Souls don't meet by accident - Will Smith

BRIAR

It had been a week.

7 full days of silence.

No texts. No "are you okay." Not even a petty Instagram like.

And I hated that I kept checking.

Sydney and Sophia were trying to distract me with talk of spring break plans and outfits for some upcoming themed mixer, but I was only half-listening. Because all I could think about was one thing:

He saw the text.
He just didn't answer.

That was the part that stung.

Not knowing what he was thinking. Not knowing if he was mad. Or worse—if he just didn't care anymore.

I saw him at the rink that afternoon.

I wasn't even planning to be there. I just wanted fresh air, a walk, maybe to watch practice from a distance like I used to.

He didn't see me at first. He was mid-drill, barking orders, focused.

But when he did—his eyes caught mine for a second across the ice—and didn't look away.

No smile. No smirk. Just that unreadable expression he wore when he was holding something back.

I turned to leave.

"Briar."

I froze.

The sound of his skates stopping behind me was like thunder on ice.

I slowly turned. "Hey."

Will stepped off the rink, pulling his helmet off, sweat dampening the edge of his hairline. "You came to watch?"

"Just passing by," I said, too quickly.

He nodded. "Right."

Silence stretched.

I looked down at my shoes. "You didn't text back."

"You didn't have to tell me about the party," he said, tone flat. "You don't owe me anything."

"I didn't do anything wrong," I replied, even though my voice shook a little.

He stepped closer, jaw tight. "I never said you did."

"But you're acting like it."

Will's hands curled slightly at his sides. "Do you like him?"

The question hit like a slap. I blinked. "What?"

"Wes," he said. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know him," I snapped. "We talked. That's it."

"But you didn't stop him from trying."

I felt my chest rise. "You don't get to be jealous, Will."

He laughed, bitter. "I'm not."

"Then what are you?"

He was quiet for a beat. Then:

"Scared." His voice cracked on the word.

I went still.

Will looked down, then back at me. "That night, by the car... I saw how you looked at me. Like I was something dangerous. I scared you. And I hate that."

"You didn't mean to," I said softly.

"But I did it anyway."

"I wasn't scared of you," I added, voice dropping. "I was scared of how fast everything felt. Of you, yeah—but not in the way you think."