Hospitals have a smell you never forget.
Floor wax. Antiseptic. And in the pediatric wing, something softer beneath it all, a fragile hint of hope.
Over the last two weeks, it had become more familiar to me than the jasmine candles burning in my bedroom at home.
I sat on the edge of the oversized medical bed, watching Leo navigate a digital race track on his tablet. Beside me, Carl was reclined in a deep, charcoal leather armchair that looked like it belonged in a high end executive lounge. He was wearing a simple grey hoodie, the hood pushed back to reveal hair that was slightly more chaotic than the Eastwood Shark persona usually allowed.
"You are drifting too early, Leo," Carl remarked, his voice a low, calm rumble that seemed to vibrate in the spacious room. "Take the inner corner or you will lose the traction."
"I know what I am doing, Carl! Sadie, tell him to stop backseat driving," Leo huffed, though he shifted his thumbs exactly where his brother had suggested.
I laughed, a sound that felt less like a performance and more like a reflex these days. "He is right, Leo. Precision over speed. That is the only way to win the long game."
Carl's eyes flicked to mine. There was a quiet, steady understanding in his gaze that I still was not used to. For years, every look from him had been a challenge, a silent calculation of how to unseat me from my rank. But now? Now, he just looked at me like I was a person. Not a Sterling. Not a rival. Just Sadie.
I looked away first, focusing on the way his hands rested on the soft leather of the armchair. They were strong, steady hands. They were the kind of hands that had held me while I shattered in the sunroom. I caught myself wondering what they would feel like if he reached out to take mine, then immediately brushed the thought away. He was a Sinclair, Sadie. Focus.
"I should get going," I said, standing up and smoothing out my jeans. "Tessa and the girls are meeting me for lunch. Apparently, I have been missing in action for too long."
"You have," Leo chirped without looking up from his game. "But tell them you were busy with your new best friend. Me."
Carl stood up as well, his height immediately making the suite feel more intimate. "I will walk you to the lobby."
We walked through the plushly carpeted corridors in a comfortable silence. The friction that used to define us had smoothed out into something else. It was a truce that felt sturdier than any alliance my father had ever brokered. As we passed the glass reflection of a sleek, minimalist art installation in the hallway, I caught a glimpse of us. We looked... good. He looked effortlessly handsome in a way that did not require the sharp blazers he wore to school. It was an annoying realization.
"You are staring, Sterling," he said, a ghost of a smirk touching his lips.
"I am not," I snapped, though the heat in my cheeks betrayed me. "I was just thinking that your hair is a mess."
"Liars get a Rank Two in my book," he teased, and for the first time, the mention of the rankings did not feel like a jab. It felt like an inside joke.
The bistro was loud, a sharp contrast to the quiet focus of the hospital. Tessa, Sarah, and Jessica were already huddled in a corner booth, three lattes steaming in the center of the table. The moment I walked in, Tessa waved me over with an intensity that suggested she had at least three hours worth of gossip saved up.
"Look who finally emerged from the Sterling fortress!" Tessa exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug. "We were about to file a missing persons report, Sadie. Where have you been hiding?"
"I have just been... busy," I said, sliding into the booth. "With everything after the funeral. My parents, the estate... and I have been spending time at the hospital with a friend's younger brother."
Sarah leaned in, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "A friend? Since when do you have friends outside of us that we do not know about? Is this a secret project or a secret person?"
"It is just someone I met through the school circles," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral as I scanned the menu. "He has been... helpful. Truly. He was there for me when things were bad."
Jessica reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "We know, Sadie. And we are glad. After the whole mess with Brian and the Richard situation, you deserve someone who actually shows up for you. Even if it is just a friend, we are happy you are not doing this alone."
"It is good to have a distraction," Tessa added, leaning back as she stirred her drink. "But you have to promise to give us the full details soon. We feel like we are losing our star pupil to a mystery man."
We spent the next two hours catching up on everything I had missed. It felt grounding to talk about normal things. Tessa talked about her latest drama, while Sarah talked about the two jobs she was working. They did not treat me like a mourning heir or a rank one student. They treated me like Sadie. By the time I left, the heavy weight in my chest had lifted just a little more.
That evening, I found myself back at the park near the hospital, the air crisp and smelling of the coming spring. I did not expect to see Carl there, but he was sitting on a stone bench near the fountain, watching the water dance in the moonlight.
"You are following me now?" I asked, stepping into the light of the streetlamp.
He looked up, and the playful spark that usually lived in his eyes was gone. He looked serious. Resolved. "I figured you would come this way. You always like the quiet path when you want to be alone or have a lot on your mind."
I sat down beside him, the cold of the stone seeping through my coat. "How did you know that?"
"I have been paying attention to you for a long time, Sadie," he said softly. He turned to face me, his expression more vulnerable than I had ever seen it. "I think it is time I told you why."
I held my breath. The steady feeling of the last few weeks suddenly felt like it was leading to a precipice.
"Do you remember the Academic Review in sophomore year?" he asked. "The one where our parents came to claim their return on investment?"
I nodded slowly. The memory of the administration wing, with its thick carpets and mahogany doors, came flooding back. "I remember. Your father was... beyond difficult."
"I was standing in that room near the headmaster's study," Carl said, his voice dropping to a low, hollow register. "My father was telling me that if I could not maintain a perfect standing, it meant I was comfortable with Leo being forgotten. He told me that my edge was slipping because I was playing games with you. He made it feel like Leo's survival rested on my grade book."
He paused, looking at his hands. "I was a soldier standing at attention, Sterling. I was ready to just take it because that was my role. And then you stepped out of the shadows. You lied to one of the most powerful men in the country without flinching. You spun that story about a cross departmental initiative just to give me a window to breathe."
"I could not stand the way he was talking to you," I whispered. "He was being a monster. No one should have to hear that their brother's priority status is tied to a decimal point."
"You told me that Leo would be proud of me regardless of a ranking," Carl said, his gaze snapping back to mine, raw and unblinking. "You were the first person who ever told me I was enough without the Sinclair name attached to me. You saw the mask I was wearing, the heaviest one of all, and instead of using it against me, you covered for me. I have liked you since that day, Sterling, or maybe way before then. I just did not know how to stand beside you after seeing that you were the only person in the world with a heart big enough to protect your rival."
He reached out, his hand hesitating before covering mine on the bench. His skin was warm against the evening chill. "I am tired of the masks, Sterling. I do not want to be the boy just living for two people anymore. I want to be the person who helps you hold your own shield. I want to be yours, if you will have me. No more games. Just us."
"You've been good to me, Carl," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet. I stopped by a bench near the fountain, turning to face him. "Since the sunroom... since the funeral. You didn't have to be. We're supposed to be enemies, remember?"
Carl stopped, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He looked down at his shoes for a moment before meeting my eyes. "I think we both know that 'enemy' thing was a lie we told ourselves to make the rankings easier to handle."
"Is that all it was?" I asked, my heart beginning to thud against my ribs. "A strategy?"
Carl moved closer, the space between us shrinking until I could feel the heat radiating from him. The "Shark" was gone. In his place was the boy who had stood in the woods at my grandmother's funeral, the boy who had listened to my sobs in the sunroom.
"Sadie, I haven't been looking for your weaknesses because I wanted to win," he said, his voice low and raspy. "I was looking for them because I was looking for a way in. I've liked you for a long time. Longer than I think you'd believe."
The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of our shared history. My heart was racing, a frantic drumming against my ribs. I liked him. I knew I did. The way I checked him out, the way I felt safe when he was near. It was all there.
"I... I need time, Carl," I whispered, finally meeting his gaze. "Everything has happened so fast. I need to think."
Carl did not flinch. He just squeezed my hand gently. "Take all the time you need, sterling. I have waited years. I am not in a rush."
Three Days Later.
The steady rhythm had been replaced by a torturous tension.
I had not given him an answer yet. I had seen him at the hospital twice, and each time, we had kept it polite and focused on Leo. But the air between us was vibrating with the unspoken proposal.
He was sitting in in a corner at the small café we'd agreed to meet far from my house, almost at the edge of the city, I could sense how disturbed he seemed looking ag him from the cracked transparent window of the cafe, the bell above the door chimed when I walked in. He did not have to look up to know it was me.
I walked over to his table. He looked... tired. The cool mask he had worn when he said he was not in a rush was crumbling. I sat down opposite him, his eyes dark with a restless energy.
"It has been three days, Sterling," he said, his voice sounding raw.
"You said you were not in a rush," I reminded him, my own heart leaping into my throat.
"I lied," he admitted, leaning forward, his gaze locked onto mine with a desperate kind of intensity. "I thought I could be the patient guy. I thought I could give you space. But three days feels like three years when I am waiting to know if I am finally allowed to love you."