Jax

I should’ve known something was up the moment the supervisor knocked on my door with that fake smile.

“Group bonding day!” she said, like we were five-year-olds at a summer camp. “It’ll be fun.”

Fun, my ass.

Apparently once a month, the house did some big forced-bonding garbage. Games. Teamwork. Trust-building crap. A bunch of strangers with baggage pretending they liked each other. All under the illusion that doing a scavenger hunt or whatever could fix the shit we didn’t talk about.

I didn’t have a choice.

“No opting out,” she said when I tried to walk away. “Participation is mandatory.”

My fists clenched before I could stop them. Don’t. I didn’t want a mark on my record this early. I couldn’t afford it.

So I went.

Regret hit the second I stepped into the common room.

Everyone was already there. Sitting in a lazy circle with plastic chairs and forced smiles. Levi, Micah, and the new kid too—huddled together like magnets. Close. Familiar. Levi had one arm slung over Micah’s chair. The small one—Eli, I think someone called him—was curled up between them like he belonged there.

I didn’t sit. I leaned against the wall. Arms crossed. Head down. Waiting for it to be over before it started.

“Alright,” the supervisor chirped, way too chipper. “We’re going to pair off and do a communication challenge!”

Someone groaned.

“Don’t make me separate you like children,” she teased. “Let’s draw names!”

Hell no.

But it was already happening. Slips of paper. Names being passed around like punishment.

Levi laughed when he got his. “Hey, Jax. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

I stared at him. “Switch.”

He blinked. “Uh—what?”

“Switch with someone else.”

Micah raised a brow. “Wow. Fast rejection. You’re breaking his heart.”

Levi grinned. “Nah, I can take it. We’ll make it work, right, Jax?”

I didn’t answer. Just walked over like I was heading to an execution.

The activity was stupid. One person blindfolded, the other giving directions. “Trust exercises,” they called it.

Trust. Right.

I let Levi be the one blindfolded. At least I didn’t have to look at him that way.

He stood in the middle of the room, arms out like some idiot about to walk into traffic.

“All right,” I muttered. “Take two steps forward.”

He did.

“Left. No—other left.”

“Your left or mine?” he asked.

“Don’t be a smartass.”

He laughed. “Bossy.”

I gritted my teeth. “You’re going to hit the wall.”

“Well, I trust you.”

I wanted to punch him just for saying that.

The activity dragged on. Levi kept cracking jokes. I kept pretending I wasn’t there. Every word I said felt like glass in my mouth. Every laugh from the others scraped against something raw.

I didn’t belong here.

Not with them. Not with their easy touches and quiet glances and inside jokes.

Not with anyone.

When it was over, the supervisor clapped her hands. “Great job, everyone! Go take a break before the next round.”

I turned to leave, but Levi caught my sleeve.

“You did good, you know,” he said, eyes softer than they should’ve been. “You’re not as bad at this as you think.”

I pulled away. “Don’t touch me.”

His smile faded just a little. Not all the way, but enough.

I walked off before he could say anything else.

Back in the room, I paced like something was crawling under my skin. I hated this. All of it. The closeness. The looking. Like they were trying to figure me out.

Let them try. They wouldn’t get far.

I didn’t need them.

Didn’t need anyone.

That’s what I told myself.

That’s what I always told myself.