I Was Never Meant To 55

Chapter 55 55- Do Not Tell Him What You’re Thinking 

LEXI 

Blake settles cross–legged on the tablecloth across from me, his posture relaxed but attentive. I carefully, smooth my skirt, and place the box down between us with deliberate care. It makes a faint, solid sound against the stone beneath the cloth. I really don’t know how breakable this thing is, and the professor was very clear about disqualification. I’m not about to lose over something stupid like a cracked corner. 

“So… Now what?” I say, glancing up at Blake. He shrugs, unfazed, and reaches forward to pick up the box. It looks small in his hands, but heavy. He turns it slowly, methodically, examining every edge. His fingers trace the seams where a lid should be, where a hinge might exist. 

“I can’t see any kind of opening or lid.” He says finally. I frown immediately. 

“Really? But there has to be something, right?” I object. I hold my hand out, and he passes the box back to me. As he does, something flickers across the surface, just for a second. My breath catches. I yank the box toward myself, tilting it to catch the light again. Nothing. Smooth. Blank. Untouched. My brow 

furrows. 

“What?” Blake asks, watching me closely. 

“I thought I saw something. But… there’s nothing there.” I say slowly. Blake’s eyes narrow, not dismissive, just focused. He shifts closer, scooting across the tablecloth until he’s beside me rather than across from me. The warmth of him is immediate, grounding. 

“I believe you. Let’s try something.” He says. I glance at him. 

“Okay.” I agree. 

“Put the box down between us.” He instructs. I do, setting it carefully in the space between our knees. 

“Now just… Touch one side.” He continues, voice steady, I place my palm flat against the box. The surface is cool beneath my skin. Blake mirrors me, placing two fingers on the opposite side. The words appear instantly. They don’t glow or shimmer, they look carved, like they’ve always been there, etched deep into 

the stone. 

“There!” I gasp. Blake pulls his hand away instinctively, and the words vanish. He puts it straight back on the box. The words appear again. He freezes, then slowly removes his hand completely. Nothing. Blank again. He replaces his fingers on the box. The words reappear. 

“They only show when we’re both touching it.” He says, clearly pleased. 

“Interesting.” He comments. 

“I knew I wasn’t imagining it.” I mutter, deeply satisfied. I lean forward, squinting slightly as I read aloud. 

“Take not the quick or easy phrase, the lock knows truth from borrowed praise. 

Pause, then speak what you can prove, it opens only when you’re true. 

Dress it sweet and it won’t turn, the lock prefers the truth you learn. 

Speak it plain, not dressed or new, it opens fast for honest you.” 

“Is it a riddle?” I ask. Blake raises an eyebrow, eyes gleaming faintly. 

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Chapter 55 55- Do Not Tell Him What You’re Thinking 

“Sure seems like it.” He answers. I can practically feel his interest sharpening. 

“It sounds like we’re supposed to say… Something… To open the box.” He decides. 

“I agree. But say what?” I say. He frowns, eyes flicking back to the words. 

“It mentions praise…” He trails off. 

“Are we meant to… Compliment the box?” I ask, baffled. 

“That seems unlikely.” He replies thoughtfully. 

“Yeah…” I trail off. I pull my hand away from the box. This time, the words don’t disappear. Huh. 

“I guess it knows we’ve already seen it. No point hiding now. Or maybe we both just had to touch it for a certain amount of time to make it stay.” I murmur. 

Blake withdraws his hand too, studying the box with open curiosity.  

 

“This is a strange puzzle.” He says. There’s a small smile tugging at his mouth, subtle, but unmistakable. He looks delighted. Of course he does. He loves 

riddles. 

“Very strange.” I agree. I lift the box again, turning it over in my hands. 

“Oh, hey. There’s more writing underneath.” I say. I read aloud again. 

“Of the one before you, speak a strength, 

not trained, not displayed, 

but chosen in moments unseen.‘ 

Blake’s expression tightens. 

“I see more writing too. But that isn’t what it says when I read it.” He says slowly. I blink. 

“Huh? What are you seeing?” I ask. He reads it aloud, his voice quieter now. 

“Of the one before you, speak a beauty, 

not shaped by looks, 

but revealed in gentle moments.” 

I go very still. 

“So… I take it we’re meant to compliment each other?” I say slowly, glancing between the box and Blake. Blake nods, eyes still on the carved words like they might rearrange themselves if he stares long enough. 

D 

“Yes. But not just any compliment.” He says, his brow furrows slightly as he thinks it through. 

“It seems very particular. It keeps warning against borrowed praise. Empty words. And speak a beauty, not shaped by looks. So it’s clearly not interested in 

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Chapter 55 55- Do Not Tell Him What You’re Thinking 

surface–level flattery.” He explains. He taps the side of the box lightly. I hum in agreement. 

“Mine’s similar. A strength, but not an obvious one. Not trained. Not displayed.” I repeat as I glance down at the words. 

“I don’t think it means literal strength either.” I conclude. 

“Which suggests, that there is something specific it’s listening for. Almost like a password. But not a fixed one. One that has to be true for us.” Blake says, 

voice thoughtful. Then, his lips curl faintly. 

“That makes sense. This is meant to be a ‘get to know you‘ game, right? The point probably isn’t to trick the box, it’s to actually think about the person 

sitting in front of you.” I point out as I look up at him. 

“To notice something real.” I add. Blake’s expression shifts, smugness creeping in. 

“In that case, we have a significant advantage.” He says. I snort softly. 

“Yeah. We kind of do.” I agree as I gesture vaguely around the courtyard. 

“Most of these people met their partner about ten minutes ago. We’ve been talking all week.” I laugh. 

“And paying attention.” He adds, clearly pleased with himself. I laugh again, then glance back down at the box. It sits there patiently between us, silent but 

expectant, like it’s listening even when it’s not showing anything. 

“So… Where do we start?” I ask. 

“Do we just start throwing compliments at each other until it opens?” I wonder. 

“I suppose. But they have to be genuine.” Blake says. His gaze flicks to mine, sharp and certain. 

“No guessing. No exaggerating. The box made that very clear.” He says firmly. 

“I wouldn’t lie about that anyway.” I reply with a small smile, but I am suddenly very nervous, because for some reason, the idea of saying the wrong thing 

feels a lot less intimidating than saying the right one. 

“So… Who goes first then?” I ask. Not because I can’t think of a compliment for Blake, honestly, I can think of plenty. That’s almost the problem. Too many 

options. Too many truths to sort through. This doesn’t feel like something I can answer lightly. I don’t want to say something that sounds impressive but 

misses the point. Blake doesn’t hesitate. 

“I can go first.” He answers. Of course he can. He reaches out and places his hand on the box with deliberate care, fingers splayed slightly, like he’s grounding himself. The moment his skin touches it, I feel something shift in the air, not magic exactly, but attention. Like if the box were a person it would be leaning in, resting its chin on its hands. 

“Lexi.” Blake starts, and the way he says my name alone makes my chest tighten. 

“You are beautiful because of how open–minded you are.” He says clearly. My breath stutters, but he doesn’t stop. 

“Not just because you went out of your way to befriend me.” He continues evenly, sincerely. 

“But because you approached everything here the same way. You didn’t shut down. You didn’t harden yourself You embraced this place, its people, its rules, its absurdity, with a dedication and enthusiasm that I personally could never muster.” He says softly. He looks at me then, really looks at me. 

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Chapter 55 55- Do Not Tell Him What You’re Thinking 

“And you did it without losing yourself. I think that is really beautiful.” He finishes. Oh. Okay. Don’t cry. Do not cry. My vision blurs anyway. I blink rapidly, swallowing hard, forcing myself to breathe before I embarrass myself in the middle of a courtyard full of people I’m actively trying not to think about. When I put my hand on the box, my fingers brush his. The contact is brief, but it’s enough. Warm. Steady. Intentional. 

“Thank you.” I say quietly. My voice wobbles just a little, and I clear my throat, gathering myself. 

“Okay. My turn.” I say. I don’t pull my hand away. Instead, I let it rest there, my palm against the cool surface of the box, my fingers close enough to his that I’m acutely aware of the space between them. 

“I think…” I begin slowly, choosing my words with care. 

“That you show a lot of strength in how patient you are.” I start. Blake’s expression sharpens, not defensive, not proud. Attentive. 

“With… Everything. You hear what people say about you and you don’t lash out. You don’t rush. You don’t force your will onto situations, even when I can 

tell you could.” I say as I glance up at him, meeting his eyes. 

“You don’t make demands of me, even when there are clearly things you want. Or things you’re waiting for.” I add softly. His jaw tightens almost 

imperceptibly. 

“You teach without pressuring.” I say instead, more certain as the words come. 

“You don’t rush me. You don’t get frustrated when I don’t get something right away. You explain things differently when the first way doesn’t work, and you let me try again. You wait, really wait, for me to figure things out in my own time. You make space for me to fail and try again without making me feel stupid or weak for it.” I explain as I glance up at him. 

“That takes patience. And that kind of patience takes real strength.” I explain. I hesitate, then add softly, “You make me feel strong too.” I finish. The words hang there between us. For a moment, Blake doesn’t move at all. His eyes are warm now, unguarded the way they were just after we kissed earlier. His gaze is steady, fixed on me like I’ve said something that landed deeper than he expected. He leans closer, his focus narrowing to me alone. He’s about to kiss me 

again. 

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