know how much you used to love my cooking."

Imogen felt her stomach drop. "What?"

Hawk blinked, clearly just as surprised.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to intrude-"

"Nonsense! We'd love to have you over. Right, Imogen?" Mrs. Lee turned to her granddaughter with a pointed smile.

Imogen forced a strained smile that looked more like a grimace. "Thrilled."

Hawk bit back a smirk, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable she was.

"Well, I guess I could swing by," he said, feigning modesty. "Wouldn't want to miss Mrs. Lee's famous pot roast, right?"

Imogen shot him a murderous glare.

Mrs. Lee clapped her hands together. "Wonderful! Six o'clock sharp, Eli. And be sure to bring that appetite of yours!"

Hawk gave a mock-salute. "Wouldn't miss it. See ya later, Mrs. Lee. Princess," he added under his breath, smirking as he backed away toward his car.

Imogen groaned, sinking down in her seat as Mrs. Lee started the car.

"Grandma," she hissed once Hawk was out of earshot. "Seriously? Why would you invite him? He's not who you think he is! He's a total jerk!"

Mrs. Lee just gave her a knowing look.

"Honey, sometimes boys act out when they're trying to impress someone. Maybe a nice home-cooked meal will help him remember who he really is."

Imogen buried her face in her hands as they drove off.

This was going to be a disaster.

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The rotary phone's cord twisted tightly around Imogen's fingers, knotted almost as much as the tension coiling in her stomach. The soft hum of static crackled faintly in her ear as she paced the length of her bedroom, heart drumming an anxious rhythm against her ribs. Outside, the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, the purple-blue twilight casting shadows across her posters and the cluttered shelves lining her walls. The pale yellow glow of her bedside lamp flickered, barely illuminating the worn hardwood beneath her feet.

Moon's voice crackled from the receiver, soft but tinged with a familiar edge of frustration.

"So let me get this straight-Eli's coming over? Alone? Like, just you two at dinner with your grandma?"

Imogen groaned, scrunching her face as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's not like that, Moon! Trust me, I was blindsided. I had no clue he was even gonna be here until Grandma Lee basically cornered me after school and told me she invited him."

A beat of silence followed, then Moon's voice dropped, quieter this time but with an unmistakable ache beneath it.

"Tonight was supposed to be our night, Imo. You said you were ready. You were gonna tell her about us. About you being...you know..."

"Bisexual?" Imogen finished the sentence for her, swallowing hard as guilt settled like a stone in her chest. She flopped onto the edge of her bed, one hand still tangled in the coiled phone cord as she stared blankly at the ceiling, words fumbling in her throat.

"I am ready. I was-" She hesitated, gnawing at her lip. "Am ready. I just... didn't get the chance. She brought him up out of nowhere, started talking about how he used to be such a nice boy, and now suddenly she's convinced he's coming over for some 'catching up' dinner? Like, what was I supposed to do-argue with my seventy-five-year-old grandmother over the phone about my love life? While she's waving a casserole dish around?"

Moon exhaled a sharp breath. "Yeah, well, it sounds like she still thinks you're hung up on him. And honestly? You're kinda letting her think that."

Imogen blinked. "That's so not fair."

"It kinda is," Moon countered gently. "I'm your girlfriend, Imo. I should be the one she's setting a place for tonight. Not some ex-middle school crush with anger issues and a bad haircut."

Imogen winced, the words twisting painfully, not because Moon was wrong but because she was completely right. The whole situation felt tangled, overwhelming-like she was being pulled in two directions she couldn't control.

"I'll tell her," she whispered, voice tight. "I will. I promise. I just-"

The doorbell echoed through the house downstairs, loud and sharp, jolting her heart into her throat.

"Crap-he's here." She scrambled upright, the phone cord nearly yanking the receiver out of her hand as she stood.

Moon's voice softened but stayed firm. "Good luck. Call me after?"

"I will." Imogen hung up with a decisive click, standing frozen for a heartbeat as the reality settled in.

Eli Moskowitz was on the other side of her front door.

The same Eli who'd shattered Demetri's science project earlier that day.

The same Eli who used to be her friend before he'd transformed into Hawk-all sharp smirks and swagger and unnecessary aggression.

Bracing herself, she marched down the stairs, trying to shake off the lingering frustration as she reached for the doorknob.

But when she pulled the door open, she froze.

It wasn't the Hawk she was expecting.

Eli stood there holding a bouquet of carnations, slightly wilted but still clearly an attempt at being polite. But that wasn't the shocking part. His mohawk-normally his signature, bold and spiked with gel-was gone. Or, well, down. His dark hair hung messily over his forehead, almost like it used to back when they were just kids sitting on the grass at lunch, before Cobra Kai twisted him into someone she barely recognized.

His expression wasn't cocky either. If anything, he looked... nervous?

The words caught in her throat as her eyes flicked from the flowers back to him.

"What...what are you wearing?" she blurted, frowning.

Eli blinked, glancing down at himself. He was wearing a plain button-up shirt-wrinkled, like he hadn't ironed it but had at least made the effort-along with a pair of dark jeans.

"Uh...clothes?" He gave a half-hearted shrug, holding up the carnations like some awkward peace offering. "I, uh...brought these. For your grandma. Figured... y'know. Nice gesture?"

Before Imogen could even formulate a response, her grandmother's voice floated from the kitchen.

"Imogen! Who's at the door, sweetheart? Is it Eli?"

Imogen's stomach twisted into a complicated knot. "Yeah, Grandma, it's-"

But Mrs. Lee was already bustling into the foyer, apron dusted with flour, her face lighting up the second she laid eyes on Eli.

"Oh my goodness, Eli! Look at you-so grown up! And what a handsome young man! And flowers too? How thoughtful!" She beamed, practically snatching the bouquet from his hands before Imogen could even react.

"Uh, yeah," Eli muttered, shuffling awkwardly as Mrs. Lee fussed over the bouquet. "It's...nice to see you again, Mrs. Lee."

Mrs. Lee gave him a warm smile, completely oblivious to Imogen's tension. "Come in, come in! I just took the roast out of the oven. Sit down and make yourself comfortable!"

Eli stepped inside, shooting a sidelong glance at Imogen-less smug now, but still wearing that familiar trace of mischief she remembered way too well.

In a low whisper meant just for her, he muttered, "See? I can be nice."

Imogen folded her arms, narrowing her eyes as she whispered back, "Why are you being nice? What's your angle here, Moskowitz?"

Eli smirked, leaning just slightly closer. "Maybe I just wanna make a good impression. Reconnect."

She scoffed under her breath, voice sharp. "Please. Since when do you care about 'good impressions'?"

Before the tension could fully snap, Mrs. Lee called from the kitchen, "Imogen! Help our guest get comfortable while I finish the sides, will you?"

Imogen clenched her jaw, inhaling slowly before forcing a tight smile.

"This way," she muttered, turning toward the dining room as Eli followed-his smirk lingering just a little too long.

"Yeah," he whispered, just loud enough for her to hear. "This is gonna be fun."

Imogen clenched her fists. Tonight was going to be a disaster.

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The dining room was bathed in the soft glow of the overhead chandelier, its golden light reflecting off the polished oak table where Imogen, Eli, and Grandma Lee sat. The scent of roast beef and mashed potatoes lingered in the air, but neither Imogen nor Eli seemed particularly focused on their food. The tension was thick-so palpable it felt like a wall pressing down between them. Imogen sat stiffly, stabbing her fork into the same untouched piece of broccoli for the past five minutes while Eli avoided looking in her direction entirely, poking at his mashed potatoes with the back of his fork like they'd personally offended him.

The only sound, aside from the soft clinking of silverware against china, was the rhythmic ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner. Too loud. Too steady. Every second stretching the uncomfortable silence further.

Grandma Lee, however, seemed oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface. She sat at the head of the table, neatly slicing her roast beef, her expression warm and content as she filled the silence with small talk. "So, Eli," she began, setting down her knife and fork with a polite smile, "how's your mother doing these days? I haven't seen her since-oh, goodness, when was it? That neighborhood potluck? You must've been, what, thirteen?"

Eli blinked, caught mid-bite, and straightened in his chair. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before speaking, voice quieter than usual. "Uh, yeah. She's...she's good. Busy, you know. Working a lot."

Imogen's eyes narrowed just slightly, catching the vagueness in his tone. Sure, she thought, barely resisting an eye roll. Way to dodge the question, tough guy.

Grandma Lee nodded, either missing or ignoring the awkward deflection. "That's good to hear. I always thought she was such a sweet woman." She tilted her head, her gaze softening as she looked between the two of them. "You know, it's so wonderful to see you again after all these years, Eli. Feels like just yesterday you two were inseparable, running around in the backyard together. Remember that summer?"

Imogen felt her stomach twist. Oh no. Please, not this.

Eli shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck while Imogen's grip on her fork tightened, her knuckles paling.

"Grandma-" Imogen started, a warning in her voice.

But Grandma Lee was already fully immersed in nostalgia, her eyes twinkling as she smiled. "Oh, Imogen, don't be embarrassed. That was such a precious time! Remember when you two built that ridiculous fort out of my good sheets? I came outside, and it looked like half my linen closet had been stolen." She chuckled, eyes crinkling at the corners.

Eli let out a quiet, almost awkward laugh under his breath. "Yeah... sorry about that. Pretty sure we claimed they were for 'structural support' or something."

Imogen felt her cheeks heat, more from irritation than embarrassment. She crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at him. "Yeah, you were the one who said the whole thing would collapse if we didn't reinforce the pillow wall. Pretty sure we had, like, fifteen of them out there."

Eli cracked a smirk, the first genuine expression she'd seen from him all night. "Hey, it was a solid design. Technically, it worked. No collapses, right?"

"Until it rained, and the entire thing got soaked and covered in mud," she shot back, lips pursing.

"And I still say the rain was sabotage," he replied, the teasing glint in his eye almost making her forget how mad she was. Almost.

Grandma Lee sighed wistfully, pressing a hand over her heart. "Oh, but you two were so close back then. Remember the lemonade stand? You both charged extra for those-what did you call them? Deluxe cups?"

Imogen groaned softly. "Grandma-"

Eli grinned. "Yeah, the ones with the stickers? We thought we were marketing geniuses."

"You scammed half the neighborhood!" Imogen snapped, though the corners of her lips twitched, fighting back a smile.

Grandma Lee beamed. "You were creative! Oh, and what was that silly game you always played? Something with monsters? Lava monsters?"

Eli's face softened, and his voice dropped as he nodded. "Lava monsters." His gaze flicked toward Imogen for just a second, something almost...gentle in his expression.

Imogen blinked, caught off guard by the memory resurfacing so clearly-late summer evenings, giggling under the fading sunset, jumping from couch cushion to couch cushion as they shouted about imaginary monsters chasing them. For a split second, it was like they were those kids again, before-

Before everything changed.

The weight of reality came crashing back down.

Imogen straightened, her face hardening. "Yeah, well. That was a long time ago." Her voice was colder now, sharper, and she met Eli's gaze directly this time. You're not that person anymore.

Eli's smirk faded. His shoulders tensed, and he broke eye contact, focusing back on his food. "Yeah. Guess it was."

A heavy silence settled over the table, awkward and stifling. The lighthearted nostalgia had evaporated, leaving something heavier behind-something unspoken lingering between them.

Grandma Lee, sensing the shift but unsure of its cause, cleared her throat gently and reached for the gravy boat. "Well... I'm just so glad you're reconnecting now. It's always nice to have old friends back in your life. Don't you think, Imogen?"

Imogen forced a tight smile, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. "Sure. Great."

Eli didn't respond this time, focusing intently on cutting his roast beef into unnecessarily tiny pieces.

The rest of dinner dragged on, quiet and uncomfortable, with only the occasional scrape of a chair or clink of glass to break the silence.

Imogen kept sneaking glances at Eli across the table, trying to figure out what was up with him. Why was he acting like this? Like he actually cared about the past? This wasn't the same person who'd been tormenting Demetri in the cafeteria earlier-was it?

And more importantly, why did part of her miss the version of him who used to climb trees with her and make stupid lemonade stand scams?

By the time dinner was finally over, she couldn't decide which was worse-the awkwardness, or the fact that some tiny, traitorous part of her didn't entirely hate having him there.

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The night had been heavy, filled with the lingering tension of words unsaid and memories that were far too easy to dig up. Imogen had excused herself from the table after dinner, her stomach twisting with a cocktail of emotions she wasn't quite ready to untangle. Eli-Eli, who used to be her friend, who used to make her laugh without trying-had walked her to the door, and now, with the chill of the night air seeping in around them, he lingered on the front step.

Imogen stood just inside the doorway, arms crossed, her face still set in a mask of indifference. She wasn't sure if she wanted to throw him out or let him speak his mind-whatever was left of it, anyway. She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and for a moment, the air felt suffocating.

"Imogen..." Eli said her name softly, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing himself for something. He looked different now-different than the cocky guy who strutted around school, different than the person who had given her and everyone else so much hell. This Eli was a little quieter, a little more hesitant.

Imogen raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "What?" she asked, already knowing the answer but needing him to say it anyway.

Eli let out a sigh, his voice quieter than before. "I... I know I've been a dick to you. To everyone, really. And I guess I just wanted to say... I'm sorry. I don't know what I was trying to prove, but you're not that bad after all."

Imogen blinked, her heart doing a small, inexplicable flip. Not that bad? It was a backhanded compliment, but it stung in a way she wasn't expecting. Still, she kept her composure, folding her arms tighter across her chest as she leaned against the doorframe.

"I guess you, too," she replied, her voice flat, her eyes not meeting his. "But you're still in Cobra Kai, Eli. Nothing's changed about that."

Eli's face tightened, his gaze darkening for a moment, the words clearly hitting him harder than he let on. "I wish you and Moon weren't together," he muttered, almost to himself, his voice low but laden with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

Imogen froze, the blood draining from her face. She blinked, sure she misheard him. "What?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly, though she tried to keep it steady. She couldn't make sense of the words.

Eli took a step closer, his eyes searching hers, something raw and vulnerable there that sent a cold shiver down her spine. He seemed to be leaning in, drawn by some invisible force, and before she could think-before she could stop him-he was close enough for her to feel the heat of his breath on her face.

He moved in slowly, his lips parting as if to say something else-or maybe to close the distance between them.

Imogen's mind screamed at her to do something-anything-but instinct kicked in. She took a sharp step back, her eyes flashing with fury.

"Don't even," she snapped, her voice sharp as she swung the door shut with a resounding thud, the sound echoing in the cold night air.

She didn't wait for him to respond, didn't give him the chance to explain. She slammed the door with all her strength, the force of it making her hand sting.

Imogen stood there, breathless, her back pressed against the cool wood of the door. Her heart hammered in her chest, but not out of excitement. No, it was anger, confusion-something that rattled her to her core.

What the hell was that? she thought, running a shaky hand through her hair as she slid down the door to sit on the floor.

Eli had kissed her. Or, at least, tried to. In the middle of all that nonsense-after everything that had happened, after him acting like a complete asshole, he tried to kiss her.

The idea of it made her stomach churn. It made her feel... weird. Like she was still reeling from something unresolved. Something about him, about their past, about the boy she used to know and the one standing on her doorstep now, just didn't sit right.

Imogen let out a frustrated sigh, staring down at her hands.

She couldn't stop thinking about it, about him. She didn't want to-she shouldn't want to-but she did.

Eli was in Cobra Kai. Eli was... dangerous in ways she couldn't even begin to unpack. He had his own demons, his own battles. But there was something there-something familiar, something she hadn't realized she missed.

She shook her head, willing herself to think straight, but the memory of his eyes, that sudden vulnerability in his gaze, lingered like a heavy weight she couldn't shake.

And the kiss... What would've happened if she had let him?

No, she thought firmly. I'm with Moon.

But then again, why did part of her feel like she was lying?

ASH SPEAKS!!!!

our girl imogen is starting to have conflicted feelings...

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