Tell No One We're In Love
Description
Amy Garcia thought her last summer of high school would be full of late-night bonfires, cheer practices, and her picture-perfect boyfriend. Instead, it starts with betrayal-and nearly ends in the middle of the road. Enter James Carter: confident, infuriating, and way too off-limits. He makes her a deal-face the fears she's been too scared to touch, and he'll be right there with her. What begins as a secret pact turns into stolen glances, late-night training sessions, and a connection neither of them expected. But as the school year looms and old enemies resurface, Amy's about to learn: glowing up is easy... it's staying strong when everything falls apart that takes real fight.
Chapter 1
Feb 17, 2026
Amy’s POV
The smell of summer was already in the air—hot pavement, coconut sunscreen, and something sweet like melting popsicles. It was supposed to be the summer I had always dreamed of. My last summer of high school. The summer was filled with bonfires at the beach, cheerleading competitions, late-night snacks at drive-thrus, and dreamy date nights with my boyfriend, Charlie Thompson. I had imagined holding hands in the dark, sharing milkshakes, and dancing barefoot in the sand. That was the plan.
Charlie had been mine since eighth grade. We had grown up together, made it through all the awkward phases together, and somehow, people thought we were perfect. They called us the “ideal couple.” We were in yearbook spreads, on Homecoming courts, and even got voted “Most Likely to Marry.” I used to smile every time someone said we were meant to be. I used to feel proud, lucky.
Lately, though, things had felt… wrong. Not loud and obvious, but quietly, deep in my chest. Like I was playing a role in a movie someone else wrote. Like I was living someone else’s life. I didn’t talk about it, not even to my best friends. I was supposed to be happy. I had everything. Why wasn’t I?
I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, adjusting the top of my cheer uniform. It was a new one, just picked up today, and it still smelled like plastic and fresh stitching. I tugged at the fabric, turning slightly side to side, trying to decide if it looked good. My ponytail bounced perfectly. My lip gloss sparkled. My skin was smooth and tan. But something about the reflection felt fake. Like I was staring at someone I didn’t fully recognize anymore.
I remembered what my friend Camilla said earlier today at practice.
“You look perfect,” she had said while flicking a speck of lint off my shoulder, her eyes scanning me up and down. Then she tilted her head and added, “You’re just… background pretty.”
I had forced a laugh, even though her words stuck to me like burrs. What did she mean? That I was forgettable? Average? I hadn’t known how to respond, so I stayed quiet, like I always did.
At practice, Camilla always took the lead. She shouted counts and flipped effortlessly through the air while the rest of us followed. She was loud and fearless and powerful. And I—well, I was the one who kept the rhythm, who stayed in line, who smiled when it hurt. My muscles ached from all the lifting and landing, but I didn’t complain. I never complained. Not even when the stunts scared me. Not even when I felt dizzy from pushing my body too hard. I didn’t even know if I liked cheer anymore. I didn’t even know what I wanted to study after graduation. Everyone else had big plans—nursing school, drama school, even business degrees. And me? I didn’t have a clue.
That night, I got a text from the studio that my new uniform had arrived early. I figured it would be fun to surprise Charlie. He used to say he loved it when I showed up without warning. “Makes things feel exciting,” he once told me, brushing his lips over my forehead. I held onto that memory like it meant something. I grabbed the uniform and drove to his house, hoping that maybe seeing him would make everything feel normal again.
The drive was quick, less than fifteen minutes, and I rolled down the windows to feel the warm breeze on my face. I even turned up the music, trying to believe the lyrics that sang about young love and forever. I thought maybe tonight we’d lie on his roof like we used to and talk about college or the future or anything but cheer practice.
I climbed up the porch steps, heart fluttering like a nervous bird in a cage. The new uniform was folded neatly over my arm, and I imagined how Charlie’s eyes would light up when he saw me. I rang the bell, trying not to feel too hopeful.
His mom opened the door.
“Amy?” she said, blinking in surprise.
I smiled awkwardly. “Hey! I just picked up my new uniform. Thought I’d stop by.”
Her face shifted, confusion creeping in.
“Oh,” she said slowly. “I thought you were already here.”
My smile froze. “What do you mean?”
“I saw the uniform,” she said, glancing upstairs, “and the blonde hair and—well, I just assumed…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
Something inside me turned cold.
I didn’t wait.
I pushed past her gently, my voice catching as I mumbled, “Sorry—I forgot something upstairs.”
My feet moved before my brain could catch up. I took the stairs two at a time, my breath sharp, my hands shaking. My thoughts screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t. I had to know. I had to see. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was exactly what it sounded like.
At the top of the stairs, I slowed down. Charlie’s door was almost closed, but I could see a thin line of light shining through. I reached out, heart thudding painfully in my chest, and placed my hand on the door.
It creaked as I pushed it open.
Slowly.
Loudly.
And then I saw it.
Charlie was on his bed.
Camilla was straddling him.
Tell No One We're In Love
30 Chapters
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