"Sometimes the quietest love says the loudest things."After her brother's death and a move to Westfield High, Katrina keeps her life small-library corners, safe routes, a mom whose love often sounds like rules. Then Zion calls the tutoring hotline. He's the school's standout guard with hazel eyes that change with the light and a piano bench waiting for him every Sunday-talented, overcommitted, and quietly unraveling.Their Saturday sessions turn history into stories and strangers into something more: sticky notes passed between pages, jokes at lunch, almost-touches that feel like promises. With Katrina's "people first, dates follow" method, Zion finds his footing. With Zion's steady faith, Katrina steps into the light-speaking up in class, showing up in the stands, letting friends (and a very determined teen library aide) make room for her. At home, her mother learns to loosen fear without letting go.When the gym glows under string lights, the slow song they've been saving finds them at last-and their first kiss feels less like fireworks and more like finally breathing.Content note: mentions of a sibling's past death by suicide (off-page); handled with care. Clean romance (kissing only).