THE FALL LINE: Chapter Eight

Thank you for reading The Fall Line. We’re getting closer now—closer to the dream, closer to something none of them have language for.

Chapter 8 is now live for paid subscribers. There’s tension in the air. The lines are bigger. The stakes higher. And for Jamie and Cole, everything that hasn’t been said is starting to matter more than ever.

If you’re new here, Chapter 1 is still free to read. And if you’ve been here from the beginning—thank you. You already know what happens when the snow gets heavy.

Chapter Eight: Dropping

The van was too quiet.

Mia had caught a ride with a friend—early shift at the shop. Jamie woke to find the front seat empty and Cole already laced into his boots, tossing a clementine in the air. Up. Catch. Up. Catch. Same arc every time.

He didn’t offer Jamie coffee.
Didn’t even look at him.

Jamie dressed slow, waiting for something—eye contact, a grunt, even a muttered “you ready?” But nothing came. Just the soft thwack of citrus against Cole’s palm.

They pulled on base layers back to back, shoulders brushing in the cramped van like strangers on a bus.

Jamie poured two coffees. Set one down.
Cole didn’t touch it.

By the time Jamie zipped his jacket and grabbed his helmet, his hands were shaking.

He paused at the door. Turned back.

“You gonna talk to me?”

Nothing.

“Cole—”

“Don’t.”

Jamie exhaled through his nose. Kept his voice steady.

“You’ve been acting like an asshole since après. Just say it. Say whatever it is.”