Fourteen was supposed to be an in-between year — too old for dolls, too young for love. But for Cara, it became the year everything changed.

When her brother’s best friend, Callum Adler, starts spending more time at their house, Cara notices things most adults ignore. The bruises. The quiet. The way their mother starts folding extra laundry like it’s second nature. Callum's broken home becomes a secret the whole family carries, and Cara — wide-eyed, overlooked, and quietly growing — starts to fall for him in all the ways she shouldn’t.

But Callum is four years older. Eighteen. Off-limits. Almost a man. And despite their quiet moments — the almosts, the shared glances, the night she asked to kiss him — he walks away without a goodbye, leaving her in the silence he helped create.

Years pass. Cara grows. Builds a life. Finds herself. By eighteen, she’s no longer just Kaden’s little sister. She’s her own person — confident, loved, maybe even happy. But everything tilts when she runs into Callum again at a skating rink. Older, composed, and entirely unexpected.

He’s not the same boy who used to sleep on her couch with bruises on his ribs — and she’s not the girl who watched him leave.

But unfinished things have a way of circling back.

Told in alternating perspectives of Cara and Callum, What We Never Said explores the slow burn of first love, the ache of timing, and what it really means to grow up — and grow apart — before finding your way back.

I hadn't been to the old skating rink in years.


The place still looked like a time capsule — all worn-out neon signs, disco lights stuck on loop, and that same lingering smell of old popcorn and rubber wheels. The floor was scuffed, the arcade machines groaned louder than they worked, and the snack bar had a blinking "S" in "Snacks" that made it read like nacks.


But somehow… it was kind of perfect for a first date.


James — my date — had suggested it with a lopsided grin and this dorky little "don't laugh" shrug, like he thought I'd say no. He was sweet. Safe. A junior at a nearby college with soft brown eyes and a real talent for saying the right things at the right time. His friend Matt brought along Olivia, one of the girls from my poetry class, and she and I hit it off easier than I expected.


We got our skates, teased each other about falling, and slid out into the blur of music and colored lights.


That laugh. That exact one — low and rough and half-uncontained, like the person behind it wasn't trying to hold it in.


My heart flipped before my brain could catch up.


I turned instinctively. And there he was.


Standing near the lockers with Kaden and a few other guys I recognized from old photos. He was older now — lean and tall and effortless, like he'd finally grown into his own frame. His hoodie sleeves were pushed to his elbows, revealing tan forearms and the faded scar on his wrist I remembered too well.


And for a second, I hated that it still hit me like a punch to the ribs.


James looped back toward me and gently caught my elbow. "You alright?"


I blinked up at him. "Yeah. Sorry. Just zoned out."


He smiled. "You wanna race to the far wall?"


"Sure," I said, voice too calm, too easy.


We took off — not fast, not reckless, just enough to feel the wind and forget for a second. But even as I laughed, even as James reached out to steady me when I nearly spun out, I could feel eyes on me.


I knew it was him before I even looked.


Callum stood still at the edge of the rink, watching me with that quiet intensity I remembered too well. His jaw was tighter now. His shoulders broader. But his eyes… they hadn't changed.


I slowed to a stop and looked right at him.


It wasn't dramatic. No music swell. No movie-moment spotlight.


Just me, standing in the middle of a memory I thought I'd left behind.


His expression didn't shift. Not even when James skated over and laced his fingers through mine.


For the first time in years, I let him see what he lost.


Chapter 12 - Cara